#markiplier egos fanfic

[yuckie-obsessive]

Did You Miss Me?

Remembered ADWM when Dark says, “Did you miss me? I missed you- very much.” And now I wanna make a drabble on it.

Maybe a little variation on what happens in ADWM. Thinking of making a new HC where he can’t touch you unless you give him permission or initiate it first. Of course he can ask for it or give vague gestures in hopes you will accept him.

Darkiplier x Reader (gender neutral)

Set up: essentially the same intro as ADWM, but a little more intimate. Sfw only tho

~★~

You had become extremely disoriented from the rough switch in atmosphere. The ringing that echoed within your mind was not helping either. Your date was no where to be found and neither was the stage.

“Hello, darling.” A disembodied voice greeted. Then a monochrome figure appeared in front of you, though it was difficult to keep eyes on him when he was surrounded by blue and red doubles.

He straightened at your distress and the visual glitching subsided slightly.

He cleared his throat, “I missed you, dear. It’s been quite some time wouldn’t you say?” He took a step forward, extending a hand, only for you to take a step back in confusion. He clenched his hand and let it fall.

“My apologies, this must seem rather forward. Though I must admit,” his jaw clenched, “I’ve grown tired of this perpetual game we’ve been forced to play.”

He straightened his already perfect suit and sighed, “It doesn’t matter… surely you must be aware of this cycle by now?”

You had felt rather caught off by the consistent, repetitive actions you had been forced to perform. You slowly nodded.

“Then let me further enlighten you,” he waved his hand to summon different visions of your adventure so far, even things that have yet to occur. “You must understand this was all his plan (y/n). I have simply disrupted this game, if only momentarily.”

“How did you-“

“This isn’t our first encounter. We have met many times in the past.” His expression shifted, but returned so quickly that you thought you imagined it. “It was brought to my attention that he decided to drag you along once again. A shame he continuously removes your memories of his games… our little meetings. Manipulating the plot to suit his needs,” his sudden harsh tone and odd shattered reflection startled you. He took a breath so steady himself and moved closer, now towering over you. “I can take you from this wretched cycle… to show you what we had together,” once again, he offered his hand.

“Please, (y/n)…” His voice grew strained, “Let me in... Let me be everything you need,” his head tilted to whisper softly into your ear. Dangerously close yet still refraining from contact.

You looked to his hand and cautiously moved to take it, but hesitated.

“I promise you this, your every need will be met. Your heart’s desires fulfilled… Let me protect you now where I couldn’t before. Let me amend my mistakes…”

You felt a great sadness from his words. Letting your naive trust get the better of you, your hand lightly accepted his.

The moment your hands connected, he rushed to embrace you causing you to gasp. He buried his face into your neck, reciting apologies and promises of loyalty. The air grew lighter, and for the first time since you could ever remember, you felt lucid.

He removed himself and held your shoulders. His smile filled you with warmth.

“Let’s catch up, old friend.”

[cozyenigma]

Sleepless

(Hope this was what you envisioned!)

Word Count- 1241

Request?- Yes

Summary- Late nights in space weren't out of the norm. Everyone dealt one way or another but it was easier when you had someone to pass the time with

Warnings- None

Insomnia wasn't a unique problem aboard the invincible two. Even with artificial day night cycles it was still a struggle to adjust to sleeping in space. You frequently found your crew trying to mitigate it as best they could, in their own ways.

Burt was probably the only one who actually tried to sleep on a schedule. Making sure his tea stash was stocked in the mess hall was always a wise choice. He was quiet at the best of times and even more so when he was short on sleep.

On the other hand, you had Celci. She had a meticulous plan in place for herself. Being the head of cryostasis probably had something to do with that. She limited her caffeine intake, screen time past a certain point, and certain foods entirely. Despite that, it wasn't uncommon to see her working into the wee hours of the morning. Or what should've been morning by earth standards. The stubborn scientist always reasoned that there was always more work to do so she ought to make herself useful.

Gunther... Well, so long as he had free access to a shooting range he kept that particular problem to himself.

You sighed, running a hand down your face as you walked down the hall. There wasn't much of a need to have a night crew with the planet right beneath you so it was blessedly silent. What you kept coming back to was late night walks. It let your mind and your body wander and, ideally, wear themselves out.

Your footsteps echoed softly as you neared the bridge. The usual silence you expected, however, was broken by soft snoring sounds. They only had you pause for a moment before continuing into the bridge.

His legs were poking out from under the console. Tools were scattered about his sleeping form, a wrench still loosely grasped in one hand. You shook your head and approached. Mark was the type to keep going until his body gave out on him, insomnia or no. Gently as you could, you reached out and shook his leg.

Mark jerked awake and lurched upwards, directly into the console. You winced at the clang and Marks following curses.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Are you okay?"

Clambering out from underneath the machinery, Mark looked up at you, still holding his forehead. "Captain? Why're you still up?"

You couldn't help but snort. "Pot calling the kettle black much?"

Brushing his tools aside, Mark stood up. "I wasn't up till a few seconds ago actually, thanks for that."

He brushes his hands off on his pants, giving you a knowing look. "And you still haven't answered the question."

Already you had similar snark locked and loaded to throw back and yet... You paused, looked out of the window at the expanse of space and the small, small ball you all risked your lives to get to.

"The usual," you said eventually. "Bonus nightmares included." You ignored how Marks expression softened at that. "I was just- trying to walk and clear my head is all. You?"

A long pause. A sigh. "About the same. I didn't even try to go to bed so, think you got that one on me. One of the crew mentioned the display had been glitching out so," he lightly kicked at the console, "here I am."

The laugh that came out of you then wasn't amused as much as it was just tired. "I'd say glad to know I'm not the only one but I kinda hoped you were doing better than I was at least."

Kicking his tools out of the way, Mark goes to sit down against the console, facing the window. "We're a team in all things, Captain. Even the fucked up nightmare department."

He pats the floor next to him and you take the invitation, sidling up next to him. The two of you both watch the planet below in silence. Tomorrow the efforts to establish a colony below would begin in earnest. Before this, the idea would have filled you with excitement. Now though... you were just tired. Mentally and physically you were exhausted and you were keenly aware of how much you needed the sleep for the day to come.

"You think they're doing okay?" Your confusion must've been obvious since Mark continued, "Back on Earth, I mean. What do you think they're doing back there?"

"I don't know... Probably just- living their lives, I guess," you muttered, looking back outside.The thought never occurred to you. That sort of peaceful normalcy with lifetimes, light years behind you now.

"I dont know," he sighed, "I just keep thinking what I'd be doing right now if I wasn't- hurtling through space, yknow?"

You hummed and nodded. Hesitant, you asked, "Do you- if you could go back and never take this job on, do something else, would you?"

When he looks at you then there's a faraway look to his eyes you'd never seen before. Well... one you'd only seen one other time. "...At the end of the day... No," he murmurs. "No I don't think I would. Knowing what all I do now. I'd do a lot of stuff differently but not that. I know one way or another I'd end up out here, in space."

You're almost relieved when he looks away from you again. Then you feel him knock his shoulder into yours."

Besides, someone needs to keep you on track, Captain."

You snort despite yourself. Knocking him back just has the two of you in a vicious game of trying to push the other over. By the end of it you're both laughing like only the sleep deprived can. An idea abruptly popped into your head and you would blame the sleeplessness that made you act on it almost immediately.

Shifting, you laid down and placed your head squarely in the middle of Marks lap. You could feel him stiffen underneath you.

"Uh-"

"You're a good pillow, shush."

After a moment he relaxes again, setting his hand on your arm. "Alright, whatever you say, captain."

You yawned, shaking your head. "When are you gonna stop calling me that?"

"Whenever you're not my captain anymore. Which I don't see happening anytime soon."

"Kiss ass," you muttered.

There's a finger poking you in the cheek. "Only if you ask nicely."

That sent you sputtering, turning to see him looking down at you with a similar expression. You could already see the blush darkening his cheeks and feel the same on yours.

"Uh-"

"Can we-"

You both stop. Then, Mark continued, "We're gonna just blame that on the no sleep."

"Yeah that- that sounds good."

There's an awkward silence after that. One where you just stubbornly stare out of the window and try not to think too hard about the man you're with. Eventually, that fades as the exhaustion sweeps over you again. You'd scoot back into him, the back of your head resting against his stomach now, and sighed.

At some point Mark would start idly rubbing his thumb across your arm. The presence of another person, the warmth of it, was enough for you to finally close your eyes.

When your crew mates both found you passed out on the bridge, they left you alone for a while. Not before some pictures were taken to commemorate the occasion of course but the two of you could use some shut eye.

[southerndragontamer]

You Only Get Three Strikes

This is my interpretation of how things after the amazing fanart by @andaboop went

Actor hummed an old tune to himself as he adjusted his tie in the mirror and flashed himself a grin. He had just finished up setting things up for the confrontation with Dark in their next encounter, he wondered if it would work enough he could bring out Damien again. He had sent his….no not partner, that was reserved for someone else…..like minded fellow? That sounded right, out to go through the plan Actor had crafted for him about some hero, magician? Whoever the target he was after.

He’d really lucked out in meeting the other, it was always nice to have a trump card in your pocket and though he was a bit…jagged around the edges the actor was confident that the shared interest in their respective goals would help him figure out how to direct those edges the way he’d like.

His thought process was derailed when the door was slammed open. No, that wasn’t quite right, it wasn’t slammed so much as kicked in so hard it flew to the opposite wall. He whirled around, cane in hand ready to defend himself as his mind immediately jumped to William or Damien only to blink as he saw the glitch there. His smile fit into place as he relaxed.

“Oh it’s you my friend! You gave me a heart attack there-”

His voice cut off by force by a clawed hand that snapped around it with the speed of a striking cobra, or a bear trap when it shut from the pressure plate being triggered. He gagged and choked and instinctively tried to pry away the fingers that felt like they were going to snap his windpipe in two. He attempted to kick as he was lifted into the air and slammed against the wall.

Anti’s face was twisted in a near wild fury, all his fangs bared and body glitching as the lights began to flicker and dim. His eyes were glowing like a live wire as he spat out, Irish accent thickened even further than normal.

“Shut yer damn mouth. I don’t wanna hear a sound outta ye, unless I say you can talk.”

Actor couldn’t have tried to speak right now if he wanted to, he tried to nod as his vision swam with black spots. Just as he thought he was going to pass out, or need to reconstruct his throat again, he was let go and dropped like a sack of bricks. He held in the gasp as oxygen flooded into his lungs and covered his mouth to muffle the cough as he looked up at the glitch for a reason why he’d suddenly flown off the handle.

Anti’s glare was like looking at a lightning strike inches from where you stood, the sense of if he wasn’t careful he’d have to dig himself out of a grave again. The glitch stepped back and manifested his knife as he started to absently twirl it in his fingers with the ease of someone that had wielded a blade for a long time.

