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#ahwm endings
braisedhoney · 2 years
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Part 1 (You are here!) - Part 2
Long time no see, eh old pal? 
Brushes: 
- Jingsketch Sketch Render
- Random watercolor brush
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amee-racle-ofmyown · 2 months
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I AM GOING TO POST THE HEIST DUO BEING SOFT AND DOMESTIC AND NO ONE CAN STOP ME‼️
bye I reached the tag limit💀
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falseroar · 2 months
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Murder on the Warfstache Express
Part 1: All Aboard, Full Steam Ahead
((So. That train story, right? Okay, but this is something I've been playing with the idea of writing ever since Wilford dropped that Murder on the Orient Express reference back in Wilford Motherlovin' Warfstache, and it really helped when AHWM and ISWM dropped and introduced us all to a wide cast of characters who don't all happen to look like Mark. Which is partially why this is a much different story than it would have been before ISWM. There's going to be a lot of familiar faces, some of them very out of place here, along with a couple of folks only referenced by name or as jokes. Also a murder, can't forget about that. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!))
Abe had never been a fan of confined spaces. Something about being caught with his back against the wall in one tight corner after another made it only natural to be on edge whenever he found himself confronted with a small room with only one way in or out.
A room very much like this train compartment he’d already lost track of time in, between the muted colors of the shoebox-like space that offered a seat just long enough to stretch out on and a window looking out at the unchanging landscape whiplashing by too quickly to really focus on anything in particular, and not much of anything else in the way of entertainment or stimulation. Abe had the riveting options of staring out at snow-covered hills and snow-covered trees and a dreary gray sky that promised, yes, even more snow that no one had asked for, or up at the jostling luggage rack overhead while he thought about the usual things.
Things like why the hell he was on this train in the first place.
He gave up on that pretty quickly and jumped up again, pacing the narrow space before deciding he really needed to stretch his legs. Besides, it couldn’t hurt to get a better idea of the layout of the train.
Just in case.
If he had noticed the conversation going on in low voices outside of his door, Abe would have stopped and held his ear to the door in the hope of hearing some of it. After all, he was a detective, which made eavesdropping practically his moral duty. That, and he was nosy as hell and bored to go with it.
If he had known a little more about the pair standing out in the hallway at the time, he would have loved nothing more than to have a regular door with which he could have “accidentally” hit one or both with as a possible alternative for some quick amusement.
Both options were only apparent in hindsight though, because in the moment Abe just turned toward the sliding door and opened it abruptly, startling the two men on the other side so badly they both jumped away from the opened door like it was a ticking timebomb.
One, the man with slicked-back black hair dressed in a suit that felt expensive to even look at, recovered first and gave Abe a withering look before remarking aloud as though addressing the air in general, “So much for this being luxury travel. It looks like they’ll let any low class, ill-mannered lout buy a ticket these days.”
Abe bristled, any apology he might have had instantly dying in response to that stuck-up, drawling voice. “And I thought you’d have something intelligent to say when you opened that pretty mouth of yours, so I guess we’ll all have to get used to being disappointed today.”
The rich man drew himself up, visibly swelling with indignation, but the other man cleared his throat and subtly moved between the two as he said, “Perhaps we could continue this conversation somewhere a little more private, sir?”
“Somewhere more private than the middle of the hall?” Abe asked. “Wow, wonder where you could find something like that around here.”
Choosing to ignore that comment, the second man slid open the door opposite Abe’s and stepped aside for the rich man with an, “After you, sir.”
The rich guy gave Abe one last sneer before going into the other compartment, which from the glimpse Abe got looked to be far more elegant and spacious than his own. The lackey added a disapproving stare of his own in Abe’s direction before sliding the door shut again with a sharp rap and promptly lowering the shade on the other side of the door’s round window.
Well, Abe could tell he was already off to a great start getting to know his fellow passengers. Although if the rest were anything like those two, he’d be better off staying in his own room for the rest of the trip.
A not very tempting thought, so instead Abe stepped out into the hallway and slid the door shut behind him, taking a moment to look both ways.
