Thin Lines - A Markiplier Fanfic

Chapter One

I had never judged Mark as the tattoo type before, when I was nothing but a fan watching his videos, but then I got to know him. The real him. The real Mark Fischbach was a double edged sword, containing both light and dark. The dark side of him, while dangerous, could also be really cool when it was tame. It was the side that made him get his first tattoo while I was his prisoner in Cincinnati, and it was the side of him that made him want to get another one now. He was no amateur to ink now, of course. In the time that had passed, he had managed to get a couple more small tats, one on each wrist. His left wrist now had the dates of his father’s birth and death, to honor him. His right wrist read: Est. 1989, to show his own birthday in a unique way. I had gotten a few more too. My additions included the words “Never look back” on the back of my right shoulder, the word “Believe” on my right wrist, and the word “Breathe” on my left wrist.

“Well, we’re here. Are you excited to finally meet all your favorite tattoo artists?” Mark asked me as we stepped out of his car. I nodded. I knew a lot of the people at High Voltage, solely from watching the show L.A. Ink while it was still on. Some things had changed, but I still looked up to everyone working there now that it was years after the show had stopped.

“Hello! Welcome to High Voltage Tattoo!” the receptionist, who was unfamiliar to me, greeted us as we walked in the door of the shop.

“Hi!” I answered. I took in my surroundings as I did so. The shop was so cool inside. Guitars were hung up on the walls, along with tons of amazing artwork, and there was some edgy furniture as well. It looked the way it had when I watched L.A. Ink.

“Do you two have appointments?” the receptionist wondered.

“Yep. She has an appointment with Kat at three and I have one with Khoi for the same time,” Mark said, as cool and collected as he could possibly be. I, on the other hand, had a nervous feeling in my stomach. I wanted everything to be perfect when I met Kat.

“Alright, can I get your names?” the woman asked us. We gave our names to her and I looked her over as we did so. She had long, medium-brown hair, hazel eyes, a lip and nose piercing, and several more piercings in her ears. “Alright, I have some paperwork for you to fill out real quick,” she said, handing us each a piece of paper that needed basic info and signatures. It didn’t take long for Mark and I to get done with it, but we were early for our appointments, so we took a seat once we were finished. I looked at the tattoo artists walking around the shop with admiring eyes until I spotted THE Kat Von D, who was walking my way.

“Hey Claire, are you ready to get a new tattoo?” she asked me. My heart started racing with excitement and nervousness. She knew my name! Only because the receptionist had reminded her what it was, but still.

“Definitely!” I exclaimed, doing my best to appear normal. I was not about to turn into a crazy fan girl. Or I at least wasn’t going to let her know that I was one.

“What were you thinking of getting?” she asked me.

“A phoenix. A rising phoenix. In black and gray,” I told her.

“Do you have a picture or a sketch that you want me to base it off of?” she wondered.