“I was willing to give ye a chance ya know, at working together. You talk a big game pretty boy. But you can’t cash it. I went with that ‘plan’ of yours that ye made for me. And do you wanna know what happened?”

Actor felt his stomach start to knot and sink, his heart picked up and he felt the hair raise on the back of his neck at the way the lights flickered and threatened to pop, sparks arced off of the glitch’s skin as his voice dropped into a growling hiss.

“I had the magician about to collapse at my feet when the damned timekeeper intervened. They got away from me. Oh I can find em again, easy as breathing, my strings don’t allow any less. But it’s the principle of it all.”

Actor resisted the urge to hunch in on himself as Anti’s head snapped around at a sickeningly off angle and speed and instead he began to try to save face, backpedal as he stood up. His best apologetic expression on as he tried to keep from going out of the frying pan into the fire. His eyes shone a brighter red and he weaved his own kind of power into his words like red ribbon braided together to hide blood.

“I’m sorry that it didn’t work like I intended friend, but I didn’t take everything into account it seems when I made my plan.”

That was as far as the ‘apology’, because such a word was only proper in a true sense of remorse for actions, got as he found his jaw exploded in pain from the literally lightning fast blow to one side. He felt bone crunch and fracture as he collapsed to the floor and held his jaw in place as it began to repair itself.

Only to choke and blood to spurt out of his mouth by the sharp kick that echoed with the cracking of ribs, just as quickly he was hauled up by the collar of his suit and the knife was pressed deeply against his skin. Ruby droplets trailed down the edge of the blade as Anti half snarled.

“I told you. Not. A. Sound. You must not have much grey matter between your ears, or you’re just a glutton to get your arse beaten. So let me explain this in a way you’ll be sure to understand.”

Actor winced and his eyes squinted as the glowering, searing light of Anti’s eyes were right in front of him. The knife cut in just a bit deeper into his skin. The glitch’s tone went from utterly furious about to stab someone, to calm and measured and almost cold rage that was somehow almost more terrifying.

“If you’re not one of my puppets, you get three strikes. Your first mistake was fockin things up for me reclaiming one of mine. The second one was the half-arsed, shite apology ya tried to make.”

And Anti grinned, slow and cruel and his eyes had a sadistic glint in them as he chuckled and finished in an almost croon. The lights shone green and the white noise of static snow started to hurt Actor’s ears enough to make him wince and he swore for a second something started to bleed.

“Your final strike? Thinking I was too stupid to know you didn’t expect more out of me than dumb muscle eager to get to fighting, someone that wouldn’t question anything.”

The lights flared such a bright green that it went white and then popped with the sound of fizzling soda and shattered glass. Actor subconsciously, human instinct still ingrained after so long of being inhuman, flinched, shut his eyes and covered his head. The sound of shrieking static made him cover his ears as they ached and he was positive he felt his eardrums burst, his head ached as the sound pierced through his skull.

The shrieking came again, not just a wall of sound but laughter. Actor had never been one that dealt well with being made a joke, pride bristled in indignation as his eyes snapped open and he started to growl, to snap back at the glitch for being so ungrateful for his help. His mask dropped as his true form slipped through the handsome image he portrayed. Like the true face of Dorian Grey, sickened, rotten and ugly.

Only he saw that Anti had dropped his mask as well…

Instead of a human with glowing green eyes, sharp claws and fangs to betray the inhuman underneath…what stood in front of Actor was something that could only be called eldritch. Lightning and static in a silhouette that was humanoid but not, it glitched and twisted on itself, crackling at the seams. He blinked and it shifted each time as if it couldn’t decide on how to ‘appear’. Too long, too many ‘limbs’ too long claws that took the place of fingers, jaws filled with rows and rows of razor blade fangs, it looked too big for the space it was in, the walls creaked and groaned with the strain to hold it in.

His head ached like the worst migraine he’d ever had, his ears rang and he felt blood dripping from his nose, the world felt like it tilted and he felt like he was going to throw up. There was a rumbling of thunder and then he was aware of his body falling and convulsing as his brain lit up with only agony as a reason. Past the pain and the searing white noise in his ears that felt like it was trying to break his mind apart, he grit his teeth at the shrieking, piercing laugh that had him swallow down bile.

“Already on the ground writhing like a snake without its head~ You thought you were such a tough shot because you constantly annoyed Dark, ohhh boyo you got no idea of what forces you’re playing with now~”

The sensation of barbed wire cutting and tearing, ripping into his skin as the glitch’s strings wrapped around his limbs and yanked him up to his feet. Up further still to Anti’s ‘face’…too many eyes, shades of green, black, blue and some brown, they looked like fractured images through cracks in a mirror. The glitch’s body waved and rose as it spoke, like watching a sound wave on a computer screen.

As much as Actor tried to hold it in, as he finally realized how in over his head he was, that making a deal with the glitch had been a horrible mistake, when he felt the lightning forced through his body again, he screamed. Anti’s cackling laughter of delight rang in his ears and covered the sound as it echoed in on itself.

“It’s been a while since I had a chance to play with something that can survive it~ Oh yes, I’m aware you can’t stay dead~ You’re gonna wish you were back in that manor when I get bored of you~”

[freakinglegs]

This piece comes with a fic (here’s the link) called “You Beat the SHIT Out of Darkiplier” that I wrote because I felt, y’know we’ve seen every other iteration of Dark kidnapping you! Why not have a fun, short, sweet, and to the point fic where you defend yourself against the man. <3

[leighsartworks216]

Your Captain

Engineer Mark x gn!reader

Requested by Anon:

"Sweet! Can i request a angst and fluff fic with engineer mark? Where captain overworks themselves, not taking care of themselves at all, marks sees it but doesn't want to bother them too much about it

And eventually they get really sick and collapse infront of mark

With angst prompts #12 and #17 thank youuuu"

12. "You could have died."

17. "No, no, no, you can't close your eyes right now!"

Tbh this fic started as a completely different concept but I think it fit really well with this request so yah

Warnings: loss of identity, mentions of the warp core events, mentions of death, overworking, exhaustion, hurt/comfort, angst

Word Count: 3906

Masterlist

Tag List Form

The realization is slow. Not in the way a predator creeps on an unsuspecting victim. Nor in the way an illness would, slowly taking over your body and mind until you can no longer ignore your decreasing abilities. No. It’s not even noticeable at first. Little hints here and there, indicative of something bigger.

And then it dawned on you. Suddenly. Like a spark igniting a rampant fire.

It happened when you looked up. The sky was different here. Strange. Nothing like Earth’s. There were no constellations - at least not yet. Two moons circled and twirled around the planet. Your new home.

You had neglected to look up since you landed. You couldn’t blame anyone. There was simply too much to do - buildings in need of building, resources to discover and study, maps to draw up of the surrounding area. Not only that, you joined your leads wherever you could.

You assisted Celci as she and her team revived colonists. You welcomed each new citizen with a smile and Welcome to our new planet! All 100,000 of them. Celci told you to take a break, get a nap, eat something. You would argue that everyone deserved to be welcomed, and it helped you get a grasp on just how many carpenters, engineers, scientists, medics, gun hands and others there actually were. She gave you a worried and disapproving side eye, but she couldn’t do anything to stop you.

Gunther worked to set up a perimeter where the first buildings could be set up. You helped to plan out which buildings went where, and exactly where your borders should be laid. And when he started setting up armed droids to keep an eye out for raging wildlife that could threaten your new beginnings? You were all too happy to put yourself to work, hauling the heavy automechanicals to each designated spot. If he made a comment about exerting yourself, you ignored it and kept on working.

Burt, with the lack of necessity for warp-core engineering (the thought made you flinch), helped out in home-building. He acted as foreman, making sure each sheet of metal had its place. As the framework finished, he and his team went in to affix lights and other electronic necessities. A few engineers even took plumbing jobs. (There was, unfortunately, a lack of those sent over from Earth.) Quiet as he was, the only time he pointed out your willingness to dive head first and help build foundations, framework and walls, was in a poetic waxing after a rather large building neared completion. You said it was a beautiful poem, but you didn’t quite understand its meaning. (You did.)

And Mark. Oh, god, Mark. With each new job you threw yourself into, he was always right there, running around like a headless chicken trying to help. If you were building a wall, he was right behind you (sometimes even right next to you, holding the metal in place as you bolted it in), keeping you up to date with the progress of the colony, messages from Earth, and other such things. He worried over you the most out of anyone else.

You couldn’t blame him, honestly. After the… adventure you both went on, you wouldn’t give yourself the time of day to even close your eyes. Once dark settled in, you threw yourself into paperwork and managerial nonsense. You couldn’t stop.

It had been one of these nights when you realized. You just finished talking to Celci, discussing the discoveries being made. The scientists just started working with the security crew to go out on excursions to study the flora and fauna. They just brought back a strange plant that they believed could be medicinal. It was exciting, truly.

But Celci had been short with the discussion. She had her arms crossed the whole time, shutting down branching topics with quick retorts. You need rest, she’d scolded. She shoved a protein bar in your hand and sent you to your tent, with orders not to do any work tomorrow. When you tried to protest, she enacted a rule that stated she - as lead officer for medical - could confine you to your quarters if you were not at your peak health, physical or otherwise. You couldn’t argue with her, and so trudged like a pouting child toward the temporary camp of tents everyone was staying in.

That’s when you looked up. You stopped, staring at the unfamiliar stars, the strange moons that lacked craters. The Invincible could just be seen, hovering in the atmosphere. You were waiting for orders from Earth to know what to do with her. You refused to dismantle the grand spaceship. Most likely, it would continue to remain high above the planet, run by a skeleton crew. Forever up there. Alone.

That is when the realization overcame you.

It was slow. And then it all came crashing down over top of you like a tsunami. A growing sense of guilt filled your chest. Was that it? Guilt. No, maybe it was… loss. Yes. A powerful sense of grief within you, bubbling to the surface.

Maybe it had always been there. You couldn’t rightly tell. But it was powerful. It grew, bubbling like a thick paste within you until it reached your tear ducts and buckled your knees. The ground was warm beneath you, and the sky full of strange new stars blurred into a swirl of watercolors. Maybe this was how Van Gogh saw the world. Through tears.

“Captain?”

Your lip trembled. You couldn’t look at him.

A warm body knelt next to you on the ground. His dark eyes burned into your skin, searching desperately for answers. Why were you crying? Why were you sitting out in the middle of the camp, staring at the sky? When he glanced up, following your gaze, he caught sight of the Invincible. He mentally damned the ship.

Was it because of the ship that you were crying? Far too often to be healthy, he, too, stared up at the ship. He remembered the warp core. The mistakes he made, and the ones he caused.

He had no idea what you saw up there. You never spoke about it. Now he wished he had. He wished he asked. He wished he knew what worlds, what alternate realities, what different timelines you’d witnessed. Maybe then he could understand what was wrong.

“Cap…?”

