#mark x celci

[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.

[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

[infinite-infinite-stars]

A Kelvinium comic for the end of Pride Month (with bonus Captaineer)

[gaymingwriter]

Masterlist and Requests

Requests temporarily closed!

Some of this will change, so please check before requesting!

Will write x reader for:

Markiplier Egos/Lore:

Darkiplier

Damien

Wilford Warfstache

Yancy

Illinois

Eric Derekson

Googleplier

Bing

Dr. Iplier

Actor Mark (this includes ADWM and AHWM Mark unless specifically requested for them to be different people)

Engineer Mark

Celci F. Kelvina

Mack (Engineer, Crewmate, Dictator)

Celine

Possibly more in the future

Septic Egos:

Jameson Jackson

Chase Brody

Antisepticeye (both original and current)

Marvin the Magnificent

Henrik

Other:

North Star/Starlo (Undertale Yellow)

Will write ships for:

Markiplier (several, ask for specifics)

I write SFW only

Tags:

#masterlist - My masterlists. This is the only one I have right now

#gaymingwriter - My writing

#rivvy rambles - Me just talking; non writing

Masterlist

Some can’t fit here and are linked in a separate list

* = On my main account before I moved writing here

X Reader:

Eric x Kind!Captain*

Mack x Captain With Plushies (Headcanons)*

Mack x Captain (Sign Language)*

[breadyeetking]

Dude new headcanon that is so heartwarming to me. I love the idea captain has friend ship bracelets with there head crew (Mark,Mack,Gunther,Celci, and Burt) all have there name.

I can see mark being like a happy puppy when captain gave him his. Like thanks you 100xs and gives you a hug (if you like hugs of course)

Mack probably acted like he didn’t care and said he was going to throw it away. It currently lives in his pant pocket or one on his shirt.

Gunther would act all chill like “thanks captain” he definitely wears it but it breaks a lot and he tries to fix it on his own. But if he can’t fix it he will go to you (the captain) and ask you to fix it.

Celci would be shocked but would happily accept it. She definitely wears it but make sure it won’t get damaged at all. She definitely looks at it if she feels upset. Brings her comfort.

Burt was the calm one. He definitely loves it like everyone else and it makes him feel appreciated. He definitely thanks you in a weird poetry way like he always dose.

All in all I think they would love them no matter what and treasure it.

[clemblog]

Clem’s Markiplier Oneshots

•••

Mack wants his partner, Y/N, to take a break. Mack always gets his way.

——

[sharonaparadox]

[Image: uncolored fanart of Celci from the YouTube series “In Space with Markiplier” facing the viewer but looking through the corner of her eye back over her shoulder as she blushes and frowns sadly, a thought bubble above her reading, “asshat.” In the background are two figures behind the control panel looking out the window into space. One is recognizable as the head engineer, while the dark featureless figure next to Mark represents the captain. End description.]

they like a boy, and i’m not a boy

inspired from this post <3

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

Restless, Respite

my take on the final scene of the Hold On ending | Head Engineer Mark x The Captain (can be read as platonic) | Words: 1,232 | read on AO3

basically I was thinking far too much about how we are presumably the last to wake up that final time (besides the colonists) and how it seems like the crew has been up for a while and how engineer Mark might be feeling about that (not good)

The Head Engineer tapped his fingertips anxiously on the rim of his coffee mug.

The Captain hadn't woken up yet.

It had been a good half hour of the Invincible II’s various personnel filling the bridge and every other area of the ship. The crew leads conferred with each other and their respective teams to ensure everything was fully functional and ready to move on to the next phase of the mission. The entire crew was bustling, eager to set foot on their new home, the promise of a new life awaiting them.

Still, the Captain did not stir.

Despite assurance from the computer AI that all systems were nominal, Mark had checked every major system personally, and with a little more caution than usual. If anyone noticed the slight lack in his typical blasé confidence, they didn’t mention it.

They'd had time to run diagnostics, prepare equipment and shuttles to take down to the surface, and all have their “morning” coffee. All except The Captain and Mark.

With a quiet sigh, he pressed a few icons on his tablet, issuing a command to the system to reheat their drink for the fifth time. They'd wake up any minute now, for sure.