More rooms to either side, the doors slightly offset from their opposite so that any uncovered windows just looked out into the hallway and not directly into their neighbor’s room. To his right past a few more compartments was the door he used to step onto the train, and beyond that he’d caught a glimpse of the luggage car being filled by the station porters. Past the luggage car there was only the train’s engine, so nothing to see that way.
He turned left and paused not three steps away from his door, head unconsciously tilting while his brow furrowed in concentration. Over the rhythmic sound of the train’s wheels turning and the distant huff of the engine, Abe thought he heard something else.
Music?
It was faint at first, but the longer he listened the louder it seemed to get until the noise of the train died away, until the beat roared in his ears and drummed in his chest, the sound so tangible he was surprised the next door along and seeming source of the music wasn’t shaking in its casing. It was as much a mystery as why there was no complaint from the rich man next door, who had to be able to hear that noise through the connecting wall between the two rooms.
Abe slowed, staring at the covered window of the door like he could see through it if he tried hard enough. That thumping, upbeat music was familiar, familiar in a way that itched at the back of his mind and made his trigger finger twitch. Where had he heard this before?
Before he could make the connection, Abe heard the rattle of another door opening and quickly turned away from the offending door, eager not to be spotted staring into someone else’s room. A maneuver that put him directly in the path of the man stepping out of the room opposite, the two colliding so hard that the twin batches of swearing temporarily drowned out both the music and the train.
“…Sorry about that,” the new man muttered after a moment, rubbing his own shoulder. Fedora, oversized trench coat worn over a suit that looked a little too new, and a piercing stare that returned Abe’s once over with one of its own. If Abe wasn’t already suspicious enough, he’d felt something during that collision and was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the stranger being happy to see him.
There were only so many people who’d travel with a hidden weapon close to hand, after all.
A number that should have included Abe, except he had been forced to turn over his gun before boarding the train with the assurance that it would stay in a weapon safe during the duration of the trip. Flashing his badge hadn’t helped, the conductor no doubt calling his bluff because they were leaving his jurisdiction—or was it that they weren’t in it at the time?
Point was, if this guy had a gun on him, that meant he either found a way to sneak it onboard or he had the kind of authority to get a pass from the conductor.
All of this passed through Abe’s mind rapidly, but not fast enough that there weren’t several seconds of awkward silence before he asked, “In a hurry to get somewhere?”
“…No,” the other man said, proving he wasn’t much of a liar, at least. He stepped back into the still open doorway behind him and gestured for Abe to move on. “Please, you first. I’m sure your companion will be wondering where you’re at.”
Companion? Where’d he get that idea?
“No, I’m traveling alone. Same as you, I’m guessing?”
“Yes?” His eyes went past Abe to the room he’d just left, brow furrowing in confusion before he made a visible effort to relax it. “I mean, yes, it’s just me for now. Traveling for work.”
“Work? What kind of work is that?” Abe asked, trying to appear open and only as curious as a fellow traveler might be even as he glanced at the room behind the man, the quick glance enough to tell him that it was much smaller than his own (a fact he didn’t think possible until now), with no sign of any convenient personal belongings left out and about to give a hint as to their owner.
The man paused, clearly not having prepared for follow up questions, and finally said, “Oh, boring stuff. Like 99% of it’s just, you know, paperwork to make the home office happy. What about you, where are you headed?”
The question came quickly, Abe thinking less because the guy was interested and more because he didn’t want to leave an opening to ask what the other 1 percent was supposed to be.
“Oh just…to the next stop, same as everyone else on here I guess.”
The awkward silence lasted much longer this time, both men struggling to come up with any more small talk without the risk of having to answer their own questions. Abe broke it first with a clearing of his throat and said, “I, uh, was just going to get some fresh air. See you around, uh…”
“Apless,” the man answered immediately, showing the barest hint of a wince around the eyes before he continued, “Harold Apless.”
“My name’s Abe,” Abe answered, distracted by the realization that the previously overwhelming music seemed to have stopped at some point without his noticing it. “Nice to meet you, Happy.”