Your eyes were red now. Your face crinkled with grief and sorrow, fighting back the onslaught of tears. You gasped in a shaky breath. Out came a whisper. He thought, perhaps, you would tell him about the things you’d seen. You witnessed thousands of deaths; he had, too. But that was not what came out of your mouth.

“I don’t remember my name.”

Mark was stunned. Shock and confusion overtook his body. Your name? Well, of course, your name was… It’s…

Confused and frustrated, he remembered the IDs on file for every single crew member. He sifted through so many every day, trying to keep track of who was who. It took a few taps on his wrist pad to pull up your ID. He skimmed it for himself before holding out his arm to show you.

The image was fairly recent, only from a few months ago. But you looked… brighter. Hopeful. Determined. Your hair was a little shorter then, too. The bags under your eyes from rigorous study weren’t as prominent as they were now. You looked like a hollow shell of who you once were.

And, yes, that was your name. Or… was it? Was it really your name after everything that had happened?

No. That was their name.

You shook your head and furiously wiped at the tears on your cheeks. Every crass name, criminal title, and disparaging nickname flooded your mind. No. They didn’t have those titles. They didn’t deserve the hatred and vitriol that followed you through that wormhole. They were not the Captain. And you were not them.

“That’s not my name anymore,” you croaked. You shook your head again. You looked like a child having a breakdown in kindergarten over a broken toy. “That’s- That’s not me anymore.”

Mark couldn’t say he really understood why. The image of you, all crooked grins and academy-fresh confidence, was you. He remembered you gushing to him over flying your first airplane, and going through the rigorous training of outer-space flying. He remembered because it was you who gave him the idea for all those stupid windows. When you gushed over being so close to the night sky you felt you could reach out and pluck Polaris right out of the inky black.

But when he looked from the picture to you? He was reminded of the hardships. How you jumped from universe to universe, wracking up casualties, just to save him. And he started to get it. You went through too much to be even near the same plane of existence as your young, naive self.

“Who am I, Mark?”

When you fell to press your face unceremoniously into his shoulder, he wasted no time wrapping you up in his arms. The ID flickered away as the screen turned off. He tried to hold on tight enough to physically stop you from shaking with your sobs, but it was impossible.

“You’re our Captain.”

Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say. But they were the only words he could find.

Anybody who passed by pretended they didn’t see anything. He hoped, anyway. He couldn’t meet their eyes. All he could do was hold on, as you had done for him once. Your sobs turned into stifled cries, and then only whimpers. He wasn’t concerned at first. In fact, he was a little relieved you were beginning to calm down. Until you became completely limp in his hold.

Even then, he still paused a second, before pulling you back until he could see your face. Had your skin always been so dull?

He shook you slightly. Maybe you were just sleeping, right? Your eyelids didn’t even flutter. Panic shot through his heart.

He shook you again, harder this time. No response.

“Captain?” Another shake, perhaps a little more vigorously than he intended. Your body was a rag doll, flopped in his lap. “No, no, no, you can’t close your eyes right now!”

His mind, scared and jumping to all the worst conclusions, raced to figure out what to do. He laid you on the ground and pressed an ear against your chest.

…

……

Okay. There’s a heartbeat. A little weaker than he thought was normal, but it was there. And your chest was moving, albeit slowly, with each breath. He pulled away. His hands, calloused with years of fiddling with wires and heavy machinery, floundered in the air. He didn’t know what to do.

Desperate cries for help, for Cici, for anyone were ripped from his lungs. He was gasping for air by the time half the camp rushed out to see what the commotion was. He couldn’t catch his breath until you were safe again.

He just needed you to be safe.

-

Word spread about the Captain’s health quickly. Mark couldn’t say he was surprised. Actually, he was sort of embarrassed.

That night - almost a week ago now - Celci had rushed to his side. She was the rational and cool-headed one. She commanded medics to grab a stretcher, to ready an IV, prepare a bed and equipment. All the while he screeched like a banshee, whaling for his old friend.

Uncharacteristically, though, she didn’t say a word about it. Nobody did. (Or, at least, not when he was within earshot.) She grabbed him a chair, some water and snacks, even a blanket. And as he sat by the Captain’s side, a permanent frown etched within his features, she kept him up to date on your condition and on the colony.

He knew his fears were wholly rational. After jumping through wormholes and witnessing first hand what consequences it brought, it was only natural for him to fret over the permanence of life now.

How stupid he’d been. Really. How many times did he grab your hand and jump back into the wormhole? More than he could count on one hand. The way he would be torn apart by a black hole or exploded by a supernova, and still step out of that pod with a giddy little grin, asking, almost begging, the Captain to jump in again. And again. And again.

Vaguely he remembered an airlock.

Neither of you were immortal now. Honestly, he hated immortality. It seems to amazing in theory…

He drags a hand down his face with a sigh. His shoulders are hunched. He leans his elbows against the edge of your bed.

He’s tired. Not like before. This wasn’t an exhaustion fueled by some silly false heroics or nonstop building of a catalyst to all your issues. No. He was exhausted with worry, and fear, and- God, emotions he didn’t even have words for. It all sat heavy in his soul.

Guilt, he decided to call it. But different. Guilt if it was slightly to the left.

Celci told him you just passed out from exhaustion and overworking yourself. Maybe he felt guilty for not picking up on it sooner, or for stopping you before it got so bad. It’s not as if the bags under your eyes were invisible, or that the way you carelessly rushed in to help every single person in need was subtle. He should have noticed.

Maybe then you would remember your name. Or, he thought back to your ID, believe you’re still you.

He wished his mind could shut up, for once.

A distraction. That’s what he needed, yeah.

He dragged his eyes from your face to your monitor. He was never very good with medical stuff. The numbers were odd. Was that blood pressure normal? Too high? Too low? Hell if he knew. Was your heart beating fast enough?

He contemplated for a brief moment the components that went into a monitor like that. The wires, connectors, screws, bolts, etc. And then he remembered this machine was making sure you were still alive. The idea of dismantling it was no longer appealing.

He turned to the IV next. A slow, continuous drip of fluids, hooked up to your arm. Needles always gave him a bad feeling. He felt nauseous looking at it.

Strange flowers caught his attention next. There were no roses or tulips or irises out here. Just… Well, they didn’t have names yet. The exobiologists were working on formulating latin names, genuses, and everything else that came with cataloging different flora. They were still beautiful, he couldn’t deny it. Bright orange petals with neon blue stamens that glowed at night. Razor-leaved stems that started as purple by the bloom and morphed into an odd black hue. They looked poisonous, actually. He was sure they wouldn’t be allowed in here if that was the case.

Paper was becoming a luxury at this point. Not that it mattered much, with everything accessible at the press of a button on their wrists. Still, they thought it would be best to ration out the remaining scraps throughout the colony. And everyone, seemingly unanimously, decided to use the rare material to write get well soon cards.

The little folds of parchment filled every possible surface. With 100,003 people writing get well and thank you, at some point the excess of good will notes had to be tucked away in a bin to be read later. He caught a nurse, once, rotating out the cards.

His frown softened when he thought of the very human way in which they cared about you. How human to utilize a precious resource just to say Thank you, wake up soon. How human to see something beautiful in nature, and to display it tenderly next to you. We found something beautiful, it made us think of you. How very human for those who stopped by, who saw him ever at your side like a steadfast protector, rested a hand on his shoulder or patted him on the back. You are not alone in your pain.

He wished, desperately, that you could be awake to witness the love humanity so freely handed out. Maybe then you could rediscover who you were.

“You look like shit.”

Mark startled awake. When did he fall asleep? Ah, dammit, it was dark outside. He must have been out for hours. He scrubbed at the exhaustion crusting his eyelids shut.

Wait…

His body froze. He was too scared to breathe. His heart was racing.

He couldn’t have heard that. He couldn’t have.

Heart in his throat, he slowly removed his hand from his eye and dragged his eye along your frame, still tucked safely under the blanket. Sure enough, when he finally reached your face, there was a smug grin waiting for him.

And with a jolt, his body came back to life.

You watched, half-amused as Mark threw himself from his chair to press a Call Nurse button on the opposite side of your bed. His eyes were wide and frantic. His hair was a mess. Bags under his eyes carried the weight of the world, tears of relief slipping down his cheeks before he could even think to stop them.

“You’re- You’re awake!” he croaked. His hands instinctively grabbed onto your shoulders. They were trembling.

You tried to reach up to hold onto his shoulder, maybe even his face to feel his concerning amount of stubble, but it felt so heavy. You held onto his forearm instead. “How long-?”

Celci came storming in, looking about as frantic as Mark, but better put together. Once she saw you were conscious, her expression morphed to be somewhere between joy and fury. Uh oh.

“Captain!” The only freedom from her intense stare came when she checked your vitals. Mark backed away so she had plenty of room to do so, but he kept a hand on one of your shoulders. He couldn’t pull himself away just yet. “I’m not going to say ‘I told you so’, but I told you this was going to happen if you kept pushing yourself so hard!”

“What exactly happened?”

The cryonics lead faltered. Mark gave her a pleading look. She realized, for the first time since stepping in here, that he had been- no, was crying. She had never seen him cry before.

Celci sighed and tapped a few things into her wrist pad. “I’m assigning you to bedrest and low-effort work until you decide to put your needs before those of the colony.” She leveled you with a concerned stare. “The colony needs you, Captain. You can’t be everywhere at once, helping with every last fiber of your being, no matter how much you want to. Let the rest of us carry the responsibilities we were sent here to carry.”

Mark turned away to wipe away his tears before she could glare at him next and give him a lecture, too. She huffed, nodded to you with a Captain, and left.

The air was thick. Things unsaid hung around in the air like dust caught in a sunbeam - everywhere you look and hard to ignore.

Mark didn’t look at you as he tried to gather himself together. The motes would continue lingering until he was ready to answer your questions.

Deciding to give him some space (as much as you could while bedridden), you looked to the side. The hordes of cards was utterly overwhelming. Each one was different from the next. Some had Captain written on the front in neat cursive, heavy-handed scrawls, or chicken scratch. Some people did their ‘C’s differently, or slurred their writing together in their plain-text handwriting. Other cards simple said Get well soon! or Feel better! You could see small paragraphs of writing inside the folds.

A rush of warmth flooded your chest. All of the command leads, all of the colonists - everyone thought about you. Maybe the idea of being thought of was just so foreign, but you didn’t think in any earnest capacity that this many people would care. The Leads, sure, you spent so much time with them up on the ship (more than they realized), but the most contact the vast majority of the colonists had with you was the simple welcome you gave them as they were thawed. And yet. Despite it all. Everyone had left a card.

Everyone cared about you.

The warm feeling in your chest turned sour as you remembered your conversation with Mark last night. (Was it last night?) The way the stars glimmered back without a care for you. The way you squeezed that protein bar so tight it became mush in its package. The way Mark held you.

I don’t remember my name.

Who am I, Mark?

You squeezed his arm, as much as you could in your weakened state.

You’re our Captain.

