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toboldlygohome · 2 months

Text

"Please..."

Mark Watney X Reader

Summary: Nothing could have prepared you for the pain of losing your boyfriend on Sol 6. But you were even less prepared to find out that he didn't die. You left him there. Alone.

Character(s): Mark Watney, Beth Johanssen, Chris Beck, Melissa Lewis, Alex Vogel, Rick Martinez.

Warning(s): Descriptions of grief, Mentions of death, Cursing (lots of it), Mildly sexual themes (nothing explicit), Mentions of malnourishment.

A/N: I absolutely adore The Martian, but I've noticed a criminally low amount of fan content for it, so I decided to make some! I've decided to follow more closely to the book plot rather than the movie (Just because I like the dialogue more and it's more scientifically accurate). However, there will be a couple scenes from the movie sprinkled in just because I thought they were fun. I hope you enjoy!

It was the morning of Sol 6 and you were up early to make some coffee before your EVA mission. The past few days on Mars had been busy, but far more rewarding than you could have ever imagined. You were one of the geologists in the Ares 3 crew, along with Commander Lewis of course. Mars, to you, was a playground of science. A giant sphere of discovery you couldn't wait to explore.

Today's EVA was to gather samples from near the hab. You had seen plenty of rocks on the way in that you needed to overturn almost as much as you needed oxygen to breathe.

You sensed a hand on the small of your back and felt goosebumps trail up your spine. "Morning Y/L/N. Anything to report?" A playful voice proclaimed.

"Other than bland coffee and terrible sleep, nothing of interest~" You turned back and smiled at your boyfriend. He brushed his thumb over a patch of exposed skin on your lower back before pulling his hand away.

"Hey, at least you don't have to sleep under Martinez, bastard was tossing and turning all night." He smirked as he made his own cup. "I'm barely getting by, the only thing keeping me grounded is this bland ass coffee."

You snickered and rolled your eyes. "Poor baby," You teased.

You and Mark Watney had been together for almost three years, in secret of course. NASA isn't exactly fond of sending couples into space where they might throw caution to the wind and procreate in transit. You were professionals, this mission was something you both had been looking forward to since it was announced. But that wouldn't stop the Space Administration from removing you both from Ares 3.

Nobody knew you were together. Not NASA, not your families, not even the crew knew of your relationship. As far as anyone was concerned, you were just great friends (inseparable in fact). You went out for dinners, went on morning jogs together, spent late nights gaming and going over the mission handbook. Everyone knew you confided in one another and worked incredibly as a team. But nobody would have guessed that instead of playing Yahtzee together on your evenings off, Mark was slowly and deliciously making you breathless with his lips, melting you with his touch.

Once the mission actually started, it was much harder than anticipated to cut out the physical affection. There were cameras everywhere on the ship and absolutely no way to hide from them. The only place for privacy was the bathrooms, but you had a rather close call that involved Mark dragging you there under the guise of helping him with his laptop (which obviously earned an eyebrow raise from Johanssen,) only for him to kiss you with the desperation of a man dying of thirst. You were nearly caught by Beck and you both decided not to risk it again. Luckily, you and Watney were a couple of problem solvers.

Instead of kisses, you resorted to touching. A hand on the back, an arm on the shoulder, a nudge of the elbow. Casual touch became your replacement for intimacy.

Mark pulled a smug smile and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. "You know what Y/N, I am a poor baby. But I can think of something that would make me feel better..." He whispered close to your ear. You flushed and playfully shoved him back.

"In your dreams Watney." You scoffed but your hand lingered on his stomach, earning a cheeky grin from the botanist.

"How'd you know?" He laughed, glancing down at your lips briefly. You knew what he was thinking: that it had been awhile and maybe he could risk just a little peck. Mark was a reckless one, that's for sure.

"Guys, quit flirting so loudly. I was trying to get a few minutes extra sleep before Lewis pulls out the bugle," Beck strolled in and grabbed a ration packet.

"Flirting? With him?" You asked incredulously, jabbing your thumb toward Mark.

"And vice versa," Beck shrugged.

"You must be seeing things, maybe we should call a doctor?" Watney sassily took a sip of his drink.

"Hilarious," Beck replied. Chris had been fighting for you and Mark to get together for about as long as you've known him (which is a decent number of years, in case you were wondering.) Little did he know you had already jumped that fence. You felt bad for keeping it from him, but you were sure he'd understand given his thing with Johanssen.

"Oh good, you guys are already up." Lewis sighed "hey, can one of you wake up Martinez? He's not listening to a single word I say."

You gave Watney a sidelong glance. He groaned and downed the rest of his terrible space coffee. "Yeah sure, I can go get the bastard. I'll give him a piece of my mind while I'm at it." Mark stomped off to the bunks and Lewis followed him. You casually sat beside Beck, who gave you a knowing smile.

"You know Chris, it would probably happen on its own if you didn't push it so much." You mumbled against the rim of your cup in an attempt to hide a smile.

"It's obvious he likes you too. Practically written all over his face," Beck said. "Honestly though, you two don't even realize when you're flirting. It's kind of incredible."

You huffed, "Now's not the best time for all that, you know."

"I know, I know. Just, keep it on the table okay?"

"Whatever you say Dr. Beck," You snickered. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have an EVA to prep for."

Chris rolled his eyes and poked at the food on his plate, "you're excused."

~~~

"Alright team, stay in sight of each other. Let's make NASA proud today." Lewis announced.

"How's it looking over there Watney?" Martinez asked.

"Well, you'll be happy to hear that in grid section 14/28, the particles are predominantly coarse. But in 29 they're uh... much finer. That should be ideal for chem analysis."

"Oh wow! did everyone hear that? Mark just discovered dirt! Should we alert the media?" Martinez teased. Mark glanced up at you, but you couldn't see his face behind the helmet.

"Hey, you better watch it fly boy. I'm working this grid too!" You laughed.

"Sorry, what are you doing today Martinez? Making sure the MAV is still upright?" You could hear the smirk in Mark's voice.

"Well, I'd like you to know that visual inspection of the equipment is imperative to mission success," Rick preached. "I'd also like to report that the MAV is still upright."

You and Mark giggled as you worked on the grid. "Watney, you're keeping your channel open, which leads to Martinez responding, which leads to all of us listening, which leads to me being annoyed," Lewis scolded halfheartedly.

"Roger that, Martinez the captain would like you to please uh," Mark looked at you for approval and continued. "Shut your smart mouth."

Rick cackled and you playfully nudged Mark on the shoulder.

"We'd prefer you use a different adjective to describe Martinez's mouth." Beck said from inside the Hab, resulting in even more laughter from the rest of the crew.

"Did Beck just insult me?!"

"Dr. Beck and yes!"

"I'm happy to turn the radios off from here commander. Just say the word." Johanssen suggested.

"Johanssen, constant communication is the hallmark-" Watney started.

"Shut him off" Melissa gave the order.

"No-" Johanssen cut him off. Mark tossed his little hammer in the dirt and looked back at the captain like she had just kicked a kitten. You patted the shoulder of his suit and urged him to get back to work.

"I'm sorry for my countrymen, Vogel." Lewis said.

"Accepted," Vogel shrugged and glanced up at the sky. "The storm... It's closer than Houston reported."

"We've got time," Lewis said. "Focus on the task at hand. This EVA's all about chemical analysis. Vogel, you're the chemist so you're in charge of what we dig up."

"Ja, Please dig thirty centimeters and get soil samples. At least one hundred grams each. Very important is thirty centimeters down." Vogel clarified, eyes back on his work.

"Will do, stay within a hundred meters of the Hab," Lewis said.

You worked in peace and quiet for a few minutes. You measured the grid while Mark hammered the grid labels. You could hardly wait to take samples. Mark was right, it was perfect for chem analysis. Unfortunately, your work was short-lived because Johanssen had some bad news.

"Commander, you should come inside. You're gonna want to see this."

"What is it?" Lewis asked.

"Houston has upgraded the storm to 'severe.' It's going to be here in fifteen minutes." Johanssen said.

You perked your head up to get a look at the sky. Already it was getting darker.

"Martinez, how's it looking?" Asked commander Lewis.

"Not good." He said.

After a moment of contemplation, Lewis made her decision. "Back to base."

~~~

The Hab shook and the sound of wind and debris outside only exacerbated the tension within. Lewis commanded everyone to put on their flight suits and you congregated around the screen, wondering if this was the end of your mission.

"Sustained winds over one hundred kilometers per hour now. Gusting to one twenty-five," Johanssen frowned.

"Jesus, we're gonna end up in Oz," Watney said. "What's the abort speed?"

"One fifty kilometers per hour, anymore than that and the MAV's in danger of tipping." Martinez placed his hands on his hips.

"Any predictions on the storm track?" Lewis asked.

"This is the edge of it... It's gonna get worse before it gets better." Johanssen delivered the bad news with confidence. Silence fell over the group and you grabbed Mark's hand. You wished you could feel the warmth, but the gloves on the flight suit acted as a barrier. Watney met your sorrowful eyes. You'd have to end the mission before it even started. He let go of your hand and pressed you into his side. It was over. 25 sols early. You leaned your head against his shoulder and willed the grief to subside.

"Alright, prep for abort. We'll go to the MAV and hope for the best. If the wind gets too high, we launch." Lewis grabbed her helmet.

~~~

Outside the Hab, the wind was disastrous. Mark was nearly swept off his feet by the force of the gusts. He slammed into you, but you managed to keep him on his feet.

"Shit! Thanks." Watney regained his balance.

"Visibility is almost zero. If you get lost, hone in on my suit's telemetry! The wind's gonna be rougher away from the Hab, so be ready!" Lewis warned.

The Ares crew stumbled toward the MAV with ever increasing uncertainty. You had to lean into the wind to avoid being thrown backward. Mark wasn't doing much better. It didn't help that his mind wasn't on getting to the MAV safely, it was on how to keep it upright. Watney was smart, too smart for his own good.

"Hey," Watney panted. "Maybe we could shore up the MAV. Make tipping less likely."

"How?" Lewis Huffed.

"We could use cables from the solar farm as guylines. The rovers could be anchors. The trick would be getting the line around the-"

You choked on your scream as Mark was struck by a massive piece of wreckage, sending him off into the disorienting mist of dust and wind.

"MARK!" You screamed and tried to stumble after him, but you could barely see an inch in front of your helmet.

"What happened?" Lewis said.

"Something hit him!" Johanssen said shakily.

"Watney report..." Lewis said. You listened hard and prayed he'd answer. "Watney, report!" Nothing.

"He's offline, I don't know where he is." Johanssen reported as calmly as she could. You bit back a whimper as you shuffled forward.

"Commander, before we lost telemetry, his decompression alarm went off!" Beck said.

"Shit! Y/L/N, where did you last see him?" Lewis asked.

"H-he was right in front of me and then he was gone," you managed. "He flew off due west" You pointed.

"Okay, Martinez, get to the MAV and prep for launch. Everyone else, home in on Johanssen."

"Dr. Beck, how long can a person survive decompression?" Vogel asked.

"Less than a minute." Beck looked back at you. You could hear the pain in his voice. No. Mark couldn't be... He was just beside you a moment ago.

"Commander, the MAV's got a seven degree tilt. It'll tip at 12.3."

"Copy that."

He's alive, he can't be dead!

"Johanssen, Watney's bio-monitor sent something before going offline. My computer just says 'Bad Packet,'" Beck said.

"Give me a sec," Johanssen said.

"Commander, message from Houston. We're officially scrubbed. The storm's definitely too rough."

"Copy."

"Beck, I have the raw packet!" Johanssen said, "It's plaintext: BP 0, PR 0, TP 36.2. That's as far as I got."

Beck sighed and shook his head. "Blood pressure zero, pulse rate zero, temperature normal..."

Your chest tightened and your eyes burned. "Temperature normal?" You asked hopefully.

"It takes a while for the-" Beck swallowed. "It takes awhile to cool."

"Commander, tilting at 10.5 degrees now, with gusts pushing it to 11." Martinez reported.

"Copy, if it tips, launch."

"What about you commander?"

"I'm going to search a little more."

"You really think I'll leave you behind?" Martinez asked.

"I just ordered you to. You four, get to the ship." Lewis replied.

"Let me help search commander, we'll find him faster if we-" Lewis cut you off.

"That's an order, Y/L/N. Go."

Beck nudged you forward. You reluctantly allowed him to.

"Johanssen, would the rover IR camera do any good?"

"Negative. IR can't get through sand any better than visible light."

"What about the proximity radar? Could it detect Watney's suit?"

"No way. It's made to see Hermes, not the metal in a single space suit."

"Give it a try," Lewis ordered.

"Commander, I know you don't want to hear this... but Wat-... Mark's dead." Beck said.

No.

Please...

Everything around you was a blur. You went through the motions from training. Strapping yourself in, readying your station, waiting for launch. You couldn't look at the empty seat beside you. You couldn't think about anything but your job right now, If you allowed your thoughts to that dark place, you'd have to be dragged along by the rest of the crew.

You couldn't do that to them. Not now.

Lewis returned to the ship and strapped herself in. "Still at pilot-release," Martinez said softly. "Ready for launch."

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"I'm sorry Commander, you need to verbally-"

"Launch."

You felt the bone-crushing power of ascent. The g's did nothing but forcefully push the tears from your eyes.

You wish it would have been you.

~~~

Mark Watney closed out of the mission log application and stared at the computer screen for a few minutes. He couldn't fathom the hopelessness he was feeling, it was too deep to swim out of. What else was there to do but sit and wait to die? Maybe it would be easier to just go into the airlock and open the doors!

Watney turned his head to a picture of you on the wall behind the computer. It was there among other pictures of the crew and their families. You were standing with your brother in front of one of those rickety wooden roller coasters at Six Flags. He felt a painful twinge in his chest. You thought he was dead and there was no way to tell you otherwise.

He was completely alone, had the whole goddamned planet to himself. Mark rubbed his hands over his face. "Fuck..." he said. "Fuck!" he pulled at the hair on his head before looking up at the picture again. He wished he would have kissed you. He wanted to that morning when you were sharing coffee. He should have said he loved you. Mark hadn't said it in so long.

He knew you like the back of his hand. You were blaming yourself. Everyone in the crew was probably doing the same. He could barely stomach the thought.

Mark grabbed the picture from the wall and shuffled to the bunks. He was so tired and in a lot of pain from the stupid antenna. He was about to settle into his bed, when his eyes landed on yours. After a moment of deliberation, he hobbled into your bunk and pulled the covers up to his chin. It still smelled like you. He buried his face into your pillow and cried.

~~~

You sat in the dining area in the Hermes, watching as the windows slowly spun around. It had been about a week since the incident and you weren't sure you had any more tears left to cry. You did your best to keep on task during your waking hours, only allowing yourself to feel when everyone else was either asleep or taking the piloting shift.

Your fingers drummed lightly against the table, mingling with the beeps, boops, groans, and hums of the ship keeping you safe from the unforgiving vacuum of space. You thought about a lot of things. About Mark, his parents, the house he wanted so badly to buy, his favorite music, his plants growing in the botany lab... The one thing you didn't want to think about was his body, how it would be buried by sand and dust within the year, how Mars would never let it decay. You tried not to think about how if you had just reached for him, maybe he'd still be alive.

"Y/N?" A familiar German accent spoke. You tensed and dared a glance back at Vogel.

"Hey, what's up?" You plastered a grin on your face.

"I have noticed you've not been sleeping. You are... Okay?" He asked, lumbering closer. He was clearly very tired and you felt terrible he was here worrying about you instead of getting some much deserved rest.

"Yeah... Yeah I'm okay Alex, just... Can't sleep." You sighed.

"Have you spoken to doctor Beck? I am sure we have sleep medication on board."

"Oh I know... I just don't really want to bother him, you know? I mean, we're all going through it right now..." You shifted under his gaze.

"You are having bad dreams," Vogel stated. "You're afraid if you sleep, they will come back."

"How could you tell?" You peeked tiredly up at him.

"My little monkeys... before I left, some of them had bad dreams. A father can always tell." He sat down beside you at the table.

You felt your eyes burning again. You hadn't dared ask for comfort from your crew mates, not even Chris. Now that you were receiving it, you wished you had asked for it long ago. There was a hellish cocktail of emotions running through you: relief, sadness, safety, longing, despair. You were so relieved that Alex was here. You were sad to think about how deeply his loved ones must be missing him. You thought about what Alex said about his "little monkeys." Mark would have made a great father if he'd only had the chance.

"You love him. Very much," Vogel said.

"I did..." You whispered.

"You do." Alex grabbed your hand and the tears poured from your eyes. "You do..."

"I do," You let out a choked sob. Vogel pulled you into a gentle hug.

"This pain of loss we feel... It will never go away. But it will get easier to live with as time goes by. This, I promise is true."

"Thank you Alex." You whispered.

"You're welcome..." He patted your back and pulled away. "Now, shall we try some rest?"

"I'll try," you put on a brave face.

"And- what is it?-" He thought aloud. "When first you don't succeed-"

"Try try again," You said with a sad smile. "Words to live by."

