Damien Markiplier Novels & Stories

“That was quick.” I sighed, grateful for the distraction. “Because there wasn’t any real training,” I muttered. Kai smirked. “She’s impatient.” Damien let out a soft chuckle. “That doesn’t surprise me.” He turned his focus back to me. “If you’re free now, you should come with me. I want to show you something.” I frowned. “Show me what?” “My workshop.” My frown deepened. “Your workshop?” Kai was the one who answered. “Damien isn’t just an intellectual lycan—he’s a genius. He’s the one who designs most of the warcraft and weapons used in Blackwood and beyond.”

“Since when did you care about my health other than paying the bills?“ Damian wanted to say he cares. Though he has been a dickhead but he keeps track of his recovery process. But he decided not to push it further. He swallowed past the bile rising in his throat. “I came to ask you about my family. My family's name is Stormrider. They are a member of the Cadman pack. Did you by any chance remember them?“

Meanwhile, Damian's expression remained icy as he walked up to Martin and questioned, "You wanted them to bash my head in, yeah?" Martin nearly peed his pants when he saw the look in Damian's eyes. Stumbling backward with a look of terror, he asked in a trembling voice, "What are you doing? I'm warning you! My father is Gary Cline, the chairman of Eagle Group. "If you dare lay even a finger on me, my father won't let you get away with it!" "Is that so?" Damian smirked scornfully before kicking Martin right in the abdomen. Martin's body flew over ten feet backward before crashing onto the floor. After spitting out a mouthful of blood, he lost consciousness.

“Who’s this Damien to you? He’s been… more than just helpful.” I froze, my hand resting motionless on my father’s. The question surprised me, and I could feel a flush creeping up my neck. “He’s … a teacher,” I said, cautiously. “ He is a substitute professor in my university. He’s also an honorary member of the Vellex Pack.” I didn’t know what to say about him—not without unwinding the tangled history of our first life, the mate bond I’d turned away from, the pain and need that still knotted my insides.

🌹 Damien 🌹 The underground safehouse was dimly lit, the harsh fluorescent lights flickering intermittently as the team settled into a rare moment of calm. The air was thick with exhaustion, the weight of their near-constant battle settling heavily on each member of the group. Damien leaned against a table, eyes closed, taking in the muffled sounds of distant gunfire and the steady hum of the bunker’s generators. It had been a long day—too long. The chaos of the mission still lingered in his mind, but for the first time in days, the team had found a brief window to breathe. They were alive. For now, that was enough.

“And this is what I get? You send assassins to kill me.” Kieran’s jaw tightened. “Damien, listen to yourself. You know me better than that—” “I don’t know you at all anymore,” Damien hissed. “If this is your idea of justice, then so be it. I wanted peace, but you’ve made your choice.” His eyes burned, dark and cold. “So I’ll make mine. This is the mark for a war.” Lady Miriam nodded firm. “My pack stands with Damien,” he said. “This isn’t the first time blood has been spilled under Kieran’s watch.”

she said, reaching for my hand. "I'm sorry. "I said, squeezing her hand, "Alright, let's have it." "alright. So, it wasn't just a nightmare you were having. And, likely, all that you were dreaming about was possibly happening in real-time, someplace else." "and Damien? Who is Damien?" "well, Damien is the name of the master who toys with his members' minds. As it is, it seems like he might be looking for new members. He got one of my warriors today, and he almost killed a child."

I look around Zane just in time to see one of his pack members lurching toward us. Holy fuck… Damian. The guy whose ass I kicked during my first sparring match with the males. He isn't fully human, but he isn't full wolf either. Damian is somewhere in between, similar to a lycan, but his deformed legs are crouched and his back hunched over, like he physically cannot stand upright. The fur on his back is black and wild, spiked in every direction. His hands are human, but with claws, the same way mine looks when I’m fighting a shift, but the skin is sickly pale, like that of a corpse, and every blue vein is visible.

My heart hammered so loud I thought they’d hear it. “Who the hell are you?” The guy barked at me first, his eyes narrowing like he was sizing up if I was worth anything. He was a big dude, suit stretched tight over muscles that didn’t come from sitting in an office all day. His face was all hard lines, no softness for his kid or anybody. Damien’s dad, Victor. I’ll recognize him any day and any where. I swallowed hard and stepped a little to the side but kept close to Alex, my fingers digging into his shoulder just enough to say don’t screw this up. “I’m Mark, his friend. Crashed here after some shit went down. What do you want?”

Mark shook his head swiftly, “A nobody never. You won't do that.” Mark slowly turned as his gaze was locked with Damian who was fuming terribly with anger as he strutted towards me. Damian’s sullen face followed him as he walked over to me. The looks on Damian's face were probably revealing he had something evil in mind. “You have nothing to worry about, okay? I just wanted to make sure you are alright,” Mark said calmly as I looked at him nodding my head in reply. I wasn't so confident in his words but I nodded my head and I didn't just know why.