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buc-eebarnes · 2 years

Note

confessions when one character thinks the other is sleeping prompt pls omgggg

cheezy homie i always see u in my notifs and of COURSE i had to go all out on this !!!! sorry if it's late jfsdkljfsdkj jet lag got me conked out as soon as i landed but here it be! (unbeta'd tho 🥲 also trying out a different format 👀)

conversations with myself (about you)

pairing: head engineer mark x the captain

tags: confessions, sleeping, fluff and angst

rated G || 1469 words || read on ao3!

You huff out a sigh of relief. You'd been trying to chase Mark down all day, but his assistants kept telling you that he was in different parts of the base.

You should've known to check his office.

But there he was, slumped over the table with his head resting on top of folded arms. He must've tired himself out from all the projects he was micromanaging. You squint at the laptop to see what he was trying to work on.

It's a progress report. Multiple, actually. You stifle a sigh and look down at his sleeping figure. "Oh Mark, what are we gonna do with you?"

He doesn't stir at your words, which is a testament to how tired he is. You keep your voice low regardless.

There's a folded blanket on the couch, and it smells of him, a weird mixture of pine, oil, and the soap rations they brought from Earth. The couch must be where Mark crashes all the time, which pulls a frown on your lips.

You drape the blanket over him, securing the folds over his shoulders. He's gonna have a crick in his neck in the morning, but he'll thank you later, probably.

He looks so peaceful, sleeping.

You observe him for a while. The constant furrow between his eyebrows is gone. He doesn't frown in his sleep, but his lips are parted, and you can hear the soft puffs of breath he releases. His hair is a bit of a mess, as if he'd run his hands through it multiple times throughout the day, and you find yourself wanting to do the same.

"When was the last time you knocked out like this?" you mutter. Your hand touches a strand that's fallen in front of his eyes before you could stop it.

Reflexes kick in and you jerk back, but he doesn't stir. The only thing that changes is that his brow furrows slightly, but his breaths remain constant, and you relax your arm. You hesitantly take off a glove, and, before you can chicken out, reach forward to tuck the strand of hair behind his ear.

That then motivates you to run your fingers through his thick black locks, and it's as soft as you imagined.

You chuckle lightly, amazed. "Whaddaya know."

You continue the motions, and eventually, the wrinkles between his brows disappear, his features peaceful once more.

You drink your fill admiring him. Wide nose. Strong jaw. Big ears that stick out. Beard's getting to the point where it would break regulation but you're the highest official on this base and what Earth doesn't know won't hurt them, anyway. You look down at the fold of his arms, contoured by muscles. His hands, his fingers, that are so deft, made to create and fix what's destroyed. Why does everyone put you on a pedestal about looks when Mark is literally right here, sleeping soundly and looking sculpted by the gods himself?

"Everyone's blind," you mumble. "I don't hold a candle to you."

The urge to hold his hand is incredibly strong. You could do it—thread your fingers with his until he wakes, blinking blearily up at you with trusting eyes and whispering "Captain?" in a sleepy voice, and you suddenly feel small and unworthy about every single time he followed your lead without question.

And you feel the weight of infinite universes on your shoulders. Not once did you initiate anything more than friendship with Mark with all of the chances you've been given. He was always the ballsier one, more impulsive, more outspoken. As someone who has taken the mantle of a captain of a spaceship, you are an incredibly timid person.

"I wish I had your courage. Your tenacity. Your ability to take charge." You let out a humorless chuckle, and your fingers twitch against his scalp. "Countless universes, countless timelines, and we end up right back here. If only I wasn't a coward. Maybe I could finally ask you out on that date, y’know? To not worry about being a captain. Just someone going on a date with the person they like."

He doesn't respond, but you think you could see his breathing stop for a moment. It's a minute thing, barely there, but it's enough for you to cease running your fingers through his hair.

Did he hear you? Panic wells up in your throat. Oh god. "Mark?"

He doesn't answer.

"Are you awake?" you whisper.

He still doesn't answer. His breathing resumes again, slower this time.

You bite your lip, waiting for ten very long seconds, and you slowly pull your hand away.

You swallow down whatever feelings bubbled up to the surface and leave his office, quiet as a mouse. You lean against the door and close your eyes for a moment, wondering if you'd fucked up a friendship you'd spent these past few months trying to mend.

The trek back to your quarters is long. You get ready for bed and end up staring at the ceiling for the rest of the night.

Was he awake? Did he hear everything? If he heard everything, then he definitely felt you with your hand in his hair.

Sleep takes you, eventually, but the sun is starting to rise when it does.

"—and that concludes today's meeting. Please consult Summers for the minutes if there's an item you have a question about. I'll see you all next week. Dismissed."

The morning following the whole did-Mark-hear-did-he-not-hear dilemma is strangely anticlimactic. Mark greets you with the same gusto he does every other time he sees you, which is, to say the least, minimal. He doesn't give an indication that he heard you last night, or that he was disgusted by any of your actions. Frankly, it seems like he's avoiding talking to you, which is already the norm for your relationship these past few months. You chalk it up to your paranoia and gather up your datapad, shutting off the holographic projection on the table when he says, out of the blue, "I don't think you're a coward."

You jump nearly three feet in the air. The room had mostly cleared out, and any stragglers were busy talking amongst themselves, oblivious to the sheer terror running through their captain's veins.

"Jesus Christ, Mark! You scared me."

He raises an eyebrow. "How? I've been right here this whole time."

"It was unexpected, alright?" you huff, clutching your heart. "Give a person a warning, would ya?"

There's a fond smile on his lips, one that rounds his cheeks and narrows his eyes in a good way. That's when what he said hits you.

"Wait. What did you just say?"

"I said I've been right here—"

"No, no. The first thing."

"What, about me not thinking you were a coward?"

Your jaw drops, and every single cell in your body is screaming to run. He fucking heard you last night. He knows. He knows.

"I don't think you are. I never thought you were. I still stand by my opinion of you from the first time I met you."

You don't know what to do. He tilts his head down so that he can look you in the eye, and strangely enough, you find yourself unable to pull away.

“Captain, I’m going to be very presumptuous for a moment.”

Your mouth mimics that of a goldfish. “E-excuse me?”

“And I will go ahead and repeat myself again. You’re the bravest person I know. I don’t think you’re a coward. And even if you were, I wouldn’t think any less of you.”

You maintain eye contact, but you find yourself at a loss for words.

He steps closer, and there’s no malice or anger on his face. All you see is your head engineer, smiling at you like he always has, but there’s something clearer about it. Open fondness, affection, adoration. He tentatively takes your hand, interlocks your fingers together.

“I think you shouldn’t worry too much about being a captain. And I should probably take my own advice and not worry too much about being a head engineer. It’s a hard thing to adjust to when it’s the only thing you’ve known for so long.” He swallows, looks down at your hands. “But I’d still like to see what it’s like to not do that. Just someone going on a date with the person they like.”

It finally hits you.

You close your mouth, and you feel your features morph into something incredibly hopeful.

“I think I’d like to see that too,” you beam. Then, “Would you like to go on a date with me, Mark?”

The answering grin he gives you is blinding, and your chest is aflutter.

“Yes,” he squeezes your hand, saying your name. It sounds wonderful coming from his lips. “Yes, I would love that.”

buy me a coffee!

#cheezylueezy #head engineer mark x the captain #in space with markiplier x reader #iswm x reader #iswm captain #head engineer mark #iswm fic #iswm fanfiction #head engineer mark x reader #head engineer mark x captain #the captain (iswm)#iswm #in space with markiplier #my fic #captaineer #engineer mark x reader #engineer mark x captain #engineer mark x y/n

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leighsartworks216 · 1 year

Text

#1 Captain

Head Engineer Mark x gn!reader

This idea came to me very suddenly. It was like being punched in the face and being held hostage until I wrote it. It is now 1 AM. I did not proof read this so...

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 883

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White, shattered porcelain littered the floor. Its liquid contents were splashed across the room. His eyes followed the trail, dragging across the floor until they reached regulation boots. Dark eyes trailed up the figure, who was slumped in on themselves and panting, and his heart shattered, too. The Captain threw their mug.

Your chest shuttered with a strained breath as you finally realized Mark’s presence in the room. You couldn’t even bother looking him in the eyes as you scurried out, head down.

