#the author writes.

[puppeteered-poetry]

Introduction to the Snow.

(Hypothermia, Frostbite, death, hurt no comfort)

Ao3 link

   Sirens. Loud screeching sirens and red lights are what Celci woke up to. She looked to the others, Burt blinking sleep from his eyes and Gunther grabbing his gun with shaking, adrenaline fueled hands, Celcionna heard the awful words from the voice of the ship.

    “Emergency evacuation effective immediately, make your way to the airlock and await your shuttle. Now boarding group A.”

   Group A were civilians. People heading for the colony that weren’t crew. Next would be general crew, Reactor, Cryo, ADS, and finally Head Engineer and Captain. Celci followed Burt and Gunther out of the Crew Lead room, meeting the Captain on the bridge.

   The Captain was pacing, quick to ask them where Mark was. They didn’t know. The Captain really didn’t like that answer.

   “What do we do, Captain?” Gunther’s teeth were clamped down on his cigar, jaw clenched so tight he threatened to bite through.

   “... You all stay here, I’ll go find him.” Celci spoke, determined. “Make sure everyone escapes.”

   The Captain moved to speak up, but Celci was already gone, counting on the boys to make sure the Captain oversaw the evacuation. She checked the failing systems list, figuring he must have been too involved in a repair.

    Bridge was down and repaired. ADS was down and repaired. 

    Cryo was down.

   She ran down the hall, pressing her hand to the scanner. It tried to open, but it must have frozen shut. She grabbed a crowbar from ADS, prying it open with struggle.

   There Mark was, covered in frost. Icicles hung off of his hands and uniform, which he had pulled off. The Hypothermia must have set in.

   “CC…” Mark drawled. “Hey… Cryo’s… Cryo’s down. I was… I was, um. I was fixing it, but the scanner stopped working…” He giggled, shivering.

   Celcionna quickly shoved him back in his uniform’s sleeves, zipping it up. His fingers had already turned black, as had the tips of his ears. If he survived, they’d have to amputate, and make serious tissue grafts.

   She picked him up, his clothes damp from condensation, trying to bring him to the Reactor room. He could warm up there. He could live.

   “CC… Celci… Don’t go in there. Reactor’s overheating. It’s going to blow any minute.”

   Celci paused, swallowing hard. “No. No, no, you need to warm up, Mark, you’re freezing, you’ll die of hypothermia any minute!” She wasn’t sure when she had started yelling, but she was.

   “Hey, don’t worry… I’ll… I’ll come back. I can live forever.” Mark shrugged weakly.

   “Stop it, Mark! There’s no coming back from this!”

   “... Computer… Seal access to Reactor.” Mark commanded, ignoring Celci’s wide, brown eyes focused on him.

   “Access to Reactor sealed. Head Engineer in critical condition.” The computer responded.

   “Mark! Mark, you idiot!” Celci sobbed, sitting him on the Cryo console and trying desperately to rip her own uniform off to wrap around him. 

   Mark slapped clumsily at her hands, his fingers like rocks. “Stop that… You… You go evacuate. I’m not… Leaving m… My… Baby…” 

   Mark’s eyes glassed over, and he closed them slowly, leaving Celci to sob harder, ripping off her glove to check his pulse. It weakened faster and faster, until it was gone entirely.

   Tears froze to Celci’s cheek, yet to her surprise she laughed. She stumbled forward, tears piling into messy icicles on her face as she wrenched a pipe from the wall. Her breath was fogging. Snow piled up.

   She jammed the pipe into the scanner, forcing the door open. Snow flooded the halls. Her giggles echoed, delirious from grief. 

   He won’t live forever, but they can. They all can, frozen eternally in Cryo Sleep.

   They’ll live forever tonight.

[puppeteered-poetry]

Unauthorized appearance.

Hey so what if Darkiplier in space, lol. Adaptation of an rp between @blood-falling and @stagenameouroborus

------------------------------------------

Another loop. Another loop in a long line of loops, another round and fall from the mortal coil. Trying in vain to make it right, to change anything.

   Another loop, another universe, another death, another sacrifice, another set of blood covering your hands, another futile attempt at making everything right again. Your options laid out before you like every single time before, and there is a tiredness in the very centre of your being. 

    Fix it from the outside. You think. You could at least get a moment’s solace among the stars. 

    You hurry forward, barely acknowledging your surroundings or the announcement the Engineer is revived. Off to the airlock again. Running away from the problem, justified by some vague sense it will move things forward.

    But it never does.

    You turn towards the bridge door, halted only by the meek, hopeless voice of the only companion who knows.

     “... Captain…?” He called behind you. The joy, the enthusiasm, everything that made your Head Engineer him has been gone a long time. Replaced by clinging dread, and deep eye bags that are the only thing to persist, anymore. You half wonder if you’re the same story.

    He was looking at his beret, scratching at the applique’s stitching. “... The airlock’s compromised. Your say is final, of course, but… Could you… Could you maybe go with me?” 

     He doesn’t like being alone. Never did, but especially not now. He depends on you.

     You halt in place, exhaustion barely manifesting into concern. He’s trapped in this loop, too. Along for the ride. You can’t just leave him alone.

      You place your hand on his shoulder, before wrapping your arm around both. Of course you will. 

      Besides, it’s something different. A part of you feels guilt for the excitement being much more than the worry for Mark.

      Mark sighed in relief, like you lifted a large weight off his shoulders. “Great, right- Okay! Let’s do this!” He tries to mimic his normal excitement. “Captain and Mark, the best duo to ever live forever and ever in a hell of our own making!”