Celci let him know that all one hundred thousand colonists were doing well, and seemed a little surprised when his response didn't hold quite the same bite as most of their interactions. (She also insisted that there was nothing wrong with the Captain’s pod, and people wake up at different speeds.) Burt assured him that the reactor was stable and had fared well with the journey, followed by Gunther enthusiastically reporting that the advance team was ready to head down to the planet's surface to scout ahead.

For once, there was no emergency. It was almost too good to be true. There was really no need to wake the Captain prematurely. If they needed a few more minutes after all they'd been through, that was fine.

And yet, Mark couldn't help the growing pit of dread in his stomach.

The details were a little fuzzy, but with every passing minute his memories of the wormhole and the ensuing chaos became clearer, more solid — the freshest of which being a pained exchange with his Captain, his dearest friend, in the warp core room, as the weight of the multiverse fell heavy on his shoulders with realisation and the subsequent guilt and remorse, the walls of reality literally beginning to crumble around them.

Remembering it all was like waking from a dream in reverse; images of each universe and lifetime stung in the tight grip of his psyche instead of slipping from recollection. His mind began to race, panicking slightly as he remembered times his Captain hadn't woken up at all.

Mark took a small sip of coffee. He felt a headache coming on.

As if on cue, he felt a gentle bump against his leg. He cast his gaze towards it and was happy to see Chica softly nudging him, panting cheerfully with her big eyes aglow.

‘Hey, bub.’

He smiled and bent to pet her soft fur with his free hand, grateful for a comforting distraction from his wandering thoughts.

‘Yeah, any moment now,’ he muttered under his breath as he went to retrieve the Captain’s coffee mug while Chica trotted away.

‘Initialising Wakey-Wakey Protocol.’

Mark’s head shot up at the sound of the AI voice announcing their emergence from cryo-sleep. Relief flooded him as he saw them slowly step out of their pod, tentatively poking a crew member as if wanting to make sure this was real. He understood the feeling.

‘Mornin’, Captain!’ Mark beamed as he strode over to greet them. He eyed the Captain up and down with concern. They looked about as exhausted and on edge as he’d felt upon waking up this time.

‘Ooh, you look like you’ve been through hell. Yeah, cryo-sleep sucks, but coffee can help.’ He offered them their mug which they took automatically. With a friendly clunk of his own cup against theirs, he made his way around the main console to talk with various crew members while the crew leads took turns speaking to the Captain.

‘Computer, let’s get those blast shields open.’

The head engineer let out an awed sigh at the view. ‘The trip was smooth. Just a few rocks, couple cosmic rays, nothing the computer couldn’t handle on its own,’ he reassured, hoping to ease their obvious trepidation. To his relief, they seemed to relax immensely at the sight of the planet before them. He watched as they reached out a gloved hand and pressed gently against the glass (memories of said glass shattering flashed across his mind, which he quickly dismissed).

A whole array of emotions crossed his Captain’s face as they admired the planet that would soon house the new colony. He could almost swear that he saw the tell-tale glisten of tears forming in their eyes. Eyes that were now wise and weary beyond their years. Eyes that had seen countless people die and the very fabric of time and space glitch and collapse and attempt to put itself together again. Eyes that could pierce right through his and pull him apart at the seams with a single look.

‘She is a beauty, isn’t she, Captain? The long range scans did not do her justice. Perfect in almost every way. We’ll still have to do top to bottom scans once we’re down on the surface but we’re moving equipment as fast we can. The crew is eager to get off the ship and onto solid ground. I think you can understand the sentiment.’

They watched as the shuttles disembarked from the main ship and made their way towards the planet. The Captain looked pleased to see progress already being made.

Mark hesitated for a moment. There was so much he wanted to say. To ask. Lifetimes worth of emotions lay pent up inside of him, itching at the walls of his throat and the tip of his tongue. But the guilt still bore down on him, and the fear of truly acknowledging and dwelling on all that had transpired between the two far outweighed the desire to talk and have it all laid out in the open where it couldn’t gnaw at his insides. No doubt his Captain would probably want to discuss it all eventually. Maybe they hated him right now and were just trying to hide it. Hell, he’d deserve it if they did. But he couldn’t have that conversation here and now. Not with the whole crew present and the colony to build. Not with so many people looking to both of them for direction and guidance. Maybe that was an excuse.

