#wkm chapter 1

[onwiththestories]

Snippet of Chapter 3 of WKM: The Egos

As soon as he touched me, I knew this was exactly the Seán that Dark wanted me to find. I knew that if I let us have any form of skin-to-skin contact, Dark would get what he wanted. To make matters worse, there was an evil inside him that both was and wasn’t him. But the jolt was more than knowledge, it was electricity, and ice, and fire, and concussive force shattering through me. A terrifying giggle echoed in my head. It was male, higher pitched, given through clenched teeth. Psychotic. Joyless. The sound of madness and malevolence. It sounded like Red-lad here, but… very much not.

We threw our hands away from each other and stared in terrified silence. His eyes twitched, seemed to change color briefly, then returned. He rubbed them and backed away from me. Mark just looked back and forth between us like a man watching the world’s fastest tennis match.

“What was that?!” I demanded under my breath, “What are you?!”

“N-not here...” he whispered back, looking at me with sincere fear and shaking his head.

After a very lengthy conversation with the medical examiner and paramedics, and continuously denying going to the hospital for an examination even though Mark said he’d pay my medical bills, we sat outside the bank waiting for ‘Jackaboy-man’ to come back around the corner out of his disguise. The police, paramedics, and M.E. all tried to get answers out of me and I simply said that I wasn’t ready to say what happened. I gave a statement on the attempted-robbery-turned-homicide though, but that was it.

All the civilians who saw me come back to life tried to get answers too, but I wasn’t going to explain to them either. I didn’t talk for the cameras even though Mark cleaned himself up and did an interview. What was I going to say? That I’m not human, strictly speaking? I’d be sanctioned. Plus, I didn’t want my face on the news for fear of… well, Dark, really.

I know I skipped chapters 1 and 2, but this is the latest update on my Ao3

Link here

[ask-sister-solaris]

I promised a fic series so heres the first chapter.

"Just let me go"

Part 1/10

Warning: Angsty as fuck, swearing, mild NSFW.

OC x Canon, WKM (Who Killed Markiplier), ISWM (In Space With Markiplier) and AHWM (A Heist With Markiplier)

The soft ticking of the grandfather clock filled the empty lounge, rays of pale moonlight filtered into the once lively room. Glasses left where their owners had set them, some empty, some half full but most filled with dust. A thick layer of dust covered the whole room, undisturbed since the incident, since Damien and Celine went missing, since William lost his mind, since Eliza had been trapped in this void.

The amount of adventures Eliza had been on, how many alter egos she had to create with even the slightest hope she'd get to see her friends again. It felt..pathetic. She was clinging onto the past like she must not forget, she could not forget. Actor would not let her, she was cursed to an eternity of suffering, to watch as her actions either killed people or saved people. How many people had she killed as the Captain of The Invincible II. Did she truly hurt that guys feelings by saying no to his marriage proposal...The guilt ate Eliza up, and it wasn't like these adventures were just do it once and that was that, nope she had to relive all her nightmares. All because of that bastard Actor. And what made it worse, she knew when it was due to happen again.

The woman laid back and stared into the void, before she closed her eyes and woke up on the Invincible II. Of course, this nightmare again a sigh escaped her lips as she sat up and got dressed slicking her short hair back. Usually Engineer Mark would come and wake her up with a coffee, but as the clock ticked on there was no knock...strange. Eliza poked her head out of her room, the hallway was dimly lit and abandoned. There were cobwebs? Stranger..a few cautious steps forward and Eliza was outside her room. It was deadly silent, eerie Eliza would go far as to say torturously silent. As she took a few more cautious steps, dust spoofed up from under her boots, so it had been abandoned for awhile? No..this was all wrong. Not that it mattered, as she opened the door to the bridge instead of consoles and monitors it was a disco room? Now this was definitely wrong, not that she had time to think as she was spun around and kissed.

Elizas eyes widened gently as the familiar scent of whiskey and cigars filled her nose. William..he was actually here?! But his outfit, a far cry from the prim and proper hunting uniform Eliza was use to, was a bright burst of pink and yellow something she never thought her husband would wear. As he pulled away, he grinned and held her face gently. Madness and love swirled in his eyes, his voice still soft as ever as he spoke to her "I knew i would find you sugar" A new nickame..what else had changed about her husband she didn't know. Eliza teared up and pulled him in for another kiss, filled with longing, lust and love. After so long...she had him back and she was not letting him go...but then, even as she pulled away realization hit her. This was more than likely a cruel prank by Actor. She couldn't fall for it. She refused to believe it, it hurt but she couldn't believe it. Wilfords eyes scanned her body language "Sugar.."

She shook her head and covered her ears. No it was just a prank! Just a prank! Had to be! He couldn't be here and yet be so different! Her husband! Her William! She had been there for him when Celine had to break it off with him, she had been there whenever he and mark fought or at least the aftermath. But now..he was so brightly coloured, childish! A sob escaped her lips as Wilford knelt down and pulled her into his chest. "Just let me go William...i know your not even the same person!" Wilfords heart broke a those words and he made her look up at him

"I am real, I am here sugar...I will always find you.." He wouldn't attempt to explain his identity right now, first he had to get Eliza and himself out of this godawful place Actor and put her in. Even with his cheery, airhead personality he picked her up and managed to summon a portal that would allow both of them to leave, and maybe she would find some real peace and rest after the long hellish living nightmare his wife had been through, and he hoped that goddamn detective didn't find them.

Fin

[okiefuckindokie]

Now and Then Ch.2

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

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

I hope you all enjoy🧡

——————————————————————

Read Chapter 1 here

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

——————————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Darkness….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[marketinsight1234]

Canada Industrial Valve Market Outlook for Forecast Period (2023 to 2030)

The Canada Industrial Valve is Expected to Grow at a Significant Growth Rate, and the Forecast Period is 2023-2030, Considering the Base Year as 2022.

Canada Industrial Valves are crucial mechanical devices used to regulate fluid flow in diverse industries. They control liquids, gases, or suspensions, ensuring smooth operation and safety. Valves come in various types, including globe, gate, and butterfly, and are operated manually or automatically using pneumatic, electric, or hydraulic methods. Their role is to enhance industrial processes and mitigate potential hazards by optimizing flow rate and pressure.

The Canada Industrial Valve market in Canada has continued to grow from several industries such as oil and gas, power generation, water and wastewater treatment, mining, and chemical. Canada Industrial Valves play a key role in regulating the flow of liquids and gases in these sectors, making them essential for efficient operation.