     You walk down the hall together, the atmosphere… Changing. The lights are dimmer, and there's fog, like Cryo. That wasn’t normal.

     Mark laughed, trying to force himself to make a sound. “Hey, that’s weird, who turned up the… A… C…” 

     He trailed off from his attempt at a joke, looking down. You followed his gaze to find a clump of snow on the floor.

    You hesitate, reaching out to grab Mark by the back of his jumpsuit and gently pull him a little closer. This was new. This was different. This was better wake up Captain, before you forget how to. You look around, trying to see if there was anything to do with Cryo around, maybe a burst coolant pipe or even Celci wandering around. The snow... felt familiar in a way you couldn't quite fathom. Somewhere some part of you knows, but it’s not the you in this room, at this moment.

    Slowly, you edge towards it, poking at it with your boot.

    Wrong choice, Captain.

    As soon as you touch the snow, Mark nearly doubles over, recoiling and covering his ears. The lights flickered, dimming and humming, sparking in some places. You try to ask what’s wrong, when you hear it too.

    Your ears are ringing.

    "U-uh... Captain? I don't... I don't mean to worry you, but something about this seems... Weird... W-we should hurry up and fix the airlock, I think." Mark tried to push forward, to continue despite the pain. But he was shivering, from fear and from the cold.

    The ringing must be dampened by your helmet, because it’s not as seemingly painful to you. You can still walk, it’s just like a bad case of tinnitus. You’re much more worried about the hairline fractures in the visor of your helmet.

   You can’t abandon him to worry about it though, so you follow Mark closer to the airlock. Was the Airlock’s corridor always this long?

    Mark pressed his hand to the scanner, jumping in. He didn’t notice what you notice, an odd, looming shadow in the corner. The long, needle-like claws grasping his shoulder. You try to get his attention as he pops open the maintenance panel, but he notices the long, deliberate rip in his uniform from the claws first.

    He looks to you in dead silence.

    “Run. Shut the airlock and run.”

    The hand pulls at him, but you’re pulling too. You’re not abandoning him anymore. Not again. He shakes his head, smiling.

    “I’ll come back, I promise. Just run. I’ll buy you time.” He gripped the doorway, both of the shadow’s hands pulling now. He doesn’t even look scared. That gives you a special kind of hurt.

     “I love you, Captain.”

     He… Mark shut the door on himself, your hands retract instinctively. You couldn’t even say it back. You couldn’t speak at all.

     The lights in the airlock broke, and all you could hear were his screams.

     You do as you were told, and you run. You run, but why? Why not die and loop again, Captain? Why are you crying, when death has no meaning, now?

      You’re so… Passive. So… Hopeless. Though… You really had no choice back there. The story is continuing, and you are audience to it. You take a backseat in your own story.

     And you just found a new way to kill your best friend.

       Or… You thought you did, when Mark called after you.

       “Captain! Captain!!” He hurried after you, looking fresh out of the cryo pod. He wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug. “You made it… Good.”

       Your stomach sinks as you return the hug, relief only temporary as dread and questions return. Your loops were normally synchronized. Both had to die to get a new start, but… He was back. You squished, pinched and prodded his face to make sure it was him.

      “O-ow! Captain, Captain it’s me!” He pouted, swatting at your hands, before laughing. “Oh… I’m just glad to see you again so soon.”

     You hug him tighter now. Your tinnitus faintly hums still. You try to think about what this could mean for you both, when he beats you to it.

     “Do you know what this means? Freedom from the loop! As long as one of us lives, we can keep going!” He grinned… Maybe it’s just the lights, but his uniform looks more desaturated than usual. 

     Why does that make you afraid?

     “Now if we can just fix the ship and get to the warp core without us both dying, we can fix this! We should head to the bridge, run some diagnostics.” You start to see choices, when he shakes them away. “No, no time to think for thirty seconds just standing there, bridge now!” 

      He pulls you forward, and you want to feel relieved, but you just can’t. Something feels wrong.

      “Computer, run diagnostics.” He puts his hands on his hips proudly, and for once the computer actually listens.

      “Asteroid Defense System is Online. Cryogenics System is Online. Reactor Core is Online. Airlock is.. Ü̸͔̤͕͖̹̬̒̄̿̓̽̊̇̏̈n̸̢͍͔̣̻̖̯̪̳̘̙̣͈͔̤͆̇̆̾̓͗̇͐͛͒͂̍͜d̷̡̞̲̻̣̼̱̞̖̥̝͙̣̣̱̳̪͋̿̅͒̆͘̚ẽ̷̦̗̹̯͈̘̯̰̔̿͆͛̈͌̾͌̎̆̕͘ẗ̸́̽̃̊̀̇̋̃͆̽̉̂́̽͘͜͠ḝ̴̛̳̙̟̪̝̦̬̓̓̎̓̾́͑̾͜ç̸̳̤͍̼͕͖̟̻̙̪͎̒t̶̢͍̲̯͓͈̟̹̣͂̋̄̏e̷̢̮̼͎̺̙̰͓̮͖̙̯̞̮͖͗̐̓̒̓̉̅̽̋̐̎̌̑͜d̷̫͛̑͗́̈͌̌͐̽̉͘͝.̵̡̧̢͓̹͇͉̫̹͍͖̘̪́ Online. Ship status is optimal.”

      “Oh! Well… That was easy.”Mark turned towards you with a smile. 

      Without thinking, without knowing how, without having it before, you present two bowls of ice cream. Chocolate… And… Vanilla. You look at Mark with confusion.