The Bridge was empty. It felt wrong to stand at the helm alone, but the Captain and Head Engineer had been dancing around each other for weeks since…

He swallowed the thick lump forming in his throat. Now wasn’t the time.

He tread lightly across the floor. One step crunched under his boot and he paused, wincing. He lifted his foot and carefully stepped slightly to the side, avoiding the minuscule fragment.

Deft fingers plucked and picked up every shard, all cupped within one gloved hand. When it became too much for one hand to hold, he, admittedly, floundered. Unwilling to drop all the pieces back to the floor and give up his self-assigned mission, however, he began shoving the handfuls of porcelain into the many pockets of his coveralls. Every once in a while, a fragment would poke through the fabric and into his skin. He would just sigh and readjust them.

His heart fell further into the pit of his stomach when he came across black-colored fragments. One of the largest shards read “#1”, though a portion of the number was broken off into another shard. He knew exactly which mug this had been. Memories of handing you a steaming cup of coffee after waking from your cryo-pod flooded his mind. Maybe it didn’t happen in this universe, but it happened in this mug… metaphorically speaking.

He slinked away from the Bridge with pockets full of porcelain and a heart heavy with grief.

“Thank you for your reports. Tomorrow we will be discussing supplies. Please prepare any requests for shipments before the meeting.” You fixed Gunther with a pointed glare. “Dismissed.”

Murmurs followed the department heads as they filed out of the meeting room. You’d been… distant lately, to say the least. It was easier now, after jumping through countless universes and endless timelines, to separate yourselves from others. It felt almost necessary. Some small part of your mind was always on alert, just waiting for a blue wormhole to open up and force another crystal into your hand.

You absentmindedly ran a thumb over the scar at the thought.

Someone cleared their throat, startling you out of your rapidly descending thoughts. Mark stood before you, shifting from one foot to another and fiddling with a box he held with both hands. He had held it in his lap throughout the entire meeting. “Captain, I, uh…” His eyes flickered to your palm and down to the box. He held it out, avoiding eye contact all the while. “I just wanted to give you this.”

The box wasn’t anything special - the ship wasn’t equipped with wrapping paper or fancy gift boxes. It was just a plain brown cardboard box, taped with a string in the middle for easy “unwrapping”.

You looked to him for answers. He just nodded toward the box.

Mark and you were on rough ground after everything. You tore apart universes looking for him, you held on even as he cursed the very air you breathed. You died with him after destroying the warp core, and yet neither of you could look each other in the eyes. You almost missed jumping across multiverses, if only to see him smile.

The string cut through the tape as you pulled on it. With a little more effort, the flaps were no longer taped down at all, and the box was opened. A shaky gasp fell from your parted lips, gaped in awe at the barest hint of the contents held within. Mark watched with bated breath as your gloved fingers dipped into the box and lifted out with them the cracked, put-together form of your mug.

Some pieces were glued back together, others were barely being held on by tape. The handle looked atrocious. The rim of the mug was sharp. It would not be able to hold water. None of the words were even or lined up correctly, yet the bold black lettering proudly read “#1 CAPTAIN”.

You cradled it in your hands so carefully, as if it contained a soul within and you didn’t want to hurt it. That said, your hands trembled and shook with the rest of your body as you fought back strangled sobs that tore their way free anyway. Fat, wet tears rolled down your cheeks in waves. They had been held back for too long.

Strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a broad chest and holding you firmly, being careful the mug between you didn’t get crushed all the while. Apologies sputtered from your lips, uttered like prayers begging for redemption. Mark just shushed you softly and rested his cheek on your head.

You would always be his #1 Captain, even if you didn’t feel like you deserved the title. And he would always forgive you, in every universe.

---

Tag List:

@writeawaythepain

@hyperfixat

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 years

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Mayhaps a Space Mark x Captain Reader?

So, you know the scene in Avengers: Endgame with Tony’s arm mangled from the Infinity Stones? I thought it’d be cool if the Captain had a thing similar to that, but less lethal, if that makes sense.

I was wondering if you could do something with the reader with serious ptsd from everything that happened, overworking themselves to the bone, realizing that the spot Mark yanked the crystal out had become infected or something. The reader has a horrible long and pulsing wound that goes up to their shoulder from having the crystal so long, and they knew it would scar, but this is so much worse, but they convince themselves they are fine, but then eventually Mark and the crew realize the reader is seriously hurt when the reader almost passes out in the hallway. Mark argues with the reader, telling them to just let him see, and they panic, knowing how he’ll react, but Mark finally pulls their sleeve up and finds the wound.

And stares. And stares, hearing CC scold the Captain and saying how they could have lost their arm to infection if they had left it like that much longer. He then shakily patches it up, not letting anyone else near it, because it was his responsibility. He did this to them.

Reader passes out sometime during all this, and when they wake up, Mark is at their bedside and won’t meet their eyes, bringing them water and shakily asking them what else they need, before the reader says his name and he just absolutely breaks down, sobbing, apologizing and crying.

Angst and comfort and pining and confessions please? 🥺❤️

'God, it’s worse than I imagined-’

“Ouch.”

Wincing as your fingers barely grazed against the pulsating wound, you stared at it in the bathroom mirror, wondering how you let it get this bad.

It all started when that damn crystal was ripped out of your flesh. You still remember how it was so painful you couldn’t even speak or cry out...you were just in total shock the whole time. And you obviously knew it was gonna scar, though it never gave you much trouble.

At least not until now, as it transformed into this horrid thing that trailed all the way up to your shoulder. The flesh looked like burnt muscle, with bluish blisters embedded in its mass.

Feeling your stomach lurch, you sucked in a breath and rolled your sleeve back down and put your gloves on.

You’ll deal with this later. You had other matters to attend to as captain. The duties didn’t stop just because the colony was getting set up.

Not only that, but you couldn’t tell Mark about this. Even after getting out of that messy timeloop, you never told him that he accidentally scarred your palm...and you definitely didn’t plan to show him what became of that scar.

He would be devastated.

And what about the rest of the crew if they found out and panicked?

That would be messy, and you hated messes. So you figured you’ll carry on as usual and see if your assistance was needed anywhere. Surely everyone was wondering where their trusty captain had run off to. It’s surprising that nobody’s spamming your messages yet..not even Mark.

But as you left the room and trekked down the corridor, your uniform suddenly felt unusually heavy. And you could feel your arm throbbing and your breaths becoming labored.

‘Maybe I just need to get this off..’ You figured, removing your helmet. However in doing so, the pain sharply swelled up and you hissed in agony, dropping the gear to the floor and startling a few nearby crewmembers--Celci included.

“Captain? You dropped this.” She frowned as she picked up the helmet and gave it back to you, though she noticed how exhausted you looked. “Cap? Is..everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m..I’m all good, CC. I just got butter fingers today.” With a tired smile, you tried taking it, though you nearly dropped it a second time and quietly cursed at yourself.

Now your sleeve was irritating the wound, and you itched it furiously.

“CC! Are you messing with the captain’s helmet?!”

You froze. ‘Oh shit..why now?’

He’s here, too.

“No, Mark.” The cryo lead huffed as she put the helmet down. “They have trouble carrying it, and..they don’t look so good either. Like they’re running a fever.”

Immediately, Mark’s glare vanished into a look of concern as he saw you sitting against the wall, and he knelt down. “Cap? Are you sick? Do you need anything?”

“N-No, no..I just..need a minute to rest my legs.” You tried staying calm, but it was failing with the anxiety welling up inside your chest. His staring didn’t help matters, either.

“Captain, don’t think I haven’t noticed. You’ve been working your tail off all day. And you’re sweating bullets. Maybe you should take off the jumpsuit-”

“No!”

He flinched at your shout, and even you seemed surprised as you shrunk back and clutched your arm. So much for trying to stay calm and not worrying anybody. “I mean..I..I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.”

"What’s wrong with your arm?” Mark asked.

“Nothing.”

“...then why are you holding it like it’s broken?”

“Nothing is wrong with it, Mark.” The panic was starting to settle in as you scowled at him, wishing he would just drop the subject. “I-If you don’t stop asking, I’ll...I’ll...”