~~~

LOG ENTRY: SOL 23

So, I'm still brain storming the whole, "Mark Watney can only really make his potato farm last 90 days," problem. Can't say It's going too well. I'm surrounded by the stench of my own shit. Kinda distracting.

I've made the executive decision to take a long overdue break out in the rover. Sure, logically I know I should probably utilize every spare second on planning my survival right down to the last drop of water, but riddle me this: just who is gonna stop me? Not NASA, that's for sure.

It's funny. I came into the rover to escape the rancid poop smell, but it seems to have followed me. Turns out, I was the poop smell all along! If Y/N were here, they would have forcibly shoved into the shower. They'd say something like... "Don't even think about touching me until you smell like ocean breeze!" (What does ocean breeze even smell like? How do you smell a breeze?...)There are few things in life Y/N hates more than stink. Me being on Mars is probably one of them.

What I would give to see you right now. Even just a dream would be nice, but I guess that's asking too much.

I miss my parents a lot. Maybe that's an understatement. I haven't really let myself think about it, but sitting here in this cramped rover really has my mind wandering. I really should have told them about Y/N. Maybe if things don't work out for me, they could confide in each other.

I don't have much else to say. The calculations aren't done and quite frankly, I'm depressed.

I'll probably scrub this log from the system, It's kind of a downer.

~~~

You had been doing better. Getting at least 6 hours of sleep a day was an accomplishment and you were eating your meals, but a certain date on the calendar was growing closer. You made yourself busier and busier, but no amount of work would keep this day from coming.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 62

On Earth it's January 8th, which is a very special day. Our anniversary! It's official, we've been together for three years! Yeah, yeah I hear you. These logs are for work purposes only, but I promise no one's gonna see this one. Not even you.

I think about that day a lot. It was freezing outside and snowing everywhere. I don't even remember why we walked to the cafe that day, but I'm thankful for it. You were holding your hot cup so tightly and your coat wasn't nearly thick enough for the weather. You were complaining that the snow came early and I laughed at you.

I think we both knew for a long time that this would happen. A year at least. We kept ourselves just at arms length, on the brink of lovers without ever crossing that line. We never discussed it before, but we knew once the mission was over, we'd do it. We'd take that step.

I had wanted to kiss you all day. Want isn't really the word for it. How about craved. Desired? Yearned~

I wrapped my coat around you and you complained again, said that I'd catch a cold and it would all be your fault. The way you looked at me... Still gives me chills when I think about it. It's like I'm still standing on that sidewalk, snowflakes landing on my nose.

I told you, "I can think of something that'll warm us both up..."

You said, "Then what are you waiting for?"

I was right of course. I always am. I just didn't expect you to be so... magnetizing! Like damn babe, you had me weak in the knees! (What am I, a Disney princess?)

I'll be back with you someday. It'll be your anniversary present from me. You're welcome in advance. XOXO - World's Handsomest Boyfriend.

-P.S. You left your deodorant in the Hab. I've been using it. Totally not creepy.

-P.P.S. Who's the stinky one now?

-P.P.P.S. You better be prepared, when I get off this wasteland of a planet, I'm making up for lost time. You aren't gonna be able to walk for AT LEAST a week.

-P.P.P.P.S. I was talking about CUDDLING you perv~

(or was I? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

~~~

This had to be one of the greatest days in Mark Watney's life.

Contact.

Sweet, sweet contact!

[11:18]JPL: Mark, This is Venkat Kapoor. We've been watching you since Sol 49. The whole world's been rooting for you. Amazing job, getting Pathfinder. We're working on rescue plans. JPL is adjusting Ares 4's MDV to do a short overland flight. They'll pick you up, then take you with them to Schiaparelli. We're putting together a supply mission to keep you fed until Ares 4 arrives.

Watney could hardly believe it! Everything was working! They had known he was alive since Sol 49! His eyes were brimming and his breathing came out in short gasps as he fought to control himself. He used to take messages for granted, now they're the only tether he has to humanity.

He's not alone anymore.

His hands shook as he wrote out his message.

[11:29]Watney: Glad to hear it. Really looking forward to not dying. I want to make it clear it wasn't the crew's fault. What did they say when they found out I was alive?

Mark shifted in his seat. The reply was taking a bit longer than expected. He hadn't talked to anyone in so long. The thought of being so close, only to fail right in the beginning was terrifying. He wasn't sure he could survive that kind of disappointment.

[11:48]JPL: We haven't told the crew you're alive yet. We wanted them to focus on their own mission.

What. The. Fuck.

Mark covered his face with his hands and released a frustrated groan. "You've got to be shitting me!"

You didn't know. You didn't know he was alive.

"What the fuck? Wha... What the fuck?!" He took a shaky breath and wrestled with his frustration.

[12:05]Watney: They don't know I'm alive? What the fuck? WTF? Seriously! What the fuck is wrong with you?

[12:23]JPL: Please watch your language. Everything you type is being broadcast live all over the entire world.

They did not just say that.

After everything he has been through, there is no way JPL just told him to watch his language.

So, that's how they want to play it, huh?

[12:42]Watney: Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck shit fuck shit fuck! Fuck fuckity fuckfuckfuck! Oh look! A pair of boobs!-> (.Y.) How's that for watching my language, you goddamned bureaucratic felchers!

NASA got the message loud and clear.

~~~

Four months passed and you fell into a routine. Wake up, eat, work, sleep, repeat. It was predictable, which was something you were thankful for.

You took on Watney's role as the ship's botanist. You weren't as good as him, but really, who was? You couldn't match his skill even if you tried. Still, you followed all of his experiments. Took diligent notes and snapped as many pictures as you could.

Martinez joked that you took better care of the plants than yourself. It was one of those jokes meant to expose an underlying issue: You weren't looking after yourself. There was a shadow hanging over everything you did. The crew was experiencing it too. Mark Watney was one of a kind. Everyone he touched felt his loss so viscerally, so deeply.

You needed time, just like Vogel said. But that didn't mean everyone had to be okay with you beating yourself up like this.

Lewis knew better than anyone how you were feeling. As the Commander, she should have tried a little harder. And you... You were right there in arm's reach. Yes, Lewis knew how you felt only too well.

You heard a faint Knock in the doorway. You looked up from the camera and met Beck's eyes.

"Data dump will be completed soon. Care to join?" He smiled.

You managed a smile back, "Yeah, sure. I'm hoping I got something from my siblings. Maybe my niece and nephew too." You strapped the camera to the wall so it wouldn't float away, then you pushed yourself toward your crewmate.

"How about your parents?" He asked.

"Oh, that's a given. I can't get them to leave me alone," you chuckled.

You floated down to Semicone-A, where everyone else was already waiting for the data dump.

"Is it here yet?" Beck asked.

"Almost, it's at ninety-eight percent." Johanssen shot him a grin.

"You're looking cheerful, Martinez," Beck laughed.

"My son turned three yesterday." He beamed. Should be some pics of the party. How about you?"

"Oh, nothing special. Just some peer reviews of a paper I wrote a few years back."

"Complete," Johanssen said. "All the personal e-mails are dispatched to your laptops. Also there's a telemetry update for Vogel and a system update for me....Huh.... There's a voice message addressed to the whole crew."

"Play it." Lewis shrugged. Everyone gathered around the screen as Beth pressed play.

"Hermes, this is Mitch Henderson," the message started.

"Henderson? Talking directly to us without CAPCOM?"

Lewis raised her hand to signal silence.

"I have some news. There's no subtle way to put this:.....Mark Watney's still alive."

Your stomach dropped.

"Wha-" Beck choked.

"I know that's a surprise. And I know you'll have a lot of questions. We're going to answer those questions. But for now I'll just give you the basics. He's alive and healthy. We found out two months ago and decided not to tell you. I was strongly against all that. We're telling you now because we finally have communication with him and a viable rescue plan. It boils down to Ares 4 picking him up with a modified MDV. We'll get you a full write-up of what happened, but it's definitely not your fault. Mark stresses that every time it comes up."

You clenched your eyes shut as they burned painfully with tears.

"Take some time to absorb this. Your science schedules are cleared for tomorrow. Send all the questions you want and we'll answer them. Henderson out."

Silence fell over the bridge.

"He...He's alive?" Martinez beamed.

"He lives." Vogel nodded excitedly and squeezed your shoulder.

"Holy shit!" Beck laughed. "Holy shit! Commander! He's alive!"

"I left him behind," Lewis muttered.

You covered your eyes with your hands, fighting to stay quiet.

"No, hey... we all left togeth-"

"You followed orders...I left him behind. In a barren, unreachable, godforsaken wasteland." Lewis scowled and trudged off the bridge.

Everyone stood around the console. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"Y/N?" Chris asked softly.

"Are you okay?" Beth added.

You shook your head. You couldn't look at any of them right now.

"I need a minute..." you said softly before hurrying back out of the Semicone. You retreated back to the comfort of the botany lab. It was all so much to process.

First Mark is dead, you left him behind to die. Then Mark is alive, you left him behind to die. He doesn't want you to blame yourselves, it was terrible luck. He's healthy. He can contact Earth. Mars is a desolate planet. He's all alone. On an entire planet. You left him there. He will never be safe until he's back on Earth soil. It will be four years until Ares 4 arrives.

He will be alone on Mars for four years.

You left him there.

~~~

Y/N,

I'm typing this letter to you because talking to you relaxes me. I won't actually be sending this to you. It's not going to be professional in nature like the other notes I've sent you. (JPL says that you have received all of them, but have neglected to send me any of your responses. The only one I have gotten from any of the crew was one from Lewis. She invited me for beer to make up for leaving me on Mars.)

Anyway, some bad stuff happened. I wish you were here. Not because I want you to have been launched by an airlock. Never that. I just really fucking miss you. I really need you right now. I almost died last night. I had to do some serious surgery on my suit to keep me alive and I had to sift through the dilapidated remnants of the Hab to find a new one.

I'm so tired. I just want you to hold me. I'm so sick of all of this. Fuck Mars, Fuck the Hab. I'm so sick and tired of getting my hopes up and being disappointed. I miss you so much. You make every one of my bad days good. I know if you were here, everything would be okay again.

Why did this have to happen?

Mars keeps throwing curve balls at me, but I'm not giving up. I've got a lot to look forward to and I'm trying to focus on that.

-Mark

P.S. Your bed stopped smelling like you a month ago.

~~~

The crew of Ares 3 met in the Rec. A secret message had arrived not even an hour ago. One that would alter their mission by 533 extra days.

"Are we going to do it?" Johanssen asked.

"I won't lie, I'd sure as hell like to. But this isn't a normal decision. This is something NASA expressly rejected. We're talking about mutiny. And that's not a word I throw around lightly," Lewis explained. "We'll only do it if we all agree. And before you answer, consider the consequences. If we mess up the supply rendezvous, we die. If we mess up the Earth gravity assist, we die. If we do everything correctly, we add 533 days to our mission. 533 days of unplanned space travel where anything could go wrong. Maintenance will be a hassle. Something might break that we can't fix. If it's life-critical, we die."

"Sign me up!" Martinez announced, causing you to smile. At least someone else was as enthusiastic to bring Mark home as you were.

"Easy, cowboy. You and I are military. There's a good chance we'd be court-martialed when we get home. As for the rest of you, I guarantee they'll never send you up again," Lewis said.

"If we do this," Vogel looked to you and back at Lewis. "It would mean over one thousand days of space. This is enough space for a life. I do not need to return."

You couldn't have possibly said it better yourself. It was like Alex was reading your mind.

"Sounds like Vogel's in. Me too obviously," Martinez laughed.

"Let's do it," Beck agreed.

"If you think it'll work, I trust you," Johanssen said.

Lewis nodded and turned to you. "Y/L/N?"

"You don't even need to ask me. Let's go get our boy," You smiled.

Wow. This is the first time you've smiled... a real smile, since leaving Mars.

'Hang in there babe,' You thought. 'I'm on my way.'

~~~

LOG ENTRY: SOL 192-2

Yep, another secret letter do my dear, long lost love~ How predictable. I don't really care, today's been a great day. I can't believe you're coming back for me! Here I was, thinking I'd have to survive without you for four years. Then there you go, riding in from the sunset to bring me home.

Logically I know the rest of the crew had something to do with it, but I kind of like the idea that maybe I am a Disney princess and you're my knight in shining armor coming to rescue me.

It's like the story of Rapunzel, except my tower is a whole planet and instead of catching my hair, you're catching my MAV. Now that I think about it, the stories are more different than they are similar.

That hardly matters though, what does matter is that for the first time I actually feel like I'll survive. I trust our team with every fiber of my being, but most of all I trust you. I'm gonna rest easy tonight. And in the morning I'll start my work on the rovers!

See you in about a year babe! I'll be counting down the hours. Literally.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 426

Happy anniversary Y/N! You thought I'd forget? Never! You know why that is? Because I fucking love you, that's why!

Four years we've been together as of today, that's assuming we are counting the year we've been apart as "being together", (which I do.) Today I'm really beating myself up over frying Pathfinder with my drill all those months ago. It was my only form of communication with you and I royally fucked it up.

You'd think that cutting myself off from Earth, NASA and humanity at large would be what upset me the most. Nope, it's the fact that I can't send you a super sneaky secret anniversary e-mail. I also missed my parents' birthdays, your birthday, Christmas AND Thanksgiving. Twice. Also, fucking Valentine's day! I used to hate that holiday before I met you.

Anyway, as you can see, I totally have all my priorities in order! Also! I got you a present~ Since you have no way to read this, I don't feel bad spoiling it for you. I found a little rock. It's in the shape of a heart.

Awwww wow! That's cute, I just realized that I'm giving you my heart for our anniversary! To be honest, you had it a long time ago.

I miss you. I miss your smell, your eyes, the feel of your skin. Most of all, I really, really miss your voice. I just want to hear you. I've forgotten what you sound like. I'm scared If I didn't have this picture of you and your brother, I'd forget what your face looks like too.

I'm starting my long commute to Schiaparelli in 23 days. It'll be a two month drive. I really hate driving in the rover. But if it gets me to you, who cares? I'm stalling. I've got a lot of work tomorrow and I just want to enjoy today. I wish I was there with you to enjoy it obviously, but we can't all get what we want (least of all, me.) I've learned how to settle.

Speaking of settling, what do you think about getting married in the woods, or a big grassy field? I'd like there to be as much green as possible. No red or orange, we're talking the opposite side of the color wheel here. I can picture you walking down the aisle. I'll be an absolute mess, but who cares. You're the love of my life. Thanks for, y'know, coming back to pick me up instead of leaving me to die on Mars.

I hope you like the rock.

-Mark

P.S. I grew a beard and my hair looks like the 80's had a baby with a grease monster. You'd hate it.

P.P.S. I hope you're into pirates~

P.P.P.S. Y/N Watney... Mark Y/L/N... hmmmmm, so hard to choose!

P.P.P.P.S. We are never eating potatoes again.

P.P.P.P.P.S And ABSOLUTELY NO DISCO MUSIC!

~~~

You stared at Mars creeping back into view. The last time you were here, Mark was sitting beside you, arm around your waist, your head on his shoulder. Maybe it wasn't your most subtle of moments, but how could anyone not be enthralled by the beauty of the red planet? Even now it was hard not to feel stricken with wonder.

Sometimes your mind played tricks on you. You'd see a speck of dust on the window and think you could see Watney on the surface. That was ridiculous of course, There is no possible way to see an individual person this far out. That didn't stop you from imagining it.

NASA had briefed everyone on the Martian's health, explained that he wouldn't look the same as the last time you saw him. You expected as much, but the thought still worried you. It wasn't that you were worried if you'd still find him attractive, there was no force on Earth or beyond that could change how much you loved Mark Watney. It was his health that worried you.

During all your back and forth questions with NASA that Henderson had arranged, you inquired about his health. They said he was doing well, but that he was stretching his little amount of food to its limits. That's what scared you the most. How would his immune system fare? How would he acclimate back to normal food on Earth? All of these questions went unanswered. NASA was honest, "we won't know for sure until he gets here."

"Mind if I join you?" Lewis asked softly, floating a short distance away.

"Of course Commander. I'd like the company," You said. It was surprising to realize you actually meant it. It'd been awhile since you wanted to spend time with anyone.

Melissa floated further into the cupola and settled beside you.

"Crazy to think that in a few days he'll be up here with us again..." Lewis said softly.

"Yeah..." you said softly, keeping your eyes ahead.

"I know how much you miss him... You two were always great friends."

You swallowed hard and tried to ignore the pit in your stomach as you nodded. "Yeah..."

You could see Lewis looking at you out of the corner of your eye. Her expression was conflicted. "I'm really sorry this happened. I know it's been hard on you. I should have searched a little longer-"

"Commander." You stopped her from continuing. "You did all you could. You made the right decision. I wish none of this had happened, but none of this was your fault. It couldn't have been easy to make the choice, and I'm willing to bet that if I were in your shoes, I wouldn't have been strong enough to do it. I'm sure everyone else feels the same exact way, Mark included." You placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Thanks, that's... Thank you," Melissa smiled.

"We're a team, that's what we do. We keep each other grounded."

"That's actually sort of what I wanted to talk to you about..."

"What do you mean?"

"NASA just sent the message a few minutes ago. They're letting us talk to Watney... Directly," Lewis said. You blinked in surprise. No matter how many times you asked, NASA wouldn't allow any kind of direct communication. You wondered why the sudden change of heart.

"Henderson thinks we need to remind him of what he has to look forward to, keep his eyes on the prize so to speak. At least, that's how he's been pitching it to the director. Anyway, the rest of the crew and I agree you should be the one to do it," she finished.

"R-really? I can talk to him?" You asked hopefully, hoping this wasn't a dream.

"Y/N, I can't think of anyone else he would need to hear from more."

