ruinedarcadefinallywrites

[ruinedarcadefinallywrites]

Unauthorized appearance.

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

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

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

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

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

    But it never does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Wrong choice, Captain.

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

    Your ears are ringing.

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

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

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

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

    He looks to you in dead silence.

    “Run. Shut the airlock and run.”

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

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

     “I love you, Captain.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     Why does that make you afraid?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

      …. Dark…

      S̶͚̺͕̏ẗ̷̘̦͝a̷͛̀͜r̸͖̃t̸͕̹̥͌̆ĩ̵̱̮̪̋͝n̴̽̑̉͜ǵ̴̙̼ ̶̡͓̥̊t̶̝̺̪̉̀o̶͕̼͐̚ ̷͎͚̰̌͂r̸̻̰͛̈͗ͅe̸̻͆̀̍m̸͇̩͍̃͝e̴͇͆ṃ̵͉̼̀̇͌b̸̟͇̀̀ḛ̷̻̤͂̇r̵̡̐̚͜ ̸̙̯͗ṡ̸͍͖o̷̮͛̈͠m̸̨̻̿͐ḙ̶̣͍̋́̚t̷̰̪̥͆h̴͍̳̿̐̒ͅi̴̙͝ͅṉ̵̾ǵ̶͖̹̗̽͠,̸̯͊͋ ̴̢͔̇̒̚C̶̟̭͆̒ͅạ̵̹͂́͊p̷̤̅̑̉t̷͍̐͐̚a̵̮͓̿̂͝î̴̤́͠n̵̞̓͐͊?̶̣̮̃̔

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

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

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

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

      They flickered, appearing next on their feet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#Sinclair this is the equivalent of throwing pumpkins into tiger enclosure #I am head butting this and studying it so hard

[ruinedarcadefinallywrites]

Autopilot Google - Wrenches

Yippee! You chose the wrench, and descend into a hidden workshop!

Word count- 1K AO3

There’s been enough running, hasn’t there been Captain? Running into the airlock, running to the warp core, running from all those stories. A change of pace would be refreshing in this timeline. Alpha Blue has been studying the warp core, waiting for you to run down the hallway. Unfortunately, you’ve gotten predictable. 

Snatching up the wrench, you run towards it. As it turns towards you, a charge already thrumming in its chest, you strike down hard. Landing a blow towards its flickering eyes, watching with a series of unrelated emotions. Mainly discontent, as it tries to scrunch its face into a scowl. Metal doesn’t bend that well, but it certainly tried. 

Autopilot crashes onto the floor like Talos did into the sands of Crete. Your stolen uniform breaking apart, buttons spilling out onto the ground like an ichor. Pulses of blue beating weaker than dying animals heart. Nothing should move. You don’t move, but the hat on the Autopilot does. Struggling under the fabric as it pushes away from the hopefully deactivated droid. As it leaves, the hat doesn’t leave whatever was under it. A hermit crab-esque creature running around the floor, stilling as it hits the edge of the warp core.

“Dude? Google, my dude? Did you take over the ship yet? Dude?” Muffled by the fabric, the being under the hat is shuffling about, trying to lift the hat off of itself. Deciding to end this almost agonizing moment, you take the one step you need, and lift off the fake captains hat from the ground.

Crouched on the floor seems to be a miniature version of Autopilot. Its entire form is almost all bright orange. Glowing and flashing rapidly like the lights of a dying rave. A tiny pair of sunglasses cover its eyes, which snap to stare up at you.

“Oh &$@*! Captain!” As it takes in its surroundings, the tiny droid notices the fallen giant next to it. “Google! My dude..#@*$!” 

Instead of sprinting away, a panel falls from its back. Wheels popping out of it and the droid begins skateboarding away. Jumping over the gaps in the floor that nearly swallow up its foot entirely. Following it isn’t an easy a task as thought, as it seems to speed up. Closing the distance between itself and the elevator. 

Not wanting to be outdone by a walking USB drive, you’re sprinting after it. Boots slipping on the floor from the lack of contact, you force your hand through the elevator doors to shut them. The tiny droid latching onto the walls and beginning to climb. Pinching him between your fingers, you look over it curiously. 

At least you had the sense not to lean your face close to it, as it started biting and gnashing its teeth over your hands. Tiny metallic hands pulling at the crystal in your palm, a web of pain coursing through your hand. Shaking your hands to try and swat it into a wall, Bing jumps towards the main panel.