“You’ll what? Demerit me for being concerned about my captain’s well-being?!” Now he was growing irritated, too. “If nothing’s wrong, then can I see it?”

“.......”

“Captain-”

“You’re not gonna like what you find..” You finally muttered, realizing that you can’t stop him. He was too stubborn and concerned for his own good...and you knew it was only going to hurt him in the most painful way possible.

But you just sighed and looked away, closing your eyes as you felt Mark gently take your arm and roll up the sleeve a little bit.

That was more than enough to horrify him.

You expected him to react with disgust, though when you bravely opened your eyes, he was just staring at it. Even as he took off your glove and found the crystal-shaped scar in your hand, he didn’t show much of a reaction to that either.

His eyes only stared and stared...

“My god..what happened?!” Celci was shocked, but you were barely able to focus on her words.

Your blurring gaze remained on Mark as, with trembling hands, he dug up a roll of bandages from his pocket and wrapped them around your arm. He did it as gently as he could, ignoring the concerns of anybody who walked by and asked what happened to you.

They didn’t understand.

None of them would understand.

Because only he knew what caused this.

Because he did this to you.

His guilt only grew when you eventually lost consciousness right as he finished, and he was oddly stoic as he quietly ordered the medical team to get a stretcher, operators, and medications ready.

It was all he could do to keep himself from breaking down in front of them.

..............

Hours later you came to and woke up in a bed. You sat up a little, recognizing your surroundings as the medical bay built within the colony. It was definitely more spacious than the infirmary back on the Invincible II, with your own individual room.

As you took in the scents of clean chemicals, you realized you were just in your uniform pants and sleeveless white undershirt. You looked at the bandage on your arm, covering your wound from fingers to shoulder. It wasn’t hurting anymore, thank goodness.

Though..it left you thinking about Mark and wondering if he was doing alright.

Then as if a higher being from above heard you, the door opened and you saw your head engineer stumble in with a glass of water. His gaze was downcast, refusing to meet your eyes; not even as he shakily set the cup down on the small table (which also held flowers native to the planet and get-well-soon notes). A few water droplets spilled, but that was the least of your worries.

Instead you watched Mark as he sat in the chair by your bedside, his head still bowed. “M-Morning cap, can I...get you anything else?”

He was very much not alright.

His voice sounded so monotone, yet so broken at the same time.

This was exactly what you dreaded. So you tried to be gentle with your wording so he didn’t think you were upset with him.

“I’m okay, thank you Mar-”

But before you could finish saying his name..he broke down into tears, hands rubbing at his face as he sobbed quietly. “Wh-Why...Why didn’t you tell me...I..I did this to you?!”

“I didn’t want you to worry.” You frowned with guilt. “It’s my own fault for letting it get this bad. You have every right to be mad at me.”

“..h-how could I ever be mad at you when I’m the reason you got infected i-in the first place?” With a tearful voice he finally looked up at you, face tinted red and eyes puffy. “You didn’t give yourself that s-scar...i-it was my fault..”

Your heart broke further as he choked out those words. Those exact same words he said about the warp core..

Indeed, it was a traumatic experience for both of you. Especially for him, knowing he’s hurt you several times and tried blaming you for all the problems he caused..thinking you were betraying him and the universe and...

But he just sniffled and looked at you directly. “The doctors..brought down the swelling and removed those blisters. Th-They said your arm would still be functional. Might take a few days, though..”

“That’s still good news.” You nodded softly.

“Yeah. Celci was going on and on about how lucky you were..not to need an amputation. God, I..I-I can’t even imagine if that had to happen because of me.” He laughed tearfully, voice breaking into sobs again. “I-Imagine me screwing up that badly, huh? Wouldn’t that be funny?”

Shaking your head, you sat up more to hug him, unable to bear seeing him this upset. And you let him cry into your non-infected shoulder as you held him as tight as you could.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, [y/n].” He didn’t mean to say your actual name, but he was so crushed by the “what ifs” and felt this gut-wrenching heartache inside of him--the fear of losing you or being the reason you lost a limb eating him alive. In this moment, saying your name felt natural.

“It’s alright, Mark. I forgive you.” You patted his back. Even if you only had one good arm left, you’d still give the best hugs that you possibly could to this man.

“Y-You’d still forgive me if-?”

“Of course. Neither of us could’ve known it could infect me like this. And if I needed that procedure to save my life, then..that’s fine. I’ll learn to live with it. Besides, I could get myself a cool robot arm.”

You heard him laugh a little bit through his tears, his stubble tickling your skin. ‘At least he’s feeling better now.’ You sighed softly in relief as you stroked his hair absentmindedly.

He gazed at you tiredly, a smile on his lips; though he did something unexpected as he pulled you closer and rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed. You were flustered, but shut your eyes, too, holding onto each other for a few moments.

After some time Mark pulled away, taking your hands. “[Y/n], there’s something I’ve..been meaning to tell you.” He cleared his throat. ”I was so terrified to lose you, both today and in that wormhole-warp core fiasco. I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to say this, so I’m going to right now: I...may or may not have...f-feelings for you that you may or may not reciprocate...?” He murmured quietly, averting his gaze.

Even he sounded unsure of himself, thinking this was too unprofessional.

Maybe it wasn’t the right time, but he was so afraid that there wouldn’t be a “next time”. Anything could happen to him or you or the crew tomorrow or tonight...with all you’ve been through there’s been missed opportunities and no second chances for some things.

And this was a huge risk he was taking--a risk that could end with him being heartbroken and you never looking at him as anything but a head engineer.

Yet when he nervously looked up at you, all he could see was your warm smile, feeling your hands tighten around his.

And in that moment he found no reason to fear or doubt you anymore.

Because you felt the same.

#clanask #anonymous #iswm x reader #in space with markiplier x reader #iswm 2 x reader #space mark x reader #head engineer mark x reader #captain yn #angst #hurt/comfort

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nevadancitizen · 2 years

Text

“apologies”

synopsis: after dying for the nth time, you finally get some alone time with mark to apologize for everything you’ve done.

word count: 1.6k

characters: head engineer! mark, captain! reader, doc mitchell from “fallout: new vegas” MWAOICNOV

trigger warnings: guns, infinite time loop, mark and reader being shot and dying but then being not dead

notes: i literally wrote this in two days while high as fuck and still am god bless markipler

The first thing you felt was Mark’s body underneath you, his chest slowly rising and falling. Your close proximity would’ve been very comfortable if not for the second thing you felt: unimaginable pain shooting from the side of your head down into your spine. It was as if lightning had taken up residence in your brain, but was still looking for suitable locations in the rest of your body.

There were men arguing. Shouldn’t you be able to hear them? Their words were more like boiling water under a pot lid, the muttering of something you can’t quite hear.

Mark shifted underneath you. You felt the pain start to subside. Don’t misunderstand, the pain was still very real and still very much torturous: it was just that you had started to get used to the feeling of an electric drill being taken to your brain.

“Captain? Captain, what’s happening?” Mark said. He started to struggle, kicking his feet against the ground in an attempt to sit up. He only stopped when you started cursing at him.

“Hey, cut the gas!” a voice cut through the fog of pain. “I don’t wanna listen to you whine.”

“Really?” another voice said. “You gonna talk ‘em to death before you shoot ‘em?”

You managed to turn your head just far enough to see who was talking. There were three men, one dressed in a checkered suit, the two others dressed in dirty leather clothes and bandannas. They were talking amongst themselves, but still kept an eye on you and Mark.

Slowly, you rested your head back on Mark’s body while still facing the men. “Mark, do you know them?”

“No,” Mark said. “I… I don’t.”

“I said to quit talking,” the man in the checkered suit said.

The man on his left turned to him and fidgeted with his fingernails. “Would you just get it over with?”

Checkered-suit didn’t even bother to look over his shoulder. “Maybe Khans kill people without looking them in the face, but I ain’t a fink, dig?”

You looked at him in disbelief. What was this man even trying to say? Were the other two men Khans? What the hell were Khans, anyway?

Your attention was brought back to checkered-suit when he pulled a shiny poker chip out of his inside breast pocket. Something about that chip was familiar. You felt Mark’s breath hitch underneath you. He must’ve recognized it, too.