~~~

Mark was waiting by the coms in the MAV for any final updates from NASA regarding the meticulous destruction of his ship, piece by piece. He had just finished taking out the main window and it was heavy as hell, even in Mars gravity. He was happy he at least had some time to rest after all that hard work. If he was lucky, maybe they'd wait too long and it would be too dark to get any work done. He could use a good sleep, it seemed like he was needing it more and more lately. Watney suddenly heard the telltale beeps that signaled an incoming message. He was expecting a barrage of questions about his progress, instead he got something so much better.

[19:22] Y/L/N: Hey, Mark.

Mark's voice got caught in his throat.

Y/N.

It had been so fucking long since he talked to you. His eyes burned and his hands shook. Watney leaned his head back in relief, thanking god for this incredible gift. "I just about gave up on you man..." Mark smiled to the sky before nervously typing back.

[19:23] MAV: Y/N!? Holy crap! They're finally letting you talk to me directly?

You released a sigh and covered your face with your hands. He was responding! Really responding! Everyone was looking at you. Beck beamed at you while Martinez watched on with interest. Lewis was waiting to see if you could handle it. No way you were gonna let this one chance slip through your fingers. You sniffed and wiped your eyes before responding.

[19:24] Y/L/N: Yes, NASA just gave the OK for direct communication an hour ago. We're only 35 light-seconds apart, so we can talk in near-real time. Johanssen just set up the system and I'm testing it out.

Mark sighed and smiled. Level headed and professional as always. How you had such self control, he had no idea.

[19:24] MAV: What took them so long to let us talk?

You looked up at Lewis, silently asking if you could relay the truth. She nodded.

[19:25] Y/L/N: The psych team was worried about personality conflicts. [19:25] MAV: Why? Just 'cause you guys abandoned me on a godforsaken planet with no chance of survival?

Mark typed without thinking and as soon as he hit send, he regretted it. He didn't want you to feel bad, It was a joke. You'd understand that right?

[19:26] Y/L/N: Not funny. Don't make me come down there and kick you.

Watney let out a choked laugh. Half a chuckle and half a sob.

[19:26] MAV: God I missed you.

You smiled at the screen and pushed down the urge to hug Martinez behind you. You were really talking to him! He was only 35 light-seconds away! Suddenly you realized you were blessed with an opportunity even more amazing than just talking with him. You could ask him what you had been asking in all of your disregarded emails!

[19:27] Y/L/N: We missed you too. I've had to take over the botany lab. You'll be happy to know I haven't killed any of your plants...Yet. How are you feeling? We've gotten a few updates from NASA regarding your health, but nothing in incredible detail.

Watney chuckled at the text appearing in front of him. 'Cute,' he thought.

[19:27] MAV: Awwww, are you worried about me?

The crew laughed and you shook your head, swiftly adding your response.

[19:28] Y/L/N: Do I really need to answer that?

Mark snickered and decided not to tease you. He wanted to tell you all of his woes and adequately prepare you for how much he had changed. But he didn't want to put a damper on the mood. Luckily, Watney was a master at sugarcoating.

[19:29] MAV: I'm doing okay. My clothing feels a little loose and I'm craving spaghetti. I'm also in desperate need of a shower. Other than that, I'm just fine. Looking forward to seeing you and the rest of the crew.

Your smile fell. You were happy he was being at least somewhat honest, but you knew it was probably worse than he was making out to be. Unfortunately, Watney was a master at sugarcoating.

[19:29] Y/L/N: We're looking forward to seeing you too. I think it's safe to say a big group hug is in order, if I can get Vogel in on it that is.

Watney hummed at the thought of holding you in his arms. The image was so clear, yet so far away.

[19:30] MAV: At this point, I'd even settle for holding hands. Group hug sounds nice. How are you doing Y/N? I wrote you a lot of emails.

You grimaced and thought your next words through very carefully. With the crew watching, it was hard to collect your thoughts.

[19:31] Y/L/N: I wrote you plenty of my own. There was only so much air time to be used outside of helping you survive. My guess is they put priority on Commander Lewis' emails. Rightfully so of course. I'm doing fine. I've missed you a lot. To be honest, a lot is probably a huge understatement. It's hard to express exactly what I want to say over message.

Mark nodded. You watched him presumably die, leave his 'body' behind, mourn his loss over a period of months, find out you left him there alive, be unable to talk to him for about a year, and suddenly he was here reading and responding to your messages, but you have to limit the details so as to keep those private thoughts private. He couldn't imagine what he would do if the roles were reversed. What you wanted to say needed to be kept between you and him. He understood. There was a lot he wanted to say too.

[19:32] MAV: I know what you mean. I'll be there soon, then you can tell me all about it in person. And I'll tell you all about my space crops and my long voyage to the MAV. Have I mentioned I'm a space pirate?

The crew laughed and for a moment, it felt like he was there. Really there.

[19:33] Y/L/N: Good to know you're still the funniest person on Mars. [19:33] MAV: Thanks! [19:33] MAV: Wait a minute! Rude! Don't make me come up there! [19:34] Y/L/N: Don't threaten me with a good time, Watney. [19:34] MAV: ;)

You were about to make some really elaborate emoji out of parentheses and dots, when you saw a notification from NASA. Playtime was over. You scowled as you broke the news to your boyfriend.

[19:34] Y/L/N: I hate to cut this short, but NASA wants us to keep the line open. We'll be in touch asking for updates on your progress, but don't expect too much witty banter.

Mark's heart sank a little, but there was no use in leaving such a perfect night on a sour note.

[19:35] MAV: Figures. NASA never lets me do anything fun! Tell the others I said hi. [19:36] Y/L/N: I'll be sure to pass it along!

Mark's leg tapped nervously. He knew NASA was right about keeping the line open, but he really didn't want it to end yet.

[19:36] MAV: Hey, thanks for coming to get my sorry ass. [19:36] Y/L/N: No thanks necessary. We'd do it a million times over.

Watney knew you meant it. He could feel the warmth through the bland MAV text on the screen. He couldn't wait to be up there with you...But what if something went wrong? Fuck, don't think about this now! Everything's going to be fine! Right? But what if... There was always a chance, especially on Mars, that things would not go your way. And the likelihood of him surviving this mission was slim at best. He needed to tell you. He should have said it a lot more. A whisper here and there in the hallways, maybe some stupid middle school secret code. Like hell he was going to pass up this one chance, consequences be damned.

[19:37] MAV: I love you, Y/N.

Your heart lurched in your chest. The room fell silent. Martinez lightly squeezed your shoulder. Your eyes flitted around the room to your colleagues. All of them stared with bewildered looks on their faces. What were you supposed to say? What if you got him in trouble? If he was worried about that, why would he send this in the first place?

'You know what, Fuck it,' you thought.

Watney watched the screen with baited breath. "Please..." He whispered. "Please."

[19:38] Y/L/N: I love you too Mark. Sleep well, we'll be there before you know it.

Mark released a cry of joy and typed through the tears.

[19:39] MAV: You too. Goodnight. [19:39] Y/L/N: Goodnight, Mark.

The line received no new messages after that. Mark rested there a moment before retreating back to the rover. Once the airlock had engaged, he removed his helmet and admired the picture of you and your brother he had taped to the rover computer.

He used to take those words for granted. Why say it when you could show it? He showed it to you as often as he could... At least he used to. You never made him question it for a second. You gave him compliments, brought him water on late nights, listened to his nerdy ramblings about plants and D&D. He'd help you to bed when you were too tired to stand, work out the knots in your shoulders while you typed. Over a year has passed and your grip on his heart is still firm. And when you said those three little words, all of it made sense again. Mark Watney would never again question the power of I love you. He was going to remind you every chance he got. He was going to ask you for it as often as possible. His mom and dad would hear it in every phone call, and no more excluding his friends. He loved them too. He would say it until the term loses all meaning, then he'd remember this night where I love you saved his life.

Mark took off his gloves and danced his thin fingers over the photograph.

"See you soon, baby..." He whispered, "I love you."

~~~

You pulled on your headset and took a deep, self soothing breath. In an hour, the love of your life was going to be launched into Mars's orbit in what could barely be considered a MAV. The thing was a Frankenstein version of the shuttle you had taken off the planet nearly two years ago.

You shook your head. What Mark needed right now was confidence. You could do that.

"How you feeling Y/L/N?" Martinez smiled over at you.

"Like I'm gonna throw up," You laughed.

"Anxious huh?" He smirked, "For the launch, or for your man?"

"Both," You smacked his arm and rolled your eyes. Martinez and Beck hadn't stopped giving you crap for the I love you texts. You didn't mind too much, it was nice being able to acknowledge that side of your relationship with Mark. Unfortunately it made for some rather awkward conversations with the NASA administrators.

"You got nothing to worry about, he's in good hands," Rick said reassuringly.

"I know, we're all badass trained professionals with years of experience," you chuckled. "I can't help it. I'm built to worry."

"You've checked and double checked the telemetry. Johanssen confirmed all of your calculations. It's going to be a smooth ride for sure."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

//////////

Mark scowled at his reflection in the mirror and stroked his beard. He looked like shit, no way around it. He hadn't taken a moment to really look at himself for a long time and he couldn't say he liked what he saw.

"It's the end of an era," Watney said to nobody as he grabbed the razor. "No more captain blonde-beard."

Mark took his time shaving his chin and trimming the hair on his head. By the end of it, he still looked like shit but slightly less so. He felt a little more like himself at least.

He patted his chest to make sure the picture was still there, tucked under his uniform. It was there, along with his anniversary present to you. He slipped the headset over his ears and turned it on. It was nearly time to go. Watney pulled the suit on over his head and double checked if it was all on securely.

"I'm leaving Mars today, one way or another..." He whispered. "About fucking time."

//////////

"Fuel engine green," Your voice seemed to cause time itself to slow down. Not just for Mark, but for the entire world. "Engine alignment, perfect." Mark closed his eyes took a series of deep breaths, trying in vain to keep his emotions in check. "Communications five by five. We are ready for preflight checklist, Commander."

"Copy." Lewis said. "Mission Control, this is Hermes actual. We will proceed on schedule. we have T minus two minutes, ten seconds to launch... Mark." The commander turned her attention to the man of the hour. "About two minutes Watney. How you doing down there?"

"I'm good." He swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. "I'm anxious to get up to you. Thanks for coming back for me."

You sniffed and shot a smile to Johanssen, who sent you a grin of her own.

"We're going to make it happen. Remember, You'll be pulling some pretty heavy g's. It's okay if you pass out. You're in Martinez's hands."

"Well, tell that asshole no barrel rolls."

"Copy that, MAV."

"CAPCOM."

"Go," you said.

Mark's bottom lip quivered

"Guidance."

"Go," Johanssen said.

"Remote Command."

"Go," Martinez said.

"Telemetry."

"Go," you said again.

He couldn't fight it anymore, he let the tears fall.

"Recovery."

"Go," Beck said.

"Secondary Recovery."

"Go," Vogel said.

"Pilot."

Mark steadied his voice before speaking, "go."

"Mission control, we are go for launch. T minus ten," You said.

"Nine."

"Eight."

"Seven."

"Six."

"Five."

Mark closed his eyes and focused on your voice. "See you in a few, baby..." He whispered.

"Four."

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

The force of the blast was incredible, and growing more painful by the second. His breathing came out short and panicked as the Hab canvas rattled nightmarishly against the MAV. His panic only increased as the canvas ripped from the shuttle, exposing him to the full force of the MAV's thrust. He couldn't even scream. All he could do was watch the sky grow darker and darker.

"Watney." He heard your voice from far away.

"Watney, do you read me?" Your voice called again. His eyes drooped and his vision faded.

//////////

"Watney. Do you read?" You asked in the calmest voice you could muster.

"He's probably passed out. He pulled 12 g's on the ascent. Give him a few minutes," Beck said.

"Copy that." You said and turned your attention on the numbers before you. "I have interval pings. Intercept velocity will be eleven meters per second."

"I can make that work," Beck confirmed.

"Distance at intercept will be....we'll be sixty-eight kilometers apart..." You whimpered and buried your face in your hands.

"Did they say sixty-eight Kilometers? Kilometers?!" Beck cried.

"Keep it together, work the problem. Martinez, any juice left in the MAV?" Lewis asked.

"Negative, Commander."

"Then we'll have to go to him. Y/L/N, time to intercept?"

"Thirty-nine minutes, twelve seconds," You steeled yourself and focused on your coordinates.

"Martinez, what if we point the attitude thrusters all the same direction?" Lewis asked.

"Depends on how much we want to save for the attitude adjustments on the trip home."

"How much do you need?"

"I could get by with maybe twenty percent of what's left. If I use the other eighty percent... We'd get a delta-v of thirty-one meters per second."

"Y/L/N, Math."

"In thirty-nine minutes, we'd deflect....seventy-two kilometers! Use seventy-five point five percent of remaining attitude adjust fuel. That'll bring the intercept range to zero," You did the math quickly.

"Do it." Lewis said.

"Hold your horses, that'll get the range to zero, but the velocity will be forty-two meters per second."

"Then we have thirty-nine minutes to figure out how to slow down. Burn the jets."

//////////

Mark awoke to find himself spinning. Flashes of stars and the red glow of the Martian surface had him feeling a little dizzy. "MAV to Hermes?"

"Watney?" You gasped.

"Affirmative," he grunted.

"What's your status?" You asked calmly.

"Uhhh..." He winced and leaned back in his seat. "My chest hurts. I think I broke a rib. How are you, sweetheart?" He groaned.

"We're working on getting to you," you relayed. "There was a complication in the launch."

"Yeah," Watney dejectedly looked at the massive hole in the roof of his ship. "The canvas didn't hold. I think it ripped early in the ascent."

"That's consistent with what we saw during the launch," Lewis agreed.

"How bad is it, Commander?" he asked.

"We were able to correct the intercept range with Hermes's attitude thrusters, but there's a problem with the intercept velocity."

"How big a problem."

"Forty-two meters per second."

"Well..." Mark paused and tried to wrap his head around that number. "Shit."

//////////

You typed furiously, staring at your screen unblinkingly as you worked through all the possible ways to bring down the velocity.

"Hey, I've got an idea," Watney said.

"Of course you do, what have you got?" Lewis asked.

"I could find something sharp in here and poke a hole in my EVA suit. I could use the escaping air as a thruster and fly my way to you. The source of thrust would be on my arm, so I'd be able to control it pretty easily."

"How does he come up with this shit?" Martinez laughed.

"I can't see you having any control if you did. You'd be eyeballing the intercept using a thrust vector you can barely control."

"I admit it's fatally dangerous, but consider this: I'd get to fly around like Iron Man."

"We'll keep working on ideas," Lewis said.

"Iron Man, Commander. Iron Man."

"Stand by," Lewis temporarily cut contact with Watney.

You furrowed your brows at the screen, waiting for the correct course of action to jump out at you. Suddenly, there it was. "Wait! that's it!" you looked back at the Commander. "Mark's a genius! We could use the ship's atmosphere as thrust. We could blow the vehicular airlock. Seal the bridge and the reactor room. Iron Man... But bigger!"

"....." Melissa stared at you for a moment before addressing Alex. "Vogel?"

"Yes commander?"

"I need you to come inside and make a bomb," she ordered.

~~~

"I have visual, I can see the MAV," Beck said. "Jesus Mark, what did you do to that thing?"

"You should see the rover," Mark radioed. He was ready to get out of his goddamned chair, ready to get away from this hunk of junk that could barely be considered a MAV.