Reddened eyes met yours. His eyes were so dark, but they held a thousand thoughts, emotions, and ideas behind them. You remembered looking into those eyes, as you held onto him, refused to let him go even as he called you hateful names and ripped the crystal from your palm.

“You’ve been asleep for a week.” He sniffed. His hand trembled as he gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Cici said… You were overworking yourself, pushing yourself past your limit just to be there for everybody, and you weren’t taking care of yourself like you should have been and she said-” He swallowed thickly, fighting to speak through the lump in his throat. “You could have died.”

Oh. It had been that bad? You couldn’t recall feeling weak. Though, maybe it was from the endless running you did during the warp core fiasco. How long had you been awake during that endless nightmare? Your body had recovered once the cycle was broken, but your mind…

“I’m sorry.” It was all you could say. His shoulders fell. “I didn’t…” Your voice was quiet, almost too soft to be a whisper. As if you were afraid to say what was on your mind. “When we were in the wormhole, I was so tired. We both were. But it’s like, I don’t even know what it’s like to feel tired anymore, because nothing compares to what happened.”

You looked up at him, like a child seeking approval. In your eyes, he saw universes colliding, supernovas, and someone who never gave up hope. For the briefest hint of a second, he saw that same determined graduate from the ID.

“Does that make sense?”

He nodded without thinking. His hand left your shoulder, following the length of your arm to hold your hand. You didn’t have gloves on. It was… odd. He ignored the calloused scar that brushed against his palm. “I feel the same. I remember building the… it. I didn’t sleep at all, then. And now that I can, it feels… wrong. I’m not tired, but I am. I can’t explain it better than that.”

“I think we both need a nap.”

He huffed. It was nice to see him smile again. “On your orders, Captain.” His grin flickered, eyes darkened. “If you’d like, you can choose a different name. It wouldn’t be too hard to change your ID.”

“No,” you said. You smiled. “You were right, all along.”

“About what?”

“I’m your Captain.”

---

Tag List:

@writeawaythepain

@hyperfixat

@cryptidjester

@your-voice-is-mellifluous

[jokingmisfit]

Bro, I told my therapist that I write a lot of stories. I made a mistake and told them how sometimes my writing reflects my mental state... Now they want me to bring some into to share! HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO GROW THE BALLS TO BRING IN X READER FAN FICTION TO MY THERAPIST!? WHAT HAVE I DONE!? WHAT DO I DO!?

[intolerable-sushi]

Loving madness

Wilford x reader

Hello folks!!! I am currently sick with the flu, so I have had time to go through my drafts and work on things!!! This is an wilford x gn reader story that I may or may not continue depending on how I feel. Let me know if yall like it, enjoy!!!

Your friends had dragged you to a new club on your birthday to celebrate despite you begging for a small party. Instead of a couple of drinks with your friends inside your perfectly temperate house, you were now sweating like a pig in the corner of the club. Your friends were having a good time at least, with each finding a random guy to grind on. You could barely hold the panic that threatened to spill out of your throat as the club became more crowded. You hated this. You needed to get some air. You could barely make your way through the crowd as you searched for some sort of sanctuary. As your panic began to overflow and tears started to cloud your eyes, you bumped into a man as he turned around, spilling your drink all over him. You began to apologize profusely afraid that he would be angry with you, as he had every right to be. 

____________________________________________

Loving Wilford had been a mistake. A mistake that you could have easily avoided if you hadn’t been so short-sighted and naive. It had all been going so well when you had first met. 

“Now, now, it's alright darling. A little spill never hurt anyone. These things happen all the time! Now, are you alright?” The man was tall , wearing a yellow shirt and khakis. His smile was warm under his mustache and his eyes had this spark in them. You froze, he was beautiful. “Miss I understand that I am quite a catch if I do say so myself, but I do believe that you need to breathe.” You need to breathe? Oh shit you had stopped breathing. You took in a quick gasp before apologizing again. His eyes appeared to soften as he looked at you. 

“You look like you are having a rough night. Why don’t we get you outside for some air?” He placed his hand on the small of your back as he guided you towards the door. Once the two of you were outside he sat you down on a chair that you were sure wasn’t there when you had walked out. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s gotten someone as stunning as you all frazzled.” You explained that today was your birthday, and that your friends had dragged you to this new club despite you wanting a small get together. Everyone else was having fun, but the atmosphere was overwhelming to you. You didn’t want to ruin everyone’s fun so you just stayed quiet. The tears that had been collecting in your eyes began to fall. You just wanted to go home now.  

The man had listened silently to your explanation before letting out a huff. “ Those don’t sound like very good friends. Today is YOUR birthday not theirs. You should be doing what you want to do today!” You stated you would rather not cause any problems. The man huffed again, “Wanting to be celebrated in a way you enjoy is not causing problems.” The man appeared to be almost steaming as he began to pace in front of you muttering to himself. 

You stood up from your chair and said you would rather just head back to your apartment now. The man stopped his pacing and turned to you, “Alright, but may I walk you home to ensure your safety.” You thought about it for a second. This definitely was not the safest part of town, so walking by yourself was risky but at the same time, you didn’t know this man. You couldn’t help but eye him suspiciously. Was he really safe or did he have another motive?

The man seemed to realize what you were thinking and he cleared his throat. “ My apologies, where are my manners? My name is Willia- I mean, Wilford Warfstache at your service.” He said while taking a deep bow with his hand to his chest. You couldn’t help but to giggle at the name. Warfstache, what an interesting name. You decided that he seemed kind enough and told him he could walk you home. 

The two of you talked the entire way there. Wilford was kind, passionate, and funny. He had so many stories to tell and you felt like you could listen to him for hours. He made you smile and you couldn’t help the feelings of butterflies forming in your stomach. Before you parted ways that night you gifted Wilford with your number and a kiss on the check. 

The two of you began to see each other regularly and talked almost nonstop. Being with Wilford felt like a dream. He was a gentleman in all things, but he helped push you out of your comfort zone. The two of you had gone on skating dates, picnic dates, and you even went to a dance club at some point. Wilford had kept you close to make sure you were safe and comfortable. 

You were so happy and naive that you had ignored the problems and red flags. Wilford rarely talked about his past, with the only people he ever brought up being his childhood friends Mark and Damien. Sometimes he would mention a past love, but he didn’t seem to remember her name. Which brought up another concern; his memory. He struggled with simple things like the date, or even where he was. Which explained why he didn’t talk about his past. You suggested he go see a doctor multiple times, but he would refuse with a kind smile every time. 

 Other issues were harder to ignore, like when he started to just appear in places. In the apartment he could be in the bedroom one minute, and then in the kitchen the next. You explained it away with you just not paying attention, but that excuse didn’t work when he did it outside the house. Walking away to go to the bathroom only to appear in front of you when you turn back around. You should have started asking questions then. You should have payed attention as the light slowly left his eyes, when his face began to have random twitches, or when his mustache started to turn fucking pink. You ignored it all, explaining it all away in your head like a naive fool. Maybe you could have saved him. It’s too late to know now. 

Eventually his descent went from a trickle of odd occurrence to a waterfall of concerns. You would come home to him sitting at the table with a drink in hand staring at the wall muttering to himself. You could only catch the words “I did” from him. He would snap out of it when you would call him, and go back to being regular old Wilford, but over time even that stopped working. He would avoid the topic every time you brought it up, saying, “I’m fine love, I promise.” As this went on you could no longer ignore the fact that he started to randomly appear in your house when you knew he wasn’t there. You had screamed at him the first time he walked into the kitchen from your room. The two of you started to argue. He refused to talk to you about anything, and you were begging him to get help. You could see him slipping further and further from you, but he was just being so stubborn. 

Everything came to a head when you had been watching the news one night. There had been a massacre, two men and three women had been shot and killed. “The killer is still at large.” The news reporter stated, “ It is suggested that everyone stay in their homes until further notice. Talks of city wide curfew are currently in the works” 

Your front door suddenly slammed open! You turned to see Wilford staggering inside before slamming the door closed behind him.“Darling are you home?” He called, “You would not believe the night I’ve had!” You felt relief wash over you seeing your love, but that feeling stopped when something shun in his hand. A gun. Your blood froze for a second as you stared at the weapon. You were no longer listening to Wilford as questions flooded your head. Did he kill those people? Wilford would never hurt anyone!! He’s been so kind!! But why is he holding it right now? Why is it not holstered? Is that smoke?

“Darling?” Wilford had noticed you staring at his gun. He looked behind you to see the news broadcast. “Oh that? That was just a little accident, my love, no need to worry! It’ll work itself out!” An accident? It had been an accident? So why did he run? You looked into his eyes and your body couldn’t help but stiffen. There was no regret or sadness for the lives he had taken. The madness that you had been ignoring had taken over his eyes. Even the love he had for you was hard to find. You couldn’t help but be afraid for a moment. 

His smile began to falter as he stared at you. “My love? What’s wrong? You know I would never hurt you right? It was just an accident I swear.” He slowly began to approach you with his hands up, but the gun was still in hand. You scrambled off the couch to get away from him. His face fell at that moment. He backed towards the kitchen before slumping onto the table, “I’ve lost it haven’t I,” He whispered almost to himself, “ I thought I had more time, but it’s really slipped away, hasn’t it.” He finally looked back up at you, and for a moment you saw the Wilford you had met that night. 

You begged him to let you help him. The two of you could fix this! You can’t lose him! You were sobbing now. You began to  slowly make your way around the couch towards him.

“STAY”

You froze as he snapped at you. He looked back down at the floor. “I’m too far gone love. I’m gonna forget everything eventually. Even you…” He began to grip the edge of the table, “ You don’t deserve this. You are so sweet, and caring. I wish I could give you the world,” the table began to crack under his grip, “ I don’t deserve you. I can’t keep you safe. Not when I’m the thing putting you in danger.” 

Wilford rose up from the table and looked at you with a sad smile. “ I can’t be with you love. It was selfish of me to think otherwise. I can’t destroy your life like I destroyed theirs. I have to go, but if you ever need me just call for me, and I’ll come. Even if I don’t remember you, I promise I’ll protect you.” You didn’t understand, you begged him to explain. He only shook his head. “Goodbye my love,” With that he disappeared in front of your eyes. 

You haven’t seen Wilford since, and you’ve been a wreck. You loved that man. You shouldn’t but you did anyway.  You just couldn’t understand any of this. What was he? Why did he kill those people? You’ve been crying yourself to sleep trying to think of the answers, but none ever came.

One night things took another turn. 

You were crying in your room as you had done for many nights when suddenly, “Poor, sweet thing. All teary eyed over a lost love. Confused with no answers,” A voice called out to you from the darkness of your room. You reached to turn on the lamp on your night stand, but the light barely even reached the edge of your bed. What’s happening? “ Relax little one, I am here to help you. I have some information that could be of use to you. I don’t ask for much in return. Just a simple favor,” From the shadows stepped a man in a suit. He stood tall and proud, with gray skin like a thunder cloud. His form seemed to break and strain, with the man appearing to scream in pain for one second then be back to his standing posture the next. “Why don’t we talk about this over ice cream?”