Get Full PDF Sample Copy of Report: (Including Full TOC, List of Tables & Figures, Chart) @

Leading players involved in the Canada Industrial Valve Market include:

Velan Inc. (Canada), Cameron Canada (Canada), WKM Canada (Canada), Bray Controls Canada (Canada), Tyco Valves & Controls Canada (Canada), Flowserve Canada (Canada), Pratt & Whitney Canada (Canada), Sure Flow Equipment Inc. (Canada), A.R.I. Valve Corporation (Canada), Canadian Valve and Fittings Ltd. (Canada), Quadrant Valve & Actuator Ltd. (Canada), Marwin Valve Canada (Canada), Canadian Process Technologies Inc. (Canada), Amco Manufacturing Ltd. (Canada), Nutech Valve Automation Inc. (Canada), Canox Welding Systems Ltd. (Canada), CIRCOR Energy Products Canada Inc. (Canada), Alfa Laval Canada Inc. (Canada), W&O Canada (Canada), Powell Valve Canada (Canada) and other major key players. 

The latest research on the Canada Industrial Valve market provides a comprehensive overview of the market for the years 2023 to 2030. It gives a comprehensive picture of the global Canada Industrial Valve industry, considering all significant industry trends, market dynamics, competitive landscape, and market analysis tools such as Porter's five forces analysis, Industry Value chain analysis, and PESTEL analysis of the Canada Industrial Valve market. Moreover, the report includes significant chapters such as Patent Analysis, Regulatory Framework, Technology Roadmap, BCG Matrix, Heat Map Analysis, Price Trend Analysis, and Investment Analysis which help to understand the market direction and movement in the current and upcoming years. The report is designed to help readers find information and make decisions that will help them grow their businesses. The study is written with a specific goal in mind: to give business insights and consultancy to help customers make smart business decisions and achieve long-term success in their particular market areas.

If You Have Any Query Canada Industrial Valve Market Report, Visit:

Segmentation of Canada Industrial Valve Market:

By Type

Ball

Globe

Gate

Butterfly

Plug

Check

By Material

Steel

Brass

Bronze

Cast Iron

Plastic

By Size

< 1”

1”��6”

6”–25”

25”–50”

50”

By Application

Oil & Gas

Power

Energy

Chemical

Water & Waste Treatment

By Function

On/Off

Control

Isolation

Special Purpose

Owning our reports (For More, Buy Our Report) will help you solve the following issues:

Uncertainty about the future?

Our research and insights help our clients to foresee upcoming revenue pockets and growth areas. This helps our clients to invest or divest their resources.

Understanding market sentiments?

It is imperative to have a fair understanding of market sentiments for a strategy. Our insights furnish you with a hawk-eye view on market sentiment. We keep this observation by engaging with Key Opinion Leaders of a value chain of each industry we track.

Understanding the most reliable investment centers?

Our research ranks investment centers of the market by considering their returns, future demands, and profit margins. Our clients can focus on the most prominent investment centers by procuring our market research.

Evaluating potential business partners?

Our research and insights help our clients in identifying compatible business partners.

Acquire This Reports: -

About Us:

We are technocratic market research and consulting company that provides comprehensive and data-driven market insights. We hold the expertise in demand analysis and estimation of multidomain industries with encyclopedic competitive and landscape analysis. Also, our in-depth macro-economic analysis gives a bird's eye view of a market to our esteemed client. Our team at Pristine Intelligence focuses on result-oriented methodologies which are based on historic and present data to produce authentic foretelling about the industry. Pristine Intelligence's extensive studies help our clients to make righteous decisions that make a positive impact on their business. Our customer-oriented business model firmly follows satisfactory service through which our brand name is recognized in the market.

Contact Us:

Office No 101, Saudamini Commercial Complex,

Right Bhusari Colony,

Kothrud, Pune,

Maharashtra, India - 411038 (+1) 773 382 1049 +91 - 81800 - 96367

Email: sales@pristineintelligence.com

[itsemsie]

For My Markiplier Fanfic I'm working on. My first character, The Distric Attorney: Grace

[forget-mad-not]

About tragic backstories. About mourning.

Available on AO3!

(ch.I / VI)

Who Killed Markiplier? Rebecca (by Daphne du Maurier)!AU, with a bit of a Gatsby twist, sprinkled with notes of Mike Flanagan's work (The Haunting of Hill House/Bly Manor).

fandom: Markiplier - Who Killed Markiplier?

chapter wordcount: 4967

quote from the chapter:

Only blurry images of Mr. Iplier’s face could be captured. All the falling scarlet petals and all the intertwining poison-green branches and all the pointed thorns of the rosebush protected him from the camera; already in his lifetime, he was one of the most difficult subjects for the paparazzi who sought to defame him, and even after his death: no one seemed to be able to take a scandalous picture of him.

notes: And the really grisly stuff is just beginning.

taglist: (this is a new thing, we'll try it out! if you're interested in tumblr-notifications on further chapters, write under this post or dm me!)

@mindemenyedelmem @ukulillii @zuliplier @selfshippinglover

[sarah-is-a-person]

“Who Killed Markiplier?”: A Darkiplier Origin Theory

@markiplier

I have a theory about “Who Killed Markiplier.” (This is more of a partial theory because it doesn’t quite explain everything.)

I think “Who Killed Markiplier” is Dark’s origin story. Hear me out. It all starts with the ground keeper. The grounds keeper was on the older side and he’s obviously worked there for a very long time since he has a fifteen year streak of not going into the house. Maybe there’s something weird about the house that makes a lot of bad things happen. I think this because when murder was mentioned, the grounds keeper wasn’t fazed. So, knowing that bad things happen often, we know why the grounds keeper thinks of the house as mad.

Then enter Markiplier. A normal dude grown as a successful YouTuber. He buys the house, moves in and throws a party. He invites his friend Damien, the Colonel, the detective and us.

The Colonel is clearly unstable. Maybe he got driven insane from the things he’s seen in war; we know he went to war because he was promoted to Colonel. And he also keeps referring to the house as “his house”. Maybe it was his before he went to war, and somehow through everything the house fell into the hands of Mark. And the Colonel hates him for it.

So, after a huge party, when the Colonel was drunk, he killed Mark in a fury. He woke up not clearly remembering what happened. After seeing the body he tried to cover his tracks by hiding it. And that’s why the body disappeared.

Enter Selene. Shes a friend of the Colonels and Damien, and she’s a seer. She always knew the house was the center of some sort of black magic. And in one of her sessions, she saw bad things happening in the house. Thats why she came.

Whilst investigating, Selene comes across the source of the power, which is incredibly dangerous. It overwhelms her and she is killed, but is sent to this “in between dimensions” type thing. Her death opened this. Damien is also killed in the explosion and he ends up there as well.