"Call out my velocity to Mark every two seconds or so," Chris said.

"Copy." You responded.

"Hey Beck, the front's wide open. I'll get up there and be ready to grab at you." Watney said.

"Negative, no untethered movement. Stay strapped to your chair until you're attached to Beck."

"Copy." Mark huffed. Lewis was right, impatience would be the death of him out here and he had come too far to die now. Instead, he focused on your voice calling out the relative velocity.

"Three point one meters per second."

"Eleven meters to target."

"Six meters."

"Contact." Beck grabbed the canvas of the destroyed MAV. "Firm contact."

"You have fourteen seconds Dr. Beck."

"Copy."

Nothing could have prepared Watney for how he'd feel seeing Beck's helmet poking through the opening.

Pure. Unadulterated. Serotonin.

"Visual on Watney!"

"Visual on Beck!"

"How ya doin' man?" Beck pushed himself toward Mark, meanwhile Mark was trying not to have another emotional breakdown.

"I....I just...Give me a minute, you're the first person I've seen in eighteen months," Watney croaked.

"We don't have a minute," Beck clumsily collided with Mark. "Contact with Watney... Connected!"

"Restraints off," Watney called.

"We're outta here!"

//////////

"Houston, this is Hermes actual. Seven crew safely aboard," Lewis's voice echoed in your mind as you, Martinez, Johanssen, and Lewis pushed yourselves toward the airlock where Vogel and Beck were bringing him in.

Mark.

You could see his dusty helmet from the small window on the airlock. Already you were feeling an overwhelming ache deep in your chest. There he was, only a few feet away, behind this door. Your crewmates flew in and clambered for Watney.

"Hey guys!" He laughed.

You were frozen in the doorway.

His helmet came off.

Everything slowed down.

Everyone was smiling and laughing. High fiving. Quick hugs. They all wanted to get as far away from the smell as they could.

Your eyes met.

There were beads of what looked like water floating in the air. When did you start crying?

Mark held out his arms to you and you wasted no more time. He hugged you as tightly as he could with the bulky arms of his EVA suit. His face buried into your neck as he cried softly. "Y/N...." He whispered in a broken voice. "Y-Y/N?"

"I'm right here Mark... Right here." You cradled the back of his head, scratching that spot at the base of his neck. He always liked it when you did that

"I stink, don't I?" Watney laughed in between sobs.

"You do. You really do," You tried to keep up the joke. "But if im being completely honest, I couldn't possibly care less," you laughed.

Slowly, you pulled back so you could get a good look at his face. He was thin. Gaunt, and covered in bed sores. That should have been expected of course, It's not like he had anywhere to shower in the rover. He looked at you like you were an angel. He looked embarrassed, like he wanted to hide.

Your fingers danced over his cheek and his eyes fluttered closed at the tenderness. The crew watched on with pride and varying degrees of bashfulness.

Mark opened his eyes and stared at you pleadingly as orbs of tears flowed from their corners. "Y/N... Please..." He whispered.

You didn't hesitate for a second.

You grabbed the sides of Mark's face and smashed your lips against his. So soft... your hands are so soft and your lips are trembling. The heat of your skin, the scent of your hair. It was even better than he remembered. He couldn't breathe, he could barely even think. He wanted so desperately to kiss you back, to fall into your embrace until there's no space left between, but his ribs hurt like hell and his suit was in the way. Mark whimpered as your fingers tangled into his hair. Fuck. Fuck. 'Everything hurts baby, please don't stop kissing me,' he pleaded in his head. 'Don't stop.'

When you started pulling away, he reached out to pull you closer again, but winced when he moved his arm.

"Slow down, baby." You breathed and pressed a little smooch to his forehead.

"Alright love birds, I need to get Iron Man over here to sick bay."

"But-" Watney protested.

"No buts, you need an X-ray and a shower. Maybe three." Beck laughed.

Mark looked at you pleadingly and you caressed his face. "I'll be by once Beck fixes you up. I gotta help check the ship for damage. Okay?"

He nodded and smiled. "Don't miss me too much~"

"You seek the impossible, Watney." You kissed his forehead again and let Chris lead your Martian down the hall to his quarters.

"Wow," Martinez said "I can't decide if that was incredibly romantic or incredibly awkward."

"Shut up Martinez," You playfully shoved his shoulder.

"Honestly though, he smells terrible! You've got some nerves of steel, Y/L/N," Johanssen joked.

"My boyfriend just spent eighteen months alone on a remote planet, If he wants a kiss he's gonna get that goddamned kiss. Definitely not a quick one and definitely not a half-assed one. But I will say one thing," you grinned.

"What's that?" Lewis smirked.