      “Oh! Ice cream? Don’t mind if I do!” His silly finger wiggling and laugh feels forced. He seems happy, but his eyes are so dark.

      …. Dark…

      S̶͚̺͕̏ẗ̷̘̦͝a̷͛̀͜r̸͖̃t̸͕̹̥͌̆ĩ̵̱̮̪̋͝n̴̽̑̉͜ǵ̴̙̼ ̶̡͓̥̊t̶̝̺̪̉̀o̶͕̼͐̚ ̷͎͚̰̌͂r̸̻̰͛̈͗ͅe̸̻͆̀̍m̸͇̩͍̃͝e̴͇͆ṃ̵͉̼̀̇͌b̸̟͇̀̀ḛ̷̻̤͂̇r̵̡̐̚͜ ̸̙̯͗ṡ̸͍͖o̷̮͛̈͠m̸̨̻̿͐ḙ̶̣͍̋́̚t̷̰̪̥͆h̴͍̳̿̐̒ͅi̴̙͝ͅṉ̵̾ǵ̶͖̹̗̽͠,̸̯͊͋ ̴̢͔̇̒̚C̶̟̭͆̒ͅạ̵̹͂́͊p̷̤̅̑̉t̷͍̐͐̚a̵̮͓̿̂͝î̴̤́͠n̵̞̓͐͊?̶̣̮̃̔

      He takes the bowl of vanilla, leaving you with chocolate. You stare down at the bowl, confused. Your ears start to hurt from the ringing. You look up, and drop your bowl.

      Dark. Dark sits on the ship console, eating the vanilla ice cream. They wear the same uniform, only entirely gray, with the chest tag reading backwards, and a few new pins. A red and cyan skull, and a pink mustache.

      “Did you miss me, Captain?” They smile, one that doesn’t reach their eyes. The Bridge is dark, bathed in red and blue light from solitary, opposite corners.

      “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t notice, but here you are, our little monster, back to the games.” They sneer. “And did you have fun? Were you able to forget?”

      They flickered, appearing next on their feet.

      “I thought Dorene would be enough, but maybe you just clung too hard. You don’t want to wake up from the pretty dreams he weaves you, anymore.” They cracked their neck.

      “I’m glad you don’t really talk, these days. I don’t want to hear your excuses.” They stood still, but flashes of them enraged kept appearing around them.

      You turn to try and open the bridge door, but the hand scanner is broken.

      “You’re bold, I will admit. Thinking I wouldn’t block you off from means of escape is a new low. Really. I’m honestly insulted.” You’re pulled away from the door, and smashed back into it, one, two, three times. You slump to the ground, they’re still at the console. They haven’t laid a finger on you.

       “As I was saying. You wouldn’t wake up, so I took away the only piece of the puzzle you pay attention to, anymore.”

       Dark unfurls their hand, a marionette of the engineer dangling on strings revealed.

       “Don’t worry. He’s safe… For now. He’s in his dressing room, rehearsing his lines and sipping his coffee. He’ll return soon, and I will depart.” They looked at their watch. “But first… You have something of mine.”

     They walk towards you, kneeling down. You weakly reach out to them, and they snatch your hand, their claws wrenching the warp crystal from your palm. You bleed black, your vision blurring.

     The void and the ringing of your ears are all that remain, before you enter the next loop.

[puppeteered-poetry]

It's early in the morning, running fingers through my freshly shorn hair.

I look outside to see the planters on the porch teeming with unruly life.

All my friends are growing up, yet I don't feel discontent.

I haven't grown yet, like them. My branches don't sprawl off to college.

But I don't despair. Wrapping myself in the thick quilt gifted to me, drinking coffee, I think about it.

My roots don't yet run as deep, but compared to last winter, my leaves are green, and I feel the sun.

Winter is coming again soon, sure, but Spring always follows, and I'll find my bearings again.

[puppeteered-poetry]

    The Head Engineer sat in the hallway leading to the Warp Core, smoke billowing from the hole shot into his chest. His time in this loop was nearly up, yet something felt… Different.

     His ears were ringing, vision blacking out, yet… He was still conscious. Mostly, anyway… And someone else was there.

     “... Your Captain has left you.” The entity’s voice echoed. Mark looked up, startled by what seemed to be a member of the crew, except completely greyscale, with cracks down their face.

     This person almost looked to be Mark’s brother, how similar they looked. They sat down beside him, gazing down at the wound.

      “... This universe is going to die, soon. I have seen it.” They spoke softly. “... Are you frightened?”

     The Engineer squeaked, nodding with some hesitance. He was terrified of the entity themself, let alone the insanity they spoke of.

     The entity pauses, offering their hand to hold. Mark squinted, confused, before taking it.

     “... I know you don’t know me right now, but… I missed you, old friend… Wilford has already left this universe. I will join him soon. I just wanted to see you one last time.”

     “... Huh?”

     The demon pauses, chuckling. They plant a kiss on the engineer’s forehead.

      “Nothing to concern yourself with. Good night, Mark.”

[puppeteered-poetry]

We really should hate each other.

(alcohol, suicidal ideation/requesting to be killed)

"We're not doing this again." Dark sighed, setting their jaw. They looked down at the glass of wine handed to them. "For all I know, this is poison."

"It is not poison. Was it poison last time?" The Actor poured his own glass, swirling it around.

"No, but that's the bait. A false sense of security." They sniffed their glass, suspicious.

They watch Mark down the glass of wine, quickly pouring another. He'll be drunk in no time.