Maybe Selene made a mistake. Using her powers she saw a future where a monster wearing Mark/Damien’s face walked around killing people. She made a mistake and thought it was out there with the Colonel. So when we are accidentally killed and sent to this other dimension, Selene comes up with this plan to stop the monster.

Our body is broken from the fall, but it can still be healed. Selene, using the power of the house, fuses us, Damien and herself together. But she doesn’t realize she has made a mistake. By doing this, she inadvertently created Dark. The three of us created Dark.

Selene gives Dark powers, Damien gives Dark a form/face, and we give Dark a body to walk around in. We are Dark.

(The idea of a fuse is also supported because of their colors. Selena’s red and Damien’s blue somewhat resembles some of the glitchy color that comes with Dark.)

The Colonel didn’t mean to kill us, which is obvious by his breakdown after we wake up. Once he is gone, we pick up Damien’s cane and in the mirror we see Darks reflection.

Selene fused us to give us entrance back to the real world to stop this entity, yet, once we saw ourselves, anger towards the Colonel for ending so many lives overtook us, and our original purpose was lost. We become Dark, angry and vengeful, ready to take revenge on the Colonel and whomever else gets in our way.

Mark’s death started all this. Once we kill the Colonel, we see what Mark has built. And us, as Dark, become jealous and want it for ourselves.

That’s my theory. It’s mostly speculation and probably isn’t right, but I just want to put it out there. What do you think?

[marksandrec]

Marks and Rec: Misc #1950

(Dialogue from twitter.)

[lum1natrix]

it was all a joke.

happy 2 year anniversary, wkm.

[lilacmiracle]

The Terrifying Case of Iplier Manor - Chapter 1

Beta read by @mysterio-is-the-truth

Fandoms: Markiplier, Buzzfeed Unsolved

Note: Quotation marks are Ryan narrating, bold is Shane speaking, italics are Ryan speaking, both bold and italics is the psychic, both bold and italics and in all caps is the spirit box

(AO3) Words: 4,356

The video opens on a series of clips that are presumably filmed later in the episode. The first clip shows Ryan in front of a broken mirror while looking over at Shane, asking, breathlessly, “What the fuck?” The second clip shows Ryan, still in front of the broken mirror, with a bottle of what is presumably holy water. He sprays it at Shane. The third and final clip shows Ryan, Shane, and a new person, all in a different room, this one with a wood fireplace, with a flashlight that has been brightly turned on. The flashlight switches off, and Ryan screams very loudly. 

The video then cuts to the intro for most ‘Supernatural’ episodes, with the building in the background being a version of the Manor, rendered in a 2-Dimensional style.

The video then cuts to Ryan and Shane standing in front of the double doors to the Manor, with Ryan on the right and Shane on the left.

“We are here at Iplier Manor, site of the Warfstache Disappearances, for this season’s finale and my one demon sacrifice for this season.”

I’m really fucking scared, man. I -- I don’t wanna do this.

It’s fiiiiiine. I mean, what’s the worst that’s gonna happen? Spooky lawyer ghosts?

We could die! We could disappear like those other people!

Only if the Colonel comes.

“This house, if it is, in fact, inhabited by a demon, is by far the most dangerous location that we have ever investigated. As such, we have brought in a psychic to help us in our investigation.”

The new person from the third clip steps into frame. She appears to be an older woman with short, gray hair and loose clothes. She is wearing loose necklaces and an abundance of bracelets that hang off of her wrists.

Hello, my name is Lily, and I am here to help these two with their investigation on this Manor right here.

With that, the Ghoul Boys™ and Lily head inside of the Manor.

I have a Bible and my holy water.

You’re gonna be fine, Ryan.

I sure hope so.

“This episode is going to be rather out of the ordinary with regards to our other demon investigations, considering the fact that we have already covered the history of this house in our last True Crime episode. However, there are a few odd occurrences inside of these walls that were not covered in that video.”

The video cuts to black, fading into a black-and-white image of Mark Iplier. Ryan’s narration continues.

“This Manor has a long history of misery, being the place of many a divorce and untimely death, all of which were ruled to be by natural causes. Things start getting weird when the actor Mark Iplier buys the house for himself and his new wife, Celine Iplier, in early 1913. Investigators found a diary that is believed to have been owned by Celine Iplier. The entries in this diary paint a terrible picture -- Mark was being twisted into the form of a monster, wrote one entry.”

The image on the video had shifted into an image of Celine when Ryan mentioned her. Now, it shows an image of aged paper, with a message written in practiced cursive. A female voice begins to read:

“Friday, February 20, 1914,

This house has become more and more oppressive. I sense darkness within it, and I think that Mark does as well. I am concerned, for if he feels what I can -- he is not trained in anything beyond our world, he has no access to what is past our mortal realm. For the house to make itself known, even to him, is a sign of something terrible.

I can feel him changing, shifting; he has been ever since he bought this place. Hell, he changed the moment he set foot through those damned doors. I don’t know what the house is twisting him into -- I just know that I won’t like the end result.”

There is a sound effect of the turning of a page, and the image onscreen is replaced by a new one -- another aged piece of paper, the same perfect penmanship, a different message that’s somehow even more ominous. The same voice begins to read:

“Wednesday, August 5, 1914,

Mark hasn’t gotten a job in months. He quit the studio in June, and he keeps telling me that he’ll try for a job with another. He’s not going to, and I don’t have to be psychic to see that. He keeps wasting away in his office, today is no different. He keeps going to the wine cellar, but whenever I go, no wine is missing.

I don’t know what he’s doing. Mark’s beginning to scare me -- he fired our butler. Again. He wouldn’t have done that two years ago. This Mark isn’t the one I married two years ago, either. 

This house is twisting him, and I fear the image that he is being molded to. My concerns aren’t being listened to, either -- everyone’s saying it’s the stress of the War. That’s not it, wars don’t make men stay away from their wives for weeks at a time. Wars don’t make men fire staff member after staff member, or buy car after car, while doing nothing at all with the luxuries that they’ve bought. Wars don’t change men like Mark has changed.

I want my husband back. And I want this fucking house burned to the ground.”

Another page turn, another piece of paper. It’s still old, and still covered in Celine’s perfect handwriting. A new message is upon it.

“Friday, May 14, 1915,

Mark is dead, and whatever’s walking around in his body isn’t him. I’ve mourned and made my peace with that. The thing wearing his face is a selfish and awful monster.

It still hosts parties like Mark did -- the same poker nights that are always won by (the writing is redacted. Written over it, in white, is “The District Attorney,” despite the fact that the person that it must be referring to won’t even be the DA for another 5 years), the same cocktail parties for the sole purpose of social climbing. Those parties are the same as before, which is almost insulting. The only difference is that Mark, our friends and I used to make fun of the pompous jerks, afterward. Now he sends them home with everyone else. He never speaks to me, either.