“My name’s not—”
The protest gave way to a defeated sigh behind Abe as he pulled open the car’s door and stopped in the small space between cars where the shaking and jolting was worse than ever. The enclosed space wasn’t made for people to stay here long, with doors to either side for boarding when the train wasn’t in motion providing enough gaps for the freezing cold outside to seep in. As different from that crowded room, too packed with dancers to even breathe, as he could get.
Dancers?
Abe winced and rubbed his eyes, dispelling that memory as quickly as he could. That’s why he was here, right? To get some distance between himself and…all of that.
Abe took a deep breath and exhaled, fogging up the glass of the nearby window, the welcome chill still enough to make him glad he hadn’t taken off his black leather jacket, and continued on through the next door and into what proved to be the lounge car.
Wooden paneling and low, flickering lamps set in intervals along the walls gave the lounge a warm, comfortable air, helped by plush armchairs seated in rows to either side around the windows and small, round tables. A thick, elegant carpet ran the length of the car and muffled the noise of the wheels underneath to the point it felt too quiet when Abe entered, not helped by how few people were seated or talking around the room.
A small bar area at the opposite end gave Abe something to aim for as he walked the length of the car, checking faces and counting heads out of habit.
Not that there were many to keep track of.
There was a woman dressed in bright, flamboyant colors underneath a white jacket, a bandana holding her long, wavy hair out of the way as she studied the mass of papers and books covering every inch of the table in front of her. From what he saw as he passed by, said papers and books all looked like a bunch of plans and equations so dense that his brain refused to take any of it in out of self-defense.
She on the other hand was so utterly focused that her lips moved along with thoughts that she couldn’t seem to keep contained within herself, occasionally sparing a hand from the coffee cup she held in front of her for lack of anywhere else to put it to push her glasses back in place or retrieve the pencil behind her ear to make another note in the same handwriting that littered all of the papers. For her, Abe and the rest of the train may as well not have existed for all it mattered in the moment.
The other two passengers he passed next did notice him, but were so engrossed in their conversation over a game of chess that the older woman wearing a black burnoose and dress littered with silver stars and matching jewelry could only spare him a friendly smile. Across from her, a man dressed in khaki with a brown leather jacket not all that dissimilar to the one Abe was wearing tilted the brim of his brown hat in the detective’s direction without looking away from the board, his hand still resting on the knight as he considered the consequences of his move.
“Well, you can tell me more about the monkeys or avoid losing your rook, but I’m afraid you can’t do both, dear.”
“Funnily enough, I’m pretty sure one of those monkeys stole my traveling chess set. That or my assistant on that little adventure still had it on him when we realized the simians weren’t quite ready to give up their piece of the map.”
“A real shame, that,” the woman said, shaking her head. “To shreds, you say?”
Abe had several questions, but he kept walking toward the bar with the confidence that a good drink would be less likely to leave him with regret in the long run.
 Or it would have, if he hadn’t reached the bar just as the bartender stopped what he was doing and looked up, his customer service smile disappearing with a flash of recognition.
He’d recognize that handsome face and look of distress and horror anywhere, especially since aside from the emblem of the train company on his lapel and a splash of dark red on his tie and handkerchief, his outfit really wasn’t all that different from the getup he wore back when he was Mark’s butler.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Abe asked and Benjamin shushed him with a glance at the other passengers.
“Language!” Benjamin hissed, his own voice lowered to just above a whisper. “Please do not disturb the other passengers.”
“That doesn’t answer my question, pal,” Abe said, obliging him with a low growl.
“I am not your pal,” Benjamin said, straightening his already ridiculously broad shoulders and trying to look prim and proper like Abe hadn’t seen him threaten a man with a feather duster once. “And I should think it’s rather obvious that I am working here. Would you like something to drink?”
“I think you and me already know the answer to that one,” Abe said, and Benjamin rolled his eyes before reaching under the bar for the strong stuff. “Now you’re talking.”
Abe sidled onto one of the stools, turned so that he could keep an eye on the butler turned bartender and the rest of the carriage.