Slowly, it slips down, and smacks its gumball sized head onto one of the buttons. A quiet shudder comes from the rafters of the elevator, before your feet leave the ground for a solid second. Like the line above has been cut, or you’ve been sent out of the controlled gravity field. 

Instead of trying to run away from you, or use the moment of confusion to kill you, a tiny hand grips onto your coat. Pulling at it like a frustrated child trying to ask a question. Words are lost to your mouth, and fall to your knees as the elevator finally slows down. Opening with a crackle of electricity, greeting you to a show of horrors. 

Standing beside the elevator is a robot, smooth flat teeth hiding rows of drill like teeth in its mouth. Jaw hanging open, ready to snap shut like a venus flytrap. Part of the cyro uniform covers its form, horribly stained in grease and who-knows-what. Taking a step into the workshop, Bing drops down from your coat. Skating through the legs of robots and far away from you. Most of the robots aren’t built enough to even look human, masses of wires and endoskeletons are cracking apart. 

“A man goes to a party, this man met an old friend, the two friends shared some wine. The two friends played a game, the most dangerous game..I didn’t know..was it my fault?” One of them sparks to life, spewing out the garbled speech. Metal exterior painted to resemble a yellow dress shirt, and parts of its outfit and body laid out on the table. The entirety of its lower torso is missing, not even in sight. While the story sounds interesting, you have another one to interact with. 

Turning into a corridor, desperately ignoring the numerous broken droids scattering the halls, you can hear the faint noise of a computer booting up. Almost the sound of a bell tinkling, and something sliding apart. 

“Sorry dude, I could only find these crackers. Still trying to get into the storage systems.” A series of beeps follows, and as you turn your head to look in the room, you see it. A bigger version of Bing, but barely put together. Orange faintly glowing against metallic skin, screws sticking out from the sides of its eyes.

It’s head is hanging apart, faceplates on the verge of breaking off entirely. No hands are attached, and the one leg has wires hanging in place of a foot. At your intrusion, its head snaps towards you, refusing to break eye contact. Tiny Bing is trying to put a cracker into its mouth, but its jaw hangs precariously from the rest of its face. Once again, you see your two choices. 

Sure, you’ve never built a robot before, but how hard could it be? Most of it seems wired up, and putting its limbs on would be like building furniture. Thats easy enough. Then again…how do you know this one won’t attack you? 

Make your choice, Captain. 

#iswm #iswm fic #iswm fanfiction #autopilot google #googleplier #bingiplier #bing irl #Google irl #WAIA #ruinedarcadewrites

[ruinedarcadefinallywrites]

Autopilot Google-

Bad Ending One: Run

Summary: You chose to run when faced down by Autopilot in Chapter One. Warning for major character death of viewer

WORD COUNT: 184

Run. That’s always a good option. So far, you’ve managed to save yourself through running, so what’s one more? Ignoring the wrench at your disposal, you turn around back to the hall.

There’s no following from Alpha Blue, who’s analyzing the rest of the warp core patiently. All the colours of the lights have begun flickering a deep ocean blue. The tunnels colour is taken away, as you continue to bolt through. 

Through the darkness, the twitching form of Gamma begins to claw at you. One hand catches your foot, leaving you stuck in the warped mechanics like a patch of quicksand. As you’re twisted into the mass, quiet steps creeping up behind you. 

“Captain. If you were a true leader, you would’ve seen that you were unfit. Stepped down immediately, and I wouldn’t have so much fuss. My poor Googles..the repair they’ll need. Goodbye Captain.” 

You’re granted mercy, not having to face Alpha Blue as you hear the charge rev up. There’s barely a second of pain before you’re hurtling into the wormhole again. 

Perhaps you should make a different choice.

#ruinedarcadewrites #iswm #iswm au #iswm fic #iswm fanfiction #autopilot google #googleplier #codi don’t look

[ruinedarcadefinallywrites]

what if... the waia.... had a friend :)

[ruinedarcadefinallywrites]

Autopilot Google

As you wake up in your usual loop, you find yourself with a new companion. Mark programmed an AI in case you or him went missing. It’s finally kicked in (three endings)

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

Once again please thank @puppeteered-poetry He drew autopilot Google that inspired this

AO3

BAD ENDING ONE: RUN

“Now let’s try that again. Shall we?” Echoes the same voice, the ringing tone reminiscent of a gunshot reverberating around a room. Wakey-Wakey Protocol already counting down as you open your eyes. What number loop must you be on now, six, twenty, a hundred? 