"He's not getting another one until he brushes his teeth."

~~~

Mark settled into his bunk after what felt like hours. He finally had a bath. Five, in fact. The showers were on a timer to conserve water. He had to run that timer five times before he finally felt clean. The water hurt the sores on his skin, but he felt so much better afterward that he almost wanted to go in for a sixth one. Mark brushed his teeth about three times and got rid of all the tangles in his hair. He'd need someone to touch up the cutting job he did. Now that it was all brushed out, it looked astoundingly bad.

After his long grooming session, Beck took an X-ray and determined that he'd broken two ribs. Chris bandaged him up, gave him some pain medicine, made him eat, and sent him to bed for some well deserved rest. At first, Mark protested. He hated the idea of everyone else fixing the ship while their lead engineer was taking a nap. But he was painfully tired and painfully...well... in pain.

Hey! His bunk didn't smell like shit! That's a huge upgrade from his bunk in the Hab- no more thinking about that place.

With a deep groan, Watney eased himself into bed. Weird...his sheets smelled like you. He didn't mind of course, you always smelled nice. He had never been more thankful for the centripetal force spinning the ship. He would have hated having broken ribs in zero g's. He imagined trying to sleep with his body constantly moving ever so slightly. Sounded like hell to him.

Mark wondered what the others were doing. He hoped there wasn't something too terribly wrong with the ship. The subtle groans of metal didn't ease his nerves. He was never scared of the Hermes before, but he was just now coming to terms with that fact that the ship had taken some serious abuse over the past few months, not to mention the past few hours. Normally Hermes would undergo maintenance after each mission, but because they turned around to get him that maintenance was scrapped.

New fear unlocked: Dooming his team to die in space because they had to turn around and get him.

He almost thought the knocking on his door was the hull breaking apart into a billion little bite-sized pieces.

"Come in," he said.

He expected it to be Beck checking in on him, but he was relieved when you poked your head in with a shy smile.

"Heyyyy, look over there! It's the world's handsomest boyfriend!" You said with gusto.

"You are such a kiss ass," Mark laughed, which hurt his ribs, which made him laugh again from how pitiful he must look.

You scoffed as you stepped into his quarters, shutting the door behind you. "You calling me a liar?" you grabbed a loose storage box and used it as a chair so you could sit beside his bed.

"That's exactly what I'm calling you," he smirked. "Seriously. Have you seen me lately? I look like a... a popsicle stick with a bad haircut."

You looked him up and down. His sores looked a lot better after cleaning them. You had no doubt they would heal nicely. The malnourishment on the other hand... That might take some work. You and Beck already had a few dietary plans for him. You discussed it while you reorganized the chow hall. Still, Mark was the most beautiful person you had ever seen. Even now, those alluring blue eyes were mesmerizing you. And let's not forget that goddamned tantalizing smile.

"I'm looking at you right now, babe," You giggled.

"And?"

"You're still as gorgeous as ever. Just a gorgeous man who's been through some shit," you carded your fingers through his hair. Mark hummed and closed his eyes. "How are you feeling?" you whispered.

"Physically or emotionally?"

"Both."

"Emotionally, happy. Very happy. Best day of my life kind of happy," he smiled. "Physically, pretty shitty. The medicine hasn't kicked in."

"Anything I can do to help you feel better?" you asked warmly.

Watney sent you a smug look, "Oh, I can think of a few things that might help~"

"Not until your ribs are healed."

"Damn."

You leaned down and pushed his hair back so you could kiss his forehead. He gave you a dazed grin, "oh, what do you know? I feel better already," he whispered in a gravelly voice. "... I really missed you..."

"I missed you too Mark..."

"I can't believe I can... I can feel you again. I can hear you and see you and feel you... s'insane..." He reached up and cupped your cheek despite the pain. "You were always on my mind. I-I just really wanted... I wanted to make it back to you." He brought his thumb just under your eye to catch a stray tear.

You covered his hand with yours and pressed a kiss to his palm.

"I-I don't even know what to say... I've been feeling so much, I don't know how to... how to-" He swallowed hard.

"Everything's changed so fast," you reassured him. "But we aren't on the messaging system anymore. It's a long journey home, we have plenty of time to find the right words," you continued to run your fingers into his hair.

"I fucking love you... " he closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling of your nails against his scalp. "I'm gonna marry you one day, decided just now."

"Just now?" You snickered.

"No...Realistically, it was the first night we uh... slept together. Do you remember that?" Watney chuckled.

"Of course I do," you smiled, thinking of his messy blonde hair, searing gaze, and strong arms. He took his time with you that night, unhurried, attentive, and unabashedly vocal. "How could I forget?"

Mark shook his head and looked away to hide his blush, but not even his smile could distract you from it. "Sorry, sorry. Go on, continue!"

"Well, I uh..." He let out a sheepish chuckle. "Obviously every part of that night was perfect, but it's what happened after that really changed things."

"Oh?" you leaned closer, curiosity getting the better of you.

"You let me be the little spoon. I'm fine with being the big spoon most of the time, but you gotta be the little spoon sometimes, you know? No one ever let me be the little spoon before you... And when I woke up, you were still holding me." His fingertips danced down your arm, leaving a trail of chills in their wake. Once he reached your hand, Mark intertwined your fingers. It wasn't a conscious movement for him, simply muscle memory. But you couldn't keep your mind off of it. "I know I goof around a lot, but I can't stress how serious I'm being when I say... I have never felt that loved before. It was just... such a perfect night. I knew that you were the one for me well before, but that was the first time I really saw my future flash before my eyes like that."

Your eyes stung a little as you tenderly kissed his lips. "Want to know when I decided?" you whispered against him.

"Please..." He whispered back.

"Remember when I had that terrible flu during the first year of our training program?"

"Oh damn, yeah I do! You looked terrible, baby." Mark teased.

"I felt terrible. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and I definitely couldn't go to lectures... I was so worried about missing, even though the professors agreed there was no way I could come to class. You brought me a copy of your notes. The copy machine in the library was down, so you had to write them by hand... you even filled them with these horrible stick figure drawings," you laughed and Mark brought your knuckles to his lips and watched you, immersed in the sound of your voice. It was like he was trying to commit you to memory. You were doing much the same.

"Anyway, you stayed with me and you made some Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup. You stopped by everyday until I got better."

"We were just friends back then," he whispered against your hand.

"I know, but every time I think about how much I love you... that memory comes back, playing on repeat."

"Say that again."

"That again," you smirked. Mark gave you a sassy eyebrow. "Which part babe?" you laughed.

"The uh..." he trailed off.

You lightly kissed his cheek, "I love you, Mark... I love you so much." You peppered his face with little smooches. When you finally pulled back, he was all red again and teary eyed.

"I love you too, Y/N," He whispered. You sat together in silence for awhile before Mark suddenly remembered something extremely important! "Oh shit! I almost forgot!" He winced as he reached into his pocket. "Happy late four year anniversary!" He finally presented you with his gift.

Your fingers trembled as you took the little rock into your hands. Mark's Martian heart stared back up at you, dusting your palm orange.

"Y-you remembered our anniversary?"

"Of course I remembered! Have I ever forgotten before?" Mark smirked.

"N-no, but..." You couldn't help it, you were crying again god dammit. "Thank you Mark, I love it." You beamed and kissed him so hard he lost his entire train of thought. He sighed and pulled you closer like he had wanted to do hours ago. Fuck. There you go again, playing with his hair like it wasn't going to rile him up. He moaned and reached for your waist, only to be pulled swiftly back to reality by the jarring pain in his abdomen. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Mark." You pulled away quickly.

"It wasn't you, I was getting too carried away." He winced and took a deep breath. "My bad," Watney laughed.

You sat down on the crate beside his bed and settled for playing with his hand. While you took inventory of every new callus, Mark once again saw his future flash right before his eyes. You and him and that little house with the green shutters. He's gonna have the best garden in the neighborhood, you'll have all the time in the world for reading. No potatoes. No disco.

"Y/N... Can you hold me?"

"Oh baby, I would love to but the beds are so small-"

"Ouch, oof, oh! ow!" He scooted closer to the wall to make room for you.

You sighed and shook your head. "Mark, your ribs-"

"Please..." he whispered. Dammit! What are you supposed to do when he gives you the puppy eyes!? Beck is going to kill you...

"I can't ever say no to you, can I?" You laughed and scooted into the bed. "Seriously, you've got me wrapped around your finger."

Mark smiled as you tucked yourself into his side. He wanted to be the little spoon, but he couldn't turn over so his back was against your chest. He'd just have to heal quickly, then he could freely snuggle, (and do other things) without any constraints!

He turned his head so he could admire your lovely, beautiful face. You were already looking back at him, one hand holding your rock close to your chest, the other was draped carefully over his waist. Mark swears he's never seen anything more breathtaking in his life.

He slowly leaned closer- Fuck! His ribs hurt so bad, where the hell is the Vicodin when you need it?

You gently smoothed out the crease between his brows with your thumb and pushed his hair back again. Mark closed his eyes, succumbing to the bliss that came with knowing he would never be alone again. You kissed him again and pulled his blanket over the both of you.

"I love you, Mark."

"I love you too."

He felt your hand slip under his shirt and onto his stomach. You drew soft shapes onto his skin, but stopped when you felt the scar just above the hem of his pants. It was jagged and angry.

He swallowed.

Much to his surprise and relief, you didn't pull your hand away. You just kept tracing the new territory.

He sighed and kissed your temple. His body shuddered in relief. "Th-this isn't a dream, right? You'll still be here when I wake up?" he whispered.

You peeked your head up and smiled "I'm not going anywhere, I'm afraid you're stuck with me." You leaned in and gave him one more kiss. He smiled into it and finally allowed himself to rest his eyes.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Y/L/N..."

#mark watney #watney #Mark Watney x reader #The Martian x reader #x reader #reader fanfiction #reader insert #the martian #watney x reader #mark watney fanfiction #mark watney / reader #watney/reader

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swiss-mrs · 3 months

Text

Chapter 3: Time of My Life

Life Eternal Series

Eddie Munson x Rockstar!POC!Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

*Masterlist, Series Warnings, Additional Series/Reader Info, and Posting Schedule.*

Chapter Warnings: Slow Burn, Domestic Duo

“You excited, man?” Steve asks while he drives. Eddie scoffs.

“Excited feels like an understatement. I get to go to New York AND visit the best person ever? Yeah, there's no words to describe.” Eddie replies happily.

“Hey!” Dustin pipes in from the backseat. “Best person?” Steve rolls his eyes at Dustin.

“Dustin, Sometimes, when a man loves a woman-”

“Woah!” “Woah!” “Woah!” Dustin and Eddie shout over each other simultaneously. Steve smirks.

“No one said anything about love.” “I don't wanna get that talk from you!” They talk over each other again. Steve scoffs in disbelief.

“You're joking, right? Helen Keller could see what's going on here.” Steve says to Eddie, ignoring Dustin. “You two have been talking on the phone damn near daily for months, and now that rockstar is inviting you on an all expense included, paid trip to visit them at their house in New York.” Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve's correct assumption. “Don't act like you aren't pining over her. Did you forget I was there when you two talked for 4 hours straight at a bar where all of your respective friends were, yet you ignored everyone around you? You can thank me for the help at your wedding.” Steve dismisses. Eddie couldn't ignore the thumping in his chest. Steve wasn't all wrong. He was definitely crushing on you, hard, but he be damned if he admitted that right now. It was too early to call. He was falling too hard too fast. If he were to get rejected…

“Oh, mind your business, Steve. Eddie hit it off with a famous rockstar who sees his talent. This is a great opportunity for him! He gets to see the Big Apple AND write music for a rock album that's bound to be album of the year!” Dustin exclaims, only adding to Eddie's racing heart.

Dustin and Steve continue bickering as they drive up to the Departures curb. Steve throws the car in park and gets out with Eddie, Dustin not too far behind. Steve opens up the trunk, still bickering with the kid. Eddie grabs his suitcase and guitar case from the trunk. “Will you two shut up already!” Eddie yells, grabbing their attention. Dustin's expression changes as he focuses in on Eddie, and he rushes in to engulf Eddie in a hug. It shocks Eddie at first, but he is soon to give in and return the hug. “Don’t forget to bring me back something.” Dustin says. Eddie chuckles and pats his back.

“Will do, little man. Will do.” They pull away from each other, and he and Steve make eye contact.

“I’m not hugging you.” Steve says, holding up a hand and turning his head. Eddie rolls his eyes with an amused scoff.

“Whatever, pretty boy. I wouldn’t want to mess up your hair.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Thanks for the ride.” Steve softens and shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s my job as chauffeur.” He shrugs. Steve gets taken off guard as Eddie gives him a quick side hug, before running off into the airport.

“See ya!” Eddie calls back, waving as he disappears into the building, Dustin waving wildly in return.

Eddie gets through TSA as quickly as possible. Since he was flying out on a Wednesday afternoon, the airport was near empty. As he sits at his gate, awaiting for his plane to board, he pulls out his old walkman. He would sometimes get looks when he pulls out the thing, but since his van only reads tapes, using Wayne’s old walkman was most efficient so he wasn’t buying doubles of every album he listened to.

He digs through his backpack, finally reaching what he was looking for, Cydonia’s debut album, Martian. He smiles at the tape, running his thumb over the cover art. Ever since your concert in Indiana, he has been listening to your two albums religiously. It was almost addicting. He loved the sound of your voice. He loved how your music introduced him to new sounds. Listening to your debut album intrigued him. It was a message for all those who were at the bottom of the food chain. It was a call to let your darkness shine, and he already proudly wore the word ‘Freak’ on his back. It would have definitely been his anthem in his high school days. His music induced trance was slightly broken when he noticed the gate doors open and the attendant started calling out for those to board.

Eddie collected his carry-on, his tattered red and black backpack, and stood to start boarding. He was one of few on the plane. As he made his way down the aisle, everything just became more and more real for him. He was suddenly struck by a hard pounding in his chest. His first time flying anywhere was going to the festival performance with metallica. That time he had Dustin to distract him. This is his first time flying solo, and he was really starting to feel his anxiety peak. He gladly sat in an empty row, halfway down the plane, and took a window seat. He figured sitting by the window would make him feel less suffocated. As soon as he was seated, he turned on the little fan above him and closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat, gripping the arm rests. He started taking big deep breaths and focused on your voice in his ears. He gripped the arm rests until his knuckles were white and squeezed his eyes harder when he felt the plane rattling during take off, but as soon as they were in the air and everything became near weightless, he relaxed a bit. He held the thought of seeing you in his mind to keep him calm. Eventually, he opened his eyes again and dared to look out the window, met with a serene view of the sun dancing along the clouds. He started to smile to himself. ‘I’m on my way, Superstar.’

》》》

As soon as Eddie landed at Newark, he felt like he was able to breathe normally again. He quickly filed off the plane and made his way to baggage claim. As he rode down the escalator, he was met with a sight he didn’t expect. In the middle of the floor was a hooded person with sunglasses on holding up a black poster board with red writing on it. ‘Eddie Munson (aka Rockstar)’ it read, and you were holding it, a smug grin on your face. Eddie smiled widely, deciding the machine was moving a bit too slow for him and began quickly walking down. “Pick up for Eddie Munson?” You said in a dramatically deep voice as he got a little closer. Eddie laughed and took four large steps over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up into the air, spinning around with you in his arms, causing you to shriek in surprise. “My glasses!” you yelled as they fell off your face and to the floor with a clack.

“Hey there, Superstar.” He laughed out, finally setting you down. “I wasn’t expecting to get picked up by the one and only.” He says with a big, happy smile. You scoff with face offense.

“I’ll make sure to send a limo next time.” Eddie shakes his head.

“No, I quite like getting to see you first thing.” He squats down to pick up your dark sunglasses. Instead of handing them back, he slides them onto his own face, grabbing your hand and leading you over to his baggage claim terminal.

“Excuse me, sir. I kind of need those.” He ignores you. “Okay, but it’s your vault if we get mobbed.” You respond, causing him to chuckle. He shrugs.

“It’ll be good practice for the,” pauses to turn around and hold up his hands, wiggling his fingers, “zombie apocalypse.” he finished in a deep, dramatically ‘spooky’ voice. You roll your eyes with an amused expression. He smiles and turns back around to search for his guitar and suitcase. You quickly miss the warmth of his hand as soon as it’s gone. You watch as Eddie waits and scans the circling conveyor belt for his luggage. You stand back not wanting to get in the way of others searching. As you wait with crossed arms, two teenage looking girls are walking passed, one of them lifting their head from the magazine they were both gawking over. She does a double tak, slapping her friend’s arm several times before nodding in our direction. You watch on through the corner of your eye, knowing what’s coming.

“Hi, sorry,” One of the girls with tricolor hair, dyed pink, purple, and blue, looked up to you with starstruck eyes, “You’re the lead singer of Cydonia, right?” You look to the other girl who had glasses, dyed black hair, and a pink, white and blue pin on the strap of the backpack on her shoulder.

“That’s me.” You say with a small smile. They look to each other for a moment, trying and failing to contain their excitement.

“Oh my gosh, we saw you in concert last year when you performed at Terminal 5-”

“You guys were awesome-”

“We love you music-”

“You inspire me so much-”

“You are a queer icon-”

“We love you-” They talk over each other, back to back. You chuckle, holding up a hand to slow them down.

“Thank you for your support. It means a lot.” You smile. They squeal like little piglets.

“Can we get a photo with you?” “Can you sign my CD player?” They say, again talking over one another. You chuckle and nod.

“Sure.” The girl with the dyed hair reaches into her crossbody purse for her disposable camera as the girl with glasses reaches in her large hoodie pocket for her CD player.

“I can take the photo for you.” A voice interrupts, Eddie. The girls look over their shoulder at him, looking at each other with a look, then both nod their heads.

“Yes, please!” They say simultaneously. You look at them suspiciously, wondering what that look was for before they turn to stand on either side of you, readying for the photo. You drape your arms over the smaller girls’ shoulders, and they lean in to hug your middle “Oh my gosh, you smell good.” “I knew it!” they say over each other, causing you to shake your head and chuckle at their antics. Eddie brings the camera up to his face. You can’t help but think how cute it is when he scrunches his face up to peek through the lens. It brings a genuine, soft smile from you.

“Say cheese!”

“Cheeeessseeee.” The two girls repeat, causing your smile to get bigger as you release another small laugh through your nose. Eddie snaps the photo. He lifts his head quickly to raise up two fingers.

“Another one just in case.” They stay holding your middle in a hug, but instead of smiling, you scrunch your nose and hold up rock-and-roll signs with your hands. The two girls do their respective ‘funny faces’, and Eddie snaps the second photo. “Nice.” He lowers the camera and the two girls release you, backing away a little. The one with glasses brings up her silver CD player and a red sharpie to hold in front of you. You grab the sharpie from her and help hold the CD player stable in her hand. You do a quick autograph.

“Can you also sign my magazine?” the tri-colored hair girl asks, holding up a copy of the same magazine you caught Eddie with all those weeks ago. You nod, giving her a ‘no problem’ and signing your name on the cover. They both struggle to hide their excitement.

“Thank you!” They both repeat over and over.

“No problem. Have a great trip or welcome home.” You smile as they give goodbyes and walk away holding onto each other. You look at Eddie. He has a smug look on his face, eyes hidden by your dark sunglasses.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You roll your eyes. “Let’s go.” You turn, and he just smiles, grabbing his things, jogging to meet up with you.

As soon as you both make it outside, Eddie is greeted with a crisp gust of wind through his curls. It’s chilly but sunny out. He follows you across the few lanes to the parking lot. Once in the parking garage, he lifts the sunglasses from his eyes and uses them to push back his bangs. You lead him across a few isles. In the middle of the empty lanes, away from the few cars parked closer to the entrance, sat a shiny, black beauty that is a-