Instead: ‘And, uh, thank you…’ he uttered simply, voice low and earnest, as he felt their gaze turn towards him before finally bringing himself to meet their eyes, if only briefly.

‘...for, uh, not giving up on me. Just… thank you.’

The Captain gave him a sincere smile and he returned it with a nod. He wasn't sure he remembered the last time he saw them smile like that.

They brought the coffee mug up to their lips. It was one he’d reserved especially for them, bearing a clear message in bold text: ‘#1 Captain’.

As they finally took a sip, Mark hoped they understood that he meant it.

[elenavr13]

Messy Room

Engineer Mark x Captain

Warning: None

*Post-ISWM*

*After a long day, the captain is able to take a break only to get a notification from Mark that Celci & Mack are arguing. Also Mark gets flustered easily.*

 ---------------

           Finally, after a long day’s work, I can rest. I lift my gloved hand & place it on the scanner. The door slides open revealing my quarters, well, technically mine & Mark’s quarters. Ever since it was built, Mark kind of just made himself at home. At that time, it made sense since his own place hadn’t been built yet but once it was completed, he still didn’t move out & instead offered it to another crew member. I didn’t mind though. I enjoy his company & frankly, I prefer him invading my space than being left alone with my own thoughts, especially my nightmares. They happen frequently even after two years. Mark has them too. Every night, we fall asleep together & if one of us wakes up in a panic, the other is right there to calm them. That is probably a big reason as to why Mark has no interest in moving to his own housing.

           I enter my room without turning on any lights. I find the dark to be comforting. It is a nice contrast from the blue & white, swirling light I had seen for an eternity. Unzipping my uniform, I decide to change into something more comfortable. After throwing my previous attire into the laundry basket, I rummage through a pile of clothes to find a shirt & pants. I was never one to be super carefree with my clothes & let them pile up in my room but Mark is. Since a decent amount of his stuff scattered the floor on his side of the room, I got into a bad habit of leaving my things accumulate like he does.

           Once dressed comfortably, I lay down on the bed, facing the ceiling. I feel myself drifting off when I hear an alert from my tablet. The light momentarily blinds me but my eyes adjust quickly. There is a message from Mark: “Can you come to the bio center? Celci & Mack are arguing again & I’d like to keep my head.” It doesn’t seem to matter who it is, those two just can’t stop picking a fight with someone. Well, so much for a break.

           I reply to Mark’s text. “On my way, anything I should know before I get there?”

           “They’re arguing over whether or not some of the newly discovered flora is dangerous or not.”

“Mack’s not even a botanist.” *Once all colonists woke up from cryosleep, CC turned to botany.*

           “I know but you know how he is.”

           “Yeah, I’ll be there shortly.”

           The walk to the bio center is too short to prepare myself for the arguing I am about to encounter. Nonetheless, I enter upon arrival.

           “You don’t tell me what to do!” Celci’s voice echoes through the room. This is going to go really well.

           Mark attempts to calm the two. “Please, this isn’t getting anywhere.”

           “Shut up. You’re not even involved in this.”

           “He probably knows more than you.” Mack sneers.

           “Don’t you dare compare me to him.”Celci points a critical finger at Mark. Disappointed in the futile arguing & insults, I clear my throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “Captain, this asshole is trying to tell me how to do my job.”

           “Dr. Kelvina, that is not how you address your fellow crew members.” I condemn her, making Mack laugh because it was towards her not him.

           “You can hardly call him that…” She mumbles under her breath.

           “& you” I direct my words to Mack. “have no authority to order Celci around. You can discuss your concerns with her amicably or you can keep them to yourself. She specializes in botany & last I checked you don’t.”

           “Pssh, yeah whatever,” He pushes me off. Neither of them apologizes to each other but neither of them continues fighting. I guess I fixed the problem.

           Mark poking my arm draws my attention to him. “Thanks for talking some sense into those two.”

           “It’s not a problem.” I comment, noticing the slightly pink hue to his cheeks. “What?”