“I had to make my way somehow after my last employer…” Benjamin paused, lip trembling, and with an effort he shook himself and poured Abe a healthy dose in a glass before pulling a second glass for himself. Pushing the glass toward Abe, he asked, “What brings you here, detective?”
Abe took the drink and took a long sip before setting it down with a sigh, because it was rude to leave a good drink waiting.
That, and he had to stall for an answer somehow, but the best he could come up with was to turn it around with another question as he asked, “Why do you think I’m here?”
Benjamin gulped down the contents of his glass, which admittedly was barely a splash of alcohol poured out before his conscience caught up with him, and swiftly put the glass out of sight before any of the others saw him drinking on the job.
“Still chasing leads then?”
Abe shrugged. “Maybe.”
Looking out over the rest of the lounge car in search of a change of subject, Abe suddenly said, “Not a lot of people here, huh? Guess they’re all hiding out in their rooms.”
“Mm, no, I think this is about half of the guests on this particular trip,” Benjamin answered, and it was his turn to shrug when Abe turned a disbelieving stare on him. “Look around, detective. This is hardly vacationing weather in country that I assure you is much more pleasant in the spring, and at this time of the year the only people crossing the country by train are those who have somewhere they need to be and no other way to get there.”
He gestured toward the back of the train behind him and continued, “There is so little interest that we only have the one passenger car for this leg of the journey. There is just the dining car behind this, and a mail car we are taking to the next station as a way to earn enough revenue to even justify running the train as scheduled. On the other hand, I believe the services we provide during the journey will more than make this a trip to remember for all of our esteemed passengers.”
“I’m not tipping you extra for that.”
Benjamin scowled and made a pretense of cleaning the other side of the already pristine surface of the bar to put some distance between him and the detective.
Fine by Abe, who removed himself from the bar stool and took a more comfortable seat in the corner of the car.
Somehow knowing that there were so few people on board made this trip feel more…not sad, although it was kind of sad in a pathetic sort of way. Gloomy, maybe, with the darkening sky outside and the white snow coming down sideways in the train’s wake? No, more than that. There was another word for the mood settling in around Abe’s shoulders.
“Perhaps loneliness,” Wilford suggested.
“More like ominous, like a premonition of things to come,” Abe answered before freezing in place, the narration that threatened to spill out of him hitting a hard pause on that thought, his eyes still on the dark windows where he could see the reflection of the man sitting opposite him, smile gleaming and eyes twinkling like he was waiting for the joke to sink in.
Abe held his breath and turned his head, as though expecting both man and reflection to disappear when he laid eyes on the real thing.
Instead, the colorful man in an extravagant yellow and pink confectionary of a suit crossed his legs and settled further back into his plush seat, looking around the train car with undisguised wonder. His drawling, unhinged voice stirred up the worst kind of memories in Abe as he said, “You sure do know how to travel in style, don’t you detective?”
Abe nearly spilled his drink reaching for a gun that wasn’t there, a thousand questions running through his mind although most of them could be summed up by the words that finally made their way out of his mouth after a bout of helpless sputtering:
“What the hell?!”
Wilford took a sip of hot chocolate from a vibrant pink mug and swished it around his mouth thoughtfully before answering. God, Abe hoped that was hot chocolate. Wilford hyped up on coffee was a nightmare waiting to happen, and he already felt like he was in a waking one of those.
“The suit’s a bit much, isn’t it? But unlike you, I happen to enjoy dressing to the occasion. That, and apparently trousers are ‘mandatory’ around these parts, for some reason.”
Of all the feelings Abe expected when he laid eyes on Wilford Warfstache again, “relief” wasn’t one of them, but then he’d also never considered the apparently non-zero chance of running into his greatest enemy pantsless either.
“Aw, you think I’m the greatest?” Wilford said, his brown eyes crinkling with a smile.
“My greatest enemy, and don’t do that,” Abe answered, and if anything, Wilford’s smile just grew wider. “It’s not a compliment! How did you even get here?!”
Abe realized it was a ridiculous question as soon as he asked it, but Wilford seriously considered it before shrugging.