“1967 Ford Mustang Fastback?!” Eddie nearly drops his guitar. You smirk, your back to him as you continue to walk to the backside of the car, unlocking the trunk. You look over to him. Eddie still stalled a few feet away from you.

“You comin’?” You tease. He scoffs, speechless.

“No fucking way this is your car.” He says in disbelief, starting up his walk again, closing in on you by the trunk.

“No, we’re stealing it. I actually pickpocketed those girls earlier.” You quip sarcastically, popping open the trunk.

“Well, in that case, can I drive?.” He quips back, stowing away his luggage into the empty trunk.

“No.” He pouts, and you both round the car and get in on your respective sides. Eddie is equally entranced by the all black interior as he was the exterior, “Can you even drive stick?” He whips to look at you, clearly offended.

“Can I even drive stick?! What do I look like?!” You laugh at his dramatic response. “I drive a ‘78 van for god’s sake.” He turns in his seat and mutters to himself, “‘Can you drive stick?‘ Pfft.” He mocks. You continue to laugh, turning over the ignition. Eddie takes your sunglasses off his head and puts them on the dash.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I shouldn’t have poked the bear.” As soon as the car starts, the song you were listening to on the way to the airport continues. Eddie’s eyes nearly pop out of his head.

“You listen to Slayer too?! Jesus Christ I’m gonna combust.” He reaches for the grab handle above his window. He looked like he was going to pass out, sinking down into his seat. You laugh.

“You are so dramatic, Eddie Munson.” He pulls himself up, sitting properly.

“I was rejected from drama club for being too good, you know. That’s why I had to start my own cult.” He wiggles his brows.

“I doubt it was for that reason.” You scoff, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yet, I believe it.” You shrug. “Eddie Munson, the theater kid reject.” You say, lifting your hand and gesturing as if reading off a sign. He plays fake hurt, clutching his invisible pearls.

“Never have I.” He says in a posh, feminine accent. You laugh at his forced accent.

“Alright, Queen Elizabeth. Let’s go.” You both buckle up before you switch gears and start pulling out of the parking lot.

》》》

On the drive to your home in Nyack, you ensure to take the ‘long way’, going through the city a little bit. Eddie spent the entire two hour drive looking out the window in awe. The drive was silent between you two, the only noise being your music and the humming of your engine. It was nice. Eddie’s childlike wonder brough the magic back to New York. Not even the bits of traffic you hit could dull the mood.

When you were on the open freeway, leaving the city, you were able to speed up a bit. Eddie made an off-handed comment about how sexy the car sounded, bubbling a laugh out of you. You exited off the freeway early, again, not bothering to take the quickest route as you silently let Eddie sightsee through the car window. When you’re finally pulling into your neighborhood, Eddie speaks up. “Ho-ly shit.” He sighs, gaping through the front windshield. “This is where you live?” He asks breathlessly. You let out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, not too bad, is it?” you ask rhetorically.

“It’s alright.” He fires back with a smirk, playing along. You spare him a quick glance. He goes back to watching the beautiful houses go by. “Not gonna lie. I mean, I didn’t know what I was thinking, but I wasn’t expecting this.”

“What? Were you expecting a 5 story, 200 bedroom luxury castle?” You ask. He scoffs.

“I don’t know, but this is even better.” He looks over to you, “It fits.” he says with a small smile, staring at your smiling profile for a few seconds too long. He turns his focus out the window as you turn into your driveway. “It’s nice, obviously expensive, but cozy.” The barrier separating your driveway from the street was a long row of trees that created a natural gate around the property. You drive in a little, passing through an actual gate, metal and gothic. The house could finally be seen in all its true glory.

The old stone driveway led to a two story, brick house with red accents and black shutters. The house was in the middle of a five acre lot surrounded by a thick, tree fence. The old brick structure stood strong, slightly overtaken by the nature around it, vines climbing up the walls. The lot itself was well-maintained but not artificially manicured. Clearly someone cared for the land, but they ensured not to kill the native vegetation around it for the sake of neatness. It was far from cookiecutter. It was unique and well-loved. It fits you well.

You drive up to the top of the long driveway, parking your prized vehicle in the two car garage next to the house. Though it was an obvious post-construction addition, it was clearly made to replicate the historic home’s aesthetic. “Home sweet home.” you say as you unbuckle your seatbelt, Eddie unbuckling soon after. You open your door and make your way to the trunk of your car. Eddie gets out of the car and looks out the open garage door and takes in the view of the front half of your property. Jesus, this place was amazing. The pop of the trunk lock grabs Eddie’s attention as you open the lid and go to grab his bags.

“Ah ah ah!” he stops you. “I’m a big boy. Let me get it.” You raise your hands in surrender and back up a little. “What kind of man would I be, letting you take my bags.” You shake your head.

“Okay, fine. I get it. I was just trying to be a gentleman.” you let out a soft laugh. Eddie shakes his head as he loads himself up with his backpack, tattered suitcase and solid guitar case.

“Not on my watch, superstar.” he tilts his head and gives you a big grin. You roll your eyes and close the trunk door.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get inside.” You close the garage and lead him to the side door. The side door opens to an enclosed, glass corridor that attaches to the house. You open the door that leads inside, holding it open for Eddie. It leads straight into the kitchen. The kitchen kept the same cohesive aesthetic as the outside of the house, dark, warm, cozy. “I’ll show you to your room, and while you settle in, I can start getting dinner ready.” You smile at him over your shoulder as you make your way around the kitchen island and into the open living area. You then lead him down a hall next to the set of stairs leading the the second floor. There are four doors down this hall. One at the end of the hall leading to the back yard, on to the left, under the stairs, the guest bathroom, you acknowledge. The first door to the right is the guest bedroom, where Eddie will be staying. The bedroom is huge compared to his back at home. It’s at least worth two of his bedroom plus an ensuite. “Here we are.” You say with arms wide open as you walk through the door. You walk further into the room, Eddie standing by the door. You spin and face him with your open arms. “This is you.” You drop your arms to your sides with a smack, before looking over to the bed. “I put on fresh sheets and blankets. Even got you some new pillows. I don’t have guests that often, so I hope everything is okay.” You say a bit shyly and shrug. Eddie walks in to rest his guitar case on the nightstand next to the bed and drops his backpack. He then rolls his suitcase up to the empty space next to the nightstand and rests it against the wall. He steps back and walks around the room in awe. “Well…?”

“This place is amazing.” He sighs out. He chuckles and then focuses his attention on you. He gives you a big smile from across the room before running and diving onto the bed. He bounces a few times from his hard landing then lays on his side, bending one of his legs up and resting his head on one hand. He wiggles his brows at you with the same goofy grin on his face. You shake your head with raised brows and a small laugh. Eddie then plops back, spread out over the king sized bed. He sighs heavily, “This is amazing. I don’t know how to thank you.” Your smile grows, and your eyes find the ground below your feet.

“No need. You’re here to help me, remember? It’s the least I can do.” Eddie pops up to rest on his elbows, but you continue before he protests. “I’ll be out in the kitchen cooking us dinner. Make yourself at home, rockstar.” You turn to walk out the door, “Let me know if you need anything.” you call out over your shoulder, disappearing around the corner. Eddie continues to watch the spot where you once were. He smiles to himself before plopping back down.

“This is the best day ever.” He whispers to himself before cloning his eyes, accidentally dozing off.

》》》

“Eddie?” You call out before rounding the corner to his room. You stop in your tracks when you notice him sprawled out, exactly where you left him. Soft snores echo in the room, causing a subconscious smile to break out on your face. You walk up to the bedside with soft footsteps. “Eddie?” you say softly. He stirs a bit in his sleep. You reach out to shake his shoulder, and he pops up. You jump back, startled. “Eddie.” He whips his head to look at you with wide eyes. You smile and let out a small laugh. “Dang, there goes my surprise attack.” You say sarcastically. He raises a brow.

“Can’t sneak up on me.” He says with a yawn. You let out another small laugh and push him.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say. Dinner is ready. I hope you’re hungry! I brought you some house slippers.” You lift up a pair of dark gray slip-on shoes and place them on the floor next to his luggage. “I hope they fit okay. Now, wash up and get changed into some PJs. We’re having a chill night. Sunset looks amazing in the sunroom right now.” You turn to walk out.

“Yes, ma’am!” Eddie calls back as you round the corner. He hops up off the bed and walks over to his suitcase. He lays it out and opens it up, pulling out some black pajama pants and a Blastoff Festival t-shirt he got from the night he met you. Eddie stands and goes into the ensuite to change and wash his hands. He splashes some water on his face to rid himself of any evidence of his nap. You had an entire guest basket of toiletries next to the sink. He smiles at how thoughtful you are. He spots a new pack of black, silk scrunchies and pops one out its packaging, throwing his wild hair into a bun at the crown of his head.

Eddie walks out of the room, down the hall, and rounds the stairs, heading to the kitchen. You could be heard rummaging around and grabbing dishes. He just about enters the kitchen right as you’re exiting. Thankfully, you both catch yourselves before running into each other. “Holy fuck.” You breathe out a little laugh as your heart starts to calm. Eddie looks down at the plates in your hands with wide eyes.

“Holy Shit!” You laugh nervously, not knowing how to take his reaction at first. “You made this!?” His gaze switches to your wide, innocent eyes.

“Yeah?” You laugh out.

“This looks amazing!” He takes a big whiff, “And it smells even better!” A huge smile forms on his face and you give him a proud smile, blushing ever so slightly.

“Thank you.” You reply with your head held high.

“Here, let me help you.” He says and goes to reach for the plates but you move them away.

“No, no. I got these. Grab the drinks?” You say with a small smirk. He drops his hands and bites back a smile. He makes his way around to the two cups and larger glass jug that waited on the kitchen island. You wait for him in the archway as he grabs everything else and starts following you. You lead him to a room at the back of your house, on the opposite side of the stairs than his room. You pass through the door frame that leads to the open space and gently place the two plates on the table. Once again, Eddie pauses for a little after walking into the new room, taking it in.

The walls and ceiling were all panes of glass like a greenhouse. Inside, there are a few plants littered around and a comfy looking couch in the middle with a wooden coffee table just in front of the couch. In the corner of the room was a plush sofa chair that had a small table next to it and a pretty, royal blue, semi-acoustic guitar leaning up against the table. Due to the time of day, the sun was setting perfectly over the trees and field that is your yard. It creates a warm glow in the room. The sight is surreal, ethereal, calm. “This is like my safe space.” You break his trance. “Especially this time of day.” His eyes find you. You’ve taken your seat on the couch and were waiting for him to sit down next to you.

You had a soft smile and were looking up at him with the most warm eyes. The warmth of the sunset made you glow. Eddie nearly dropped everything he was holding at the sight of you, finally taking you in. Half of your hair is tied back with a few shorter pieces falling onto your face, the rest cascading down your back. The sun brought out the lighter shades in your hair and the richness of your skin. The slightest bit of mascara and eyeliner you had on was now a little smudged, smoking out around your eyes. You had changed from your airport clothes to black and dark gray, plaid pajama pants and a black, pullover hoodie that was about 3 sizes too big. You had taken off your slippers to sit cross legged on the couch, revealing a pair of brightly colored, patterned socks, the best contrast to your outfit. You pat the empty spot next to you. Eddie smiles wide and quickly makes his way over.

He sets down the cups on the coasters you have out and takes it upon himself to pour your drinks. “I hope you don’t mind just sitting and eating. I don’t have a TV in here.” Eddie shakes his head, still holding his smile.

“I don’t mind. We can just talk and eat.” He places the glass container down and smiles over to you, infecting your face with a big smile. You nod in response before breaking eye contact and looking down at the food. You reach down to grab your plate and silverware.

“Bone apple teeth.” You say before digging in, Eddie laughing and doing the same.

You two talked for hours even after you finished eating, well after the sun went down. You went back and forth talking about everything, as you normally would. Eventually, you both started talking about music and the album. It was clear you both had similar tastes in music, but one thing that neither of you weren’t expecting was the understanding you both had about what you wanted to write. Every idea, every concept you went back and forth on was never shot down. You would build up on each idea and create a story. “I am not letting you let that fantasy, Lord of the Rings inspired album slide under the rug.” Eddie said, holding up an accusing, soapy finger. You shake your head and laugh, drying the freshly cleaned dish in your hand.

“I don’t know how, but I promise I’ll make it happen.” Eddie goes back to rinsing off the last dish. “But, you have to keep your half of the bargain and actually release your own music.” You say raising a brow at him. He tilts his head and hands you another dish with a wide grin.

“Anything for you, baby.” He teases. You take the dish, biting back your smile as your cheeks burn. Eddie rinses out the sink and runs his hands under the water a final time before turning the faucet off and drying his hands. Eddie turns to lean his back against the counter, and you put down the final dish as you finish drying it. You look at the clock, and it’s almost midnight. You turn back to him. He still held a cheesy grin on his face.

“We should probably call it a night, hot shot.” You say, leaning on your arm that rests on the edge of the counter. He sighs dramatically and rolls his head.

“So soon?” He pouts. You smile a bit at his childish antics.

“Well, We have a busy day tomorrow. I don’t want you complaining about being tired while we work.” He groans and lifts himself up, leading the way around the island and out the kitchen.

You walk him to his bedroom door. “If you need anything, my room is at the top of the stairs, first door on the left.” You lean against the door frame, resting on your shoulder. Eddie stops from walking any further into the room and turns to face you. He places a hand just above your head on the door frame, leaning against it. He looks down at you with a small smirk.

“Dinner was amazing. Thank you, dollface.” You cross your arms and roll your eyes.

“‘Dollface’? Really?” You look back up to him with a less than impressed expression but biting back a smile. He shrugs, his act not wavering in the slightest.

“Heard Steve say it. I should’ve known it wouldn’t work on you.” His smirk grows into a grin. “But, seriously, thank you. Today has been amazing. I love getting to spend time with you, especially in person. You’ve definitely given me a night to remember.” His honesty makes your heart flutter, releasing your smile from its cage.

“I’m glad. You’re stuck with me for a whole week.” You scrunch your nose. Eddie finds it absolutely precious. You turn to walk away, “See ya in the mornin’!” You say without sparing him another glance. He watches you make it to the top of the stairs before yelling back.

“Goodnight, superstar!” He smiles up to the top of the stairs.

“Goodnight, rockstar!” You shout back before your door clicks closed. Eddie continues to smile up at the stairs for a few seconds before making his way into the room, closing the door behind him. He sighs happily and looks around the moonlit room letting his happiness build. He then jumps, punching the air with a huge smile on his face. He wants to let out a loud yell to release the pent up energy he has, but he restrains himself. He quickly makes his way over to the nightstand and turns on the bedside lamp, illuminating the room in a soft warm light. He reaches down to his backpack and grabs his tattered notebook and a pen. He jumps onto the bed and situates himself to lay on his stomach. He flips through a few pages of words and doodles to get to a blank page and starts writing furiously.

“Hey, girl, I’m in love with you.”

Tag List (Open):

@ali-r3n

@starmilks

@madelynraemunson

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #swiss fics #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x rockstar oc #eddie munson x rockstar!reader #life eternal swiss fic #eddie munson swiss fics #eddie munson x rockstar reader #rockstar eddie munson

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apod · 1 year

Photo

2023 May 2

Flat Rock Hills on Mars Image Credit & Copyright: NASA, JPL-Caltech, MSSS; Processing: Neville Thompson

Explanation: Why are there so many flat rocks on Mars? Some views of plains and hills on Mars show many rocks that are unusually flat when compared to rocks on Earth. One reason for this is a process that is common to both Mars and Earth: erosion. The carbon-dioxide wind on Mars can act like sandpaper when it blows around gritty Martian sand. This sand can create differential erosion, smoothing over some rocks, while wearing down the tops of other long-exposed stones. The featured image capturing several hills covered with flat-topped rocks was taken last month by NASA's Curiosity Rover on Mars. This robotic rover has now been rolling across Mars for ten years and has helped uncover many details of the wet and windy past of Earth's planetary neighbor. After taking this and other images, Curiosity carefully navigated stones and slippery sand to climb up Marker Band Valley.

∞ Source: apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap230502.html

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omies-odd-writing-spot · 3 months

Text

B.F.D.G. 08: BLEEAHK- that was a bad idea

[Ao3] [ffnet] Full chapter in links!

The Slayer did not go too far from where he left his new human. He could not as the Demigod realized that she was not equipped at all to survive alone. Just far enough away to get a good reading of the scents and a basic layout before looping back. Finding that the main halls were just big enough for him to walk through as he paced a bit. Investigating a bit as the Slayer just caught a glimpse of the other humans retreating around a corner again and then behind what seemed like airlock doors. He was finding quite a few of those really!

That… made some sense actually, to have several fail safes for breathable air.

He heard the scrambling in the hall that he used before, head snapping around and away from where he sensed the living souls. The near giant launched back the way he came. Following the sound and down a now familiar hall with the big windows that showed the Martian landscape and the colony.

The little human was just starting to move, sitting up and looking around. Only to yell as one of the black slicked possessed creatures was climbing up on the machines she had been left on. The fear drew the creature up on the colorful machine and another one latched onto a machine at her feet.

The Slayer lunged to get over there faster, a snarling growl slipping out. The lower gravity was still throwing him off as he cleared the distance faster than he was expecting. So he crashed into those colorful machines while just able to grab the first altered thing. Shoulder hitting them and rocking the things, and fronts of two of the three crumpled and seemed to just pop open. Sending a few things scattering across the ground with a clatter and thumb of plastic, metal and glass.

The human scream that resulted had an instant reaction. A few moments of chaos that seemed much longer than it really was. He grabbed that first creature and was trying to break it when the second one climbed on top of the machines. Having to grab at that, the Slayer gave a confused but insulted sound as the second hell altered possessed slipped out of his hand as the black oily substance on it let the thing wiggle free. It reached for the human's leg as she was trying to curl up.

The human cried as the Slayer grabbed the second creature with both hands. It made a squelching sound and twisted as if inside its own skin to try to bite his fingers. He grunted in surprise as she fell off the hiding place, half behind the machines. The Slayer gave a frustrated sound as a third black shape was scrambling over his back and was jumping for the living mortal as the broken but still living first possessed rolled over.

He needed both hands to grab the two things, as well as hold onto the slippery one-

The Slayer did not think, he just acted and reacted. Feeling something squished and popped wetly as the same altered teeth that helped him tear into the restraints in his sarcophagus now sliced through demonically altered flesh. Hard enough char was starting to form in his mouth as he caught the third creature and the first in his hands.

Like what happened in the sarcophagus it took more effort to kill the things then it should have. Caving the first creature's chest in and throwing it back. Then had to hold tighter to the last and flexed to start ripping it apart. Annoyed at the strange vine like growths in it-

"Hurrp-ak!"

…and then the taste of the oil that was on the creature he bit finally sank in, a few seconds after the fact. Not even that strange metallic sweet of proper, healthy blood. It was almost rancid and fatty. Engine grease would, and did taste better he knew from experience.

Do not ask what the experience was.

Were?

Technically it was two experiences, but he also knew that Human made engine grease and Argenta made were alike but different.