"Okay, you got me, it's poison. Party poison." Mark giggles, already tipsy. "You're so stuffy, come onnn, live a little!"

"I'm dead." They roll their eyes. "Why am I here, anyway?"

"... I... I wanted to say something, I think." He squinted.

Dark gingerly sipped their wine. "Usually."

Mark poured himself into Dark's lap, kicking his legs and squealing. "Oh, you're so cute. I love the bit, you know, the brooding mysterious, tall dark and handsome.... Thing. Very suited to you."

Dark said nothing, tempted to push him off. They glanced down at his big, brown eyes.

"... Do you still like me?" Mark's voice is soft, but his words slur. He's drank Dark's wine too.

He was always a lightweight, and the snake only amplified it.

They want to be angry. To shout at him for every wrongdoing he's been responsible for.

"We're suppose to hate each other." They say instead of answering. "We really should hate each other."

Mark yawns, nodding vacantly as he curled up. He always looked like a kitten when he was tired.

"... Dark... I... I think I'm tired... I think I'm tired of being alive. You'd kill me if I asked, right?"

They turn their head, not letting Mark see their reaction. The agony, the strain of being forced into a role like this. Where their condemnation is an act of mercy.

When they turn back, he's asleep, head pressed to their still, broken heart.

Dark carried him upstairs to bed, tucking him in with a kiss. Their hands come with two extra pairs. Red and blue.

Their throat is tight.

"... I do like you. I wish it wouldn't hurt to."

[puppeteered-poetry]

[ FEAR ] with Darkiplier? I rarely see him portrayed as actually scary in fics, and you write intimidating really well.

At first I was unsure, I know them personally, but they were very excited about it, and I saw it, and I'm here for it so here we go.

Warnings: Written in second person (addressing the reader as a part of the fic) and contains harm towards the reader.

~

   How had you ended up here again? The same lonely, cold void ringing in your ears, your eyes trying to widen enough to see anything.

   There they are. The reason for it. As they stare at you, you begin to recall the steps leading to this.

    You were separated from Mark. They step closer. You two were investigating a haunted house. Another step. The Windows broke when he split up with you.

     Dark towers over you. You try to step back and hit a wall you didn’t know existed. They place a hand on the wall over your shoulder, their eyes are intense in their glare.

     “Well… If it isn’t our Little Monster… Trapped, like a fly in a spider’s web.” Their voice hurts your ears, and they’re so close. Their aura sickens you, roaring and bright. Too much. 

     You try to scoot your way out of this encounter, they grip your shoulder.

     “Did I say you could leave?” They chastise. They’re mocking you. “No? That’s right… You don’t listen to me, I’ve noticed. You’ve been ignoring my words… So let me help it stick.”

     Dark took out an ornate dagger, roses etched into the blade.

     And they plunge it into your shoulder, to the wall. You’re stuck. It’s wedged deep.

     “I used to find it frustrating, how you continue participating in this endless, fruitless endeavor… Now I laugh. You will never understand, will you?”

     Dark paced away, glitching a chair to sit down. Ornate, clearly Victorian era, with spider-web brocade upholstery. They have a wine glass in their hands.

     “Don’t worry… I will help you. You will understand. I will keep you here. Liberation from being the forever pawn. If your “hero”,” They practically spat, voice dripping with vitriol, “Manages to pull his head out of his ass and realize you are missing… He may duel for you. But I do not expect him to win. You and I will stay here, beyond the Ouroborus. We will be free.” 

     Dark smiled. A cold glint to their teeth, their dark eyes. “Why don’t you sit down?” They laugh sadistically, an unseen force ripping you free from the knife. You grab your bleeding shoulder as they drag you to a matching chair. 

      “Oh, my little Monster… I think you’re going to enjoy your stay.”

[puppeteered-poetry]

myabe [SOOTHE] or [NIGHTMARE] with platonic Mark and Mack? Gotta help your weird little alternate universe clone feel more like a human person sometimes, right?

Hiiii bestie <3 here you go

Warnings for paranoia inducing phrases, panic attacks, negative thoughts towards the self.

   “What if the world forgot you?” Was the question the crew asked in unison, staring down at Mack as he glitched and flickered. A question that haunted him, nagging at the back of his mind constantly.

    “What if the world forgot you?” They repeated, their collective voices droning. Mack needed to get out.

    His eyes snapped open, escaping the nightmare with his heart pounding. He was drenched in sweat, his chest heavy with pure dread.

    Mack stumbled down the hall, eyes bleary and struggling to focus on anything, on where he was. Did he get forgotten? Did everyone leave him behind? Did the Captain deem him unfit and dismiss him in his sleep?

    Mack collapsed in the kitchen, red eyes wide. Pix presence caused Mark to freeze, mouth full of whatever god-awful concoction he had managed this time.

    Mark rushed to finish his bite and swallow, smiling nervously. “You all right, little buddy?”

    “They forgot me.” Mack stammered out, glitching.

    Mark winced, setting aside the cream cheese and peanut butter he was holding to join Mack on the floor. He couldn’t help but feel the guilt he had been told not to. He didn’t mean to have made Mack have these issues.

    “Who did?” He asked, wrapping an arm around the unstable demon beside him.

    “M-my crew. They all forgot me.” Mack stated, hyperventilating.

    “How could they forget you? You’re pretty cool I think.” Mark smiled softly, feeling out of his depth. Usually he was the one needing reassurance.

    Mack only whined in response. He didn’t know what to make of anything, of the beautiful tile beneath them, of his lack of uniform. 