Parties are the only times I see my brother anymore. I miss Damien, almost more than I miss Mark. But I know that Damien is within reach. I know that I can worm my way past the monster, if only for a few hours. But Mark is too far gone to even be contacted through the beyond. I fear that I will never see him again, even after I die. That almost scares me more than the monster.”

Another entry.

“Saturday, October 7, 1916,

William returned yesterday. He says to call him Colonel now, but I don’t think I ever will. It’s too impersonal, and it glorifies the War far too much. The War cost William his leg, and too many others their lives.

Will may be my only escape from the monster. He hasn’t let me leave this house in months, not even to see Damien. There’s a poker night on Tuesday, the 10th. I know that William will be there, and I know that the layout of the house will disorient him. When he gets lost in the house, I can find him. He’ll be away from ‘Mark,’ far enough away that I can convince him to run away with me. I know that he will, I know that he still loves me, even after our breakup, and even after my wedding.

I only have one chance to escape. William is my last hope, and if I fail, my fate will be at the hands of the monster.

At times like this, I think of my husband. My real husband. I miss Mark dearly, but I know that I could never bear to look at him if he came back. His image has been far too tainted by the thing that is wearing his face.

This will be my final entry. I am hiding this diary in the hopes that it may one day be found by those who may purchase this accursed Manor. Know that if I have mysteriously died or disappeared, it was caused by something taking the form of Mark Iplier. 

Know that this Manor isn’t safe.”

Well that was something.

That was an adventure. We’ve got body snatchers, we’ve got cursed houses, we’ve got reclusive husbands. Hell, this would make a great book!

(wheeze)

“These diary entries tell the horrifying tale of Celine Iplier, who was terrorized by the demon within this very Manor. It took the form of her husband, Mark Iplier, whom she was later able to divorce. She regained her maiden name, which has now been lost, along with many other names of those present at the party almost exactly four years later.”

What’s weird -- and I mean it’s really fucking weird -- is she did still disappear mysteriously. With whatever made itself look like her ex-husband.

That is weird, yeah, but it’s also four years later. I think it’s a coincidence.

But it’s four years to the day!

Coincidence. Although -- this does paint Warfstache in a whole new light.

It does, actually. He’s the hero now!

Good for him.

“Speaking of Warfstache, we are now going to be entering the room that matched the location of his supposed ‘séance room.’ When it was investigated, there was no evidence of anything supernatural at all, though it doesn’t hurt to look.”

The crew enters the room, which is set up with a table in the center. Around it are three chairs, presumably meant for Shane, Ryan, and Lily. There are three lit candles sitting on the center of the table.

We are going to be performing a séance in this room, the one where Damien and Celine allegedly disappeared. We will be attempting to contact their departed spirits, in the hopes that they will be able to give us answers as to the events that transpired in this house.

Shane, Ryan, and Lily all sit at the table. They join hands around the table, encircling it.

Close your eyes, everyone.

Shane, Ryan, and Lily all close their eyes.

We are reaching out to one or both of the twins Damien and Celine, who disappeared in this house in the year 1920. If either of you are present, please send us a sign.

Nothing happens for a moment. The room is silent, the only light coming from the flames of the candles.

Lily visibly shudders.

Something is here. I do not know who, or what, it is. Ryan, if you could ask your first question?

Yes. Are you Damien or Celine?

I -- I just felt a “No.” In my head. I don’t think that it’s either of them.

Are you, or were you, human?

Another “No.”

Are you a demon?

Lily breathes deeply, as if steeling herself.

“Yes.”

Ryan visibly tenses. Shane continues his questioning.

Are you the demon that looked like the actor guy?

Lily becomes unnaturally still for a moment, as if she’s listening to something that nobody else can hear.

It -- it says that it never looked like him. It never possessed him. It just ... spoke to him. Are you intending to harm anyone in this circle tonight?

Silence. The video cuts ahead, almost imperceptibly, as everyone is still in the same position as before.

Fifteen minutes have passed with no answer. The demon has ended the séance.

Lily opens her eyes and releases Shane and Ryan’s hands. The others follow suit.

I’m really freaking out now.

You’ve got your holy water, man. And your Bible.

I -- yeah. I have holy water and I’m not afraid to use it.

You think it was telling the truth? About not possessing the guy?

Are you actually admitting that a real demon was talking to us?

I’m not admitting anything. I’m invested in the story, though.

The story.

Yeah, the story. Was the guy possessed like the wife says, or did he just become a total douche? Fame can do that to people, you know.

You didn’t need fame for that, you dick.

Shush, you.

“After the séance, we’re going to be walking around the Manor so that Lily can get a general sense of the place and if there’s anything that she can pick up on that we haven’t.”

I would just like to say, before we leave this room -- I can feel something here. Unrelated to the recent séance.

Ryan hesitates, then says, 

Please elaborate.

Something ... bad ... happened here. In this room. I sense feelings of confusion, betrayal, loss ... regret. I -- hang on.

She moves to another area of the room, closing in on herself.

Something terrible happened, right in this spot. Somebody died right here. The thing is, though, I can usually sense if it’s a masculine or a feminine presence. I can definitively say that there was at least one masculine presence, the one that died in this spot. But the other ... seems to alternate between the two. And not in a natural way, either; it feels like a woman was possessed by something male. These ‘presences’ aren’t here right now, though, Ryan, you can relax.

Ryan had tensed up, but now he relaxed slightly after Lily told him to.

These are ... echoes of people that were here, ones that went through something awful. These echoes feel very similar to each other, at least, the masculine one and the feminine part of the other. I think that Damien and Celine did die here. I can also sense that they are still wandering this plane, still stuck roaming the mortal realm ... but they left this Manor long ago. We won’t see any of them tonight.

With that, she exits the room, beckoning for Shane and Ryan to follow.

“Our first stop is by an object that most paranormal investigators have agreed is one of the most active places in this Manor.”

The crew stops near a broken mirror on the first floor of the building. There is a large hole just to the left of the center of the mirror.

There is a lot of energy here. You boys might like to use your ‘Spirit Box’ here later. I can feel ... quite a lot, a lot of people, a lot of emotion, right here. I can feel an echo of a man, just over there.

She points to an area just past the mirror, towards what appears to be a room with large double doors leading outside. They are covered by curtains, and made almost completely of glass.