"...blaaaahh-aahk…" The Slayer spat, gagged and tried to get the fluid out of his mouth as the possessed were charring around him. That one that he bit was tossed down the hall as it seemed to be moving. It was weird and tasted bad and it was like there was a thick layer of that rancid oil under the skin-

The Slayer made a face not unlike someone might do when they suddenly had unexpected acid reflux. That moment between realizing it was a horrible taste and then betrayed that it happened in the first place. The near giant of a man started to lift a hand to try and clear the taste, then realized that the same black oily substance was all over them and coughed. Gagged and then… the demigod dry heaved there in the hall.

The little human was just barely peeking from around the farthest machine that was broken. Mostly seeing the giant's shadow at first and then just the Slayer's top half. He heaved again hard enough some of the traces of liquid energy he had been, well, fed, while trapped in hell came up. Not that that was much better, but not rancid like the oily stuff.

He shifted to start pushing himself up, debating on at least trying to rub the oil off on his shoulder or something-

The Slayer's left hand landed on one of the things that fell from the machines, he started to wince, feeling it crunch. Then jerked away as it… imploded? Exploded? His right shoulder hit the one machine that he did not damage before. Though now its small locks broke and there was a flood of some sort of packets against his shoulders. There was a rather ungraceful moment of him trying to get away from the stuff, triggering some more pop and splashing hisses of fluid.

He was sitting near the human when he finally started to place what the things were. Sitting there out of range of popping anymore…cans. Bottle. Both.

He started to recognize these things. Or at least he recognized that he used to know what these things were. The Slayer sat for a good minute, frowning at what he was seeing. He leaned forward and plunked up one of the undamaged cans, scowling at it as if offended it's kin did that to him.

It was as the big guy was slowly turning the can, squinting at the text on it, that the nearby human, still mostly hiding, wondered if he could read.

In reality, the Slayer could and did read and write quite well. Both human and Argenta languages, several of the latter in fact.

At least…he thought he could still read the old human language. The spoken language was recognizable to the Demigod. Even if it was accented to him. These things had text that were… semi familiar in how the letters were but at the same time like those letters were… wrong. Backwards maybe?

Almost like backwards or spelled so odd it was almost something else.

"It's…" a very small voice spoke, drawing the glowing gaze to his left. The human swallowed almost audibly, as she tucked her face down against her knees. Oddly, it helped her speak again without being able to see anything. "It's a Drizzle Sprint drink. Soda?"

The Slayer blinked slowly at the tiny human, looking at the can again. Soda?

Why was that… familiar?

#doomguy #doom fanfiction #doom slayer #doom 2016 #gt #BFDG story #omie's writing #big fucking demi god #big fucking doom guy #THIS MAN...#is stupid sometimes #theres a reason he normally has a helmet and its because of the reflex to bite things and not learn

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musicthatyoucandanceto · 4 months

Text

robin's opinions about sparks albums 1980-1988

this is part two! I posted a 70s version recently

Terminal Jive (1980) or what I call a sparks slay moment

Bops: When I'm With You (duh), Stereo, The Greatest Show on Earth (those last two are controversial apparently but I like them!!)

Flops: When I'm With You Instrumental (not interesting), Rock N' Roll People in a Disco World (my least favorite but still not bad at all)

WHOMP! THAT! SUCKER! 1981! love love love

Bops: Tips For Teens. I haven't heard anything like it ever in my whole life and I'm SO serious. Also Upstairs, and I Married A Martian, and The Willys, and underrated CLASSIC Wacky Woman. (I try to keep the bops to around 3 songs but as you can see I am failing.)

Flops, or two songs that get on my nerves for some reason: That's Not Nastassia and Don't Shoot Me. The rest of the album is soooo delicious so it's ok

Angst In My Pants (1982): this is a popular one and honestly I'm just starting to warm up to it

Bops: Sextown USA, Moustache, The Decline and Fall of Me (it gets stuck in my head while I'm at work), and oops a bonus one, Eaten By The Monster of Love

Flops: Instant Weight Loss (I just don't like it), and Sherlock Holmes if I'm not in the right mood for it. sometimes I am and sometimes I'm not

In Outer Space (1983) !! I forgot about this one when posting this initially and I’m sad about it!!

Bops: Cool Places, I Wish I Looked A Little Better, All You Ever Think About Is Sex (yes, the basic choices, but they carry the whole album and make it one of my favorites. Plus I loooooove Jane Weidlin in this <3)

Flops: Dance Goddammit? I guess? My least favorite on the album and it’s still excellent!!!

Pulling Rabbits Out Of A Hat (1984) ... not my favorite sparks album tbh

Bops: A Song That Sings Itself, With All My Might sometimes, and... Progress?? idk

Flops: Everybody Move (haha it's spelled as 'Everbody Move' on Spotify which is wrong!), Sparks in the Dark pts 1 and 2? but that feels like cheating

Music That You Can Dance To (1986): that’s my username tee hee

Bops: MODESTY PLAYS !!! fuck yeah dude she sure does, Rosebud, Change if you include that on this album and Music That You Can Dance To if you don't

Flops: Fingertips, Armies of the Night (🤥), Let's Get Funky

Interior Design (1988): kind of fond of this one bc everyone seems to hate it and I like to be contrary sometimes

Bops: So Important, Madonna, The Toughest Girl in Town

Flops: You Got a Hold of My Heart, The Big Brass Ring (but I'm sure everyone says they don't like that one)

I wasn’t sure where to put A Walk Down Memory Lane but I’m listening to it now and it’s actually pretty cool!! that’s an extra bop baby

#sparks #my 'sparks opinions' tag

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wheretheeternalare · 5 months

Text

2023 reading list :) bolded means i liked it

Companion Piece by Ali Smith Unnatural Death by Dorothy Sayers The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club by Dorothy Sayers Pnin by Vladimir Nabokov Lord Peter Views the Body by Dorothy Sayers Howards End by E. M. Forster The Raincoats by Jenn Pelly The Martian by Andy Weir The Minuteman Murder by Jane Langton The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco A Mercy by Toni Morrison Kindred by Octavia Butler Subculture: The Meaning of Style by Dick Hebdige Transformer by Ezra Furman Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin Rainbow Rainbow by Lydia Conklin Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk by Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston Still Life by Louise Penny The Best American Short Stories 2020 ed. Curtis Sittenfeld I Have Some Questions For You by Rebecca Makkai A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers Swallows and Amazons by Arthur Ransome Right Place, Right Time: The Life of a Rock & Roll Photographer by Bob Gruen A Prayer for the Crown-Shy by Becky Chambers All This Could Be Different by Sarah Thankam Mathews Island Zombie: Iceland Writings by Roni Horn There But For The by Ali Smith The Faggots & Their Friends Between Revolutions by Larry Mitchell A Dream of a Woman by Casey Plett The Transgender Issue: Trans Justice Is Justice For All by Shon Faye The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia by Philip Sidney Mother Camp: Female Impersonators in America by Esther Newton Bellies by Nicola Dinan A Question of Proof by Nicholas Blake Girlfriends by Emily Zhou Decolonize Drag by Kareem Khubchandani Morrissey & Marr: The Severed Alliance by Johnny Rogan England Is Mine: Pop Life in Albion from Wilde to Goldie by Michael Bracewell Swann's Way by Marcel Proust

#as always recommendations are welcome!

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mwebber · 9 months

Note

Ooh now Im having thoughts: Imagine birthday sex with girl!Seb (post-2013)

like, imagine ME having birthday sex with girl!seb? i'd rock her world... i'd treat her so well she forgets she ever knew a webber. move aside, mark.

i kid, i kid. i wrote a passing mention of birthday sex in the universe, if you want to know what they were doing in/before 2011..

and things have changed quite a bit! mark's 47 now and thinking, for how much he's done in his life, he's not even 50 yet. girlseb is still seb--36, happily retired, and spending her days caring for the martian kids i've treated like a hypothetical plot point until now and don't care much to linger on.

anyway. birthdays get less spectacular as the years go by. this one is relatively quiet: cards and calls and texts from extended family and friends, and homemade cake from seb and the twins. there's a little too much frosting, but it reads "HAPY BIRTHDAY DADdY" so. the only way out is through.

that night, after the rest of the house is asleep and they're both settling under the covers to pass out after a long day, seb teasingly rubs mark's tummy and presses a kiss to his shoulder. neither of them are as trim as they were in their 20s, but they both like the way age shows on their bodies; the laugh lines on seb's face, the crow's feet by mark's eyes, the familiar and comforting feeling of solidness that comes when they cuddle no matter how they change. eighteen years is a long time to love somebody.

gone are the days where they'd fuck like rabbits any chance they had, so sex has become a much slower (and lovelier!), if less frequent, affair, at least in the last five to ten years. mark is almost surprised when he shifts in place and finds himself stirring. seb is--well, she's seb. less surprised, and more calculating when she slings a thigh over his stiffening cock.

"do you wanna," mark still mumbles, even as seb closes the small gap between them to cup his jaw in a gentle hand and kiss him properly. he tastes like mint toothpaste and home.

the story usually goes like this: mark rolls them over and fits himself between seb's thighs, and they rock against each other as quietly as possible so as to not wake the kids, and it's all very romantic.

the way seb pushes mark onto his back and climbs onto his lap now, it's like 2014 all over again.

she makes quick work of their underwear, tossing the articles carelessly to the side. it's just the two of them in their sleep shirts, then mark rucks seb's up to hold her by the waist and tug her over his hips. call him a freak, but he loves her tummy: the stretch marks, the looser skin, the physical evidence that they made a life together. he'd kiss her all over if he could.

as it is, seb has a plan. she reaches into the bedside drawer to grab the lube, and mark rubs his hands over her thighs, giving her room to work. handjobs used to seem uninspiring when he was younger--he's since learned to appreciate every little thrill seb gives him. she works him with practiced hands, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration like she's turning in a difficult chicane.

but then she smirks at him, and turns her attention away, and her eyelashes flutter minutely with the relief of finally touching her cunt. slowly, she eases herself to sit over the length of his cock, and spreads the lips of her pussy so he's nestled comfortably between them, sandwiched along her folds. seb keeps herself spread and bucks her hips experimentally. like this, the head of his cock pokes out tantalizingly every time she draws back, and rubs deliciously at her clit when she fucks forward.

it should probably seem like she's using him to chase her own pleasure, but mark can't feel anything except bone-deep contentment while watching her work. besides, she feels incredible. lazily, he worms his fingers between them to stroke around her clit, just the way she likes it.

of the two of them, seb's the one who's still got the stamina of a world-class athlete, and she knows it. she slows the pace, lets mark play with her pussy until he's so hard he's aching, before finally lifting her hips and guiding him inside.

even after all this time, the first stretch is mindblowingly good. she doesn't wait for him to bottom out before lifting herself and fucking down again--just rolls her hips on his cock the way he likes it, allowing her vision to blur as she operates on feeling and experience. her thighs burn, but miraculously hold.

mark doesn't much mind being a passive receiver when they make love; seb is sexiest when she rides his cock with abandon, lost in everything but the pursuit of her orgasm. but he knows that this is a gift, and that the best gifts are shared.

so he pulls her down to lie on top of him and flips their positions. he messily pushes seb's shirt up to her armpits so he can lick and suck at her tits while he hunches over and fucks her. her hands twine in his hair and pull him up--and then they're locked at the lips, superimposed on one another like they'll crumble if they let go.

seb squeezes around him perfectly when she comes. it's not long at all before mark follows, burying himself to the hilt and hiding his face in the crook of seb's neck to stifle his groans. when the white heat of his high fades away, he burrows closer against her, and simply enjoys the feeling of her fingers against his scalp.

"happy birthday," she punctuates the sentiment with a quick peck to his cheek.

"you too," mark says, and he's out before he can process why seb is laughing.

#inbox #che angelo sei #my writing

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tuliptheoshawott · 11 months

Text

LWA Headcanons #1: Akko

I have an absolutley *massive* imagination so I decided to make a headcanon sheet. Starting with Little Witch Academia, here is the main character, Akko!

She’s Bisexual (ofc)

Probably wrote bad Chariot fanfiction when she was younger.

One of 2 characters with parental issues/trauma because I'm quirky like that.

Always gets on her roommates about eating leftovers, and not letting a single morsel go to waste. Lotte thinks it's disgusting but Sucy thinks it's fine.

Gets into tickle fights with Lotte all the time.

Her music tastes consist of mostly comedy music, like Your Favorite Martian or Weird Al.

She is also a big fan of Rock and Metal, a trait she shares with Constanze. They have a playlist they share filled with songs by The Rolling Stones, Metallica, Black Sabbath, Green Day, etc.

She’s massively touch starved so pretty much any form of hugging, cuddling, etc. is accepted and very much wanted.

#little witch academia #atsuko kagari #headcanon #lwa headcanon

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babacontainsmultitudes · 1 year

Note

Hello!! For the song thing how about Grant Wilson, Henry Oak, Scary Marlowe, Glenn Close, annnd Autumn/Linda?? Sorry if that’s too much, you don’t have to do them all!! :]

😊 Hey you! (I'll give you some Grant and Henry ones that I didn't mention in the other ask lol)

Henry:

"When the day met the night" by Panic! At The Disco (that's like the ultimate Hencedes song for me lol)

"Alice" by Avril Lavigne

"Familiar" from Steven Universe

"Here comes the sun" by The Beattles

Grant:

"Free" by Florence and the Machine

"Against the Kitchen Floor" by Will Wood

"Quiet" by Demi Lovato

"Smile" by Nat King Cole

"Coffee" by Jack Stauber

Scary:

"River Below" by Billy Talent

"The Spider and the Lamps" by Forgive Durden (from Razia's Shadow)

"Say My Name" from the Beetlejuice musical

"You're gonna go far kid" by The Offspring

Glenn:

"Blame it on rock and roll" by Tilian

"Orphan Tears" by Your Favorite Martian (sorry)

"Big shot" by Billy Joel

"Here's to the zeroes" by Marianas Trench

"Viva la Vida" by Coldplay

HEH Autumn/Linda hmmmm let's see let's see... How about "Sweet Saviour" by Villagers :]

#THANK YOU FOR THE ASK 💜#hope you like some of those!#dndads #dungeons and daddies #ask game #henry oak garcia #henry oak #grant wilson #scary marlowe #glenn close #glenn close dndads #so many I have SO MANY for Glenn #Autumn Oak #autumn #linda stampler #<- They both need their own last names tbh #autumn/linda

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distort-opia · 2 years

Note

do you have any comic recommendations of joker's humanity being explored? Or just comics where he is handled as a complex, multidimensional human being?

Oh boy do I! [rolls out 100-slides Power Point]

I must make the note that these are specifically comics in which Joker is portrayed as either becoming sane (however briefly shown), exploring Joker’s psyche in a more detailed way (with his many recollections and reinventions of his own past -- but which are all very telling in themselves), or with him empathizing or displaying emotional reactions/decisions that one would not expect of him. These are not a primer on the whole of Joker’s character; there are many Joker classics I did not include, because a lot of great Joker comics are rather about Joker’s choice to be a monster, and persevering in that choice. I also did not include every single Joker origin story/recollection that I know of, because not all of them show off Joker’s vulnerabilities. In essence, I tried to keep this centred around comics that offer glimpses of his long-buried humanity. To my best attempt, these are also in chronological order of publishing.

*Heath Ledger voice* Here... we... go.

+ Batman: The Killing Joke (1988)

Joker initiates a psychological battle with Batman, in which he tries to use Jim Gordon as an example of everyone being capable of succumbing to madness after ‘one bad day’. It doesn’t work, and he proves himself wrong -- but it’s the first and only time he’s genuinely shown to consider rehabilitation. Had to include this one, it’s THE Joker story and what kickstarted references to Joker’s prior family and his humanity in later 90′s/00′s comics.

+ Batman (1937) #450-451

Joker deals with the emotional aftermath of being left to die, and of killing Jason in Death in the Family.

+ Batman: Going Sane (1997)

The Joker seemingly kills Batman. Faced with the loss of his nemesis, Joker gives up crime and becomes Joe Kerr, an average man who only wants to dote on his girlfriend and live his quiet life. But of course Batman isn’t actually dead.

+ Deathstroke (1991) #58

Joker pretty much empathizes with and tries to help (in his own way) an abused little girl who's been writing letters to him. All while Deathstroke is trying to stop him from destroying a whole city.

+ The Spectre (1992) #51

The Spectre tries to pass judgment onto Joker, but Batman fights to save him and argues on his behalf. Briefly, Joker becomes sane, and immediately begs for death as he regrets his actions (which becomes a bit of a recurring theme).

+ Batman: Shadow of the Bat #37-38 (1995)

Joker kidnaps a bunch of people from Gotham University and hatches a plan to kill them, because he recalls his days as a comedian -- and he blames them for not laughing at his jokes. This is clearly referencing The Killing Joke (TKJ).

+ The Joker: Devil’s Advocate (1996)

The Joker has been captured and sentenced to death for mass murder, but he was wrongfully convicted, since he was actually framed. Batman cannot let him die when he discovers the truth; but Joker refuses to try and help in stopping his impending demise, too drunk on getting Gotham’s attention.

+ JLA (1997) #15

Conclusion of the Rock of Ages arc. Martian Manhunter manages to briefly turn Joker ‘sane’, to get him to hand over the Philosopher’s Stone. But he cannot hold the madness down for long. However, in that brief moment of sanity, Joker expresses regret once again.

+ JLA (1997) #35

The Spectre is considering destroying Earth because there’s so much evil inside the heart of humanity, including the very hearts of the Justice League. But then Martian Manhunter takes him inside Joker's head, and things get interesting. (I have an older meta on this issue here. TKJ is once again referenced.)

+ Batman: It’s Joker Time (2000)

Through a mix of comic book shenanigans (and some very unsubtle ‘TV rots your brain!’ messaging that was typical for the times), Joker ends up as the star of a TV show, where his mind gets probed by psychologists for the masses’ entertainment. This results in some very interesting stories and embellishments of his past, with the final version being another TKJ callback.

+ Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #145 (2001)

Joker gets captured and killed by Ra’s Al Ghul as part of a plot to destroy the world. Batman revives him in a Lazarus Pit because Joker has crucial information for saving the world. After waking up, instead of going psychotic, Joker briefly regains his sanity and begins to regret his actions, begging for death.

+ Robin (1993) #85

Between delivering ever-more exaggerated lies about his childhood to the therapists at Slabside Penitentiary, the Joker discusses his history with the Robins.

- Batman: Gotham Knights #52, #54 (2001)

Part of the Pushback arc. Riddler knows the name of the cop who shot Joker’s wife, and reveals it to him. This comic wildly contradicts other canon titles with the exception of Batman: The Three Jokers, so I do not consider it canon. The Joker in this story, while showing vulnerability, is one who perfectly remembers his TKJ origin, and that ruins the unreliable narrator multiple-choice-past integral component of the character. Gotta say, not a big fan of Dan DiDio’s choices.

+ JLA (1997) #84

First part of the Trial of Fire arc. Burning Martians force the minds of prisoners in multiple places into sanity, including Arkham Asylum. Joker expresses regret and the desire to die for his actions.

- Batman Confidential: Lovers and Madmen (2007)

Alternative origin of the Joker. Taking place within Batman’s first year, a psychopathic hitman by the name of Jack comes to Gotham, and becomes obsessed with Batman because in a world where nothing matters, Batman makes him feel something. He becomes the Joker when Batman slashes his mouth open into a permanent smile with a batarang, and he also takes a bath in chemicals. Since it contradicts Joker having been Red Hood prior to his clown days, it cannot be canon, but it’s a good story.

+ Superman: Emperor Joker (2007)

When Joker is accidentally given unlimited reality-shaping powers by Mr. Mxyzptlk, he reshapes the universe in his image. He keeps torturing Batman for fun until he breaks his mind. But Superman figures out the flaw in Joker's psyche that would fix everything, and uses it to save everyone -- except Bruce, who needs his memories taken away just so he can function. (I think this is where the pattern of Joker mentioning he needs to be stopped begins.)

+ Batman: Secrets (2007)

One of Joker and Batman’s fights gets caught on camera, and it appears as if Batman is pummeling his archenemy without mercy. The Joker uses this to frame Batman in the court of public opinion while the media hovers like vultures. Much like Devil’s Advocate, this story is an interesting exploration of Joker’s overwhelming need for an audience, and what he’s willing to do for Gotham’s attention and approval. This comic references TKJ too, and in one of my favorite ways.

+ Batman: R.I.P (2008)

While Batman is believed to be dead, Joker assumes a new identity with the goal of exposing and defeating the organization that orchestrated Batman’s ‘death’, and its leader. (Second time he thinks Batman is dead, and his response is again to become someone else -- though the first time it’s to run away. The second time it’s to exact revenge, and in a roundabout way, he helps Batman and Gotham here.)