There’s no certainty in any of it, never has been. Marks previous idea of scratching a mark into the cyro pod (as it had been the only consistent thing within the cycle) was fruitless, leaving you both to attempt and tally them and fail miserably. Mark said that you must have been on loop eight, when you knew it had been at least triple that.

Like always, you’re pushed out first from the pods. Pushed out with more force than usual, you’re sent out of the pod. Bracing yourself on the console, regretting the fact you’ve put both hands out. Crystal cutting into the meat of your hand. 

Almost as bad as the time when Mark..in the core.

Speaking of the devil himself, the head engineer is ejected from his own cyro pod. Slamming and body painfully cracking into the glass. Glass already trembling, ready to shatter. Barely ten seconds after he stands up, the cycle always continues. At this point, your heartstrings aren’t pulled out into space as hard before. 

“Error: Fail safe systems offline.” Now, you’re leaving the lake to move into the first stream. It’s easier each time, and the better choice is to have Mark by your side. Turning to find the fire extinguisher, hesitating as you remember what happens. 

Oxygen slowly depleting, starving your cells of that vital gas. Stumbling into life support, but it doesn’t work. No matter how fast you are, how quickly you put out the fire. The combustion steals just a little too much, and you pass out at the door. 

Surely it will be worth it. Better to have someone to work with who remembers the cycles. Reaching to pull the ring, a loud whirring of mechanical plates pulling apart comes from just behind you. Dropping the cylinder, something wonderful final starts you off.

“All systems online.” Finally..it’s finally over. Marks system worked..and he was gone. All of his work, even when the programming had failed every loop. But you didn’t grab him. Let him fall through the window instead of holding his hand. 

“Scanning for system errors. Going through data logs. Accessing personal files.” Eyes, or something similar to that are boring holes into your skull. Something so crude in its advanced glory. Almost like you’re back in cyrogenics, it takes an age for you to turn around to the voice.

Where the door once was, something has lowered in front. Worryingly sealing you in the bridge. Mechanical boots are still strapped into lowering platform, faintly glowing in the steadying lights of the bridge. It’s dressed in..in your uniform? Almost everything matches yours. Right down to the shoulder pads and buttons. It’s your uniform, reused entirely. Dyed to fit the glowing turquoise lights coming from the panels across its face.

“Captain. I have restarted all systems. Everything is online, and I’m searching for the root anomaly.” Each syllable is coated in static, the voice barely past a digital whine. Unclipped from its station, the robot is pacing around the bridge. Staring intently at the now sealed hull doors.

“Captain? Where is Head Engineer Mark E Plier? Calculating…he has been flung into the deep voids of space. Wakey Wakey Protocol is being turned down to prevent further incidents.” Stunned silent, you can only watch as it begins to tap the console. Changing the colours into its own, pulsing quietly. 

“What are you? Are you..what are you?” It makes the closest to an emotion you’ve seen a droid make yet, a scowl crossing it’s face. Letting it’s hands leave the console and face directly at you. 

“The correct statement is ‘who are you?’. I am a being, not some silly code input. I am Autopilot, IV-II-A. Programmed in emergencies and maintenance of the ship. Captain. I believe I understand the issue. Paradoxical anomaly detected. You have been here before. Prepare for elimination.” Another device begins to hum to life, a light glow spreading throughout its body. 

Whether it’s luck or it’s own cruelty, the first shot misses you by inches. A hot white charge melting your cyropod, and as it huffs to reload, you do the best you can. You run.

If there’s any chance the loop hasn’t broken, you’ll be thanking Mark for keeping all the key areas close enough to the bridge. Knocking his lights out immediately afterwards too, for creating what seems to be a replacement for you. The nerve… 

Ducking into ADS, you remember how horribly you’d done in weapons training. All a gun really is a trigger and a muzzle, so it can’t be that hard. In the normal loop, the ADS systems don’t go down until after life support. Since none of them have gone down, the drones sit. Waiting to be called upon for inner ship defenses. Or Gunther’s terrible idea of a birthday surprise.

Going through the cabinets, you pull out the closest thing to an earthly gun you can find. Much easier to use than the others. They have about thirty dials to calibrate the attacks, and you’re pretty sure no one on the ship actually knows how to use them. Looking it over, you stand up. Ready to fire at the door at the Autopilot when you hear electricity coursing though something. 