Checkered-suit looked at the chip, turning and looking at it from different angles in his hand. “You’ve made your last delivery, kids. Sorry you both got twisted up in this scene.”

The two other men were almost balking at him, waiting impatiently for something to happen. Checkered-suit put the chip back and pulled out a gun.

You knew what they were waiting for.

“From where you’re layin’, it must seem like an eighteen-carat run of bad luck.”

The man on the left looked away. You weakly grasped at Mark’s coveralls. Mark grabbed your wrist back. Checkered-suit readied his aim.

“The truth is… the game was rigged from the start.”

You could barely register the shots that rang out before you crashed into the unknown black.

Waking up, still drunk from dying, wasn’t the best experience. The ceiling swam and your head throbbed even worse than before. The lightning had moved in and created a beautiful little family for itself.

A hand grasped your own. You hummed at the touch before shooting up, tearing your hand away.

You were laid in a tiny bed next to Mark. He was between awake and asleep, groaning and screwing up his eyes at the light. His hand was, apparently, searching for yours. It stopped searching after a few seconds. A dirty and bloodied bandage was wrapped around his head. You reached up and touched your own bandage, skimming your fingers over the gauze.

Had the man really shot you? Had he dared to shoot Mark?

There were footsteps behind you. You turned to see an older man, his hands up, approaching the bed.

“You’re awake,” the man said. “How about that.”

You looked at him and tried to talk. Your tongue was concrete in your mouth and your teeth were hot, molded-together plastic.

Your eyes darted around the room frantically. You started to get up, but the man rushed over and pushed you back down.

“Woah, easy there, easy,” he said. “You both been out cold a couple days now. Why don’t you relax a second, get your bearings? Maybe your friend will wake up too.”

You tried humming words and mouthing them for a second. Eventually, you managed to rasp out a “yeah.”

Mark would’ve looked peaceful while he slept if not for the excessive bruising and bandaging. How did he survive a bullet to the head? Hell, how did you?

“I’m Doc Mitchell,” the man said. “We’re in a town called Goodsprings. Now, I hope you don’t mind, but I had to go rootin’ around in your noggin to get all the bits of lead out. Some animal banged on my window and I nearly lobotomized the other one.”

Doc Mitchell laughed until it seemed like he realized that he actually could’ve lobotomized Mark. It wasn’t funny anymore.

Still, it didn’t really shock you to hear that you had died. Again. You hummed, tracing Mark’s jaw. He sighed at the touch, leaning into it ever so slightly. You really hoped he would wake up: sure, you had seen him die many times now, but it never gets any easier. Both of you were lucid and awake for every death, fully aware of every second of suffering. It might be labeled selfish, but you didn’t want Mark to die. You didn’t want to die.

“Anyway. I take pride in my needlework, but you better tell me if I left anything outta place,” Doc Mitchell said. There was an unsaid suggestion that said he might’ve stabbed you insane.

You tapped the palm of your hand with the side of the other in a sign telling him to stop. Mark hadn’t even opened his eyes yet, just writhed so weakly on the bed. Why was this man so eager to get you up and running? So he could say that his operation to bring people back from the dead had a fifty-fifty chance of success?

“Leave,” you rasped out. “We need… privacy.”

Doc Mitchell looked to the side and sighed. “Well… I guess I could leave you alone for a few minutes. I just need to check in to make sure that you don’t die.”

You nodded and watched him leave the room, which actually wasn’t really a room because the whole house was connected. But still, you appreciated he didn’t mention that.

Mark huffed in his somewhat-awake-sleep. It seemed like he was trying to wake up, like the jerky movements from his fingers were an attempt to say I’m alive, Captain, don’t mourn me just yet. You laid a hand on his chest and felt him breathe, then took him by his coveralls and shook him as hard as you could. A few pieces might come loose, but that would just make him the same way he was before.

“Mark, you idiot.” you strained your throat to say. “We die together or we don’t die at all. Wake up!”

Mark’s eyes flew open, then focused on you. He grabbed at your arms, patting them to make sure you were actually there. He tried to talk, but all that came out was strained gibberish.

“We got shot,” you said over his blubbering.

Mark stopped. He took his arms away from yours, and just sat, looking around at the room. Something was going on in that head of his – besides the slow healing of his brain, of course.

“We… got shot,” he repeated. His voice was as equally dry and raspy as yours. It almost hurt to hear. “And we’re still here?”

You nodded. “I think we should stay. For a while.”

Mark looked exhausted. He was still bloody and bruised from everything that supposedly happened in the past few days. He closed his eyes and leaned into you.

Tears started to brim at your eyes. You wrapped your arms around him and let your weight rest against him. Had this reality only come to fruition so you could realize what a shit job you’re doing at protecting your crew? Mark didn’t need to get shot for that.

“Captain,” Mark whispered, “I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Don’t,” you said. A tear slipped down your face and spattered on Mark’s coveralls. “Why are you trying to apologize? I’m sorry. Sorry for… for everything.”

The reasons you wanted to apologize wiggled and squirmed like a tapeworm on a hot skillet in your head. Their mouths were taped, practically glued shut, and yet they were still biting at their rusty-tasting lips, so that maybe they could say something through a little hole. But the tape was wide, and the glue had a grip of iron. Their mouths had grown shut.

You could apologize for everything in the world, and it still would not be enough. What had happened to you? Why can’t you just apologize?

“I want to go home,” you said instead. “Back on the ship. That’s home.”

Mark sucked in a breath and shuddered as he sobbed. His breath was hot against your neck, tears soaking into your coveralls. “We’re… we’re going home soon. Trust me, Captain.”

“Thank you, Mark.” you squeezed him tighter. “Truly, thank you.”

#riptide writes 🌊#my friends are getting tired of me talking about markiplier so tumblr is subjected to this torture instead #but i really do just want a hug from tha big man..#ALSO FUCK MACK!!!!!! MARK SUPREMACY #markiplier #in space with markiplier #iswm #iswm x reader #in space with markiplier x reader #markiplier x reader #engineer mark #engineer mark x reader #space mark #space mark x reader

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effloradox · 2 years

Text

it's not the same as it was

darkiplier x captain!reader, set pre-ISWM2

same snake, different skin.

The words echoed around your mind, like a memory you can't quite place. You couldn't remember who said it to you, or even when or where it had been said to you. You're not even sure why it's come back to you now, but watching as Mark argues with Celci for the third time today, it's there at the forefront of your mind. It makes you pause for a second, as you try to remember why someone called Mark a snake but the words seem to fade away as the argument worsens, forcing you to step in, and all you're left with is the nagging sense that you've forgotten something (or someone) important.

The next time you remember those words is when there's a borderline catastrophic problem with the ship. Gunther brings up the possibility of sabotage and it occurs to you (and potentially everyone else) that the only people with that level of clearance are yourself and Mark. The fact it returns surprises you, you've never doubted your head engineer before. You've never had reason to.

You're not sure if he can tell that somethings different, if he does he doesn't let on which you're thankful for. The last thing you need when the ship's announcing it's going to explode is to have an argument with the one person who can fix said ship. When it turns out that the computer just needed a system update and that's what was causing things to go haywire, you feel awful for doubting Mark but there's a small part of your brain that reminds you that the doubt must be there for a reason. Something must've happened to make you doubt Mark, if only you could place what it was.

It's only when you jump into a literal wormhole to try and save your crew and the colonists that the sentence suddenly starts to make sense, like a door has suddenly opened in your mind. You land in an area of perpetual darkness, the only thing visible is a desk about a foot in front of you.

"Do you ever tire of being paraded around like a trophy?" The question seems to come from the void, possibly behind you, but upon turning there's nothing but darkness. It's only when you turn back to the desk that you see him. He looks like Mark, but you immediately know this isn't your head engineer. There's something off about this doppelganger, something about being near to him that instantly puts you on edge. He's sat at a chair that wasn't there a second ago, and if you try and focus on him, he seems to flicker like some kind of projection on the blink. "Though of course you don't remember the last few times he's done this, do you?"

You want to ask him a hundred questions: who is he, where are you, what the fuck is going on, but for some reason your voice fails you. Panic slowly begins to sink in as one question rises to the surface of your frantic mind: did I die?