[otterlyinluv]

A touch of darkness (pt.1)

Link to part 2

Summary: Dark convinced himself he must stay as far away from you as possible for your sake. That all changes when you start experiencing feelings you hadn't before.

Pairing: Darkiplier x DA!Reader

Tags: sfw, pining, proximity, general confusion caused by feelings

A/N: This is the first time I posted my writing somewhere. Hope you like it! (there will be more romance in the next part)

Word count: 1.2k

--

Damien, who always made sure you knew he was with you by touching you. Holding the small of your back when guiding you places. Putting a hand on your shoulder when you were getting mad at someone. Leaning into your touch when you held him.

But when you showed up at the new ego manor as a reincarnation from the mirror, Dark felt conflicted. You looked like the person he used to hold so frequently it became second nature. Even your soul was the same. But you weren't who you used to be. You didn't remember. At first, he kept a distance from you. Not an obscenely big one just enough to respect your private space.

And after a suspiciously short amount of time, he felt as if he was missing something. He felt an itch of sorts.

He found his eyes wandering to your hands. He wondered what it would be like to hold them. How they would feel compared to his. After thoughts such as these, he would shake his head in hopes that it would keep any similar ones at bay. After all, you were not his anymore.

--

You were extremely confused. Any time you stood next to Dark to point out something on his computer, he always moved away even if it was just by an inch. Every time you tapped his shoulder to get his attention, he would stare at your hand for a split second. Even if you accidentally bumped into him, he would visibly freeze. It was official. Dark most probably hated you. Okay, maybe hate was a strong word, but he didn't want to be close to you, that's for sure.

You didn't even know why you minded it. You got plenty of hugs from Wilford and the occasional hand around your shoulder from Illinois, so it's not like you lacked physical contact.

While you were sure he at least tolerated you, he obviously didn't want to spend more time with you than necessary. But, seeing as you two worked together rather often, you were in a rather bad situation. You didn't want to make him uncomfortable. So, you tried not to invade his personal space as much as you could.

--

A knock on your already open door disturbed you from your task of tracking down where Mark could possibly be. Not looking up from the screen, you uttered a quiet "Come in". The familiar sound of dress shoes made you tear your eyes away from the computer. Dark stopped just in front of your desk.

"Oh. Hi, Dark."

He didn't usually come into your little corner office. If you could call it an office. You were the one to look for him when you needed something or to share any new discoveries.

"I received complaints about the computers... I worked out the issues with the others already."

"Oh, okay..." You let him join you on the other side of the desk. But before you could leave him your chair, he reached for the computer mouse and put his left hand on the other side. Which meant you were trapped between his arms. Great.

To ease the increasingly awkward atmosphere, you said: "I thought Google fixed problems with computers."

He replied after a couple of seconds. "It's more of an organizational issue. His program doesn't extend to the placement of the files."

You nodded your head. You could feel his shoulder on the back of your head. Whether it was his shoulder or not was only a guess. You've never been this close before. Given his distaste for such closeness, he must have been suffering.

Instead of focusing on your proximity, you opted to look at the monitor. Search by name. Copy. Paste to another folder. Search through already existing folders. Copy. Paste.

You couldn't understand why he insisted on being the one to rearrange the misplaced files when you were perfectly capable of doing so yourself. Granted, he was much faster and more efficient than you would ever be. The room was filled with clicks and your rapid heartbeat. He still hasn't moved from his original position. In fact, it seemed as if he was even closer than in the beginning.

He let out a deep sigh, which you felt on the top of your head. You assumed it was because he couldn't find the file he was looking for. Or you would, have you not been so terribly plagued by thoughts racing in your head.

"There are only a few files left." There was a deep rumble in his voice that you wouldn't have heard if he wasn't so close to you. You weren't used to this. At all. He always made it seem like he wanted to be as physically far away from you as possible, but with the way he stood right now...

You didn't mind it as much as you should have. The lack of distance felt suspiciously comforting even though it was something you weren't used to. It was quite peculiar.

"That should be all of them."

His hand started withdrawing from the mouse, so you turned around to thank him when you froze. His face was mere inches apart from your own. You didn't expect him to be so close. Because of the proximity, you noticed his eyes weren't a deep shade of brown like many of the other inhabitants' of the mansion. They were black like a starless night sky. The color was rather pleasing. For a split second, you could've sworn you saw his eyes flick to your lips. But before you could confirm whether it was actually true, his gaze was back in your eyes. He drew in a sharp breath.

"I... I should go." He shook his head, but you caught him by the hand before he could move any further.

"Wait. This seems familiar." His body went rigid at your words.

"Familiar in what way?"

"I don't know just you, me... us?"

His eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"Are you doing this? Have you discovered a new power of influencing minds and are testing it out on me?" Your lips spread in a cheeky smile.

"That is ridiculous." He said sharply. "Even if I had that sort of ability, I would never use it on you."

His tone of voice was harsh, but his eyes... Slightly wide, eyebrows furrowed as if he was offended by your accusation, but his eyes held feelings. Fear. Though you were unsure what exactly he was afraid of.

He pulled his hand from yours with surprising gentleness.

He opened his mouth as if to say something but shook his head. "I believe my work here is done."

Fixing his suit jacket lapels, he started making his way to the door.

You stood up abruptly.

"Wait!"

He stopped and turned towards you slowly.

You yourself were confused about your sudden urgency for him to stay. You half expected him to simply shake his head, chastise you for wasting his time, and go wherever he needed to go. But he didn't. He stood there. Waiting.

"I... I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."

You swore something akin to disappointment appeared in his eyes before his look became neutral once again. He nodded his head and left the room.

You sank back in your chair. Why did you just do that? There was a foreign pang in your heart after you heard the door close. With each of his steps turning quieter and quieter, you felt like you were... missing something. You could not figure out what.

But maybe someone else could help.

[colby-jac-cheese]

Cringe is real but shame is dead! I made cover art for my fanfic series of connected one shots!

Take!

Fun details!

Whyin (the district attorney aka Y/N) has no shadow! This is on purpose to show their simi-separate from the others! Their pose is also simi-lifted to show they are more puppet like than the others! The eyes behind them have 3 specific lines of sight! First is actor himself, then is themself and CM, and then is the viewer!

CM (copy mark) is front stage with them as Co-Star on all adventures! You can tell he plays many roles because of his many branching shadows! (Aka: Yancy, Illinois, Engineer, Barrel and Date Mark) his expression is a more welcoming mirror of the actors, because he is everything the actor pretends to be! he's beckoning the viewer to join him! As always!

Actor! His skin is more of a yellowish hue because he took over Damian's dead body! There's also the ball of red string to mimic the branching looping Timeline of the series! It's done in a cat's cradle to show he's weaving it by hand! The strings controlling the others all come from him!

Dark is attempting to choke actor out, but you can only see his hands because he always works from the shadows! He's also reaching through the silhouette of the mirror frame!

[cozyenigma]

Ingrained

Word Count- 1201

Request?- Yes!

(sorry this took me so long! I hope the tarot parts aren't too basic and it's what you envisioned! And of you'd still like the anon handle you can absolutely take that one!)

Tag List- @cookielover0001010 , @swag-droid , @watchoutforfrostbite

Warnings- None

Dark didn't need to eat or drink. Food didn't nourish the carcass he hauled around and drink did nothing to quench his thirst. When he found himself presented with these things anyways, Dark always took a small amount of pleasure in others discomfort when they noticed he never touched anything.

Still, in the privacy of his own office, away from annoyances and prying eyes, he let himself imbibe. A steaming hot cup of sencha sat on his desk. The fine china cup, delicate and thin, gleamed atop its saucer. Heedless, of the temperature, Dark took a sip.

It tasted like ash.

One of his human components, he wasn't quite sure which, had liked to take tea in this setting once upon a time. Steaming hot tea in a window seat with a good book. As much as Dark was annoyed at the bleed over, the habit helped.

As did the readings. Dark knew which one this habit stemmed from. The cards seemed to flow in his hands. Shuffling and dealing and reading. The deck was worn. Creased and faded at the edges, the cards showed their age. Part of him wondered if this was her set when she was alive. Probably not.

As he was going to set the spread of cards, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Dark's hands paused. Then he gathered the cards back into one stack.

"Back again, are we?"

The air grew noticeably colder, the steam rising from his tea that much more pronounced. They were here alright.

With a sigh, he started shuffling again. "Are you going to skulk about or try and wreck my office again?"

His answer was a lamp tumbling to the floor, glass skittering across the hardwood.

"Right." Dark ignored the blatant hostility and cut the deck. The DA, reduced to the presence they were now, would eventually tire of the destruction. They always did. It was only Dark's own aura that kept them from doing physical harm to his body.

The destruction was a nuisance but only that. While he didn't enjoy replacing and repairing his furnishings every other week, he wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of seeing any reaction. Eventually, after he heard them gouge long tracks into the floor, they stopped.

He hummed and placed the deck on the desk.

"If you're finished?" Dark gestures to the cards and waited.

The room was still and silent once more. He knew they could move and choose the cards. Whether or not they were shocked or just refusing, he could only guess.

"If you won't," he took up the deck himself, giving it one more shuffle. "I'll ask a question for you, I'm sure both of us have been thinking it. Why do you keep coming back?"

The sound of broken glass crunching under foot. They were seemingly grinding the shards into the floor. That got to them.

"Let's keep it basic, shall we?" He kept going, tone too casual for the situation. "Basic three card pull. Past, present, future, hmm?"

They slipped through his hands as easily as water. Three cards, situated in a line right in front of him. Dark pictured them in his head, brooding as they sat opposite. It almost made him smile.

Delicately, he flipped the first over. A woman wrestling with a beast that might have, once, been a lion. The wearing of time and distortion made it seem otherworldly somehow.

"Strength," he laughed. "Makes sense, I suppose. You always were confident in your skills, even when we were young. Clear choices, clear purpose. I imagine you and everyone else thought you were aiming for bigger and better things, hmm?"

The walls themselves seemed to creak ominously around him. If he didn't know better he might suspect they could bring the ceiling down on top of him.

"Yknow," he said, resting his fingers atop the next card, "this is less the cards talking and more supposed to be the people themselves talking. To put things to words, I suppose. Though you can't quite manage that can you?"

The tea cup beside him abruptly cracked in half. Hot tea leaked out in a small flood, nearly taking the cards with it and soaking into his sleeve. Dark paid it no mind.

"The present now then, shall we?"

This next card was so worn down he very nearly couldn't read the text. Though he'd know the upside down design without it well enough.

"Reverse wheel of fortune," he leaned back, shaking errant drops of scalding tea from his hand. "A run of bad luck. Much as you try you can't control the past, you can't control the present either. Oh my poor, poor friend. I can understand that, to a degree."