In a hushed voice so the others don’t hear, he says, “Are you purposefully wearing my shirt.” I glance down to the shirt I am wearing to see that it is in fact not one of mine. Heat rises to my cheeks. How did I make it this long & only just now realize I wasn’t wearing my own shirt? I mean it’s Mark so it’s not that big of a deal but at the same time, it’s Mark.

           “Sorry, I didn’t realize.”

           “How do you not realize you’re wearing my shirt?” He teases.

           “It was dark when I put it on. Either way, I got it from one of my piles which means that your side is bleeding into mine.” I playfully punch him in the shoulder as I defend my case.

           “Hey, you didn’t use to leave all your stuff lying around.”

           “Where do you think I picked it up from? At least I clean my side occasionally.”

           “You’re accusing me of influencing you to become more careless with your clothes?”

           “You’re the one who moved in with me.”

           “You didn’t complain. In fact, you initiated it.”

           “I initiated it?”

           “Yes, you did. You were the one who suggested I stay with you. It’s your fault.” As soon as the last three words left his mouth, both of us flinch. Even though it was in a playful tone, that phrase still triggers undesirable memories. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

           “It’s alri…” I attempt to comfort him because I know it affects him more than me but I am interrupted.

           “Ugh, No one cares about your ‘romantic life’. It’s unprofessional & inappropriate.” Mack declares before promptly leaving.

“It is official, Mark & the Captain are a thing.” CC concludes all detective-like. “Neither of you can deny it anymore since you’re living together. Seriously though, Captain, him? You’re one of my best friends & a fantastic captain but god, you have horrible taste in men.” She has a sly smile on her face. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell another soul.” She gestures zipping her mouth shut before elbowing my arm & leaving.

“& now the whole colony knows.” I sigh.

Mark finally manages to form words again. “She’s going to tell everyone isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she is.”

“Do you think we could really be a thing, you know, more than just friends?” God, why does he have to be so cute & dorky? I don’t care what CC says or anyone else for that matter; Mark is extremely attractive & precious.

           A chuckle leaves my lips. “I think we’ve been more than friends for a long time now, probably since you first kissed me.” I poke him in the chest. A mischievous glint shimmers in his eye.

           “& you only feel free to tell me that now?”

           “I thought you already knew, you big doofus.” I ruffle his hair. He then leans his head against my hand like a dog would while petting them. “Alright, Chica, let’s go.”

           “Chica’s not here.”

           “I’m looking right at her.”

           “I’m not Chica.”

           “You sure? You act like her: always needs attention, loves pets, cute, distracted eas…ily.” Suddenly Mark wraps his arms around my stomach & trapped me in a hug from behind.

           “You think I’m cute?”

           Instead of answering, I just continue with my list. “Clingy, grumpy when teased…”

           “Alright, I get it.” We both laugh. In a quieter, slightly deeper register of his voice, he continues. “You should really wear more of my shirts. You look good in this one.”

           As I lean my head back so I can see his face, his stubble lightly scratches my cheek. “I’ll only wear the ones you put away.”

           “Was this your whole plan to get me to clean my side of the room?”

           “No but I’m going to say yes so it sounds intentional.” His chest vibrates from his laughter.

“Fine, I’ll clean up my side. You could have just asked me though.” His lips briefly hold contact with my temple.

           “It wouldn’t have nearly been as fun.” He scoffs at my comment making my smile grow wider.

[mothgodofchaos]

hey! got a request for engineer mark x reader (male preferred but gn is also alright!) cuddles with reader as the big spoon:)) maybe a lot of praise/comfort for mark and a lot of teasing with pet names? or mark could just be asleep and reader is just soft>< whatever youd like!

Morning

Ah yes, he's very cuddly, as you should know.

Engineer x GN!Reader, TW: none Words: 392

Marcus was always a restless sleeper, until the two of you started sharing a bed. After the events of the wormholes, the nightmares got too much for him to handle, and he kept knocking on your door in the middle of the night to see if you were okay. He’d fall asleep on your floor as you calmed him down, and eventually convinced him it’s okay to sleep on your bunk with you. It took a bit, but the engineer that once regularly fell off of his bunk held onto you tightly through the night, ensuring that you were still there.