"I wouldn't worry too much about that. Death doesn't seem to be a permanent state for you, or for him for that matter. Death's never stopped him before and I doubt it would now." You're still trying to find your voice, to question what's going on but it feels like someone's stolen all the air from your lungs. It hurts in the same way that jumping into that wormhole hurt and part of you is waiting to open your eyes and find yourself in your cryotube again but another part of you knows you're not going anywhere until this...person has finished with you. It doesn't even occur to you that you didn't ask him if you'd died. Not out loud anyway.

"We don't have much time to catch up I'm afraid. That snake doesn't like not having you in his grasp, I'm sure he's already trying to work out where you've gone so he can rope you into his next great adventure. But whilst it's just the two of us here, let's enjoy the moment shall we? All your choices and it's led you back to me once more. I always did tell you that life is ours to choose, but I never really thought you took the sentiment to heart." It's only at this that your mind suddenly clears. Something about those words makes you snap out of your panic, though it takes a moment to work out why, to work out why you know those words. The fog suddenly lifts from your mind and when you look up, it's like you're looking at a whole new person. Instead of only seeing a twisted version of your head engineer, it's the face of an old friend that meets your eyes.

"D-damien?" Your voice is hoarse, but you suppose that not being able to speak for all that time will do that to your vocal chords. When you speak his name (is that still his name?), it's the first time you see a real emotion pass over his face, even if it only lasts a moment.

"Hello old friend. Let's catch up, shall we?"

#my writing #fics #darkiplier x reader #iswm x reader #in space with markiplier x reader

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thattiredanimator1t0mblr · 2 years

Text

| Mack..? | jacksepticeye!mack x reader | 100 word? Drabble

So…remember this reblog?⬇️

I said I was gonna do it…a-and here we are!

(Very small 100 Word? Drabble, set in 2/3rd person)

—————

“…software update complete.”

“Good morning captain, we are Currently ERROR years into our journey. Coffee is on route, current ship status.

aBUsOlutELy cAtaStrOphIc.”

Alarms blared, as you woke up from cryosleep. Still shaking.

“ I-I-initializing emergency wakey-wakey protocol.”

You immediately get thrown out of your cryopod. Getting up, you look outside the window and then realize that mark wasn’t with you, quickly going to his cryopod. Opening it, you find mar-

“Problem, captain?” Mack? This wasn’t even your mack. An explosion quickly happened, “um! Computer! Ship staus report!!” Mack yelled, or whoever Mack this was. “Access denied.” “Computer!!”

He turned towards you, with a confused look. “Captain are you alright?”

You had two choices,

1. Yes Mack I’m fine,

2. Who are you?

———-

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brenbrennn · 2 years

Text

More updates!!

GOING INTO WRITING EDDIES FIX-IT FIC MODE! So be ready for that to be coming out. In the mean time , I dont mean to sound nagging but my requests are open. You can just throw one in there in the mean time. My request information *also my pinned post* - https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/brenbrennn/685746934063005696?source=share

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thegayestmferintown · 7 months

Note

hi! i just found your blog and i’m excited to read more of what you’ve written :) could i request a markiplier x female reader (established relationship) where the reader has a bad parent situation but hasn’t told mark yet, and he one day brings up meeting her family and she’s all hesitant but he pushes, not realizing the reason she’s hesitant, so they go to dinner with her parents (who she doesn’t talk to often) and they are awful to her and mark and they leave early so he can comfort the reader? sorry for that literally being so long hahaha

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭! 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐥.

𝐀/𝐍 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬... 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐈 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐳𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲-𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐓𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭/𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭, 𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠... 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛 (𝐨𝐛𝐯𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬)

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬/𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐄𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐡

You and Mark had been dating for roughly a year and two months.

He was probably one of the sweetest, and best, things you could ask for.

Your relationship with him was.. practically perfect.

Except for your parents.

You had a decent job, your dream job.

And yet, that wasn't acceptable to them

You made sure to keep your parents away from Mark, despite having met his mother.

You had kept your distance from your parents for some time, until Mark asked the question.

"𝐇𝐞𝐲, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞. 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬?" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐱𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐩𝐞𝐝, "𝐔𝐡. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞." 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝, 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬.

Although, he continued to pester you. Not that you minded, you just.. didn't want him to meet your parents.

Eventually, he convinced you to give in and ask about having dinner that weekend.

Mark wasn't home when you asked, mostly because you knew how your parents would respond.

And your assumption was correct.

You told them you had a boyfriend, they asked how long you'd been together, you'd told them.

Then they started to yell at you, as expected.

Eventually, they agreed to the dinner. But you could just feel how your mother rolled her eyes, how your father stomped off as they both did when you were young.

At the dinner, you subtly made motions to show Mark that you'd rather die than stay there longer.

Your parents continuously made rude and harsh remarks that made Mark... kind of astonished that any parent could say that to a child.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲, 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐄𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦. 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

Once you both got home, he took you inside and sat on the couch with you.

And then you broke down.

It pained him, deeply, to see you react like that.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, rubbing gentle circles on your back and humming a soft song.

Once you were calmed down enough, you explained everything to him.

And he comforted you.

Then, the two of you sat on the couch, binge-watching all of your favorite movies, and eating popcorn.

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beybaldes · 2 years

Text

The Prying Hands Of Choice

detective abe x gn!reader

summary : "y/n and Abe reunite at Wilford's roller rink disco and fate does not seem to care."

Word count : 2.9k

~*~

Part 1 - The Prying Hands Of Choice

Part 2 - A Love Never Flourished

Part 3 - Somewhere, Somehow

~*~

Pushing past the pink haired man, despite his insistence that you shouldn't, you slipped through the rainbow of streamers and out into a dance floor. Not the most unusual place you had been dropped off at so far, but definitely the most fun: the bright, strobe lights and the funky 70s themed outfits all were a welcome change.

The broad shoulders entrenched in a suave leather jacket was an even more welcome one.

"Stop stalling! You're under arrest for the deaths of way too many people to even count." Abe. You hadn't heard that voice in what felt like eons - not since the manor, and however many years you had spent falling through wormhole after wormhole.

Your eyes filtered over to the other William, or Wilford as he had referred to himself as, that stood before him - near identical to the one who stood next to you now, bar the cocktail that he sipped from occasionally- boring down the barrel of his gun.

"Well that's just ridiculous I would never kill anybody." Wilford drawled, his speaking slurred as he tried to get the straw of his drink into his mouth; struggling severely besides the simplicity of the task.

Turning to ask the Wilford that stood beside you what was going on, you found him to have disappeared - like magic. Maybe there had only been one Will after all.

Were all those wormholes making you lose your mind?

Probably. You were seeing Abe after all. Abe who you'd watched die at the hands of the Colonel, shortly followed by yourself, after he'd spent so long, and tried so hard to solve Marks murder.

Although, if this is what losing your mind allowed you'd gladly embrace every twist of your imagination and echo of your past.

"Is that right?" Abe asked the pink haired man who stood in front of him, slowly lowering his gun with a twinge of anger in his voice. How long had he been so bitter?

Gently lifting your heavy helmet from your head, you lowered it to your side, holding it loosely between your fingers. You suddenly felt underdressed in your Captains coveralls - as though you'd have ever had time to change - that the outfit was too odd, too unlike the you Abe knew.

That wasn't you anymore.

The District Attorney who had worked hard in Damien's office, who tried to help solve their friends murder, who died trying to protect the people they loved, was long gone. Yet, was your new role of Captain much different from that?

How many times had you jumped into the wormhole? Jumped out of the airlock? Let yourself be consumed by the vastness of space? - to try and save your crew? To try and save Mark? Too many to count.

Perhaps Abe would love you, and your silly, little beret, all the same. Besides, you deserved to be a little selfish for once.

"Well..." Abe pulled a small, grey taser out of his holster, slowly stepping closer and closer to Wilford: who was still entirely focused on the straw in his Martini. "Whatever you say buddy."

The way Abe had spat out the words - as though they had soured on his tongue - did not befall you. Had he been through so much hurt since you saw him last? More than you knew.

Abe's heart ached for you; longed for you to still be by his side, be his partner (in every sense of the word). He kept himself awake at night in anguish, thinking and thinking about what he could've done to save you. After all, he had survived a bullet to the heart hadn't he? Yet, like always, he couldn't save the one who mattered most, his partner - you.