Instead of two, like always, it’s a swarm. At least thirty of the basketball sized drones are starting to circle ADS. Thanks to their numbers, it’s not difficult to miss the first few. Blasting them, they crumble into a coppery powder, and while the rest start to fire, you do what you always do. Run. 

Sealing the door behind you, Autopilot is emerging from the bridge. Looking much more alive, motions much more fluid than when it had emerged. “Anomaly spotted. Continuing elimination process. Airlock opening. Increasing personal gravity field.” 

Ah, the airlock. A peaceful escape to restart a loop. Floating around in space for a few minutes, getting to enjoy the beauty of it. Traveling to the stars seemed pointless if you didn’t get to walk among them. At its heart, everything is made of the matter of stars, so it’s just like walking amongst your friends. Among us. All your friends. A lot less fun without a helmet, as the seal breaks between the ship and the outside. Pulling painfully at you, forcing the gun out of your hands. 

Grasping desperately at the walls, you try to pull yourself along into another room. More clanking comes from behind you, Autopilot doing something behind you. Not too interested in it’s newest ideas, you pulls yourself into the closest room possible. Sealing the doors as you jump through.

Taking a breath, you look around to find yourself in cyrogenics. There’s not much you know about AI, but you know well enough that if you hit it hard enough, you might be ok. Looking over, you can see the rows of colonists, deep in cyro-sleep. If Autopilot just wants to get rid of you, the rest of the ship should be safe. Deciding on a bottle of liquid nitrogen, you hold it akin to a baseball bat. Ready to strike when Autopilot gets-

“Beta Red Active. Downloading primary objective from Alpha Blue.” Another platform has dropped down in front of the door, less decorated as the first AI, but almost identical. Arms at the ready, you stand with your back to the colonists. Like you could save them. But you never do Captain.

As it calibrates itself, you realize there’s no time like the present. Taking a running leap forward to start smashing the tank into the droid. “Primary objective is to eliminate the Captain. To ensure the ships safety.” You’ve managed to get one blow in before it takes over. Taking the can and cracking it in half like a pretzel stick. It spills out like a broken dam, and both of you recoil. 

In the few seconds it’s on your skin, it freezes the flesh. Feeling more like you’ve stuck your hand in a reactor, eyes wide as you watch as your skin goes black as the sky. Skin peeling away to reveal raw, bleeding flesh. Like a piece of meat being dropped away. Beta is doing much better, but hitting its arm in frustration as the nitrogen cools and freezes in its joints. You’d consider it even if it wasn’t able to nearly kill you.

“Charge loading. Please stand by.” Very interested in not standing by at all, you begin punching in the codes for the door. Surely a shortcut through the colonists couldn’t cause too much trouble. As the last whir finalizing the charge echoes, you roll through the door instead.

Missing you, it hits the outside of one of the pods. Almost in horror, if this droids face had the same amount of expression as Alpha Blue. Dropping to its knees as something fizzles inside it. “Protocol failed. Shutting down for workshop transportation.” Clanking, its head hits the ground, a few panels coming loose.

Safer in the colonists cyropods, you begin searching for the crew. Only you and Mark had pods outside the station, in the event of emergencies. As you walk through the rows, you can’t help yourself as you turn around. Checking every few seconds to make sure the bot hasn’t risen up again. 

A crunching step through the rows causes you to bolt, barely glancing at the names on the rows. You need to get to the crews sections, on the side farthest to the right. Armed with only a new piece of knowledge, you dart between the pods. Damaging the ship or the colonists seem to shut them down, so you have to keep moving as close to them as you can. 

One set of steps turns into two, bustling around as you see the cyropods. Gunther is the first one you see, and as you grasp at the doors to get him out. At least he could try and take Autopilot out by force. The door cracking echoes with a boom around cyro. Bumbling steps trying to find their way quickly grow into sprints to your location. 

Trying to defrost Gunther has proved fruitless, as the system locks up. Autopilots eyes glaring through the screens before blinking away.

“Primary objective is to -TARGET LOCATED.” The two droids chant in unison, both beginning to close in on you. These two have barely any decoration on them, like they’ve only just been built. Only dressed in the uniforms berets, yellow and green respectively. Both are moving at high speeds towards you. Closing in on both ends of the hall. 

Metal clanking against metal, the pair sprint through the hallway. With visual confirmation on you, Yellow and Green slow down. Masses of metal pulling apart from their bodies, changing their forms from humanoid to hulking beasts. Buzz saws the size of a tires sprout from their chests, smaller blades beginning to line their arms. As they finish their mutation, their speed doubles.