He scanned the room, looking for a shimmer, a shadow, anything to indicate where they were. If they actually occupied any sort of space in this reality. The empty, cold office didn't provide him with any insight on that.

"Neither of us were in control then," he said eventually, "as for now…"

Dark flexed his hand. What was once their hand. "I suppose I'll be taking that back for the both of us, hmm?"

No response. Nothing was destroyed in a fit of impotent rage but he knew they were still here. That crawling every present feeling of being watched was still there.

"Stop trying to change things," he murmurs, "I don't pretend to know where you're existing now but there's surely better things for you to be doing. Maybe even actually rest."

Again, nothing. Dark huffed and, without further preamble, flipped the last card. This one made him laugh. As much as he could laugh, anyways.

"Justice? Really?"

The card was fairly self explanatory, as far as other cards in the deck went. The woman depicted held a scale and sword, regal and just. At some point the face was nearly erased, a small tear going through where her eyes would have been. The now cooled tea had soaked into the paper, giving the card a sickly brown green tint.

"You're pinning your hopes on karma, is that it?" He tossed the card back onto the desk. "I don't think so. The world isn't that kind. If anything, I'll be bringing you justice. Bringing down the man that caused all of this is karma enough, I think."

The deck next to him abruptly flew apart, cards pinwheeling in the air and just adding to the mess. Heaving a sigh, Dark got to his feet.

"One of us can keep going with this cycle, old friend," he'd admit, the old moniker was a dig he couldn't help but slip in, "and I think you know who."

If they heard him they chose not to show it. The room was more than still, it was empty. That pressure, the presence in the air was gone. Which left Dark among the ruins of his office once again.

"Same time next week, I suppose," he mutters, plucking a card from the desk and giving it a flick. The sencha had truly soaked the thing. Even with the paper starting to warp and discolor, he could still make out the tower clear as day.

[franklyshipping]

No-One Is Above A Smile ~ A Markiplier and Ethan Nestor Ego Fanfic

Hello again! This time we're writing from a fab prompt from @coolm456 featuring not just Unus & Annus, but Darkiplier too! This is a fun one, so without further ado LET'S DO THIS!

TAGGING: @darkipli-ler

The primary living room of the ego manor was usually very sophisticated, full of leather furnishings, fine mahogany, with a colour scheme of dark browns, reds, and glimmers of gold. Today it was still sophisticated, but there was more of a monochrome vibe filling the room courtesy of the trio using it as their “hangout” space. Dark was in his favourite armchair, scotch resting on his knee as he let himself relax. Annus was reclined on one of the sofas with his eyes closed, a peel-off charcoal face mask in place. Meanwhile, Unus was sat cross-legged on the carpet with about six blankets covering him, and Dark Chica was laying in his lap and boofing softly for tummy rubs. It was an unusual scene for sure, but this time of decompression was much needed for the trio, just to have a little break from the chaos for once. It was mostly silent other than steady breathing, but every few minutes Unus would snort or giggle as Dark Chica spontaneously licked his cheek or ear. At the sound of his giggle Annus smiled subtly, and Dark raised an amused eyebrow.

‘Having fun Unus?’

Dark asked, and Unus grinned. Today he’d swayed away from his stoic side to his more giddy self, mainly due to having Dark Chica’s attention.

‘Yohour dog is the behest!’

He replied, and Dark Chica immediately boofed and licked at his neck, which happened to be a particularly ticklish spot. Unus scrunched up with a giggle as Dark chuckled and Annus rolled his eyes. The elder of the existential pair sat up on his sofa, peeling his face mask off effortlessly as he smirked.

‘I swear you somehow get more ticklish every day.’

‘I do not.’

‘Yes you do.’

‘No I do no–AH!’

Annus’ fingers darted out to flutter at the back of Unus’ neck, coaxing out yet another torrent of giggles which in turn excited Dark Chica more so she licked one of Unus’ ears. The younger man’s cheeks reddened as he batted Annus’ hand, attempting to clear his throat as he glared up at him. Dark bit back a chuckle as he observed, shaking his head lightly as Annus mocked.

‘I hope I didn’t embarrass you.’

‘Annus I swear I will go for your armpits if you don’t shut up.’

‘Oh my, is that meant to be a threat?’

Annus taunted. Unus appraised him, all stretched out without a care in the world. In a flash Unus suddenly darted his hand out towards one of his armpits in a feint, and Annus suddenly lowered his arms to protect himself, letting out a nervous noise from his throat. Annus frowned as Unus grinned at him, giggling and returning his hands to Dark Chica’s belly.

‘That’s what I thought.’

‘Oh… shut up.’

Unus snickered as a slight smile appeared on Annus’ face. Dark rolled his eyes at the pair of them, amazed that two existential beings such as them could be so endearingly ridiculous and wholesome. He sipped at his drink and remarked amusedly.

‘I had no idea you two were getting so soft.’

Annus raised an eyebrow at Dark as Unus gaped, the two replying in tandem.

‘Excuse me?’

‘We are not soft!’

Unus’ particular indignance made Dark snort as he set down his drink, and Annus narrowed his eyes as the shadowy man replied.

‘And yet those tickle spots of yours suggest otherwise.’

Until that point Dark Chica had been flopped fully horizontally and on the verge of a nap, but hearing the word “tickle” from her dad’s mouth made her perk up. Suddenly she was paying attention, but no-one else quite noticed.

‘Those don’t indicate anything of the kind, everyone has them.’

Annus retorted, and Dark sneered.

‘Do they?’

‘Don’t you?’

‘Oh please.’

Dark chuckled, and Unus and Annus shared a blatantly surprised look at the implication. Was Dark… not ticklish? Both of them racked their shared memories, certain that they’d heard somewhere that Dark was ticklish like every other ego in the manor. And yet… the conviction with which he spoke, the casualness, was undoubtedly very convincing. Unus couldn’t help but gape at him, the idea of someone not being ticklish just baffling him.

‘You can’t be serious?!’

‘I’m always serious, Unus. I’m sorry to disappoint you.’

Dark replied with a little grin, internally crowing at himself at the prospect of actually getting away with this. This had to be the most bold-faced lie he’d told in a while, and the idea that it was actually working rather tickled him, if you’ll pardon the pun. Meanwhile, Unus and Annus felt bamboozled, which was a rare thing for the pair. Dark had been the one to educate them on tickling in the first place, but now they thought about it they’d never seen him getting tickled himself. Could it really be true?

Amidst all of this… Dark Chica’s attention darted from the shocked pair, to her smug dad. Despite her being a supposedly “dark” puppo, she was in fact a very good girl and very smart girl indeed. She was taking in the interaction with far more intelligence than you might think – in fact, she was always able to sense when her dad was telling a sneaky lie. She also remembered hearing the world “tickle”… and everything made sense in her belly-rub-loving brain. So, she figured she’d get in on the fun.

In an instant she’d popped up on her feet, and bounded to Dark whilst wagging her floofy tail. Dark naturally reached out to give her some chin scratches, which she let herself enjoy for a few moments… but then to everyone’s utter shock she chomped down (harmlessly) on one of his shins and pulled him out of his chair onto the carpet! Dark yelped out as he landed on his back with a thump, making Unus and Annus bite back laughs.

‘Wha– Chica?!’

Dark looked at her in disbelief – he knew she was playful, but this was a lot! Dark Chica boofed at him and put a paw of his chest so he couldn’t sit up, before looking at Unus and Annus. The silence made it clear that everyone was confused, until the duo watched her start nudging at Dark’s and neck with her wet nose as Dark spluttered. That was when they realised. She was trying to tell them something very interesting indeed, and Dark had realised it too. He let out a casual chuckle, clearing his throat a little as he tried and failed to sit up.

‘Hah, alright Chica alright, we can play just–’

‘Hold on there Dark, I think Chica’s trying to show us something.’

Annus interrupted, a thin grin on his face as he and Unus shared a devious look… before pouncing together and pinning Dark down properly. Dark Chica barked with excitement, her tail wagging as Dark grunted and struggled and let out a number of vague threats… until Unus started fluttering his fingers down the sides of his neck.

‘What have we here?’

‘Nothing!’

‘Are you sure? Chica seems to think it’s something.’

‘Unus, Annus, let me go!’

He grunted, but the wobbly smile on his face made Unus and Annus share another grin. Dark Chica boofed again, and Annus chuckled as he scratched fondly behind her ear.

‘Is your master lying to us, hmm? Is he ticklish?’

Dark’s face reddened as Dark Chica boofed, wagged her tail harder, and licked Annus’ cheek for good measure. That was all the confirmation they needed. Dark let out another series of grunts, gritting his teeth and trying not to giggle as Unus’ fingers kept fluttering.

‘Unus!’

‘Yeah?’

‘D-Desihist this!’

‘Desist what?’

Dark went to speak again, but ended up snorting and chuckling as the flutters snuck behind his vulnerable ears. He tossed his head weakly, his fresh giggles taking all the heat out of his growl.

‘I’ll gehet yohohou fohor thihihis!’

Unus grinned and snickered, whilst Annus leaned over Dark with a twinkle in his eyes.

‘Did you just threaten my other half?’

Dark couldn’t ignore the chill he got down his spine, Annus’ voice echoing a little in his ears. Then before he knew it, a laugh had exploded out of him as Annus’ hands delved beneath his shirt, scratching swiftly at his sides. Dark jerked and twitched, but his hands were pinned beneath Annus’ knees, and he had no chance of freeing them now.

‘Yehehes! Yohohou wohon’t gehet away wihith thihihis, eheither of yohou!’

He exclaimed, trying to maintain some semblance of a tough façade. Unus giggled as Annus smirked.

‘Somehow that doesn’t fill me with dread.’

Annus continued his scratches as Unus’ fingertips zeroed in behind Dark’s ears, tracing the shells as Dark tried to toss his head even more – he was refusing to admit to himself that he was screwed, even though it was so adorably obvious.

‘Dahamnit gehehet ohohoff mehe!’

‘Aww, this doesn’t tickle does it–?’

‘SHUHUT IHIT!’

Unus snickered at Dark’s outburst as he and Annus continued their tickling, Unus’ fingertips now teasing right behind Dark’s earlobes – an utterly maddening tickle spot, by the way – whilst Annus’ thumbs were massaging circles into the dips of Dark’s fleshy sides. All Dark could do was belly laugh and thrash about, meanwhile Dark Chica was sat and watching with a happy look on her face – though occasionally she did playfully nudge Dark’s shirt or lick his face.

‘Sounds like Chica loves that laughter of yours Dark, I wonder if we can make it louder?’

Annus mused, and started squeezing Dark’s sides rapidly to make him cackle – it got so intense that Unus had to abandon his ears to hold his arms as he tugged at them. Unus had Dark in a half hug, giggling as Dark howled with a red face, his eyes flickering with crimson and blue flashes.

‘AHAHANNUS DOHOHON’T!’

‘Listen to that laugh! I think he’s enjoying that Annus.’