Was it his fault? Probably. Every partner he'd ever had at his side had left, been left behind, died - and he supposed by giving you the title, he had doomed you to such a fate.

He often wished he'd told you to run far away from that goddamn manor at the first sight of danger - but he hadn't, and he would have to live with that.

As Abe stalked towards Wilford, taser in hand, you let out a ghost of a sound - something between gasp and a whine - hoping to stop Abe before he took it too far, but not knowing the words to say, where to begin.

"Abe." You mustered out, hushed words coming out barely above a whisper, though it halted the detective in his tracks all the same.

Lowering the taser, Abe looked to the floor, tears welling in his eyes at the sound. Many times he had heard you calling his name, usually a whisper in the night - a comforting presence when he struggled to sleep - but this time felt too real. As though you were actually stood mere feet behind him and not 6ft below him.

He knew he shouldn't look - knew he would just be getting his hopes up over nothing. You were long, long gone. And a voice in his head is all you would be: yet like every other time he turned his head.

Though this time you were there. Standing, living, breathing mere feet away from him. At least he thought. He'd never seen the ghost of you before, only heard the echos of his past - but if this was him finally going crazy from your haunting presence, then crazy he would be.

"Abe." You chocked out, tears beginning to well in your eyes at the sight of the man before you. A hand came up to clamp over your mouth, to keep the pathetic whimpers in, letting your helmet clatter to the floor - the sound resounding around the near-empty roller rink.

Now Abe turned to fully face you, his eyebrows creasing together as he attempted to keep up his stoic appearance - this wasn't real, and he knew it. You were but a figment of his imagination; his own little secret only he had the joy of being privy too.

"You're not meant to be here!" Wilford slurred, his straw now loosely held between his lips and his martini almost gone. "I thought I told you to stay put y/n."

Will could see you too. Fuck.

Tears begin to rapidly fill Abes waterline as his eye raked up and down your figure - clad in a beige coverall, a little red beret resting disheveled atop your head and a discarded, cracked helmet on the floor. He doubted that it was in such condition minutes ago.

"I just couldn't help myself." You whisper breathlessly, your gaze never breaking away from Abes as you spoke. Finally getting to see him again, you doubted you'd ever be able to look away - not that you'd want to in the first place.

"Well, I guess I can it allow it for the mean time." William huffed folding his arms tightly across his chest, a sulk forming on his face. With a snap of his finger his martini began to refill. "But don't take too long, we've got to get back to our regularly scheduled programming soon."

You let out a teary laugh at Wilford's outlandish wording - ever the dramatic - a trait he and the him you knew seemed to share. Taking a few, small steps closer to Abe, you didn't speak, not wanting to get too close, or say the wrong thing, and startle him into disbelief.

This whole thing felt unreal enough to you, you couldn't imagine how it felt for him. Not only to see you now: but to wake up after being shot and finding you dead, and to spend years dedicating his life to finding your killer only to have you standing before him now.

"Partner?" Abe finally asked, his taser slowly being sheafed into his pocket as he finally took a step in your direction, not moving too fast as though that would make you disappear from his vision - gone like a wisp of smoke.

"Partner." You repeated, somewhat confirming his notion and somewhat using the term of endearment on him too. Talking larger and larger steps across the roller rinks wooden floor, you met each other in the middle, neither touching the other and both heaving in air.

"Are you- are you real?" Abe chocked out, his eyes flickering over every part of you he had been blessed with seeing again - free of blood and injury, filled with life and soul.

"I hope." Not the reply he has wanted, but it suited well enough. It was true, honest at the least - after falling through a myriad of wormholes you didn't quite know yourself, though you hoped now more then ever you were.

Taking another step forward, you were now chest to chest - close enough to feel the other breathe but far enough it could still be a dream.

A twisted dream at that.

Abe raised his hand to ghost above your cheek; almost too scared to touch you, to have you melt away under his finger tips. Though you didn't give him long to worry, leaning into the heat of his palm - skin meeting skin. Abe stilled at the contact, unnerved by the warmth that pooled in his fingertips and sent shivers up his arm and down his spine. You were once again in his arms - or were you?

Abe wasn't going to allow the prying hands of choice to drag you away from him again - in his arms, you would be safe this time. So, his hand swiftly moved to the back of your neck, pulling you against him and tucking your head into the crook of his neck; his free hand snaking around your waist and keeping you tight against him. Twisting his fingers into the fabric of your coveralls, he pressed you as tight against himself as he could.

You couldn't feel the beating of Abe's heart, but you hoped he could feel yours, assure himself you were real. He couldn't. Whatever resemblance of a heartbeat either of you had, had left you as you hit the floor of the manor many moons ago.

"Oh God, I missed you Partner." Abe's voice cracked as he spoke, the flood of emotion overtaking each of his senses. He pulled away slightly from you, enough that he could now clearly see your face - meet your eyes. Slowly, his hand moved from the back of your neck, coming to caress the side of your face. "But what's with the outfit?"

The two of you let out bittersweet, teary laughs, neither surprised by the capability to find such humour in the moment of upset and turmoil. It felt right to laugh in the others arms after all you'd been through.

You gently rested your forehead against Abe's, relishing in the moment and committing every detail of his face to memory - not knowing when you'd get to see it next. Though you hoped you'd see it today and tomorrow, and every day for the rest of your life - you couldn't exactly trust that would be the case.

Not when the crystal in your palm could start burning against you and whisk you away down another wormhole at any moment.

"I have so much I want to say." You spluttered, leaning into Abe's hand as you hiccuped out a sob. Abe's thumb brushed gently across your cheek, wiping away the escaped tears, hushing you soothingly. "I don't even know where to begin."

"Take your time gorgeous, we've got worlds of time." You didn't. Abe didn't know, you couldn't blame him for the way his words made you sob harder then before. Dropping your head into the crook of his neck, you grabbed fistfuls of his leather jacket, hoping a tight hold on him would keep him there with you.

"A captain doesn't leave their ship when it's sinking; now do they?" Wilford asked, his Martini once again empty and the straw still evading his tongue. "I believe our little y/n's time here is up. No?"

The warm-burning sensation in your palm only confirmed Williams words. Fate was not on your side; though when had it ever been?

"No." You commanded, though Will was right: you couldn't leave your crew to die by your lack of attention, because you were selfish enough to let the wormhole fester for your own peace of mind. "It's not fair."

"When is life ever fair?" William near spat - anger of a life he had once lived consuming him and leaving him just as quick. "When has life ever been fair to any of us? You're not special! You need to do what's right."

"Don't listen to him partner." Abe pleaded, his hands holding onto the fabric of the our coveralls tighter then he had previously; as though you'd slip through his fingers at the mention of going anywhere but with him. "I just got you back, I- I can't lose you again."

It was selfish of you, to want to heed to his words. To stay in his arms now you'd found them. And in all your lifetimes you'd never put yourself first, at least that you could remember. You'd given up your life, your body, your soul for the sake of your friends, for the sake of making things right - why couldn't you be selfish for once?

You had a job to do.

"He's right." You sombrely answered, removing yourself from Abe's hold with little struggle. His arms didn't chase after you, hold you close to him so you couldn't go - be taken away by things out of your control. He didn't fight this, didn't fight for you. "I have no choice in the matter."

"Life is ours to choose." Abe spat, the words bitter on his tongue. How many time a had you heard that phrase? In how many bodies? Tears welled in your eyes once more at the wave of grief that washed over you; grieving the life you'd never get to live with Abe, a life long taken from you. "Choose to stay."

Choose me.

"I would, if I could. I would over and over again." Your voice trembled as you spoke, leaning down to pick up your discarded helmet, not breaking eye contact as you did.

"Don't make them leave." Abe begged, turning towards Wilford - William, the colonel - pleading with the man he had spent the last decade, decades, chasing after. As though he had any control over the matter. "It's the least you could do."

Wilford didn't answer the man, instead he fiddled with the straw inside of his drink, idly sipping the liquid.

"Abe, it's okay." You soothed, taking a step closer to your lover, in some lifetime or other, though not daring to touch him. You'd already let go of him twice, and to do so again might kill you. "I'll find you. Somehow, somewhere."

"You promise?" You couldn't promise, that would be cruel. To have him lead his life in hope, in wait. You loved the detective far too much to subject him to such heartbreak.