There is a sense of ... pity. Towards him, from someone over here. This mirror feels ... empty. Not empty as in ‘there’s nothing there,’ but empty as in apathetic. Someone fought desperately, kicked and screamed and did everything in their power to get someone, anyone, to help them ... but nobody came. So, they slowly gave up. The fight drained until they finally realized that nobody would, or even could, save them. Now they’re trapped in the eternal hell of the mirror, abandoned by those they thought to be friends. I ... don’t know where that came from, I’m sorry.

Don’t be.

Well, I can tell you that the presence in the mirror was human, but now they’re a spirit. Neither a masculine nor feminine presence, but I think that that discrepancy is a natural one. I can also feel ... something familiar, similar to the room we were in a few minutes ago.

The séance room?

Yes. It is only an echo, but it feels ... powerful. Very, very powerful. And ... angry. On a quest for revenge, hoping to right the wrongs done unto it. Them. It feels like multiple people in one echo, which ... I don’t like that. But ... that echo held the souls of Damien and Celine, but ... not. It was them, but broken. Only bits and pieces of their souls were pieced together into this ... amalgamation. I just ... I really don’t like the energy over here anymore. May we go on?

Of course.

Shane and Ryan hang back a bit.

That was intense. Maybe it possessed her? A bit? Or the thing in the mirror was lonely, and went kind of overboard in expressing itself. Maybe?

We can ask it with the Spirit Box later. Of course, I would not be at all opposed if you didn’t want to.

Why? You scared, Shane?

It’s loud and annoying and, frankly, if I don’t have to hear it then I wouldn’t mind at all.

Yeah, it is kind of loud and annoying.

Thank you.

But we’re still doing it.

*sigh*

The video cuts to the crew walking around various hallways and into various rooms. A few occasional creaks and thumps can be heard, but they’re all easily explainable as the house settling. It is uneventful, until Lily suddenly stops at the top of a balcony on the second floor. Shane and Ryan turn around to see her grasping at the rail with a white-knuckled grip, her eyes squeezed shut.

I ... someone died here. Someones, actually. Two people died in this general area.

Can you tell us if you have any idea of who?

Yes. I need a moment, though.

She walks back to a window that she had passed a moment ago. She kneels below it, her head bowed. She stands again.

I can feel it. A man died right here, very suddenly. I would say that I smell gunpowder, but I don’t smell it, I only sense it. This man wanted justice, he wanted answers for ... I’m sorry. I don’t know.

That’s alright. Can you give any more insight as to who he was?

Yes. Something about him is very ... fixed. He stuck to what he knew, and what he was familiar with. He always had a partner, even though none of them lived to tell the tale.

The Detective.

That seems to make sense, considering everything that I’m getting from him. I think his name was ... “Abe.” 

Thank you. Now, can you tell us anything about the other death?

Yes. It was over here, I believe.

She walks back to the balcony, gripping the rail. She never looks over the edge, instead staring into the camera.

It was just as sudden as Abe’s. A gunshot. They were trying to help their partner, though they didn’t blame the culprit. Everyone was high-strung at the time, and the Detective was ‘poking the bear,’ at least, that’s what I’m getting from them.

Their partner ... this must be where the District Attorney died.

This feels eerily similar to the spirit in the mirror.

One could hear a pin drop, with how silent it got. After a moment, Lily continued.

They were shot, and then they fell over this balcony right here, all the way to the ground below.

Lily looks over the railing, gripping it with both hands. Her knuckles are white, when suddenly she reaches out, screaming,

IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, I SWEAR!

It echoes in the hall for a moment. Everyone, even Shane, stands there in stunned silence. Lily retracts her hand, resting both gently upon the railing. She looks down. Her eyes are closed. She murmurs, softly, almost to herself,

It’s not fair, is it?

Lily shudders and looks up and around, coming back to herself. She folds her arms tightly across her chest and breezes past the camera, murmuring, 

I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll be in the last room.

The video shows Shane and Ryan looking at each other in confusion and concern. The video shows the crew chasing after her for a bit, then cutting to a room with a couch and a fireplace, with a hardwood floor. It is the room that was shown in one of the clips that was played at the beginning of the video, the clip with the flashlights. Lily is there, with Shane and Ryan. Lily is standing in front of the fireplace.

Are you sure that you want to do this?

Yes, I’m sure. The flashlights will provide a mode of communication, so nothing will have to use me. This will actually be the safest thing that we have done thus far -- provided, of course, that we continue to adhere to the rules of proper conduct.

What are those? We haven’t heard of any kind of rules, except for not to directly incite anything to speak.

No, that’s not what I meant. You received general advice, of the kind that could be used in contact with any run-of-the-mill demon. This one, however, requires a bit of ... decorum. Most powerful demons are like that, and this Entity is no exception.

What are these rules, exactly?

You don’t need to worry, I’ll let you know if you come close to breaking any. Just continue as you were.

Okay, well, if you’re sure ... 

“We are currently sitting in the room that contained the makeshift crime scene, that was supposed to belong to Mark Iplier. The area that the body supposedly occupied was in front of that fireplace right there -” he gestured over to the fireplace “- and it is also here that he reportedly died. Once again, this was covered in our True Crime video, however, there are a few supernatural elements that we neglected to mention. Specifically, Warfstache’s reports of the body having disappeared less than 24 hours after it was discovered.”

The “poof” strikes again.

(uneasy laughter)

“There is no evidence to suggest that this body was moved through supernatural means, in fact, there is also no real evidence to suggest that a body was even here in the first place. The crude shape of a body lying on the ground was constructed of white tape, however, it was not likely that it was constructed by actual authorities, given that no records definitively place a body in this spot.”

Not to mention that the tape structure had a dick on it.

Wait, really? Like, the real outline had a dick?

Yep.

(disbelieving laughter)

“Additionally, many tests have been performed in this area to determine whether any bodily fluids, fingerprints, or any kind of remnant of a human body was present in this area. All that was found was half of a thumbprint, which could not be identified.”

The thumbprint was in the general area of where the thumb would have been, judging from the tape, but that’s not enough conclusive evidence to say, “yes, Mark Iplier did die here.”

It could’ve been any thumbprint, from anyone who was making the tape thing.

Yeah. Personally, I think that it was Iplier’s, but some may not exactly be inclined to believe that.

Lily takes the end of Ryan’s narration as her cue to begin investigating the room for an echo or a presence of any kind.

There was death here, but ... I do not sense any emotion from the victim. That’s ... very odd.

The “victim?” So the person that died here, were they mur-

NO!!!

Ryan and Shane glance at each other in shock.

Don’t say that word. It’s a rule for this demon.

Ryan gives a shaky exhale.

Thanks.

But to answer your question ... yes. The victim was ... killed by someone else.

Do you have any idea who?

I ... barely. He seems very similar to the man I sensed earlier, the one who was pitied by something near the mirror. I know it isn’t much, but ...

