#ALSO FUCK MACK!!!!!! MARK SUPREMACY

[nevadancitizen]

“apologies”

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

word count: 1.6k 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” Mark said. “I… I don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You knew what they were waiting for. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[seymour-butz-stuff]

But on Jan. 6 at the Capitol insurrection, he helped lead the charge inside—and is now finding out that it has serious consequences.

Nordean, along with two other Proud Boys (one of whom in fact wore an FAFO patch that day), was arrested this week and now faces multiple felony counts for his role in the Capitol siege. Charged with being “chief organizer of a mob of about 100 other members of the group that marched through Washington,” he is scheduled to make a court appearance in Seattle today.

So far, authorities have arrested eight Proud Boys for their roles in the insurrection, seven of them on federal charges for invading the Capitol building: national board member Joe Biggs, arrested Jan. 20; Dominic "Spaz" Pezzola of Rochester, New York, and William Pepe of Beacon, New York, both arrested Friday; Nick Ochs of Honolulu, founder of the Hawaii Proud Boys chapter, arrested Wednesday, along with Nicholas De Carlo of Burleson, Texas; Daniel Goodwyn of San Francisco, arrested Friday in Texas; and now Nordean. Proud Boy Jay Robert Thaxton of Concord, North Carolina, was also arrested near the Capitol on Jan. 6 for a curfew violation.

The Proud Boys’ key role in the invasion of the Capitol—particularly in breaking past police barriers and overwhelming security—was observed and reported on first by Vice News’ Tess Owen and Mack Lamoreaux, who noted that Pezzola wore a FAFO patch during the insurrection. Pezzola was also the person who first created an opening into the building by smashing a window with a police shield.

The Wall Street Journal’s video team later compiled an overview of the Proud Boys’ key role in the attack on the Capitol. Biggs and Nordean figure prominently in the video, coordinating the planned assault and advising others not to announce their plans out loud.

You can also see Nordean and Pezzola leading the charge that led to the breach of the Capitol. Photos show that Nordean, Biggs, Pezzola, Ochs, Pepe, and Goodwyn made it inside the building.

Nordean has been a key figure in the Proud Boys for some time. A resident of Auburn, a Seattle suburb, he appears to make a living selling vitamin supplements. He was also disavowed by his father, a Des Moines chowder-house owner, for his participation in the Proud Boys.

Nordean’s family issued a statement Wednesday: “We have tried for a long while to get our son off the path which led to his arrest today—to no avail. Ethan will be held accountable for his actions.”

Mostly, he has been a fixture at Proud Boys and Patriot Prayer events in Portland and Seattle, where he is known by his nickname, “Rufio Panman.” He's particularly noteworthy for the extraordinary levels of thuggish violence he brings to these events. He's frequently been in the company of white nationalists, such as Jake Van Ott of Identity Evropa and “Germany” of the Portland-based “Stormers.”

Nordean became a celebrity in national far-right circles for his actions at the June 30, 2018, Patriot Prayer/Proud Boys march in Portland. The moment that made him infamous came when he decked an antifascist and appeared to knock him out cold. The punch was caught on video, which then went wildly viral. Gavin McInnes replayed it on a loop for his audience, and Proud Boys shared it widely as a GIF.

McInnes, in fact, considered the moment definitive in shaping the violent identity of the Proud Boys: “I honestly think that that knockout is a pivot in the movement, it marks the beginning of the end of antifa, and the beginning of being safe and proud to be Trump.”

Nordean was arrested by Portland Police that day and then released a short while later with no charges. The next week, he was named “Proud Boy of the Week” on the group’s Facebook pages and made an appearance on Alex Jones’ InfoWars broadcast, which he used to recruit new members.

As Owens and Lamoreaux observe, much of the Proud Boys’ preparations for Jan. 6 occurred out in public. It included a promotional video featuring Loza Alexander, a Proud Boy-affiliated rapper who wears a red MAGA ballcap and is heavily armed, performing a song titled “F.A.F.O.”

“Fuck Black Lives Matter and antifa, I’m a proud Boy,” rapped Alexander, performing before a large Proud Boys sign. “This ain’t about the clout boy—pop a commie in his house, boy.”

Nordean posted the video on social media two days before the insurrection. He captioned it: “Let them remember the day they decided to make war with us.”

The Justice Department also noted in its press release and in the indictment:

On or about the same day, Nordean posted a video of a discussion that Nordean had with another member of the Proud Boys. During the course of the hour long video, Nordean discussed what he described as “blatant, rampant voter fraud” in the Presidential election. Nordean went on to say that, rather than being complacent, the Proud Boys were going to “bring back that original spirit of 1776 of what really established the character of what America is. And it’s not complacency, it’s not low standards. It’s ‘this is how it’s going to be, and I don’t give a god damn.’” Later in the video, Nordean said, “Democracy is dead? Well, then no peace for you. No democracy, no peace.”

Nordean made menacing remarks on social media right up to the day before the Capitol siege and was clear that he had no sympathy for law-enforcement officers at the scene. “It is apparent now more than ever, that if you are a patriot, you will be targeted and they will come after you, funny thing is that they don’t realize is, is we are coming for them,” he wrote on Parler. “You’ve chosen your side, black and yellow teamed with red, white and blue against everyone else.”

Wednesday was a rough day all around for the Proud Boys. Canada officially designated them a “terrorist organization,” part of a crackdown on far-right extremists. It also listed the neo-Nazi group Atomwaffen Division, which was the target of an FBI crackdown last year, and the Russian Imperial Movement, which has been linked to efforts to export far-right white nationalism.

“These groups are unfortunately active in Canada and around the world,” Canadian Public Safety Minister Bill Blair said. “Their violent actions and rhetoric are fueled by white supremacy, anti-Semitism, racism, homophobia, Islamophobia and misogyny.”