"No. But I'll try my hardest." A bitter laugh left your sore and scratched throat, tired of the crying. "It's the best I can give you."

A hot white burn flooded your senses, the crystal that was buried deep into your palm glowing brightly.

"Ive seen so much more than you know, and it's means I know things. Like somewhere out there I've already found you; I can do it again. I will do it again." You reassured, wincing as the pain in your palm became unbearable, fighting against leaving becoming harder and harder. It was futile to resist.

"I hope you know I don't like this, not one bit." Abe seethed through his teeth, his eyes red and raw from both the tears he'd let flow and the ones he was trying to keep within.

Taking a step back from you, Abe stood closer to Wilford, giving you one last look over - relishing in the sight of you alive and breathing for what well could be the last time.

"Be safe, partner."

"I will, partner." A swirl of blue and white began to form behind you, the wind picking up inside the roller rink despite all the windows being closed. This was goodbye. Turning to face it, you had just about accepted your fate: but you knew you needed to be selfish for once. To have some peace of mind to get you through whatever mayhem was to come.

"Wait, Abe, I-" With a flash of bright light you were gone. Gone from Abe's grasp once again, slipped through his fingers like grains of sand.

"I know," Abe whispered, his glazed-over expression fixed on the spot where you had just stood. "I know."

"Well, better get back to our 'regularly scheduled programming.'" Abe sardonically spat, turning to Wilford and slipping the taser out of his pocket. "I have a job to do after all."

Abe would return to the roller rink before he knew, before he was ready to really. Though this time he wouldn't feel the heartbreak, dazed by the flashing lights and groovy music, he'd become entranced by the disco-loving Warfstache's antics and join in.

He'd dance to the upbeat music, moving in slow circles with Wilford and his mask-covered friends; deluded by the knowledge that you couldn't survive a bullet to the heart.

And he'd constantly find himself looking over his shoulder, a whisper in the wind calling his name, and a strange feeling that one day, he'd turn around and a person would be waiting at the other end of the call.

a/n : There's not enough Abe content so I decided to make my own.

If one single person wants a part 2 I'll make one because I already have ideas lol.

I hope you enjoyed! <3

#abe x reader #iswm x reader #detective abe x reader #wkm x reader #captain yn #abe the detective #detective abe #wilford motherloving warfstache #district attorney x the detective #in space with markiplier x reader

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riaswritingalore · 1 year

Text

Currently plotting an ISWM Wall-e AU... it won't be exactly as the movie but the main elements will be there.

So far what I have is:

Mark: A mix of Eva and Captain McCrea

Reader: Wall-e

Mack: Auto

I will take a bit to write it since I first want to put down the main events onj paper.

#in space with markiplier x reader #iswm x reader #iswm au #wall-e au

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buc-eebarnes · 1 year

Text

go in as a green light

He clears his throat. “Hi. Um. The crew told me you hadn’t gone to the mess hall to eat yet. I was wondering, if, uh…” he waffles a bit putting his words together, and when he’s finally able to speak, it’s a rush of, “D’youwannagetdinner?”

pairing: captaineer

tags: first dates, second dates, the romance route egos appear but it's comical, post-iswm, hold on ending

rated T || 4275 words

“Ah,” you glance back to where you had crackers and a hastily wrapped block of cheese on your dining table laid out. You’d been feeling sluggish all day and hadn’t wanted to leave your room. “Real food would be amazing right now.” The corner of his lips quirks up, and it changes his sheepish expression. “There’s something really good in the kitchen tonight. Chef says it’s your favorite.”

read on ao3 || buy me a coffee!

#head engineer mark x the captain #captaineer #iswm fic #iswm x reader #engineer mark x captain #head engineer mark x captain #head engineer mark x reader #engineer mark x reader #in space with markiplier fic #in space with markiplier x reader #iswm fanfiction #markiplier egos #porniplier #the captain (iswm)#mpcu #my fic

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amee-racle-ofmyown · 2 months

Text

the only You for Me

Captaineer drabble (Captain is reader) | Words: 381 | (fluff/sorta hurt-comfort?) | Read on AO3

From where he lies beside you, you feel a hand rest atop yours, calloused fingertips brushing your knuckles.

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Mhm,’ you hum in assent, ‘ ‘course.’

‘Were there ever any of the other “me”s that you… liked more than, well, me…?’

‘What? No, Mark, of course not. Why would you–? No. You're my Mark. Hey,’ You take his face in both your hands, gently making him meet your eyes. ‘I didn't go halfway across the multiverse just to find any old Mark.’

He gives a small laugh and you press your lips to his forehead before returning your gaze to look directly into his.

‘I'm sure the other "me"s out there have their own "you"s that they cherish in their own ways, and some of them could be enemies, in a sense, or even strangers. But that's their business. I love you. This you. More than anything or anyone — and I mean anyone. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that for you to fully believe you deserve it, or truly understand how much I mean it, but I'll remind you forever if I have to.’

It's dark in the room and you can just about make out his eyes and other features, but you can feel the slight tingle of warmth on his cheeks, imagine the blush tinting his face.

‘Forever's a long time,’ he says, voice low and soft and undeniably adoring.

‘Yeah, well, I think we both know the meaning of “a long time” better than maybe anyone. And in all that time — all those lifetimes, all those universes, I would always choose you, no matter what.'

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, using your upper arm as a pillow. His arms wind around your torso, pulling you close. You wrap your free arm over his back, stroking his dark curls and winding them gently, comfortingly, between and around your fingers.

‘I love you,’ he whispers against you. ‘You’re my whole universe, my everything. You're the only you I want, too.’

You want to wrap him up in your heart, deep within the warmth of your chest. But since you can't, you settle for holding him tighter, every night, and you never let go.

#sobbing I love them #this idea came to me when I was trying to sleep and I was half delirious but I had to write it then and there #I have since cleaned it up lmao #amee writes #iswm #captaineer #head engineer mark x captain #engineer mark x captain #engineer mark #engineer!mark #head engineer mark #x reader #engineer mark x reader #head engineer mark x reader #in space with markiplier #markiplier egos #markiplier cu #markiplier cinematic universe #markiplier connected universe

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jacksepticeye-simp · 1 year

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Confident (Head Engineer Mark x Reader)

Warning: This gets a little spicy, please click off if uncomfortable!

Your day on the ship was like any other. It was your responsibility to perform maintenance checks in order to keep the crew and ship in good condition. You were used to this routine, even though it was extremely boring.

Your head engineer, Mark, was the only one who made your job easier.

While you wouldn't admit it to anyone, you did have a small crush on him.

The details about him were absolutely flawless, from his raven black hair to his bubbly personality, and his eyes too... You could stare into those brown eyes of his for hours at a time, and then- Oh, speak of the devil, Mark messaged you! To find out what he needs, you open the message.

Would it be possible for us to meet in our quarters, captain? "I'm going to show you something." His message seemed off-putting. Maybe something was wrong or you were just paranoid. Well, it's good to see what he wants.

Not like he's planning to smother you with a pillow or anything like that. You placed your hand on the scanner in front of the doors as they opened swiftly. You walked into the room you shared with the head engineer only to find the lights dimmed.

You raised an eyebrow and stepped forward. Suddenly as if responding to your movement, multiple lights on a pathway made from flower petals lit up. Standing at the very end of the path, was Mark holding a sign that read 'Will you join me on a date, Captain?' You gasped in disbelief as your eyes locked on Mark's. "Yes!" You cried excitedly as you hugged him. He stood there in shock for a moment before smiling and hugging you back.

"Really?" He asked, wanting to make sure you meant it. You nodded eagerly and looked at him again. Your eyes hold nothing but love. A slight grin covered his face. "Hey, captain?" Your gaze stays fixed on his face.

"Want me to show you how much I love you?" He asked, leaning down to whisper in your ear. His voice is deep and smooth like velvet, creating a noticeable blush on your cheeks. You nodded, left speechless by his sudden confidence surge. Mark gently pushed you against the wall as he kissed your neck and collarbone. You just stood there, a blushing mess while he rubbed your sides.