Thanks anyway, Lily. Now, let’s get into Shane’s favorite part ...

It’s flashlight time! 

A flashlight is set up as usual, with the setting almost hovering between on and off. It’s currently on, but it would be very easy to turn off completely. 

Okay, my first question: is anyone or anything with us right now? Please turn the flashlight off if you are willing to communicate.

The flashlight doesn’t change for a bit. Then, slowly, it dims and turns off. Ryan tenses up immediately, while Shane hardly reacts.

For the record ... this does feel very similar to the demon from earlier.

If you’re a demon, turn it back on!

The flashlight turns on almost immediately. It is shining rather brightly, brighter than before. Ryan shrinks back a bit. Shane, however, is laughing.

Turn it off ... if you’re gonna kill us!

The light turns off, and Ryan screams. Shane laughs at Ryan’s reaction.

Okay, demon, just one more question before Ryan starts talking ... turn the flashlight back on if you’re gonna disappear us like those other guys.

The camera focuses on the flashlight for a few minutes, but it remains off.

Wow, we’re not even gonna be a mystery? You’re just gonna kill us and not even bother making it interesting? You have no taste.

Shane is shaking his head in mock disappointment as Ryan laughs uneasily.

I am gonna be slaughtered in cold blood, and when I do I want it to be a goddamned mystery! I wanna be on Buzzfeed Unsolved! Fuck you!

Ryan is laughing louder now, and is beginning to relax.

Okay, uh, let’s get down to business. Did you kill the inhabitants of this Manor in October of 1920?

The flashlight remains off, immobile.

I think I scared him off.

Try one more question, Ryan?

Okay. Did you enable, or help along in any way, the deaths of the inhabitants of this Manor in October 1920?

The flashlight remains off for a moment. Then, slowly, it dimly turns itself on. Ryan jumps, but doesn’t freak out as badly as before. 

I ... I think that we’re done with the flashlights tonight.

Awww!

Shane pouts, while Ryan grabs the flashlight and turns it off. Lily stands, and nods at Ryan and Shane.

It seems that it is time to make my leave. Goodbye, you two.

Lily begins to walk away, as Ryan and Shane wave a short goodbye. Then as soon as she is about to leave the room, she stops and turns back.

Good luck. You’ll need it.

Then, she walks out of frame.

Tags: @lildevyl @ghostly-quest @turtlecrow @sandinthetardis

[prismatic-starstuff]

Just a reminder: we’ve canonically seen Big Bad Darkiplier do a sick keg stand--

[lucimorningstar812]

ONE DRAWING DOWN ONE TO GO BITCHES

[awritingrose]

Chapters: 2/6

Fandom: Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom, Who Killed Markiplier Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Chapter 2

This was where she, Mark, and William had truly spent most of their childhoods. They’d run through the gardens and the trees, up and down hills. They’d taken turns playing King or Queen of the Castle, with the wooden gazebo down the hill as their throne (not the wrought-iron one on the patio, no; that was too close to the manor, that was not a kingdom). They’d first created the golf course from a spade stolen from George’s toolbox and flags made from sticks; Mr. Barnum had hired a professional to make them a real course based upon the design once he’d seen what they’d done.

She’d run from the gazebo for three miles when she’d been fourteen and trying to run away, never once seeing another soul or property line. Now, from her vantage point on the patio, she can see glimpses of a roof in the distance as the trees sway in the wind. More reclusive celebrities have made their homes here. Still, the trees are dense, and she feels the same sense of wonder looking out over the landscape as she’d felt as a little girl, when Mr. Barnum had had to lift her onto his shoulders so she could see the world fall away around them.

The manor and its grounds are beautiful. But now, without the eyes of a child, without Wiliam and Mark and endless games of make-believe, without the ringing laughter of a loving family, it feels terribly lonely.

Tess finds Damien precisely where she expects him: pacing by the gazebo on the porch, his cane tapping rhythmically against the stones. He’d always liked the wrought-iron gazebo better than the wooden one. He’d liked to eat with she and Celine there, looking out over the world or laughing as Mark and William each did increasingly idiotic stunts to try to impress--well, to try to impress Celine.

[i-got-a-bad-feeling-about-this]

The Healing String (Actor Marc x GN Reader)

Chapter 1

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 More coming soon!

A series base on this post. Basically a string of fate (Or red string) Soulmate AU where Marc can control the strings.

Also, you're not the DA in this story. I don't think the DA will be in the story but I will let you know if they are. Also, I did a drawing for this it's a very bottom!

Summary- Marc has lived a very interesting life and a lot of his life revolved around the red string of fate. We take a look at his life and what lead him to this moment. The moment he got another string of fate and met his new soulmate, you. 1846 words

Tws- mentions of cheating, trust issues, bad mental health, mentions the events of WKM (so very slight character death), manuplitation (Not of the reader), isolation, mentions of toxic relationships (Not involving reader), assholes, and talking down on someone.

My main man Marc actually went to therapy lol. No, but this series is not going to be all fluff so make sure to read TWs, I'll mention again if extra triggering topics come up. Basically, Marc learning to love again, and you two actually having a healthy relationship!

Masterlist

Join my taglist!

Spoilers for WKM, please read TW's before pressing keep reading

Marc has always loved the color red. It meant many things to him. The meaning shifted as he did. First, it was courage, then it was love, then anger, his power, and eventually passion.

His love for red has always been a thing so, When he finally got his red string he was elated. He was bursting with joy and couldn't wait to meet his soulmate. He had always imagined his soulmate being his fan sitting in the crowd, the string would pull them together on stage and everyone would see their love. 

When he did finally meet his soulmate it was a lot less dramatic than he imagined, but as he looked into Celine's eyes he didn’t care. All he cared about was her. 

He did everything for Celine, all he had ever wanted was her happiness. To say he was heartbroken when the string started to fray is an understatement. He cried for days on end and decided he would do everything in his power to fix his string with Celine. 

That never did end up happening. He tried so hard, and he couldn't fix it. When Celine told him about how her string with him had frayed but was repaired with the colonel, it broke him. 

The string was cut and so was his compassion. He had screamed at her to leave and never come back. The red from the gone string was replaced by red hot anger in his soul, he had given everything to her, and he tried everything to make her happy. All of that for her to break his heart and trust. He didn’t know if he was angry about the cheating itself, or about how long it has been going on. 

After that day, no one saw Marc for very long. His friends and family reached out and tried to help him but the red anger in his heart was too much for him. He couldn’t trust anyone and he had learned that the hard way. 