‘I quite agree Unus.’

Dark’s laughter was deep and warm as it reverberated around the room, like his mirth was a mighty opera. His hair was quickly becoming dishevelled as he struggled vainly against the tickling (which he was secretly enjoying, but Unus and Annus didn’t need to know that). It had been quite a while since Dark had been tickled so thoroughly, and honestly? It was even more fulfilling than he’d remembered. Though, Dark couldn’t help but kick as the tickles at his sides grew deeper and more intense, his instinct to wriggle free irresistible.

‘UNHAHAHAND MEHE!’

‘Why should we do that?’

‘BEHEHECAUSE IHI SAHAID SOHO!’

‘Hmm, I suppose that is an option…’

Annus remarked. Then Unus grinned and piped up.

‘Maybe if you admit how ticklish you are we’ll let you go.’

Dark’s lips parted in shock. The audacity of the demand was one thing, but the embarrassing nature of it was what really took the damn biscuit!

‘I would be amenable to that. What do you say Dark, will you confess?’

Thankfully Annus eased up on the tickling for a moment, allowing him to catch his breath, before he spluttered his indignant response. As if Dark would give in so easily!

‘Absolutely not!’

Dark started kicking again in an attempt to escape, though the existential duo didn’t miss the smile he was wearing – the fun of the whole thing was obvious, and they were happy to keep playing. Unus laughed as he hugged Dark’s torso again to try and keep him down as Annus resorted to grabbing at Dark’s legs, his hands gripping his knees and squeezing them… which drew out the most colossal shriek from Dark. There was a moment of silence as everyone looked at each other. Unus grinned, Annus raised an eyebrow, Dark Chica boofed, and a wobbly smile appeared on Dark’s face as he cleared his throat.

‘Annus.’

‘Oh dear, what’s this?’

‘Annus, my friend–’

‘I think I know just how to persuade you.’

‘Annus wait I–AHH! NOHOHONONONO NOHOT THEHEHERE!’

Dark was a hysterical mess in seconds. Gone was any semblance of the smart elegance which hung from his figure every day, for here now he was merely a man whose kneecaps were ticklish as hell. Annus was delightedly squeezing them, pinching them, rubbing them with his thumbs and forefingers as Dark cackled and jerked. Meanwhile Dark Chica had started barking along excitedly and doing tippy-tappies, happy to see her dad laughing this hard. Unus giggled along, giving Dark’s arms a squeeze.

‘I think you’ve got his sweet spot.’

‘Mm so do I, I wonder if he’s considering a little confession yet?’

‘It’s hard to tell, I think we keep this up for a few minutes.’

‘Fine by me.’

And so they did. Five minutes objectively is not such a long time, unless you’re being tickled of course. Then it might as well be five centuries! Dark was helpless as his knees were tickled within an inch of their life, his suit trousers offering no protection as misty grey tears built in his eyes. Eventually he knew he had to do it. He had to admit defeat, though it pained him to even think of it.

‘THIHIHIS IHIS TOHOHORMENT!!’

‘It doesn’t have to be a torment, you know what we wish to hear.’

‘YOHOHOU AHARE EHEVIHIL!!’

‘I shall take that as a compliment.’

Annus smirked as Dark let out yet another howl of laughter… before he finally conceded.

‘ALRIHIGHT ALRIGHT IHIHI’M TIHICKLISH DAMNIT IHI’M TICKLIHIHISH!!’

Unus and Annus shared a satisfied grin, before they released him carefully from their tickly grip. He remained on the carpet, and slowly rolled into his side and tucked his knees up to his  chest as he panted. He closed his eyes for a few moments, his smile lingering as he felt himself start to calm down. When he opened his eyes, and before he could say a word, he was greeted by Dark Chica lying by him on her belly. She licked his cheek, and he huffed fondly.

‘You were absolutely no help.’

She boofed happily and licked his nose, making him laugh as he sat up – naturally she flopped in his lap, earning her some affectionate belly scratches as her tail thumped rhythmically on the floor. Dark looked between Unus and Annus, his eyes narrowed yet warm.

‘You’re both lucky I value our friendship.’

‘And we value yours.’

Annus replied as Unus grinned, before sitting close so he could scratch behind Dark Chica’s ears softly. Dark smiled lightly as he and Annus shared another look… and Dark was surprised to see Annus’ expression turn soft.

‘It’s endearing.’

‘What is?’

Dark asked. Unus and Annus shared another look, and Unus replied.

‘To know you’re as ticklish as the rest of us.’

Dark huffed and rolled his eyes, but nevertheless felt the warmth of the sentiment the existential pair exuded as they all sat there together. It didn’t take long for them to get comfortable in the soothing room with countless blankets, with the sweetest (and most attention-seeking) puppo in existence. They were a dark group indeed, right to each of their cores… but even so, there was no-one there who was above a smile.

WOOOO HOPE YOU LIKED THIS FIC (SORRY IT TOOK A WHILE!) LEMME KNOW IF YA DID WOOO LUV YOUS!!

[orange-waterfalls]

Dimension Hopping

Yancy x gn!reader

Ask: YANCY FIC PLEAEEEEEEE

A/N: As you can see, I had a lot of free reign with this so i got creative <333 it’s just fluff with the slightest microscopic hint of angst because I am in LOVE with he and also Wilford is a supportive dad and ALSO crying but it’s happy crying I swear!! enjoy!!!

Word Count: 2.7k

-----------

You stared at the prisoner for a lot longer than explicitly necessary. In your defense, it had been a while. A long, long while. Didn’t seem to last as long for him, though. He hadn’t aged a day. Well, that wasn’t true. He had a few new tattoos. You supposed that made sense. But still, you had to stare. He was here. He was really here. Yeah, you’d seen Illy earlier, but he fucking left you, so he doesn’t count. Also Wilford, who kicked you out almost immediately and almost made you cry for it. But Yancy was here and talking and having a conversation and asking how you’ve been and oh boy, those are more tears. You hoped Yancy wouldn’t notice.

He noticed.

“H-Hey, pal, hey, what’s the matter?” He chuckled, a worried look on his face. You shook your head. “Well, obviously there’s somethin’, otherwise you wouldn’t be cryin’.” You shook your head harder. 

It’s stupid, you thought. 

“Hey, if it made you cry, it ain’t stupid.” He asserted. He then paused, thinking for a moment. “Well, actually… You’re allowed to cry. Even if the reason’s stupid. Either way, it’s fine, so you can calm down because I think I might have ta break the glass to comfort cha.” You sniffed aggressively, trying to force your body to fuck off and calm down because it’s not that deep, ok? Besides, Yancy is progressively getting more anxious about it. 

“Would me cryin’ in solidarity make you feel better? I can do that. I could stab myself in the thigh or somethin’ to make me cry. I can do that. You want me to do that?” You shook your head so hard it hurt, smiling nonetheless. “Ok! Ok, I won’t.” And so he just sat there and waited for you to calm down.

You did not, in fact, calm down. You did manage to suppress your sobbing enough that Yancy believed you’d stopped crying. You gave him a shaky thumbs up. He smiled brightly and gave you a confident one back.

“Alright, good! Cause you gotta pay attention. Oh, we wrote a new song!” He said excitedly. He put the phone down, the sound immediately getting muffled and you pointed back, but Yancy was already on the chair and barely paying attention to you. You weren’t gonna interrupt him. It looked like a fun song. You liked seeing him have fun.

You did not like the glow you saw out of the corner of your peripheral. You slowly brought your hand up and looked at it.

No. you thought desperately. No, no, no, no, NO, NO, NO—

You slapped at the crystal and you knocked on the glass. You tried so hard to get Yancy’s attention. He was too into his musical number. He couldn’t hear you over the music and he could barely see you over the lights.

You felt a few more tears slip as you let your hands slide off the glass and collapsed back into the chair. You buried your head in your hands and stared at the crystal as it prepared to take you away again.

Better luck next time, Some mocking voice said in your head. You growled a little. You knew better than to mess with the space-time continuum.

You knew who didn’t, though…

–

Wilford screamed when you kicked his door down. Like legitimately, actually screamed. Like this was a slasher movie and he was about to be murdered by the angry 5’4” space captain who was stalking towards him. 

You didn’t have the crystal anymore. That was important.

“Wha-Yo-HOW did you get here?” He sputtered out with a laugh. You shrugged, making a noncommittal noise. You made your way to the chair across from him and sat down. He looked at you. And you looked at him.

I need your help, you thought.

“My help, you need? Well, I’m always willing to help a friend! Or a universe-destroying mutual acquaintance.” He explained giddily. “I can help with anything! Need to get back with an ex-lover? Fly to Burma? Kill a congressman? Whatever you need!”

I want to get back to Yancy.

“Except that, I can’t help you with that.” He waved off your request, standing to walk elsewhere in the room. You brought your hands out, a question as to why. He simply shook his head and started to pour whiskey that you are 90% sure was not there before. You twisted around in your chair so you were on your knees facing him, gripping the back of the chair.

Wilford! Come on. Please?

“No, now you know there are rules! The first rule is that there are no rules. Second rule is no dimension hopping!” He stated. He set aside the first glass of whiskey. He poured another glass of whiskey. He seemed to think for a moment before pulling another glass from nowhere and instead pouring apple juice in the third one. You weren’t sure if the juice was for you or for him.

You just said there were no rules!

“And the second rule is no dimension-hopping! Come on, try to listen!” He scolded. You sighed, exasperated.

Come on, Wil, I just wanna see someone… your thoughts were a mumble. Wilford stopped in his tracks. You froze as well, thinking something was wrong. He slowly turned to you with a wide smile on his face. Well… it was more like a shit-eating grin. The kind your friends got when you told them who your crush was.

Uh-oh.

Wilford ran back over and crashed into his seat, making you jump and cover your mouth. His chair tipped back a moment before setting itself upright again. Wil slammed one of the glasses in front of you (you still weren’t sure which it was), pulled out his notepad and pen, crossed his legs daintily and looked at you expectedly. You stared at him. He stared at you with a smile.

What.

“Go ahead. Make your case.” He instructed. Your eyebrows furrowed.

What?

“You want me to take you to see a special someone,” He teased and you crossed your arms, sinking in your chair, “I want you to make your case as to why I should take you. Why they’re special.” He flipped a page of the notebook, dabbing the tip of the pen on his tongue and shifting to get comfortable. He smiled at you. You squinted at him.

I don’t gossip. You crossed your arms.

“Everyone gossips.” He argued.

Then I don’t kiss and tell. You turned your head away from him.

“You’ve kissed them?” He gasped, excited. You whipped your head back to look at him.

No! Your thoughts shouted.

“Ah, a budding relationship.” He nodded, jotting something down.

We’re just friends.

“Ohhhh, friends to lovers!” He scribbled a little more. It didn’t seem like he was actually writing anything down.

It’s not like that, he… he doesn’t like me like that.

“Pining, too?!”