"God, you're so perfect, captain." He murmurs while kissing your cheek. He leans ever so close to your face and puts his hands on your waist while you put yours on his shoulders. Both of you leaned closer until your lips met. You 2 shared a passionate kiss for a while before it intensified. Mark gripped your hips tightly as the kiss got rougher, and the 2 of you eventually parted for air. Mark stared at you, his eyes half-lidded. "So, do you like how confident I can be, captain~?" You nodded as his lips curved into a smirk.

"Then why don't I show you how confident I can get~.."

Made for @dontspilltheteaplease

#markiplier egos #x reader #engineer mark x reader #head engineer x captain #iswm #iswm captain #iswm engineer mark #markiplier x reader #iplier egos x reader #in space with markiplier

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 years

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Space Mark where he breaks down about the Captain having a scar on their hand from where he ripped the crystal and getting a concussion from when he hit their head with the canister

"Woah. Sick scar, cap. Where’d you get that from?”

Mark felt himself breaking out into a cold sweat upon seeing the large scar etched into your palm. You had taken your glove off as the material was itching it, but even you were surprised at how big the scar turned out to be.

And how it left the imprint of the warp crystal.

Not realizing how clammy he looked, you just told Gunther, Burt, and Celci a made-up story of where you got it from, throwing out whatever bizarre details your beautiful brain could cook up in that moment. While the group of leads gasped and sat in awe at the tale, only one remained completely silent.

The only one who knew the truth, because he was the cause.

Memories of what he did at the warp core came back to haunt him once again, as he remembers how cold and cruel he was to you. He ripped the crystal out of your hand with a pair of pliers like it was nothing, assuming it was just on your glove.

How did he miss your winces of agony and shock?

How did he miss the blood that dropped on the floor?

How did he..not realize how much pain he caused you?

As if that wasn’t already a bad reminder, you suddenly lost focus on where you were in the story, looking dazed as you held your head and shut your eyes for a moment, rubbing a particular spot on your temple.

The spot where he struck you with the canister upon entering the warp core.

It left yet another crack in your helmet, sending you tumbling to the ground and rattling your skull. So even with that protection, it still managed to give you a-

“That concussion still not going away, cap?” Celci slid an ice pack over to you. “You’ve had it for a few days, haven’t you?”

“Yeah..thank you, CC. I..just wish I could remember where I left off.” You muttered as you held it against your head. “Ironic how a helmet’s supposed to prevent this. Guess I’ve taken quite a beating on this trip.”

Burt comforted you with something poetic about how “difficult journeys often yield the greatest rewards”, though Mark tuned that out, sitting there in numbing realization and guilt:

He gave you a goddamn concussion. He affected your ability to lead, make decisions, and hold simple conversations.

He nearly compromised your very duty as Captain.

And for what? Because he thought you were some monster who wanted to end all of existence?

No..he was the monster all along. The one who punished you for his wrongdoings.

What was a monster like him doing at this table?

“Hey, asshat.” Celci spoke up, nudging Mark’s arm in a playful way. He flinched and looked at her. “Some little birdie told me you and Cap are finally together. How did you manage that?”

“Yeah, what’s that about?” Gunther huffed as he leaned his elbows on the table. “You’ve been quiet.”

“Indeed,” Burt nodded. “We don’t mean to pry, but we can’t help but be curious. How has your love unfolded-?”

“E-Everyone...I...” Mark looked to you for a brief moment, his eyes flickering to the scar, before he abruptly got up. “I’ll tell you later....I..gotta take a walk.” Then he left the table without another word. He felt his throat tightening up, eyes burning with tears.

He couldn’t face anyone like this.

Especially not you.

Concerned, you set down the ice pack and followed him, leaving your other three crewmembers confused.

..........

On the ground of the new planet, you arrived at your home. Knowing how often Mark visited, you only expected him to be here. A man like him was easy to predict...to a degree.

“Mark?” You called out as you entered through the automatic doors, wondering where he could possibly be. It wasn’t too big of a house, so it shouldn’t take long to find him.

However, you heard the sounds of sniffles and light sobbing coming from your bedroom. Your heart melted as you knew exactly what he was upset about, but you didn’t know it was taking this kind of toll on him.

Pushing the door open, you saw your lover curled up on the bed, face buried in his knees and his hands in his hair, crying his heart out. He assumed he was all alone until he felt the mattress shift weight, and he looked up to see you now sitting beside him.

“Mark, honey..”

With red, puffy eyes trailing to your scarred palm, he whimpered as he slowly reached a hand out. Then he paused, his eyes flickering back to yours as a silent request for permission.

You nodded and allowed him to take your hand, breaths still shaky as he lightly rubbed his thumb over the tissue, tears freely falling.

He regrets all of it.

The way he attacked you and screamed at you...god, he wanted to take it all back. He wouldn’t care if you did the same to him as payback. It would be much deserved after the hell he put you and everyone through.

Especially you, now that you have a permanent reminder of that.

Who does this to someone they love? Who fought across timelines to find him?

He pressed a kiss against your palm, only to shudder with sobs as he felt a thumb stroking his beard. Bringing your hand to the side of his face, you gently lifted his head up to meet your gaze. He looked so broken. “C-Cap..I..”

Yet all he could do was collapse against you and sob into your shoulder as you brought him into a hug. He tried closing the distance between you two as much as possible. His chest trembled, struggling not to hyperventilate at the crushing reality of what he did to you.

"O-Oh god, I didn’t m-mean...I...god, what have I done..!!”

“Mark, breathe..just breathe.” You ran a hand through his black hair, hushing him and rocking him slightly. “I know you didn’t mean to. You were angry. There were misunderstandings. It’s alright now. I’m gonna be okay. This scar will go away..and my concussion will, too."

“How can..y-you be okay with me making mistake..a-after mistake..after goddamn mistake?! You..should’ve told them what happened.”

“Why would I ever wanna do that?”

“..th-they already hate me. Might as well give them something else to hate..l-like how I attacked their captain.”

“Wha..Mark.” You pulled away slightly with a frown, tucking a fringe of his hair behind his ear. “Nobody hates you-”

“Bullshit. You heard e-everything they said! I’m stupid, incompetent, a-annoying...hell, every alien we met called me ugly, remember?” He forced out a laugh, sniffling as he bowed his head. “I-I’m just as ugly inside as I am outside-”

“Stop it.” You cupped his face with both of your hands, making him look at you. “You’re not ugly or stupid. Not to me.” Gently, you thumbed away the tears that slipped down his cheeks.

“But I-I was stupid enough to give you that scar and hit you with an extinguisher..”

“We all make dumb decisions from time to time.”

"Those..w-were the worst ones I ever made. I thought..y-you’d hate me after seeing that scar. The face you made when you saw it, and the way you looked at me after that...I-I just...I thought...”

“I was shocked, yes. But I’m not angry about it.”

“You’re not? Not even a little?” His eyebrows slightly furrowed with confusion. “B-But..it’ll remind you of how much I hurt you-”

“That’s not how I wanna remember it. If anything..I want it to remind me of how much I love you. Of how many timelines I went through just to find you..and how we fixed this together.” You softly smiled. “You’re a good man, Mark. And I love you so, so much. I don’t want you to ever doubt that, okay? Mistakes can be made, be it one or a million. I don’t care. No amount of them can ever make me hate you.”

The engineer’s shaky breaths slowly calmed down as he smiled in return, putting a hand over your own. No words could express how grateful he was to have you in his life. To have someone who never gave up on him even after you were blamed for all of his mistakes.

“Th-Thank you, ca--[y/n]...god, I love you, too.”

You nodded, pulling him into a tender kiss, feeling the salt from his tears. But at least they stopped falling at last. It broke your heart to see him retreat here just to cry alone, fearing that he ruined things between you both.

Yet nothing was ruined. Not one bit. If anything, this made your bond the strongest it’s ever been.

After sharing the kiss, both of you were breathless but happy. Smiles remained on your faces as you kicked off the boots, laying down on the bed and holding one another closely. Mark sighed as he nuzzled your chest, exhausted from his emotional meltdown yet relieved to still be in your arms.

He couldn’t imagine being anywhere else in the universe but here.

#it's hardcore angsty hurt/comfort hours today friens #clanask #anonymous #iswm 2 x reader #in space with markiplier x reader #space mark x reader #hurt/comfort #angst

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