After about 2 years, his sadness lessened and his anger grew. She would hurt other people, he knew it. How cruel does someone have to be to cheat on them with their best friend? How could his best friend do this to him? He had so much pain and anger, they deserved to experience it too.

His mental health declined heavily, and very fast. This didn’t help when he started to look into the mystical arts. He couldn't bring himself to hurt Celine, a small part of him still loved her. No matter what she did to him he wouldn't ever lay a finger on her, the same could be said about the colonel. His pain wasn’t physical, no. It was mental, and he had no issue with hurting them that way. 

He planned the night he died for months, and somehow it didn’t go according to plan. Though Marc was a smart man, he made it work for him and he came out on top. 

That night Marc had realized something, he could now control the string of fate. The little red string that had caused him to break, was now his to control. He had so much power now, he could bend fate and that brought him joy. With a simple swipe of his hands, he could get whatever he wanted. Though the red string never came back on its own, it was always created by Marc.

After a while this got tiring. He was so tired, he had all the power and money he could want but that was not going to fix his broken heart. He tried many things, most were unhealthy. Then one day he got fed up and decided he was going to make himself happy. No one else could, so he took a leap of faith and started to go to therapy. 

His first therapy session was about 3 years ago and while he wasn't healed totally; he was much healthier now. He had worked his way back into acting and was in bigger roles now.

 He had rediscovered his love for acting. It was a coping mechanism for him and helped him stop abusing his power. On occasion he would still warp the string of fate, sometimes for selfish reasons, sometimes not. That's what led him to now. 

He was on set for the movie he was starring in. It was a classic action and romance, it was a fun script made by an amazing team of people. So when he had heard they were going to replace the young and upcoming director he refused. With a few quick swipes of his hands and a few magic words, the director not only was allowed to stay but had also been greenlighted for another movie. It was worth it to see the young director happy. 

He sat in his chair, a custom-made one he brought onto sets with him. With red velvet cushions and fancy carved wood, it screamed Marc. 

As he sat in the chair he inspected the red string attached to his thumb, he always left the pinky open in case he ever got another soulmate. He let out a sigh and swiped his hand above it. 

A red glow untied the string from his hand, and the string moved from him, back to the person's original soulmate. 

He will manipulate people, but he refuses to cut the string. He wouldn't let anyone he cares about go through the same pain as him. The only time he had to guarantee the safety of someone. 

He groaned and leaned against his chair, face against his hand. He was waiting in his room until they needed him on set. It helped recharge his social battery, which he had learned would help him feel less overwhelmed. 

 He wore his costume, a simple white dress shirt, rolled to his sleeves, and gray dress pants. The only difference was the hair clip in his hair keeping it from moving. The stylist worked so hard on his hair and he would be damned if he made them do that again, plus he hated having his hair and makeup down.

He closed his eyes letting himself have a moment of peace and rest before he felt a disturbance around him. His eyes shot open and found nothing, it was a disturbance in the mystic world. He shook his head, not his problem. 

Well, it wasn't his problem until he felt something wrap around his finger, his face contorted with shock as he saw a red string tie itself around his pinky and shoot out of the room. 

He held up his hand and looked at it. It couldn't be real could it, maybe he created it by accident? He waved a hand to try and untie it and it didn’t work. 

He stood from his chair, as he felt something he hadn't felt in years. 

He felt hopeful and scared. He wanted to love again and always yearned for it but couldn't stand the idea of another heartbreak. He stood there debating what he should do.

As if fate was encouraging him, the string pulled, taught, and glowed. His new soulmate was close. His heart raced in his chest as he quickly left the room. 

He was scared of getting hurt again, but he had to know who. Who could love him after everything he's done and been through? Fate gave him another chance and he’d rather die again than risk losing it. 

As he walked down the hall of the studio people looked at him confused, he didn't care, not now. He was about to leave the specific building they were filming in, when he felt a hand stop him, the director.

“Marc, where are you going? It's about time for your scene.” The director asked confused, Marc took a breath, 

“My string of fate is back.” The director gasped with a surprised face, “My soulmate is near, I'm sorry I promise I’ll be-” the director cut him off.

“What are you still doing here? Go! We can film it another day.” the director said, pushing him out of the door. Marc smiled and thanked the director before leaving, following the string. 

He slowly sped up until he was sprinting in the direction of the string, he wouldn't lose them, not when they were so close.

After turning the corner around a building he stopped suddenly and his breath got caught in his throat. Around a group of studio officials and others was his soulmate. You. 

You stood holding some kind of book in your hand and looking like you were trying to say something. You were so focused on the conversation you didn't notice the string go taught. Marc sped walk over to you and as he grew closer he heard the people talking. 

“I know in the source material they aren't in a relationship, but the audience would love that.” One person said you tried to interject. You were cut off, “Yes I agree it would be a great hook. “ You bite your lip. 

You're an author of a very famous book series and the studio wanted to turn it into a movie. They asked for you to be there and overwatch its production. Not that it mattered, they  wouldn't listen to you. The director was full of himself, and the writers and producers ignored you completely. You were about ready to call it quits. You spent so much time, money, and effort into these books and they were going to make so many readers unhappy if they kept on. 

“Actually, the whole point is that they're not-” You were cut off.

“I know you're the author, but I think it's best we do this. We are professionals after all. “ The director said to you, your blood boiled. How dare they.

As Marc walked up to you he heard the conversation and he grew angry. He knew this director and they were notorious for being a huge bag of dicks. So as he finally arrived behind you, he stepped to your side, so that he wasn't completely behind you and said

“Yeah, you're a professional douche bag. I honestly don't even know why the studio hasn’t fired you yet. I know plenty of better directors that would fill your spot very nicely. “ He spoke, 

You turned to him and froze, whoever this guy was he was beautiful and he was standing up for you. You felt your heart race and cheeks grow hot. The man placed his hand softly on your back, 

“I will personally talk to the head of the studio and get you another project. You don’t deserve to be working with someone so talented. “ He finished, directing you away from the group. You knew you should probably say something, but you were so enchanted by this mysterious man it slipped from your mind. He smiled down at you and you felt a tug on your pinky. You looked down and saw the red string attached to this man. 

Holy fuck, he was your soulmate.

Masterlist

Join my taglist !

