ITS PRIDE MONTH BABY, WOO

I. Worked. Hard. On. This @gooseworx

Phantom Blot: Suspect has to speak Spanish to talk to shit about people

Ma begal: Nah, you didn't!

Phantom Blot: Yes I did

Ma begal: Oh yeah? Bet. Suspect moans like a little bitch in sound proof walls

Phantom Blot: That was one time! In *🤷‍♀️* when we went to Ohio for vacation.

Ma begal: You still did it!

*Magica Despell joins the call*

Magica Despell: Hello Begal and Blot

Phantom Blot: Oh hello Magica, what's up

Ma begal: Huh? Did I miss a chapter?

Magica Despell: What do you mean?

Phantom Blot: Yeah we can't say hi to each other like normal bros?

Ma begal: Normal bros? Oh hell no

*Pepper has joined the call*

Pepper: Huh? What's going on?

Phantom Blot: Nothing, She's just tweaking

Magica Despell: Right, like I treat Phantom like any friend would. Why is it so shocking.

Pepper: Friend?!

*Don karnege has joined the call*

Don karnege: Pepper I was eating, what happened?

Phantom Blot: Go back to eat. She's wilding over me and Magica being bros like come on now.

Don karnege: Bros?!

*Flintheart Glomgold has joined the call*

Flintheart Glomgold: Don I'm trying to sleep, it's 3 am here.

Magica Despell: Go back to sleep Flinty. Phantom are just being buddies and these guys are freaking out.

Flintheart: Buddy's?!

*Mark beaks has joined the call*

Mark beaks: You woke me up you wanker.

Phantom Blot: Oh come on! Is it really that shocking that Magica and I are greeting each other like pals?!

Mark beaks: Pals?!

*Black heron has joined the call*

Black Heron: I'm on vacation so this better be important.

Magica Despell: Go back and enjoy your vacation Heron, these guys are freaking out over me and Phantom Blot being friendly.

Black Heron: Friendly?!

Phantom Blot: You too?!

Ma begal: See what I mean? What kind of April fools prank is this! You two never get along!

Magica Despell: Oh please is it really that shocking?

Flintheart Glomgold: Yes? It is?

Don karnege: Name one time you two have gotten along

Phantom Blot: We always have?

...

Mark beaks: Even I can see that it's not true 💀

Ain’t no way Mark beaks’s mental heath is stable. Something must have happened to him as a child.

Honestly, a little tragic when you think about it. Mark Beaks’ whole thing is just someone desperately trying to prove they’re worth something, but doing it all wrong. The bitch needs therapy 😭🙏🙏

Do these stickers remind you of an artist? Cos I think Temu stole em 😭

waow

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

Other

Fandom:

DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)

Relationship:

None

Character:

Mark Beaks

Additional Tags:

DepressionMark beaks DEFINITELY has depression

Language:

English

Stats:

Published:2025-03-28Updated:2025-03-30Words:1,763Chapters:2/?Kudos:2Hits:14

Inner demon's

1anon1

Chapter Management

Edit Chapter

Chapter 2: A day at Waddle! (And also to see how much Marks inner demon's get the better of him ;P)

Summary:

Mark Beaks has everything—money, success, a company with his name on it—but none of it feels real anymore...none of it mattered, it never did.

——————————————————————

Chapter Text

The building’s doors slid open, revealing the sleek, high-tech office lobby that bore his name. But Mark felt like a stranger in it. ‘What are you doing? You’re just standing here like an idiot. Walk in already.’ He swallowed hard, adjusting the strap of his duffel bag before finally stepping inside.

As soon as he stepped in, he was met with the usual chorus of greetings-employees flashing polite smiles as they walked past. He then gave them his signature finger-guns. It was an effortless charm he could pull off but…it felt so robotic, and hollow.

His chest tightened as he moved through the space, it was filled with people who actually belonged here. With his heart pounding against his ribs it made it harder and harder to focus, but he managed to ignore it, forcing a smile to everyone he saw. After all, it looked like he had everything under control…no one knew how bad he was really falling apart.

Mark walked forward, but he wasn’t really there. His mind spiraled elsewhere, his thoughts turning sharper, harsher, as he made his way toward the elevator. ‘You don’t belong here. You’re just playing pretend. They’re all working, actually earning their place here—so beaks, what are you doing here?’

His chest tightened again, his pulse hammering in his ears. The world around him felt distant—blurry faces, muted voices, the artificial brightness of the office space that suddenly felt too sterile, too wrong. He barely noticed the people passing him, barely registered the weight of his own footsteps. He was sinking, drowning under the crushing weight of failure, failure, failure—

A light tap on his shoulder snapped him back. He blinked rapidly, suddenly aware that he had stopped in the middle of the floor. Miss Taffy stood beside him, tablet in hand, one perfectly arched brow raised.

“I was going over your schedule,” she said, her tone careful. “Are you listening?”

Mark forced a grin, shifting his duffel bag like that would somehow make him look more composed. “Yeah, yeah, totally. Hit me with it.”

She held his gaze for a second longer before continuing.

“Okay, well, after this, you’ve got the…”

She rattled off meetings, calls, and appointments, but the words blurred together, slipping through his mind like static. He nodded along absently, pretending. Just like always.

°°°

He was now in his office, he felt so tired.