As the captain, you were oftentimes awake before the rest of the crew, getting ready for the day and the morning briefing. But with your new sleeping arrangements, it certainly makes things a little cuter, but also a little more difficult. He built you a bedside coffee machine so you could enjoy your morning coffee if he traps you on the bed, as he would never willingly deprive you of your morning nectar. But you began to enjoy your mornings, realizing you really didn’t need to get up as early as you originally did. Your internal clock hasn’t gotten the memo yet, but it’s those morning cuddles that you look forward to every day as your coffee brews. 

His head is rested against your chest as you comb your fingers through his hair, certainly longer and fluffier than it was in comparison to when you first began your journey. He tried to cut it and you just about pulled the clippers out of his hand, ruffling his hair and telling him how much you enjoyed it, that it looked better on him longer. So he’s been growing it out, and your statement still holds true.

He sleeps in one of his sleeveless turtlenecks, black ones for nighttime wear, and sweatshorts, which Celci considers an abomination against god. An improper commitment to both shorts, and sweatpants. He considers it the best of both worlds, and you secretly agree, as to not show more favor than you probably already do. He makes the softest of snores, still gently leaning into your hand as you give him slow head scritches. 

You know you’ll be stuck here for another bit, but if it weren’t for those nightmares, you’d be enjoying your mornings a lot less.

[iolite-moodboards]

hi hi hi, your moodboards literally look so edible and i especially loved your engie mark one so i was wondering if you could make a cutesy lovecoreish one for mack? if not, maybe a melci (mark x celci) one? pretty please? thank you! <3

cute, lovecore mack board for anon

Thank you!! I'm glad you liked them! hopefully this one doesn't disappoint

[lostcybertronian]

"you're not alone I'm staying right here" captain X engineer

Egotober - Day 27

Prompt: "You're not alone. I'm right here." / Orange

---

The brilliant lights of the planet’s twin suns flooded the cupola with orange-yellow light, forcing you to shield your eyes as you floated up into the capsule, brushing your hand against the thick, clear glass that domed the space, providing a three-sixty degree view for crewmates and colonists should they find a free moment to steal away.

You thought you’d find Mark here, and you were right; he floated upside down in the cupola, gaze fixed determinedly on the planet below. 

“Oh, hey Captain,” he said absentmindedly, without looking at you even as you came to float next to him. 

You worked yourself into an upside down position like him, noting that it was a better perspective. Or, at least, a more fun one. “I was looking for you,” you said. “This is the last place I had left to check.”

Mark grunted. “I like to come up here when I need to think. I did this a lot when-” he faltered- “when I was alone.” He paused. “Sometimes I feel like I’m still alone.”

You put a hand on his shoulder, careful to be gentle in the no-grav environment. You had no idea what must be going through his head, and you said so. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like. How horrible it must have been to be by yourself for so long. But-” you forged on when he glanced at you, mouth opening to interject- “You’re not alone anymore. I’m right here. Gunther is here, and Bert, and Celci. You won’t ever be alone again. We won’t let you be alone.”

You tried to keep your voice firm. Tried to keep it from shaking too much. Tried to sound like you meant it, because you did; you meant what you said with every bone in your body.

Mark must have understood that, because he smiled and reached for your hand. You let him, and together you both turned your sights back to the planet you would soon call home.

[zomb-writes]

Welcome to my lil writing blog.

I'm a teenage writer who's a lil bit of a nerd. Call me zombz or bud. I use he/him it/its pronouns.

Rules

╔════════════════════╗

Please do not request anything with pregnancy, parent/family fics are ok tho.

No nsfw.

I won't do serious subjects like s/h or anything like that.

I will not do oc x character, this for readers x character.

Please do not rush me.

I will do headcanons, imagines, fics.

╚════════════════════╝

Fandoms

Owl house. (lillith(Platonic only) eda, raine, luz, king(platonic only) hunter, amity(female reader or non binary reader only if you want it romantic.) Willow.

Egos. wilford, darkiplier, Illinois, damien, engineer, (other characters from marks stuff? Celci and that stuff) anti, chase.(and more just ask)

Overwatch. dva, tracer(only romantic if female or non binary writer) mercy, sonbra, genji, Cassidy, ashe.

Monster high(new and old just tell me which.)

And alot more just ask.

[floofle-universe]

How to talk to short people

[wine-red-ice]

I also made this! I got a little shy about posting it, though ^^'

[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.