    “Dorene couldn’t forget you, I mean, you’re her grandson!” 

    Mack sniffled, trembling. “C-can I call her? Please?”

    Mark gritted his teeth, not exactly enthusiastic about bothering Dark at this time of night, but knowing Mack needed them. He nodded, passing over his phone.

    Mack’s hands froze, realizing the time. Realizing he was probably bothering everyone. He shouldn’t wake her. He shook his head in frenzy, setting the phone down. He was struggling to breathe, glitching harder.

    “No? That’s okay. We can call later.” Mark ruffled his hair. He searched his mind for anything Dark would do to calm him down. “Uh… I have a task for you. Very important. Count the blue things in here for me.”

    “V-very important?” Pix asked hopefully. If it was important, pix couldn’t let pix Captain down. 

    One… Two… Three… He counted carefully, not noticing his breath evening out, his heart slowing.

    “... Seventeen.” Mack stated quietly, looking to Mark. 

    Mark nodded, smiling. “Nice! Good job, buddy.”

    Mack had a question on his mind. Mark knew exactly what he was too scared to ask. “You wanna sleep in my room tonight?”

    Mack nodded, rubbing his eyes.

[puppeteered-poetry]

Laid to rest.

I asked to post this on behalf of Sinclair. This was not the original request, but I'm sure you'll like it anyway! -Captain YIN

“... Hey. It’s me again. Been a while, right?” Mark placed a brilliant cyan flower on the ground before him.

He sat down, folding his legs beneath him. His eyes were cloudy.

“... I’m sorry. For what happened. I… I didn’t know. It… it’s not your fault, it’s mine.” Mark sniffled.

“Mark? Who are you talking to?” Celci asked, her voice soft. Sympathetic.

Mark jumped, not realizing she had approached. He wiped at his eyes, getting to his feet.

“N-no one. No one at all.” He lied, shoving his fidgeting hands in his pockets.

“... Isn’t that where Gunther buried the warp core?” She pointed down at the flower.

Mark paled, scratching the back of his neck. “O-oh, is it? Weird…”

Celci didn’t buy it. Of course not. She was too smart, even if Mark wasn’t sweating buckets. She pulled him close with an arm.

“... It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.” She patted his chest, not meeting eyes.

“What do you mean? Wh-what are you talking about?” He squirmed, feeling hot, wanting to run.

“... The Captain told me what happened. I asked them what was wrong, they told me everything… I… Remember some of it. I remember freezing everyone…” She bit at her lip, guilt weighing at her chest.

“... oh…” Was all he said, throat tight. “... CC… It is my fault. I built it. That’s why everything went wrong. You can’t say it’s not my responsibility. My failure.”

“You only wanted what was best for the colony, Mark. That’s what all of us wanted.”

Mark buried his face in her shoulder, sobbing. He cried a lot more since they had arrived on the new planet.

Celcionna pet his hair, lifting him up and carrying him back. He needed some rest.

She brought him to his module, an apartment of sorts they lived in together. She laid him in bed, pulling his boots, bracer and comm off for him. She turned to leave, but he clung to her sleeve.

She looked down at him, removing her own bracer and boots, climbing into bed with him.

[puppeteered-poetry]

"That's cheating, you fuck."

Maybe you and Alpha are playing a video game, and then someone wins unfairly

>:)

Uh oh I got a little silly with it

   Sinclair’s brow was furrowed, concentrating. With every slash of his sword he was met with one in turn, and time was running out. Alpha stood before him, his blade sharp and true. And in an instant…

   He had vanished.

   Sinclair whipped his head around, looking desperately for him, but to no avail. He fell to the hard ground, defeated.

    BloodForInk was slain by SunSoakedCode using Divine Retribution.

    Sinclair looked up from his laptop at Alpha, who was grinning smugly. “That’s cheating, you fuck! Who the hell uses an invisibility potion in the middle of a swordfight?!”

    “Not you, evidently.” Alpha chuckled softly, collecting Sinclair’s fallen items for safekeeping. “All’s fair in love and war, my dear.”

    “Oh, is it?” Sinclair’s face turned stony as he set his laptop aside, approaching Alpha. 

    He pushed Alpha’s computer away from them, sitting in their lap. Alpha raised an eyebrow.

    “What on earth are you doing?”

    “Something I’ve been meaning to for a long time.” Sinclair growled clutching Alpha’s jaw, pushing his lips against Alpha’s with a fervent passion.

    Alpha reciprocated, wrapping Sinclair into their arms. Alpha’s smooth tongue exploring the Author’s mouth carefully. 

   When the Author pulled away, his eyes were golden. “Alpha’s minecraft character was bit by Silverfish.”

   “Oh, you sneaky boy.” Alpha scowled, their vibrant blue eyes piercing Sinclair’s very soul. “You’re going to have to make it up to me, Muse.”

    “Am I, now?” He grinned, pressing his forehead against theirs. “I’m sure you have ideas.”

[puppeteered-poetry]

Ayo?

Maybe A fic about celci flexing how strong she is by carrying mark and he gets flustered 🥺👉👈

>:333 absolutely

    A hand shot up in vain, reaching desperately towards the shelf so tantalizing in its proximity, yet so far. Mark strained, trying to grab the manual the Captain requested of him, slipping his boots off just to stand on his tiptoes easier.

    Miraculously, the distance between his hand and the thick book closed, and he reached it successfully. But not on his own. He looked down at the arms around his wait, the white insulated sleeves could only belong to one.