“Same as you, I suppose. Say, where’s this train going, anyways?”
“Why would you get on a train without knowing where you’re going?” Abe asked.
Another shrug. “Something, something, ‘life is about the journey, not the destination,’ or whatever it is people put on the postcards. What do you think they do for fun around here?”
Wilford turned around in his chair again to look over his shoulder at the other passengers, the silence except for the background noise of the train positively deafening.
“Huh. Not much, by the look of things. Bet we can do something to liven things up around here, what do you say, you old—”
Wilford’s words stopped short on his lips when he turned back around and found the detective inches away, a finger dangerously close to his nose as Abe spoke in a low growl.
“You’re not doing a thing on this trip, Colonel. The second we get off, I’m going to put you down.” Abe paused, aware something hadn’t come out right there. “I mean, the next stop this train makes, you’re under arrest.”
“Huh, I think you’re the only one who still calls me that,” Wilford said, unbothered by the threat.
“In fact,” Abe continued, too angry to be deterred by Wilford’s calm, “You’re already under arrest, and if I catch even a whiff of you trying to escape or laying even a finger on anyone else on this train, I’ll…”
He let the threat hang in the air unspoken, mostly because he couldn’t think of a way to finish it. His gun was locked away, and he couldn’t be sure the same could be said for Wilford, not if that Happy guy was able to keep his own weapon. That, and he knew all too well what Wilford could be capable of when the mood took him.
Wilford looked down at Abe’s finger still pointing in his face and gave it a little kiss before saying, “Whatever you say, detective. I’ll be on my best behavior, promise.”
“…Why do I feel like that’s not a very high bar?”
Wilford winked and toasted Abe with his mug of hot chocolate before taking a sip. The gesture revealed the black block letters printed on the side of the mug to Abe for the first time: SPOILER ALERT!
((End of Part 1. Hope you enjoyed it! I'm going to try to space each part by a couple of days or so, just because they're all on the longer side. For the record, no, that's not Actor Mark, but he is a Mark ego. Sort of. You'll see. Genuinely curious how many people know/remember Harold Apless. As far as I know he was only ever referenced on the ISWM website, and we only got a Noirverse photo of him. Haven't fully committed to who I imagine as "playing" him, maybe Sean? But judging by the shows' history that means he would actually end up being played by MatPat, so...
Link to Part 2: An Easy Offer to Refuse.
Also a confession about the tag list: it's, uh, been so long since I've written anything I'm not sure if this is the most up-to-date version at all. I also ended up removing a lot of urls that no longer connected to a blog, so I may have accidentally deleted a few valid ones. If you'd like to be added or removed, please just let me know in a comment.
Said hopefully not too out of date taglist: @silver-owl413 @asteriuszenith @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @95fangirl @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-star-eyes @shyinspiredartist @avispate @autumnrambles @authorracheljoy @liafoxyfox @hidinginmybochard
))
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ghiertor-the-gigapeen · 11 months
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Yesterday must be too traumatic, moots from insta gave me a better idea
Child safety leash will solves the problem!
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dizzybevvie · 8 months
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Illinois is a more likable character than Yancy by a MILE but you guys wont believe me bc Yancy has a musical number <\3
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vesrin · 2 years
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And, uh, thank you. For... not giving up on me. Just thank you.
(And thank you Mark for an amazing adventure :))
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crazyw3irdo · 8 months
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do y’all ever think about how yancy knows how to break out of prison and actively chooses not to. do you ever think about how when he breaks us out he knows the way so easily as if he’s been there a million times before. do you ever wonder if at some point he considered breaking himself out and just couldn’t go through with it.