Stop! I met him two years ago at–

“SLOWBURN? Ohhhh, this is a good one. How many words? 10k?”

Fuck off!

“20k?! Ohhhh, I ship it already.”

Don’t say ship, Wilford.

“Ok. Pining, friends to lovers, pre-relationship, 20k, slowburn. Anything else?” He leaned forward, absolutely elated. You stared at this strange, strange man for a moment before you sighed. Whatever was happening seemed to be working so far.

… he’s in jail.

“I’M A SUCKER FOR PRISON LOVE. You’ve convinced me, I’ll send you back.”

Yes!

“If you agree to introduce me as your father eventually.”

NO!

“Come on, please? I’ve always wanted to be in the ‘bad boy boyfriend meets the parents’ storyline!”

No.

“Can I be the mom then? Abe can be the dad! I can work a pair of heels, I promise you.” He begged. You heard a noncommittal noise behind you and looked to see Abe grabbing the other glass, not sparing you a second glance as he walked back though the door. Was he greyscale? How did that work? Come to think of it, he could’ve just taken the apple juice just now.

… I kinda want to see that. You admitted, deciding to stop thinking about the goddamn apple juice.

“Alrighty then! Have fun, sweetie!”

Don’t.

“Have fun, kiddo!”

Better.

–

“Hey! Hey, what happened? We was doin’ the song and then ya just up and vanished! And now you’re back! … in my cell. What’re ya doin’ in here? How’d you get in here? What the hell is happening?” Yancy rapid-fired questions at you even as you were inspecting your surroundings and recovering from an interdimensional jump, it would seem. It felt kinda like dizziness mixed with whiplash mixed with jet lag and you might be dying, honestly. 

You had to take a few seconds to recover enough to see clearly in front of you, and you saw him. Yancy. In all his glory. The man himself. The meow meow of all time. Your scrimblo. What the FUCK were you thinking right now. Everything hurt. Oh God.

You didn’t answer Yancy’s question, mostly because you didn’t know yourself. All you knew was that Yancy was there and you were here and you walked over him and interrupted his questioning with a big hug. He froze for a second before jerkily wrapping his arms around you and sniffing hard.

“H-Hey now… that ain’t necessary…” He croaked out. You rubbed his back and petted the little hairs at the nape of his neck and he kept breathing deeply. He was trying not to cry, you knew. You weren’t helping, you knew. You didn’t really care. Crying was healthy, yeah? Yeah. You two could cry. That was fine.

I missed you… You sniffled and let a few tears drop yourself. Yancy hiccuped and held on even tighter. Considering he was a strong man as it was, you had just a little trouble breathing and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You could pass out. You could die here without a care in the world. You heard and felt him mumble something into your neck, but you couldn’t make it out. You hummed inquisitively. He pulled away a little. You panicked and grabbed onto him to keep him close. He abided, staying right in front of your face as he looked at you with wet eyes and a tear-streaked face.

“I missed you… I didn’t… I didn’t know if… I figured you would but… you know.” He chuckled dryly. You frowned and imagined a sad Yancy, sitting behind the glass on visitation day, waiting for someone that wasn’t going to show up until the lights went out. Like Paddington in Paddington 2. That poor little bear. Yancy, your poor little bear. Well, he’s more like a hunk, isn’t he? In those terms.

Wow, that jump really fucked you up.

Never. You pulled him in for another hugged and squeezed tightly. He wheezed and giggled.

“Wow, did yous get stronger? Start workin’ out? You got a solid bear hug there.” He complimented. You basked in the compliment. You nuzzled your face into his neck. His breath hitched and you wondered if you’d crossed a line.

“Hey, I uh–” His voice cracked. Your eyebrows knitted together. You tried to pull back to look at him, but he pushed your face back into his shoulder. “No, no, let me, uh… I gotta… get ready to say something…” He cleared his throat loudly. You winced and so did he.

Ow.

��Sorry,” he apologized, petting your head. You let your eyes close and sighed. He took a breath. You waited and listened. “So… buddy…”

You hummed your acknowledgement. He sucked in a breath.

“Let’s say, hypothetically, I gots a crush. On. Someone I know. And let’s say that crush has… festered a little bit over the past few weeks. And let’s say that I applied for parole because of that person. And that I gots repeated imaginations of us living in a house together and doing stupid domestics like cleaning and cooking and kissing and cuddling and–” He cut himself off. You giggled into his shoulder. He chuckled a little as well. “Well, uh… let’s say I wanna do all that with ‘em. But I… don’t know if they wanna do those things. Some o’ the guys told me about a… ‘talkin’ stage and a… flirtin’ stage and… Iunno. I wanna tell ‘em but I… dunno how. Do I just… outright say it? Rip the bandaid off? Tear the stitches out and hope I don’t lose too much blood?” You were just a tad worried about that analogy, but you nodded slowly nonetheless. 

“Right. Yeah. That makes… yeah,” He sighed. You pulled away and looked at him. He looked very, very nervous. He was even sweating a little. You grinned a little and started wiping his forehead with your sleeve. He laughed. “Thanks. Thank yous.” You stepped back a little and waited. He wanted to say something to you. It really looked like he did. You hoped Wilford was right. About the friends to lovers. Not the 20k or slowburn. You’re done pining.

Yancy cleared his throat and you snapped out of your thoughts to look at him. He was sweating again. You stepped forward to wipe off his forehead again, but he pushed your arm away, grabbing your hand as he went. You raised your eyebrows. He looked at you, seeming to be searching in your eyes for something.

“Pal,” He started. You nodded. You weren’t actually sure if he knew your name. That might be a problem later. Not now, though. “I have… a question… to ask you…”

Yes. You nodded. He rolled his shoulders and straightened his back. He looked at you, determined.

“Do yous… want… to be… my…” He paused and pursed his lips. You tilted your head, waiting patiently. He opened and closed his mouth uselessly. You reached out to his face and took it in your hands, making him look at you. His face went a little pink as he swallowed harshly. And you waited.

“... romantic partner?” He finished with a squeak. You smiled widely and released his face. You nodded enthusiastically. He sighed. Then he giggled. Then he started laughing, punching triumphantly at the air. You watched him, endlessly entertained. Then he high-fived you.

He high-fived you.

He is your new “romantic partner” and, to celebrate, Yancy gave you a fucking high-five. 

He seemed to also realize that this may not have been the appropriate reaction because he looked at your hand and then at his own and then at your face.

“Uh…” He snickered. “Well, I, uh… that didn’t really–” You grabbed his face and kissed him. It wasn’t that dramatic of a kiss like it always was in movies, just a little kiss. Basic. Chaste and normal and nothing to get heated over.

But Yancy did get heated. Yancy stood frozen for a solid 30 seconds before his face went bright red and he sunk to the floor. You watched him cover his face with his hands and fall onto his side. You wondered if you broke him. Then, he kicked his feet and screamed into his hands. You covered your own mouth and suppressed a laugh. You waited until he calmed down a few seconds later. He slowly dropped his hands from his face and gave you an intimidating look.

“Tell no one.” He warned. You nodded. He smiled and jumped up, giving you another hug. His smile quickly fell, however. “Hang on, how yous gonna get… out?” You raised your eyebrows, not really knowing how yourself. 

Right on time, a pink wormhole appeared next to you. You and Yancy both stared at it, confused and frightened.

“Well, what are you waiting for?! Come on! I need to hear everything!” Wilford’s voice echoed through the portal. Yancy gave you a look.

“You know this guy?” He asked, seemingly of the portal itself. You shrugged and made your way to it in any case. You stopped, looking back at Yancy. He looked a little worried. Nervous. 

You brought your hands up, making a little heart directed at him. He smiled, blushing, mimicking the action. You stepped back into the portal, not taking your eyes off of your love as you went through.

[leighsartworks216]

#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

Masterlist

Tag List Form

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

[fizzing-saturn]

literally sobbing my youtuber egos hyperfixation is coming back except its ONLY ever been markiplier and (mostly) crankgameplays egos and there is NO CONTENT FOR CRANKGAMEPLAYS EGOS anywhere 😭😭😭

theyre so interesting too!!! dark and anti (who admittedly i dont know that much abt) are also interesting and silly/pos but BLANK!!!

hes so sad because hes the embodiment of all the negative stuff! but ethan did. nothing with him! wtf! and the character design is so aggfhdf i really like the idea of a gaunt bonewhite figure with eyes leaking oil and a face perpetually stuck in a sob

and unus 😔 the physical embodiment of DEATH?? he was only alive for one year but he was my blorbo the whole way through

and those are the only ones people really talk about?! i mean some people yeah but i feel like most don’t acknowledge mrs thomson or mad mike or bernice or (idk her name) his yandere ego or father ethan any of the rest of them! its so :((((

any ways. im going to go have thoughts abt Them. very sorry for the long post the tags are also very long but i Have Opinions and i needed them to come out

:(

[shabeeboothedrawingender]

Darkstache and Bactor Double Date - Requested by @justnyat

Wilford and Dark had been dating for quite a while, they were actually happily married with four kids now. They hadn't had a date in years. So, Wilford thought of a great idea, a double date. But with who? Benjamin and Actor, even though they weren't dating. But, hopefully this double date would get their relationship closer. So they headed out to the bar that they were going to meet Actor and Benjamin at, their four kids were being babysat by Dark’s mother.

They finally arrived and sat at the table next to Actor and Benjamin, the two not noticing them yet.

“Did you buy a new suit just for this master?” Benjamin asked, smiling. Actor showed off his new crimson suit. “Of course, my dear, you deserve the best for this outing! Well, so do I, but I thought of being generous.” Actor stated. Benjamin let out a little chuckle until he noticed Wilford and Dark watching them. “Ahem, yes, yes. You would want to impress others wouldn't you?” Ben did not like when the two caught him and Actor flirting.

“Already started getting horny without us eh?” Wilford smirked. Benjamin blushed. “SIR WARFSTACHE, THAT'S NOT WHAT THIS IS-!” Wilford chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Wilford, leave the poor butler alone. Actor is nothing but bad news anyway.” Dark looked at Actor with a glare of hatred, as usual. “Alright, my dear lamb~” Wilford teased. “Shut up.” Dark said as he sat down at the table.

The night went on with the four drinking and talking to their partners. And, of course, Actor and Wilford were the drunkest by the end of the night.

I hope I delivered well >:3

[intolerable-sushi]

I am sad and lonely so I am writing a Dark x reader angst story. Here is a small snippet.

_____________________________________

The road to vengeance was paved in blood and sweat. It was a path Dark had no trouble taking. Friendships and bonds were not something he saw value in so using and killing people to get his way was a very casual thing for him. The only thing he truly wanted at the end of the day was to bestow the same suffering onto Mark as he did to everyone around him. However, despite his best efforts to focus on the task at hand on thing continued to plague his mind. Someone from the past who continued to haunt him no matter how hard he tried to forget.

The attorney. His attorney.Damiens's attorney