    “CC?!” Mark cried as he was lowered, turning to see her smug expression.

    “The Captain asked me to help you.” Celci informed the awestruck Engineer.

    It was an odd feeling, Mark’s heart fluttering. His face was warm, and not just from the embarrassment of being too short to reach something.

    “No fair!” He whined “Since when did you get so strong?!” 

    Celcionna rolled her eyes, taking the manual from him. “Since we underwent that physical training regiment. Did you think you were the only one keeping up with that?”

    Mark folded his arms. “No. I just… Didn’t know it would be so effective. I had that, by the way. I was about to get it before you interrupted.”

    Mark reached for the manual to have it back, wanting to fulfill his orders himself, but was instead met with being slung over Celci’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She carried him easily, as he kicked his feet.

    “Hey!! Let me go, come on!! You’re such an asshat!” He protested in vain.

    Celci laughed, a rarity. She was normally incredibly serious, and Mark would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t find the sound so beautiful.

    She entered the bridge, dropping Mark off, who immediately hid his face in his hands, face red with a strange mix of emotions. The Captain thanked them both, fluffing Mark’s hair sympathetically. He’ll deal with the weird feeling in his stomach later, he decided.

[puppeteered-poetry]

[HAVEN] WITH DARK AND ACTOR PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU /lh

Sorry this took so long, I was not feeling so hot yesterday </3

    Dark stared up at the ceiling, their entire body aching. They were exhausted from last night’s fight, but what was new?

    Glancing over at the clock on their bedside table, they figured Wilford must already be at the studio, and they should soon go to join them. They pried themself out of bed, repressing groans of agony as their bones clicked.

    Dark descended the staircase, rubbing their eyes. They needed coffee. Well not need, exactly, but it made them feel a little more normal. They stopped dead in their tracks when they saw the living room, however.

    Mark was on their couch, curled up. Asleep. Dozens of terrible possibilities rushed through their head. Was it a trap? Was he knocked out after following them home? Was he… Dead…?

    Dark shook their head, taking their cane and poking at the sleeping Actor. He bolted awake, breath heavy and eyes wide.

    “D-don’t kill me!” He cried, before focusing his slitted pupils on the person behind the wakeup call. “Oh… Dark.” 

    Mark cleared his throat, getting to his feet. Dark’s gaze was making him sweat, his fear only amplified when his thick makeup had left a mark on their sofa.

    “Why are you here.” Dark grumbled. It wasn’t a question, really, it was a demand.

    Mark smiled, unsure what else to do with himself as he came up with an excuse. His train of thought was crashed suddenly by Dark jabbing him with the cane once more.

    “The truth, please.”

    Mark sighed, rubbing his face and further displacing his makeup. “... I didn’t- I mean… The manor gets scary when I lose. And, you know… No one but me lives there anymore. Everyone left.” Because I drove them away. He thinks, but he can’t swallow his pride enough to admit it.

    “... I see.” Dark lowered their cane. They ought to mock him, sneer at his weakness. Instead, they return to heading towards the kitchen. “You still take your coffee blonde and sweet, yes?”

    “Hey! I do not take it blonde!” Mark protested, grateful they didn’t mock him.

    Dark can’t help but smirk, taking on Mark’s appearance to tease him. “Oh what is this? It still looks like coffee, send it back and have my assistant fired!”

    Mark gasped indignantly. “How dare you slander me like this! I should execute you! To the stocks with ye!”

    “You can’t kill me in a way that matters.” Dark grinned, before the pair burst into laughter.

    Neither could force themselves to acknowledge it, but they had missed being able to be comfortable with each other.

[puppeteered-poetry]

"Please stay. I don't think I can be alone tonight."

With Google x Author?

All right, warnings for intrusive thoughts, thoughts of self harm, violent impulses and such <3

   Sinclair was dripping sweat, eyes darting around wildly as words filled his head. Intrusive passages boring holes in his skull, making him want to tear his hair out.

   He hadn’t written a story in a few days, and it was beginning to take its toll, words of malice etched themselves into his skin, making him bleed, and the next time he blinked they were gone. The line between fiction and reality blurred on nights like this.

   A slender, clawed hand reached out from the darkness. Sinclair only sat there, waiting to be taken. Hoping for relief. For escape.

   Instead, he was met with the gentle hand of Alpha. Their lights illuminating the dark living room with a graceful blue.

   “Pl-please…” Sinclair gripped onto Alpha’s shirt with all of his strength. “Please stay. I don’t… I don’t think I can be alone tonight.”

   Alpha was the only one Sinclair could be around without risking their life. The only person strong enough to combat him if he got violent.

   “Of course, Muse.” Alpha picked up his favorite human easily, kissing his forehead.

   Sinclair was tense in their arms, squeezing his eyes shut. His jaw was clenched like it was wired shut, bloodlust permeating his every waking thought.

   Alpha set him gently into bed, and he immediately rolled over to scream into his pillow, his ink-stained hands holding the fabric taut in place. Alpha frowned, stroking Sinclair’s hair. 

   Alpha pulled him up by the scruff of his shirt, wrapping him in a blanket and pulling him into their lap.

   “Did.. did you fucking burrito me?” Sinclair asked, indignant.

   Alpha has a tinge of mischief to his smile as he nodded. “I’ve heard it works on feral kittens. Why not you?”

   The Author grumbled into the blanket, making Alpha laugh. He wasn’t really mad about it, he just liked the sound of Alpha’s amusement.