Next Chapter

|| Taglist||

@authorracheljoy @orchid @crazy-obsessed-enbyenby @destructive-moon @tinyboxxtink @weed-gummymmies @clickbait-official

[ouch-rightinthefeels]

There's something coming... but life is ours to choose... isn't it? @markiplier

[faecaribou]

I hope I’m not just a content creator to you guys but also insane

ITS TWO AM AND GUESS WHO WROTE 1400 WORDS ABOUT THE GREATER INVINCIBLE II POLYCULE??? THATS RIGHT BABEEEYYY!!!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38223133

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Greater Invincible II Polycule (a.k.a. Y/N's best idea since sliced bread, except Y/N has been alive longer than sliced bread, because of WKM)     (YES THIS IS THE FIC TITLE ON AO3)

theres not really a plot, except Y/N solves everything by kissing everyone and its a happy ending and part 2s not out yet so i close my eyes and this is the canon ending thanks

Chapter 1: The First Loop

In all honesty, and with a lot of hindsight, having the ship wide polycule probably saved your life a hundred times over. Also, you think, staring at Gunther in shock as he points a shaking gun at you, the crew members by his side sharing the same look of doubt and confusion that you could see in your head of defense's eyes, it was probably the only thing saving you right now from getting your head blown off.

"Gunther?"

  You were something of a celebrity. It doesn't take much for a good captain's name to spread like wildfire, and the better of a person you were, the more people whispered your name with reverence.

That being said, it was a little disconcerting to see how desperate some of the crew members on the Invincible II were to get even an iota of your attention.

"I can park this shuttle with the blinds down," The Shuttle Pilot brags, slamming the blinds down to prove it. You furrow your eyebrows and take a glance at his Identification Tag.

D8198. You commit it to your memory. It feels important to you that you should know every name of every member of your crew, because it's your duty as captain to take care of them all.

When the shuttle crashes into the side of your ship, you're prepared- a good captain is always prepared, after all- grabbing the Shuttle Pilot and steadying him. He gazes at you in open admiration. Your hands slide down from steadying him by the shoulders to loosely holding his hands.

"Would- would you like to grab a coffee later?" He asks almost desperately. You smile back and with a gentle squeeze of his hands, arrange a time for the pair of you to share a coffee. D8198 lights up with joy.

  L5199 is pretty. Almost stunningly so. You're not sure if your breath is knocked out by the impact as she walks into you or from her beauty. She stares up at you in surprise. She hadn't been paying attention, walking along with her face buried in her tablet as you headed toward the bridge of the Invincible II for the first time since the start of the trip. You stare back at her, the moment seemingly suspended in time.

"I'm sorry!" She squeaks, and time moves on again.

You gesture towards her eye makeup and give a thumbs up. She flushes.

"Thank you."

Then she scurries along. As you should too, there's a schedule to be had.

  Sexy Crew stares at your interaction with L5199 in open jealousy and rushes forward for his moment of attention.

"Oh no," he says aloud with a dramatic flourish of the hand. "Captain, I'm falling! Catch me!" He sways forward in a trust fall, the kind that promises that despite the dramatics, he'll be hitting the floor hard without any strong arms to catch him.

You reach out almost on autopilot. It's ingrained in you, the instincts of a good captain, the ones that will never let your crew mates fall, even if its very silly and on purpose.

B5147, Sexy Crew's Identification Number reads.

He stares up at you in wordless surprise, like part of him had wondered if you were really going to catch him. You're a busy person after all, and sometimes the rumors describe you as rather no nonsense and straight to the point. Which isn't a fair descriptor- you're just an efficient captain.

You help him back to his feet and his eyes never leave yours. These two crew members are going to stay in your mind for a long time.

  It's stupid. It's goofy. Mark is going to laugh his ass off when he hears you say it out loud.

But Theory Crew is cute. You find your eyes meeting his as you give your speech, holding your glass of champagne, and as the warp care countdown begins, you watch in amusement as he downs his glass faster than anyone else around him.

You don't even get a sip of yours; Mark takes it.

"Mmm!" Mark gestures towards your cryo container as he places the empty glasses away, and you roll your eyes, leaning forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek before you step towards your cryo tube. Mark looks pleased.

  One date. You had one breath-taking date with the man, with the wordless promise of more, of adventures and heart-stopping thrill, and now he was ripped from your grasp. You curls your hands into fists.

Mark was gone.

  The Asteroid Defense System is offline. You stand in front of the door, trying not to let yourself succumb to the panic and grief of having watched Mark fly through the glass window in the bridge. You look at the two options in front of you, then back at the door between you and the misbehaving turret guns.

Wear a Disguise, or Wake the Crew.

You saw how Mark built those things. Like hell were you going to think for even a second that a disguise would work on them. You pull out your tablet and use the Wakey-Wakey Protocol to take Gunther out of cyber sleep.

With a bang and a scream, Gunther falls from the ceiling. You take a step forward, concerned, but he straightens up (or as straight as he gets; he slouches a lot) and removes his cigar from his mouth. You frown. He didn't have that in his mouth in his cyber sleep, right?

"The B stands for Bullet," He smirks, and heads toward you and the ADS room. You reach out with both your hands, silently asking for a hug. He accepts it.

"I hear you have a problem," He states, a question lurking in his voice. He takes a glance around. "Hey, where's Mark?"

Your eyes water and Gunther grimaces. "Oh." It doesn't take a genius to know that Mark would only stop following you around if he were dead.

Gunther squeezes you gently, once, before pulling out of the hug. "Come on Captain, don't fall apart now," he half-jokes, half-warns. You straighten up at the title. "You have a job to do."

He looks towards the door. "Don't worry, Captain. I've been through hundreds of battles. A few rogue drones won't get the best of me." He hesitates. "I'll be careful, though."

True to his word, he defeats the ADS with ease. "Give me a challenge next time," He teases, and you give him a kiss out of relief.

It's disappointing when the temperature suddenly drops.

"Do you feel that?" Gunther asks, but gets interrupted by the computer.

"Warning: Coolant leak in cryo."

Gunther backs up. "Sorry darling, but that's not my expertise. I'll keep working on the ADS, see if I can get it working the way it's supposed to, or at the very least, I'll man the turret guns to protect the ship from asteroids. That was supposed to be the drones' jobs, but..." He trails off with a shrug, stepping backward back into the room with a wink as the doors shut in front of him, leaving you alone in the hallway.

  It makes sense to just. Keep waking up the crew. They are very capable people, after all.

  Celci gives you a quick forehead kiss when she arrives.

"Mark found out the hard way glass windows and space don't mix?" She asks, but it doesn't sound like a question. At least she knows better than to gloat right now. She places the spare winter coat around your shoulders and steps into cryo, closing the door behind her.

Fixing the coolant leak is quick work, but soon she steps out only to pull you in. There's something wrong with reactor. Luckily, she seems to agree with you that waking Burt is the best idea.

  Burt confuses Celci sometimes, but when he steps out of reactor with the problem already fixed, she greets him just the same as she did you. You give both of them a relieved hug, thinking all the troubles are over, when the computer announces that the Warp Core is Unreachable.

  Even Celci misses Mark right now.