#i have been thinking about this for the last few days it’s absolutely rotted my brain. like it’d occurred to me before but my brain is sooo#fixated on this lately like he. he knows. and he doesn’t. he’s done bad things and he doesn’t think he deserves it#just. younger yancy who just killed his parents and hasn’t fully processed anything trying to break himself out#standing at the gate knowing he can take a step out and be free again. and he doesn’t. and everything sinks in for him and he just slowly#goes back to his cell. and a few more times he does the exact same thing but… he just can’t bring himself to leave.#he constructs this half-truth about prison life being great and makes friends- makes a family. but. when y/n leaves the first thing he says#is that he’s done bad things. the ‘and hey! this is home!’ seems more like an afterthought that he’s trying to convince himself is true#god the fact that y/n gets a universal key in ending 12… i can see y/n breaking in to try and convince him to leave but he just won’t. he#could’ve gotten out before even without that. but he won’t. if he’s gonna get out he’s gonna do it right. even if it means he can’t stab any#one anymore :( and cmon everyone knows he loves to STAB#this seemed more tangential to include but also. do you think yancy’s ever broken anyone else out?#…do they visit? he was absolutely overjoyed when y/n visited in space i think he doesn’t get that many ngl…#god this character has like 15 or 16 minutes of screen time idk i haven’t recounted after space came out#*pats his head* this bad boy can fit so much overanalysis and headcanons in him#yancy#markiplier#yancy ahwm#ahwm yancy
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peachyloveswriting · 2 years
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Hey :D I was wondering if you could do a platonic thing where it’s like set in the iplier house like that one thing you wrote (in my au i imagine the house being the manor from wkm) and it’s just captain!y/n and head engineer who are rlly close both being rlly tired and worn from life/all engineer’s been through and just comforting each other <:) you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to though ! :))
Clear
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Pairing: engineer mark x reader (platonic)
A/n: today's been really rough, it was the last day of school and me and my bf have no way of communicating during summer, it's got me pretty fucked emotionally so I'm gonna cater to myself on this one
Summary: life and it's issues caught up to you sooner than you thought, at this point it really felt like you and mark again the world
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The Iplier house was hardly ever this quiet during this time of day, normally you’d be hearing some sort of noise out of one of Mark’s many egos or out of Mark himself. The only thing you could feel in the air besides your own body heat was the swirling of the different auras around you, Dark’s was the most prominent. 
You’d been sitting in the same spot for hours now, against the wall of the bedroom that had been made yours ever since you arrived and even though the events on the Invincible II were over they still haunted you. The pressure on your shoulders even though it had been lifted was still there, it’d been hard to hide your feelings from everyone, especially with how the auras of some of the different egos surrounded the house. 
Taking a deep breath and leaning your head back against the wall you were interrupted by the door opening, the suddenness of the noise startled you eliciting a scream from your throat. Looking up at the door in your state of shock you saw Engineer standing there staring at you with worry on his face. 
He walked over to where you sat on the ground and kneeled in front of you. “Are you okay?” he asked. 
“Well, definitely not with the way that you just scared me.” You exclaimed, shaking your head. Mark chuckled, shaking his head as well before setting in on the floor beside you. You both stared ahead in silence before Mark finally said something. 
“You were crying before I came in,” -- He took a breath -- “it’s been rough, I know.” 
You rested your head on his shoulder, allowing yourself to relax against him. “Yeah, I’m so tired.” You could feel the tears sting your eyes again. Mark noticed this and wrapped an arm around your back, he pulled you closer against him and rubbed your arms softly. With his free hand, he intertwined his hand with yours and rubbed your knuckles with his thumb. This was the most comforted you’d been in years, how you didn’t blow a head gasket sooner, you weren’t sure. 
With a shaky breath, you leaned further into Mark’s touch: this foreign thing you hadn’t felt in so long and hid your face in his chest. 
He unlinked his hand from yours and pulled you into his lap, furthering his grasp on you. You straddled his hips now, your arms wrapped around him and your face in the crook of his neck. 
Mark was your best friend, specifically engineer mark. He was the most considerate and sweet of all the egos, besides Yancy. 
As you cried and shook against him, tears soon began to sting his eyes too. He hated seeing you like this, not that he got to often, but to have this moment he began to realize just how much he hurt too. He hid his face against you, his hands clinging to the back of your shirt as sobs racked his body. 