    It was at least helping enough to make him feel like he could breathe again. Sinclair leaned his head against Alpha’s shoulder as they pulled up their laptop onto the bed.

    “You don’t mind if I play Minecraft, do you?” Their voice was soft, and their machinery humming was hypnotic.

    “Go ahead… But… Blow something up for me.” Sinclair squirmed, getting comfortable.

    “Of course. Your vitals are stabilizing. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”

    Sinclair shook his head, sighing. “I’ll just have nightmares again.”

    “An all-nighter it is.” Alpha kissed Sinclair’s forehead once again, and set to work making a world to detonate for him.

[puppeteered-poetry]

how about vampire!Bim Trimmer?

hrm sexy idea yes

   “Cut! That’s a wrap, everyone!” 

   Bim dropped his smile, rubbing his cheeks as the Studio audience cleared out. The contestants were slowly filing out, but he had his mind set on one in particular.

   Tall, blond, lean muscles. He was perfect for Bim. Exactly his type. Bim sauntered up to him, grinning once again.

    “You did great today, Brett. Congratulations on the job.” He purred, leaning on the podium.

    “Thank you, Mr. Trimmer.” Brett smiled, his warm brown eyes glittering under the hot studio lights. 

    “What are you up to after this? I’d love to get a coffee with you, get to know you. Hear more about today’s big winner.”

    Brett frowned, turning the proposition over in his head. Sure, Bim was attractive, but Brett wanted to get home soon. Before he could answer, Bim continued.

    “It won’t be long, handsome. Just a few minutes, to one right down the street.”

    Brett waited a beat longer before nodding. “All right, if you insist.” 

    “Oh, I do. I really do.” Bim chuckled, locking arms with his catch.

    They took the backdoor out to avoid the crowd, heading towards the sidewalk after going around the studio building. Bim shivered at the cold wind hitting him, and Brett was kind enough to lend his jacket. Bim pulled it close around him, leaning against Brett’s warm, heavenly body.

    “Aren’t you just sweet enough to eat, Bretty? Brett-a filter?” Bim was beaming.

    Brett laughed, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s nothing really, Mr. Trimmer. I’d just hate for you to catch a cold. You’ve got more shows to film, I’m sure.”

    “My hero…” Bim sighed, rubbing his cheek against Brett’s shoulder. 

    “... Mr. Trimmer?” Brett asked, his voice quiet, wavering. “Why did we turn into this alleyway?”

    “Hm? Oh, a shortcut…” Bim chuckled. “Come on, you sound scared! What’s got you so worried?”

    “N-nothing, I just heard there’s been some guy killing people in the area… Don’t want you to get hurt.”

    Bim stopped his little morsel in place, smile just as big as ever, though his teeth weren’t… always this sharp… right?

    “I wouldn’t worry about me, pet… I’m eating good tonight.” Bim purred, licking his incisors.

    The last thing Brett saw was the flash of red from Bim’s eyes, as he plunged his fangs into his neck.

[puppeteered-poetry]

hi!! i read your mark/celci fic and it's so good!! if you're still taking requests, could you do one based on "it's like I'm seeing you in a completely new light" from the friends to lovers prompt list you reblogged? thanks in advance and i hope you have a good day!! ^w^

Hi, I love you. Absolutely you're so sweet. I hope you find something you lost ages ago.

     “CC!” Mark called, stomping loudly through the ship. 

     Celcionna looked up from the Cryo console, sighing. “I’m kind of in the middle of something, what?”

     Mark’s smile was reminiscent of a golden retriever’s, unfiltered joy radiating off him as he took Celci by the hand.

     “Mark-! Let go of me, are you insane?!” She yelped, stumbling to keep up as he dragged her off the ship. “Has this area even been cleared by Gunther? Anyone?”

    Mark stopped suddenly, causing Celci to nearly trip on the soft ground beneath her boots. She looked to Mark for an explanation, but was only met with him pointing at something. When she looked, she gasped, stunned by the sight.

    A tall, bubbling waterfall leading into a crystal clear pond lay before the pair, the mist causing a small rainbow around it. Strange fish in brilliant colors flitted through the water, as the fall roared with breathtaking majesty.

    Celcionna was stunned. She had never seen something like this before. When she looked to Mark to say something, she was caught off guard. He was shedding his jumpsuit and undershirt, quickly cannonballing into the water in just his boxers.

    “MARK! Did you even test that water?! What if those fish are venomous?!” She scolded loudly, struggling to hear herself over the water.

    “Relax, CC! We cleared it hours ago! Hop in, the water’s fine!” Mark beckoned for her with one hand, the other wiping his drenched hair out of his eyes.

    Celcionna watched him, biting her lip. She still had reservations, but… The last time she had gone swimming was ages ago. She must have been a teenager, then. She went behind a rock, and Mark’s face fell with the assumption she left.

    He treaded the water for a moment, debating on whether or not to go after her or stay in the water a while, when he was splashed from behind.

    He whipped around, confused. When he saw Celci behind him grinning mischievously, he couldn’t help but brighten up too.

    “Hell yeah!” Mark laughed, trying to splash her back before she ducked under the water again.

    The pair played in the water like children, messing around and laughing like idiots. They had stayed in the water until their fingers pruned, and sat on a nearby rock to draw in the planet’s sun equivalent. 

    Mark looked over at Celci, her shimmering blue bodysuit clinging to her muscular figure. She was beautiful, her smile even more so. 

    Celci noticed he was staring at her, her serene expression faltering. “... Something wrong?”