Panting and scrambling, you try to squeeze yourself between the cyropods. Gaps that almost crush you in half, but you eventually slip into the next hall. Green was already behind you, but as it’s saw catches the side of Gunther’s pod, it too collapses. Ready to be reprogrammed by the next engineer that passes by.

Lungs burning, you have to keep pushing. Throwing a few pieces of your uniform, medals and your hat, you pray it will distract the last droid for a few seconds. Circling back towards the main doors of cyro, you begin desperately keying in the code to lock it again. 

“Auto Googles Delta Green and Beta Red are down. ADS drones to their current locations for reprogramming.” Autopilots voice over the speakers is much more smooth from when it had started. A quiet hint of robotic, but mostly hidden by a now very human voice. 

With the door shut behind you, Gamma Yellow is beginning to break it down. Wasting no more time, you begin moving through the reactor. With nowhere to hide, and the chances of the star being damaged, you head to where you always do.

The warp core.

As soon as you leave reactor, the noise of a mechanical growl and crunching metal is right behind you. Running through the hall, you pull off one of the explosives along the hall. Ready to separate the core from the ship, but one should be enough to take care of this one. 

Desperately pressing the button in the center, you wait until you see the beast, all saw and barely and limbs lumbering to the hall. It’s always delayed, you remember too well. Throwing it behind you, you keep running towards the warp core. Reaching it should be enough, safe enough at least.

Shrapnel from the bot careens forward, splinters of metal catching on your arms. Tearing against your skin and putting holes in your jacket. Pushing through, you almost collapse as you reach the inside of the warp core. Sealing the doors behind you, finally letting yourself collapse. 

Glowing as brilliantly as ever is the warp core, a pale blue light that fills the room. Sometimes, when you make it here, you realize why he loved it so much. Mark adored how he crafted it, the heart of his ship. His creation, rebuilt from destruction. These routes were always lonely, without Mark following you around like he always did. What makes it worse is the difference in how it started. Breaking the cycle. Could it really be a new timeline, if your engineer wasn’t with you?

“TARGET LOCATED. Captain, you have been identified as the anomaly. A child of the multiverse trapping the ship in an infinite loop. Insufficient leadership skills have been detected, alongside a disregard for the good of the ship. Please prepare for your elimination and subsequent replacement.”

Stepping out from behind the warp core, the Autopilot stretches out like a human would when it’s stiff. Eyes charged up a brilliantly blinding blue, staring down its target. You. 

As always, you see two options. On one of the work tables beside you is a wrench, and behind you is the hallway. You could run back, and try and wake the crew again with the other Googles disarmed. But, that could be endangering everyone. That wrench looks heavy, but if you throw it hard enough, it could do some damage.

Make your choice, Captain.

#iswm au #autopilot google #ruinedarcadewrites #iswm fic #iswm fanfiction #iswm #googleplier

[ruinedarcadefinallywrites]

is normal about Fahren

#twig talks #fahren c kelvina #So many brainrot

[ruinedarcadefinallywrites]

Friends New and Old

Summary: The captain helps the colony's meteorologist, Digritri Kelvina, gather data on an ion storm.

Warnings: injury

Series: a sequel to Two Kelvinas are Better Than One

---

Multi-colored clouds blanketed the sky, casting a strange shadow over the colony below. It looked abandoned, with most of the population seeking shelter from storm inside their homes. The only activity to be found was a group of three figures moving about an open field just north of the colony. They worked around a large machine with panels reaching up to the roiling sky above.

Gunther came up behind the group, a case full of components from the mech lab heaved over one shoulder. "Hey, weatherman, where do you want this?"

Digritri rolled his eyes at the nickname. He turned away from the machine's control panel and pointed off towards one of his companions. "Just give it to Mark, he'll know what to do with it."

Gunther nodded and walked off, passing the captain as they walked up to Digritri. They stood next to him, eyes on the sky as blue-tinted lightning flashed behind the clouds.

The meteorologist looked to them, then up to the sky with wonder in his eyes. "Isn't it exciting, captain? Our first chance to study an ion storm up close!"

"It is exciting," they chuckled. As they looked at his passionate smile, their mind wandered to memories of an old friend, one who wore that same smile. The resemblance was uncanny. They often had to remind themselves that Digritri was a different person, that their friend was gone, vanished after a betrayal that happened lifetimes ago.