+ The Brave and the Bold #31 (2010)

The Atom goes into the Joker's mind to cure him of a rare disease. While there, he sees Joker's memories, specifically him burning his parents after they catch him killing animals and him killing his accomplice after robbing a store. (This doesn’t sound like vulnerability, but I’m pretty sure this memory is a fabrication and a defensive mechanism. I’ve mentioned my interpretation of it in an older meta here, which talks about a couple of the titles here as part of an attempt to piece together a potential version of Joker’s past.)

+ Batman: Streets of Gotham: The House of Hush (2011)

Part of the bigger Streets of Gotham story, but this one details the story of a little boy called ‘Sonny’, and the abuse he suffers at the hands of mobsters. Later, the boy is clearly revealed to have been Joker, who enacts his revenge.

+ Batman #23.1 (2013)

In the middle of a job, Joker recalls how he once lived with his abusive Aunt Eunice. He also bonds with a gorilla. (This is where a specific meme of Joker going :/ is from, hah.)

+ Batman (2011) #17

Conclusion of the Death of the Family arc. When Batman bluffs about knowing Joker’s past and identity, he becomes so terrified he pretty much jumps off a cliff.

+ Batman (2011) #40

Conclusion of the Endgame arc. When Batman stops him from healing himself while they’re both dying, Joker begs for him to let go and has a breakdown before the caves crumble on top of them.

+ Batman (2011) #48

Both Batman and Joker are amnesiacs after coming back to life, not remembering their past identities, and yet still meeting each other. While clearly suicidal and not remembering his past as Joker at all, he encourages Bruce to not become Batman again.

+ Dark Days: The Casting (2017)

Part of DC’s wider Dark Nights: Metal event. Joker was captured by Batman and kept in the Cave for his knowledge, and he uselessly tries to stop Batman from unleashing Barbatos and the Dark Multiverse on all their heads. Bruce, however, is very stubborn.

+ Dark Nights: Metal #6 (2018)

Joker teams up with Batman to defeat The Batman Who Laughs.

+ Batman (2016) #49

Joker attempts to kill Selina Kyle, due to Batman and Catwoman’s impending wedding. In doing so, he talks about his need for Batman to keep existing, since no one else would be able to stop him.

- Batman: White Knight (2017)

Set in a world where the Joker is cured of his insanity and homicidal tendencies, Joker, now known as “Jack,” sets about trying to right his wrongs. Black Label, not canon. Mentioning it because technically Joker is made sane in it, and shown to be vulnerable emotionally multiple times, but I hate it. When he’s Joker he’s insane and obsessively in love with Batman, but when he’s sane and Jack he’s an upstanding citizen and in love with Harley. Congrats on downright saying being gay makes you crazy and that only the love of woman can heal you, DC. You’d think they’d stop it with the Predatory Gay trope in our day and age, but nah.

+ The Batman Who Laughs (2019) (#1, #4, #7)

After Joker intentionally infects Batman with the toxin in his heart that would turn him into Batman Who Laughs (all to give him an advantage in the fight against the villain), he expresses a desire for neither himself or Batman to ever win, and swears to kill Batman if he crossed the line. A promise which he keeps by actually shooting him, the mad lad.

+ The Joker 80th Anniversary: Birthday Bugs (2020)

Joker empathizes with a psychopathic child, who wants his peers to join his birthday party. It’s a dark kind of empathy, but still a form of caring.

+ The Joker 80th Anniversary: The Last Smile (2020)

Harley recalls a frequent nightmare that had Joker terrified: dying on the electric chair while Batman laughed at him.

- Harleen (2020)

A reimagining of Harley Quinn’s origin: a young promising psychologist encounters a very smart and manipulative serial killer, spinning story after story of his own past. A Black Label comic, so technically not in continuity, but I did like it.

+ Batman: Gotham Nights #9 (2020) -- Joker’s Wild

Joker recalls another version of his comedian days, while he holds the owner of comedy clubs in Gotham at gunpoint.

- Batman: Three Jokers (2020)

Very debatable if I should even list it, but Joker’s family is revealed to be alive in this comic, with the implication that they need to be kept safe from him. Black Label. Not in continuity and I will die on this hill no matter what Justice League #50 and the stupid Mobius Chair say.

Eyyy, hope you found this really long list helpful! Thank you for the ask <3

#me including comics I hated through gritted teeth: TECHNICALLY it belongs on the list but it sucks #does that time Joker adopts Ace count. I mean he pretty much traumatizes the poor dog so maybe not #if I got something wrong I do apologize!#and if anyone has other examples I am very interested #asks #batman #joker #joker comics #joker meta #my comic recs #my meta

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raventroll80 · 5 months

Text

A Beast on Mars

Chapter 2 Welcome to Mars

Freed from his prison, Slayer tries to find the source of the invasion, new allies are met and property is damaged.

Heads up this is Doom fic so there’s going to be a considerable amount of violence. This chapter contains blood, gore, a whole lotta demon murder, and death.

The Slayer jumped down from the plateau and surveyed the area, red rocks surrounded him on all sides, the wreckage of a transport lay burning just a few meters away. A massive tower could be seen off on the horizon, it’s jagged crown reminiscent of the gore nest he just purged.

To his right a small path lead through the rocks, green markers lighting the way. Following the path, the Slayer was led to an excavation site of sorts, floodlights shining down on large ruins in the red sand. The Doom Marine spotted a few zombies shambling about, though he noticed one group of undead were wielding weapons. Soldiers, great, deep in the recesses of his mind the Slayer recalled the burning pain of plasma from their rifles.

The Slayer rolled his shoulders before jumping down from the ledge and fired a round at the group of undead soldiers. Most were killed by the blast of the shotgun and most of the zombies were crushed beneath the behemoth in his decent. The howl of Imps echoed through the air as Scouts flooded the site, with their Brutes hot on their trail.

The first Brute jumped down and received a face full of lead, the spread picking off a few of the lesser Imps in the process. As the Brute recovered from the attack, the Slayer rushed over and bashed its head with the butt of his gun, the bones of its face made a satisfying crunch. Before he could make the finishing blow a fireball came hurling at him from across the excavation site, its sender sneering at him with its bloodstained teeth. With the flick of his tail, the meat hook went flying before sinking into the shoulder of the Brute. The demon howled before being yanked across the battlefield by the Slayer who gladly welcomed them with the blast of his shotgun.

Staggered from the blast, the Brute stood there in a daze allowing the Slayer to slam its head into his knee, crushing it. The first Brute then jumped onto the Slayer’s back and attempted to choke him, the Slayer retaliated by slamming his back and therefore the Brute against the wall behind them. Just as he felt the overgrown Imps bones begin to break a volley of plasma slammed into him. Right, the soldiers.

Growling in annoyance the Slayer raised his shotgun and fired at what was left of the undead soldiers, picking off a few more Scouts in the process. Unfortunately, the distractions were far from over as yet another Brute grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away. Just as he was about to fire another round into the demon the Brute slammed its arms down on him. The Slayer returned the gesture with his own punch before slamming his head into its own.

The Slayer recovered first and growled as he sunk his claws into the Brutes shoulder before grabbing it’s left arm. His growl became a roar of fury as the ripped the arm free from the Brutes body and used it to cave its head in. The Brute collapsed to the floor, the bright redness of its blood putting the rusty orange of the sand to shame. The sound of something scrabbling up the rocks reminded him about the first Imp he’d yet to deal with.

He turned to see the once furious Brute, was now attempting to flee… how cute. The Slayer flicked his tail and sunk the meat hook into the Imps leg. The demon squealed in pain as it was dragged back towards the Unchained Predator. Those squeals became shrieks of terror as the Brute raised its arms in a feeble attempt to defend itself but it was futile as the Slayer crushed its ribs beneath his boot. The remaining Imp Scouts scattered as their final Brute fell, leaving the Slayer roaring in victory. Finally, silence fell once more over the Martian landscape, that was before the Slayer picked up on a soft beeping.

There, at the top of the excavation site floated a small drone, it beeped at him again before flying off, the Slayer tiled his head in curiosity and quickly followed. He climbed out of the excavation pit and followed the drone until he was stopped by a security gate. The gate was locked and required a blue key card to open, or it would have if the Slayer weren’t nearly 16 feet tall.

The behemoth of a man kicked the security gate a couple of times before the metal tore free of the rock. Could he have just stepped over the fence? Yes. Did he want to? No! Dr. Hayden wanted him to fix his problem then he’s going to have to deal with the consequences. He didn’t care what he broke, just that he stopped this invasion before it got any worse.

As he continued following the beeping drone the Slayer passed by an alcove in the cliffside next to him. He was about to pass it without a second thought if he hadn’t noticed a bright red tail hanging over the ledge. Following the tail, the Slayer found that the tail belonged to what appeared to be the corpse of a tailed humanoid that looked not unlike himself. The Doom Slayer picked up the corpse and inspected their armour; it was mostly bright red in colour with black accenting, a single strip in the middle of the helmet presumably served as the visor or camera other than that, their face was completely obscured by the helmet. Much like his own armour the humanoids tail ended in a spiked blade, whether or not it could shoot out like his meat hook though, he was unsure.

The Slayer laid the corpse back down on the ledge and watched the drone dart into a cave, the Slayer dropped into a crouch and slowly crept forward. He didn’t know if the drone was leading him somewhere or running away, but what he did know was that he wanted to catch it. The Slayer stayed low to the ground and crept around the ledge and past some rails and a cargo dock before slowly sneaking into the cave. He stayed crouched as he watched the drone hover out of the cave and looked around for him, making confused beeps as it tried to figure out where he went, it was holding something…

Slowly and silently the Slayer crept forwards, eyes fixed onto the drone. Closer, and closer he crept, the little drone none the wiser until… Bam! The Slayer grabbed onto the drone which started to beep almost frantically as it tried to escape his grasp. The Slayer turned the drone over in his hands and inspected it; it was fairly small compared to the slayer though it would probably be about the size of an average human’s torso, its main body was circular and small arms appeared to be grasping a large crate labeled “CAUTION EXPLOSIVES”.

The drone made more panicked beeping before releasing an electric shock. The Slayer yowled in pain and dropped the drone who floated away from him. The Slayer snarled at the drone before lunging at it and tearing it apart. The drone made some strained beeps and whirrs before it’s lights went out; the Slayer huffed in satisfaction and began inspecting the crate the drone was carrying. Inside he found a handful of large grenades, so large in fact that he could probably use them.

A twinge of guilt shot through the Slayer as he glanced at the remains of the drone. Had it been trying to help him? He pocketed the grenades and gently scooped up the drone, clearly someone had to be piloting it, maybe if he brought them the remains, they could fix it? He pocketed the drone and continued on his way.

He passed by more wreckage and gore before he stumbled upon the entrance to a larger facility, broken rails lead to massive bay doors, lesser demons prowling about. Time to test out these new grenades. He pulled the pin and threw it towards them. The explosion shook the entire building, blood and guts went flying everywhere. Effective, he thought to himself as he climbed up to the door. The cargo bay had a much lower ceiling than the lab which forced the Slayer to crouch somewhat. A panel flashed beside door, the Slayer pressed it and the blast doors hissed opened as machinery clunked and whirred. The Slayer walked into the airlock and the doors shut behind him, the loud clunk of the doors locking in place made him growl in unease.

A few minutes had passed and the doors still hadn’t opened up into the facility and the Slayer was getting impatient. He had started pacing around the airlock, his tail twitching in annoyance. A sound chimed in his helmet indicating that a call was coming in. He allowed the call to come through, ho ping he’d get an explanation.

“Hello, I am VEGA the sentient intelligence assigned to Mars. I would like to apologize for what happened earlier; the electric shock is meant to be a deterrent against demonic threats. I was not aware that it was you who grabbed it before administering the shock.” The semi-robotic voice explained in a calm tone.

Oh, so there wasn’t a human piloting it, interesting.

“I would also like to apologize for the wait, power in this facility has been disrupted so I’ve had to reroute the power. The doors will-” VEGA had tried to continued but the Slayer had decided to take matters into his own hands.

“You cannot pry open the doors. They are hermetically sealed for-” The AI had tried to explain only to be cut off by the shrieking of metal as the Slayer began to lift the blast door. The Slayer had begun growling as he fought against the mechanisms only for the door to quickly rise from his hands as it opened.

“As I was explaining, the doors are hermetically to protect employees from the outside conditions. I would prefer you keep the damages to a minimum in the event that any survivors make their way to this facility.” VEGA explained in a less calm, almost annoyed tone. The call ended and the Slayer was left alone in the dark facility.

Following the hallway away from the airlock, the Slayer found himself in a much larger room where he was able to stand once more. The room in question appeared to either be a large chasm or mineshaft. The Slayer found himself stood upon a platform that housed a large cargo elevator, across the room a massive fan sat motionless. Catwalks connected the two sides to each other, the Slayer doubted that they’d support him. The Slayer was about to search for a way forward when the AI returned.

“It appears you are too big to access the control panel down the hall. I will send a field drone to assist you in restoring power,” the Slayer shook his head before leaping across the gap, his claws digging into the stone walls. He began climbing up the chasm in search of a passageway he could fit through.

VEGA had been instructed by Dr. Hayden to monitor the Doom Slayer in order to keep him from damaging the Mars facility any further, and to do that he needed to access the security cameras, and to access the cameras he needed the power to be restored. He needed the Slayer to open the door to the control room so the drone could get in, as it was jammed during the initial invasion, so he needed to convince the Slayer to turn back.

“I implore you to at the very least clear the way to the control panel as power is needed to operate the res-ops satellite. You will not be able to gain the information you need unless the satellite is operational.” That seemed to do the trick, as the Slayer stopped his climbing and looked back down at the platform below.

The beast let out a growl of annoyance before leaping back down to the previous platform. Much to their dismay the platform buckled beneath the Slayers weight and began to collapse. The Slayer quickly began digging into the wall in an attempt to open it up before the metal beneath him fully gave out. Luckily, he was able to tear the wall open and crawl into the hallway before the metal platform went tumbling down into the abyss below. The Slayer had ripped out some of the air and maintenance ducts to make room for himself as he waited for the field drone to arrive.

When the drone arrived, he had to shimmy around in order to let the drone pass by, a moment passed before the lights came on and the fan whirred to life. The Slayer slipped out of the thoroughly destroyed hallway and clung to the wall and waited for the drone to return, this place was a maze and he wasn’t entirely sure which way would lead him to the satellite. The drone returned, making an almost happy beeping noise before VEGAs voice came through on his comms.

“I have downloaded this facility’s map and laid out a path with the least resistance for you.”

A map appeared on his visor, indicating that he needed to go to another airlock across the facility, it also labeled a point of interest in one of the loading bays.

“The door to the airlock is locked via a maintenance keycard, one will be need in order proceed. The lockdown will also need to be lifted in order to open the airlock. I have traced the source of the lockdown to a Gore Nest in…”

The Slayer had stopped paying attention to the AI and was instead focusing on a zombie that was currently grabbing at the field drone. It was flailing its arms at the robot who appeared not be bothered in the slightest. The reanimated corpse had managed to grab the arm of the drone and was starting to weigh it down, the drone made a familiar beeping as it struggled to stay aloft.

The Slayer chuckled in amusement and grabbed the zombie with his free hand and crushed it, the corpse going limp in his hand. He let go of the zombie letting its body fall down the shaft, down and down, it fell until he couldn’t see it anymore. The Slayer waited for the sound of its body hitting the bottom, but it never came.

“Thank you, Slayer, I will let you be on your way now,” The AI said before disconnecting, once more silence fell as the Slayer was now left alone. At first, he had enjoyed the ambient silence, but now he was starting to feel… lonely? No, it couldn’t be loneliness, the Doom Slayer didn’t get lonely… right?

The Slayer shook the notion from his mind and began climbing up the walls of the chasm in search of a path forward. Eventually He found a tunnel that ended in a large metal hatch. A quick check revealed nowhere for the Slayer to open it, no problem, that’s what grenades are for!

A grenade was tossed towards the hatch, the explosion blew open the hatch revealing a smallish cargo bay crawling with zombies and undead soldiers. The Slayer tossed another grenade into the cargo bay and waited.

The explosive skittered across the metal platform; a few zombies shambled towards it to investigate. The undead soldiers seemed to be more cognitively aware as they looked towards the Slayer before they opened fire.

The grenade exploded and the Slayer swung himself into the room and returned fire. Imps howled as lead went flying through the air and the Slayer lobbed another grenade across the room. The explosion shook the room and the structure the Slayer clung to shifted as several barrels exploded beneath him.

Once the dust settled most of the demons were lying in pieces with a few still writhing in agony, a blast from his shotgun put them out of their misery. Slowly the Slayer climbed down from his vantage point, testing the platform below to see if it would give. Surprisingly it didn’t. The platform beneath him groaned threateningly as the stepped onto it, but it seemed to hold.

A loud clattering sounded from the structure he had been clinging to catching his attention. Snapping his head towards the windows which looked out into the bay where he currently stood. He watched as something darted out of view, what it was he wasn’t sure, but he decided to give chase anyways.

The windows shattered with ease and the metal walls were peeled away with ease allowing the Slayer access to the room within. The room in question appeared to be a locker room… that meant he must be close to the exit. Examining the room, the Slayer found a few corpses strewn about one of which had a chainsaw lodged in it, a close look revealed that it was still warm… someone’s been here.

Had that been a survivor he saw? How far had they gotten? Should he track them down? Even if he did find them what was he supposed to do? Like anyone in their right mind would trust him, let alone get near him.

Out of the corner of his eye the Slayer spotted a peculiar device fixed upon the wall. It was a white cylinder about the size of a human torso. He reached towards the strange device causing it to open up revealing a series of grey rings that extended out towards him. The Slayer tilted his head in confusion and intrigue.

“What was this device?” He thought to himself, “Maybe VEGA knows…”

The Slayer didn’t really know how to call for VEGA, hell he didn’t even know the Praetor suit had a coms system! Well, he’s worn helmets equipped with coms before… at least he thought he did, it was getting hard to remember anything before the Argenta. Regardless, logic would dictate that there would be some sort of interface or button somewhere on the helmet.

Before he could begin looking for some way to contact the AI, VEGA’s voice rang through the coms. “Is there something I can help you with Slayer?”. The Slayer pointed at the device and titled his head.

“That is a medical station. Are you need of medical attention Slayer?”

“Oh, that’s what that is. Ok!” The Slayer thought before he shook his head no, and turned around looking out the window into the neighboring storage room.

VEGA watched as the Slayer smashed the glass and began searching the room. The AI gave the closest approximation to a sigh as he could before flicking through the cameras; still no signs of survivors. It was hard for VEGA to get proper reading on the facility as Olivia had done something to lock him out of almost everything, there were miles of malware and firewalls for him to dig through, but VEGA liked a challenge.

The Slayer returned to the cargo bay and resumed his search for a way forward while VEGA picked away at removing the “security” measures. Little did they know, someone had been watching the Doom Slayer from the safety of the vents, and little did that person know that an Imp was quickly closing in…

#my writing #a beast on mars #doom g/t #troll! doomguy au #g/t #giant tiny #tw gore #tw blood #slayer enjoys property damage #VEGA does not #especially when he’s technically the one getting damaged #also fun fact the giant hatch in the second arena is actually there in game #I was replaying the level and noticed it while checking the area

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