    “No! No… I just…” Mark hesitated, face hot. “It’s… It’s like I’m seeing you in a whole different light.”

    “What do you mean?” 

    Mark rubbed at his stubble, trying to pick his words correctly. “... You’ve been so stressed lately. I mean- You’ve been stressed since the day we met, but… I’ve never really seen you get to smile and be completely worry-free.”

    Celcionna’s smile had faded, unsure how to take this yet. Seeing how concerned she was, Mark rushed to reassure her.

    “It’s… Beautiful. I hope we get to see it more.” Mark adjusted his lounge to rely on one arm, his other brushing against her hand.

    Celci looked down at this touch, blushing. “If you really want to… I guess I can try.”

    “I’d really like that, CC.”

[puppeteered-poetry]

"I'd spoil you rotten if I had the chance."

That with Actor Mark x Reader? If you're not comfortable with x readers, maybe Darkstache instead?

X readers tend to be pretty case by case as I'm friends with a lot of introjects, yk? In this case though, it is a-okay <3

    When Mark gave you a call today, you had honestly expected another wild adventure. It seemed to be the normal fare for his invitations, at some point his opulent manor would fade away into the next scene he chose, a Heist, or a date, or a spaceship.

    But this time was different. He was waiting in the foyer for you, dressed in his red tuxedo. He normally reserved this for very special occasions. It immediately made you wonder what was going on.

    “Ah, Y/N! Why don’t you come sit down with me?” His smile was effortlessly charming, but you knew him well enough to see he was incredibly nervous. He was discreetly wiping his palms dry on his pants.

    You followed him into the dining room, where two places were set, lit by a centerpiece of candles, half melted and faintly coated in dust. He pulled out your chair for you, and you sat down, waiting for him to explain.

    “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, my darling…” He hummed, pouring you a glass of wine. “You remember our date, right?”

     You can’t help but laugh, remembering all the strange events that managed to happen. You’re pretty certain a part of you is still stuck behind with Darkiplier. When you nod, he lights up, sitting at his own place.

     “Oh, good, good… I remember I was a little… short with you, on set.” He cleared his throat, “But let me assure you, it wasn’t personal!”

    You listen to him hem and haw about his point, eating your spaghetti as he peers down at an index card he thought he was hiding under the table. You wonder if he cooked the dinner himself, or if the Chef was somewhere around, still.

    “M-my point is… I… I would do anything for you, Y/N. I would spoil you rotten, if I could… If you would take me, maybe… We could be more than just adventure buddies?” Mark’s heart was pounding in his ears, which surprised him. He was almost certain that thing stopped working years ago.

    You can’t help yourself. He’s put so much effort in, the candlelit dinner, the tux, his poorly concealed notecard… You can’t help but love him.

    You nod, and his grin is like the sunshine, his fangs gleaming. 

    “Oh, Y/N, you’ve made me the happiest I’ve felt in years…” He tries to lean over the table to kiss you, but has to settle for getting up, and planting a kiss on your cheek.

[puppeteered-poetry]

Can you write a sad little fanfic with Acter Mark x Darkiplier?

Sorry this took so long, yes you may.

    Hatred and Love are often thought as opposites, but for Dark and their foe, it was more akin to close relatives. 

    Perhaps it would seem odd to most, how they acted, but after a century straight of opposition it’s difficult not to have some developments.

    Dark gripped the ground with all their strength, chest heaving from the exertion. They were exhausted, their form unstable, flickering and distorting as Mark stood above them, smug.

    “Feel better? Got it out of your system?” The Actor cooed, the win making him nauseating.

    Dark tried to answer, to respond, get up, attack again. Anything. They opened their mouth, and black blood dribbled down their chin before they slumped over.

    “... Dark…” He sighed, slinging them over his shoulder. “You overdid it again.”

    Mark carried them inside the Manor, trying not to wince as their back made sounds of crunching glass. Up the stairs, and into Mark’s bedroom, he tucked them in.

    “... Why do you do this to yourself?” Mark asked under his breath as he slipped his shoes off, climbing in beside them.

    “Why do you?” They ask in return. “I only reflect you.”

    Mark sighed, pulling them closer, tucking their head beneath his chin. “You’re more than just a mirror, Damien.”

    Dark flickered again, phantoms of themself screaming with agonizing rage. It takes all of their will not to fracture further.

    “Don’t call me that.” They growl.

    “Shit- I’m sorry…” Mark winced, his heart dropping. 

    Damien was dead. Celine was dead. Mark saw to that.

    “... I’m… Sorry about a lot of things.” 

    “Are you genuinely apologizing, or self-flagellating until I console you?” 

    Mark laughed, petting Dark’s hair. It was a good question. He wished he knew the answer.

    “... Spending the night here?” Mark changed the subject. “I could make chocolate chip pancakes.”

    Dark coughed, glass chipping and going flying with the force. They clutched their chest, finally nodding.

    “Yeah… We’ll make a day of it, if you want.” He forced himself to smile, shame burning his cheeks. “We’ll watch garbage on TV.”

    “I have to work tomorrow.” 

    Mark nodded, immediately regretting asking. Dark owed him nothing. All the aching loneliness in his ribcage was his own damn fault.

    “... Dark…?” He finally spoke, trying to force the words out before he froze. “... I love you.”

    Dark was silent for what felt like an eternity. How were they supposed to respond to this? Heroes don’t love their villains. They weren’t sure they could love anyone.

    “... Good night, dearly Detested.” They whisper, rolling over.

    Dark tried to ignore how it felt to listen to Mark try to muffle his sobs.