Iplier and Septiceye One-Shots/Imagines

Mourning Christmas (Markiplier)

Date: December 25th

Day 1

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You sighed in relief and slight admiration of your own work as you put up the last of the Christmas lights above your house. Stepping back, you grinned to yourself in amusement; it was Christmas time, and there was no better way to spend it than with the person you loved.

Speaking of which, you had to call Mark.

You walked back inside to get away from the chilly frost-bitten wind, and you looked with pride through your window, staring at the glow of the pale yellow lights, all hung up and ready to go. You were sure Mark would love them.

So you called him, ready for him to come over tonight for a quiet time watching movies and enjoying each other's company.

"Hey, Mark!" you greeted as soon as you heard him pick up.

"Hey, love," he gushed back, making you giggle.

"Are we still on for tonight? I have my Christmas decorations all set up!" you told him.

"I'm sure they're beautiful, almost as beautiful as you," he just kept complimenting.

"Stop, you big doof," you laughed, pacing to the kitchen to make some popcorn.

"I'm your big doof."

"You're too cute. When are you coming over?"

"I just have to finish something up for a project Ethan and I are doing, then I'll be right over. It shouldn't take longer than ten minutes," he answered quickly.

"What's the project?" you asked, tapping your fingers on the countertop in a rhythmic tune.

"Oh, just something I've been wanting to try to do for a while. It involves a lot of s'mores."

"Please tell me you're putting them in the microwave to melt," you sighed, rolling your eyes at his demeanour.

"Well, the challenge sort of doesn't work like that, sweetie," he said cheekily. "We're filming it tomorrow, but I just have to send all the details to Ethan first. I'll be over in twenty."

"Alright. Bye, love."

"See you, darling. Nothing too gushy movie-wise, eh?"

"You'll just have to come over and see," you said in a sing-song voice, and hung up before he could get the last word.

Once the popcorn was all nice and done, you put it on the coffee table in the living room and then picked out a few of your favourite movies, setting them down on the table beside the food.

Then you walked to the Christmas tree, nudging the present you hid for him deeper, so he wouldn't be able to see. It was a new microphone, the one that he had wanted for a while. You had gotten it for him as soon as he said that he didn't want to spend any more money on equipment that was perfectly fine for what he was doing. You knew he deserved better. He deserved all the good in the world and more.

"All done," you murmured, looking through your supplies. A large bowl of popcorn, a few bags of candy, multiple movies or different genres just in case you felt like changing things around, and a blanket, hung on the couch. Mark would love it.

Ding!

"Speak of the Devil," you said to yourself, running to the door. He was a bit early, but it wasn't like you minded at all. You wanted to spend as much time as possible with your ever-working boyfriend. Sometimes you thought he worked himself to the bone, but you knew it was what he loved, so it wasn't affecting him too much.

But it wasn't Mark who was at the door. It was a police officer, with a solemn look.

"(Y/N)?" he asked in a quiet, but firm tone.

"Y-yes, that's me," you breathed, wondering what was going on. The lights on the police cruiser were flashing red and blue.

"You are an acquaintance of Mark Fischbach?"

"Yes," you repeated. "What happened with the goof?"

"He... I'm sorry to tell you this... there's been an accident. Police only got to the scene a few minutes ago, and I thought it best to tell the last known contact. That was you, (Y/N)."

"What happened?" you just asked again, your heart pounding wildly in your chest, too fast for liking.

"There was a fire... he didn't make it. Firefighters tried their best, but in the end, no one made it out." The officer took off his hat, bowing his head so he was staring at the ground. "I'm very sorry for your loss, (Y/N)."

"I... no...." You couldn't believe it... you didn't want to believe it. It happened so quickly and without any warning. "It's not true... it's not true!"

"I know it's hard to take in, and I really do hate being the bearer of bad news."

"He helped so many people. So many. And now he's just... gone?" you sobbed, falling to your knees. The officer crouched down beside you, slightly unsure of what to do. "I have to tell them. They need to know, they have a right to know."

"Of course. I was going to visit Mr. Nestor and Mr. Sheid right after you."

You just kept crying, burying your face in your hands.

"No," you said after a while. "I mean... yes, of course, them... but... the fans. They have a right to know."

"Of course. I'll leave that up to you." He helped you up and nodded to you again. "Once again, I'm very sorry for your loss. It's a shame to lose a good man like that." He turned on his heel and left without another glance back. You slowly shut the door and stared at the table full of food and goodies, ready for the perfect Christmas Eve.

As if you were in a trance, you slowly walked to your couch and sat down, staring at the window. You could see the decorations you had put up, just an hour ago. And all of a sudden, the soft yellow glow of the Christmas lights twinkling in the window sparkled like the dying embers of a burning flame.

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Word count: 995

How's that for the first day of Christmas? It'll get happier, I promise. But I wanted to give you a little jolt, just to remind you that sometimes I don't like playing by the rules.

Just sometimes.