You could begin to feel his tears wet your shirt, you knew yours were doing the same. Both of you sat there in your room, crying, not willing to let go of one another. No, you were unable to let go, even if you wanted to. You began to wonder if this friendship was the only way to find comfort in another person. He needed you and you needed him, you knew that from the moment the wormhole fucked everything up. 
Soon enough you both calmed down, neither of you willing to move from the position you were in. 
“I don’t want to move yet,” Mark whined. He confirmed your suspicion. 
“Neither do I.” You admitted. 
Mark's grasp on you tightened, as did yours on him. You were both quiet for a moment more before Mark piped up quietly, his breath hot against your ear. 
“Thank you, for everything again,” --he chuckled lightly--” even though I already said thanks.” 
You smiled lightly at his words, closing your eyes to take in the moment. 
“Thank you too, you’ve done so much for me, I don’t even know how to ever re-pay you.” 
Mark smiled at that, nuzzling himself further against your neck. “Let’s just stay here for a bit and relish in it, okay?” He asked.
You nodded slightly in agreement, and not another word was shed between the two of you. 
You’d been like that for so long that sleep was beginning to overtake you until a very loud someone walked past your open door to see you and engineer Mark so close. Wilford backpedaled at the sight, a sly smile on his face. Raising a finger to your lips you hushed him in fear that you would wake Mark who had fallen asleep before you. He giggled silently before pulling out a camera from thin air and snapping a picture, with a small giggle he ran back down the stairs where you heard him announce the scene he had just witnessed. This would be a long-winded explanation but until then you were going right back to dreamland.
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thelooniemoonie · 2 years
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“𝕾𝖔 𝖒𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊…𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖔 𝖘𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖑.”
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amee-racle-ofmyown · 3 months
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'Maybe I'm just an anomaly'
'I was never meant to win'
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falseroar · 2 years
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Okay, as much as Mark has been making fun of everyone who “ran toward the Dark path” in a Heist, I need to know something that’s been bothering me ever since the first time I played it:
Did anyone else look at the Light path and the Dark path and think it was a total misdirect?
Like, I know Mark says that the dark tunnel is the one that guy ran down and died in, but it’s not what we saw. We see the guy running right towards the light, followed by the monster, then cue screaming. Besides, Mark’s the same guy who thinks splitting up is a good idea like two minutes later, so his judgment isn’t running at a 100% here.
I legit thought going down the Light tunnel would lead us to walk straight into the monster that was still in it, so went with the Dark tunnel instead. I also managed to keep Mark alive through all of it and got to see a couple different timelines/realities, so was it really the worst choice?
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sweet-sage-tea · 2 years
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My favorite endings for each Adventure with Markiplier series:
ADWM - Chocolate, Ending 4/10
What can I say? I've always been a simp for Darkiplier. And, after finally understanding the events of WKM, I have to say that I kind of pity him. and also, chocolate ice cream over vanilla any day!
AHWM - I Want To Be Free, Ending 12/31
The man's (Yancy) killed his parents, yet still makes me unable to not love him. Anyone who does that gets my adoration. Also I like to imagine that Y/N visits him using the skeleton key sometimes and that they hang out, singing songs and whatnot. the blindfold bit always gets me with the part where it implies that you have to dance to get out of the prison lmao.
ISWM Pt 1 - In Space Without Markiplier, Faux Ending
I'd like to think of this "ending" as the good ending in ISWM. (the one where mark dies and the colony goes on and thrives.) I'd also like to think that Celci takes over Mark's role of leading you through the story, because I genuinely believe it would be very fun to go through ISWM but with Celci by your side. she just seems like a lovely person to chill with- pun intended.
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sallymew4 · 2 years
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ILLINOIS ??!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!??!?!??!?!?!??!?!
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the-furies · 1 year
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ok how long is it gonna take to get all these endings. let's go
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glassphinix · 2 years
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i’ve been trapped in my room for the past week so i drew references for yin and you are going to Look At Them <3
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randomshipperhere · 2 years
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Don’t mind me thinking that depending on the person Yancy could’ve been waiting on you for a month or 3 years before you showed up in ISWM pt.2 and the implications of it.
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