Mark sat at his desk, staring at the untouched food beside him. A perfectly plated meal—probably expensive, probably something he once would’ve snapped a picture of just to flex online. But now, it just sat there, untouched, because the thought of eating made his stomach twist. He hadn't eaten in a while, why couldn't he just eat? ‘You don't deserve it, that's why’

He leaned back in his chair, letting his head tip against the headrest, eyes drifting to the ceiling. His office was pristine, sleek, designed to impress—but to him, it just felt cold. Lifeless. It was supposed to be a reflection of his success, of the empire he built, but right now, it felt more like a cage. A glass box where everyone could see him but no one really could.

The office buzzed faintly outside his door—muffled conversations, ringing phones, the steady hum of productivity. People working. People actually doing something. Meanwhile, he was slumped in his chair, hands limp in his lap, the glow of his computer screen casting sharp shadows on his face. His inbox was flooded with emails—some urgent, some not—but all of them felt equally impossible.

He let out a slow breath, running a hand down his face.

“Get it together Marcus.” He mumbled.

‘Just answer one. Just one.’

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but his mind felt blank. No words came. ‘...your pathetic’ The pressure in his chest returned, squeezing tighter, heavier.

A notification popped up—a meeting in ten minutes. He was supposed to pitch something. Something new. Something exciting.

Mark swallowed hard, staring at the screen like it had personally betrayed him. “What the hell am I even doing anymore?”

°°°

The office was nearly empty by the time Mark finally left his desk. The once-busy space had died down, the usual chatter replaced by the quiet hum of the cleaning crew working in the background. The city outside his window still glowed, alive with people who had places to be, things to do. But up here, in his high-rise office, it was just him.

He made his way to the elevator, each step feeling heavier than the last. His duffel bag dragged at his shoulder, and his body ached—not from work, not from anything physical, but from the sheer weight of existing. He should be relieved that the day was over, but there was no comfort in that. Just the knowledge that he’d have to do it all again tomorrow.

The elevator doors slid shut, enclosing him in cold, artificial lighting. He let out a breath, pressing his forehead against the mirrored wall. His reflection stared back, exhausted eyes dull and unfocused. ‘This is you. This is what you’ve become.’

His fingers tightened around the strap of his bag. The silence pressed in. He was going home to an empty penthouse, to another night of nothing, to a bed that felt too big and a life that felt too small.

The doors chimed open to the parking garage. He didn’t move right away, just stood there, staring out at the empty lot. The thought of driving home, of going through the motions yet again, made his stomach sink.

For just a second, he considered turning around. Maybe going somewhere—anywhere—just to feel something. But the thought passed just as quickly as it came. He stepped forward, letting the doors slide shut behind him.

Mark’s footsteps echoed through the parking garage, the sound bouncing off the concrete walls in an eerie, hollow rhythm. His car sat in its designated spot, sleek and expensive, yet it felt like just another meaningless possession. He unlocked it with a lazy press of a button, the headlights flashing briefly before settling back into stillness. He hesitated before getting in, gripping the door handle, staring at his own reflection in the tinted window. The version of himself staring back looked drained, like a ghost of someone who once had energy, drive—purpose.

He finally slid into the driver’s seat, the familiar leather cool against his back. The moment he shut the door, the world outside faded into muffled silence, leaving him alone with his thoughts. His fingers hovered over the ignition button, but he didn’t press it. Instead, letting a tired groan, exhaling a slow, shaky breath and resting his head on the steering wheel. ‘What are you even doing at this point?’ The thought looped endlessly in his mind, gnawing at him. He had everything—money, fame, success—yet he had nothing that actually mattered. And that realization felt heavier than anything else.

He sat there for a while longer before finally started the car, the engine purring to life, but he didn’t move. The GPS screen glowed, waiting for a destination, but he had nowhere to go. His penthouse wasn’t a home—it was just another empty space, another reminder of how hollow everything had become. He gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, his breath unsteady. For a moment, just a fleeting moment, the thought crossed his mind—what if I just kept driving? No destination, no plan, just…away? But he knew better. No matter how far he went, the weight in his chest would follow. With a tired sigh, he put the car in drive and pulled out of the garage, disappearing into the city lights like just another passing shadow.

‘YOU are the reason your like this’

——————————————————————

Notes:

Follow me on Ao3 if you like this stuff or is a Mark beaks fan!

1anon1

did you know you can edit the dialogue in CoM with a hex editor

Join or don't idc🤷‍♀️

https://discord.gg/JHGJhv9b

HI! Would you like some tips on drawing??

Yes please! I'm need help on drawing cartoons 😭

「 ✦ kіk᥆ ✦ 」

ᯓ★ | Lebanese 🇱🇧 ★ᯓ

✩♬ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺

﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍.

╰─ ♡ 🐇 ࣪ ִֶָ About Me:

୨୧┇Name: Call me Sisi or Kiko‼️

୨୧┇Age: A MINOR, ⚠️If you be weird Imma be weird back lil bro🗣️⚠️

﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍.

🎂 ˖ ࣪

╰─ ♡ My Favorites…

୨୧┇Color: Green / Blue / Purple

୨୧┇Animal: Frog 🐸

୨୧┇Music: Anything and everything—my taste is crazy! 🎶

୨୧┇Games: ACNH / LittleBigPlanet / Welcome Home / FNAF: Security Breach 🎮

୨୧┇TV Shows: DuckTales / Danger Mouse / Komi Can't Communicate / House of Mouse📺

୨୧┇Season: Winter ❄️

﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍.

╰─ ♡ Interests & More!

୨୧┇Likes: ~Disney ✨

I LOVE Mark beaks, he’s so goofy 😂

☁️⁺˖

୨୧┇Dislikes: The fact that I can't draw properly 😭🖌️