Their thoughts were interrupted by Mark peaking out from the other side of the machine. "The remote uplink is online, doctor. We can begin transmitting data when you're ready." He gave a thumbs up.

"Here goes nothing," Digritri couldn't contain his excitement. He stepped up to the control panel and typed in a command. The panels at the top of the machine opened up, like a flower opening to the sun. His eyes lit up as the screen on the device began to fill with data. "These readings are incredible, I've never seen anything like it!"

The captain clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Congratulations, doctor, you've just made scientific history."

The group stayed out in the field for a long time, Digritri studying the storm while Mark kept the machine running. The captain assisted where they could, but they found themselves watching the sky more often than not. The wind had picked up, lightning and thunder booming across the valley at more frequent intervals.

The other two noticed it, too. Mark had all but stopped his upkeep to watch the storm. And though he kept his eyes on his readings, the captain could see Digritri grow more tense with each passing moment.

"The storm's picking up," Mark said, straining for his voice to be heard over the wind. "We should head for cover."

"Just a few more minutes," Digritri had a determined look in his eyes.

The captain stepped up next to him. "Digritri, we need to leave now," they ordered, a frantic edge to their voice.

"I just need more ti-!"

In a flash, a bolt of blue lighting struck down onto the machine. Everyone jumped back. The machine whirred loudly, unnaturally. The captain could just barely hear Mark shout "Hit the deck!" as they exchanged a panicked look with Digritri.

The machine exploded in time with a clap of thunder.

Seeing their friend in danger, the captain didn't hesitate to spring into action. They shouted his name and rushed forward.

They collided with Digritri, tackling him to the ground. Shrapnel flew out in all directions. They gritted their teeth as shards of metal dug into their back. As soon as the danger passed, they rolled onto their side.

Digritri sat up, breathing heavily with a hand over his heart. He stared in horror at the remnants of the machine. "Captain!" He gasped, turning to the person curled up on the ground beside him. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," they groaned, beginning to pull themself off the ground. "I've been in worse explosions."

"Thank you." He let out a sigh of relief. "Just, thank you." He ran a hand through his blue hair. His breathing evened out, and then his brow furrowed. He looked down at the captain with confusion. "Captain... why did you call me Damien?"

Their stomach dropped.

---

They didn't get to answer his question. Before they could even muster up enough courage to speak, they felt a pair of strong arms on their shoulders. Mark pulled them from the ground, yelling something about getting help. They let him drag them off to the colony hospital without protest.

A bolt of lightning flashed outside the window as Celci ripped another piece of shrapnel out of their back. They grunted, pulling their arms tighter around their bare torso. "Do you have to be so rough?"

"Yes, I do," she said sharply. "I told you it was too dangerous to go out in that storm. But did anyone listen to me? No." She punctuated her point by ripping out another shard. The captain gritted their teeth and scowled over their shoulder.

The shrapnel clattered into a metal tray sitting beside them on the hospital bed. Celci picked up the tray and took it to the countertop behind them. She returned moments later and pressed a cool cloth to one of the wounds on their back. It stung, causing them to shift in their seat.

"I suppose I should thank you," her voice was quieter, softer. "You save my brother's life."

"Don't mention it," they muttered.

Celci could sense the tension around the subject. She finished dressing their wounds in silence. As she placed the last bandage, a gentle knock came from the doorway. They both turned to look at the man standing there.

"Digritri," Celci said warmly, relief obvious in her voice. She crossed the room, placing a hand on her brother's back and guiding him out into the hall. The captain couldn't help but overhear their conversation.

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Were you able to salvage anything?"

"We managed to save most of the data we collected before the explosion. But that's not important right now, how is the captain?"

"They're fine, only some surface level wounds. They're tougher than they look, you know."

"I'd like to see them, if that's alright."

"Go right ahead. We'll talk more about this later."

"Of course."

Their breath caught in their throat. Digritri was at the doorway again, looking at them with gentle eyes. "Hey."

"Hey," they echoed back, pulling on the top half of their tattered jumpsuit. "I suppose I owe you an explanation."

He tentatively walked closer. He stood in front of them, fidgeting with his hands. "That would be nice."

They looked down to the floor, not daring to make contact with those familiar eyes. "Damien was someone important to me. We were friends, maybe something more. It- It's hard to explain, but, I lost him, a long time ago. And you just- you look so much like him, I can't help but- I can't-," They fought back the tears that were threatening to spill over. "It's not fair to you, I know. It's- it's not fair." They buried their face in their hands.

They felt the hospital bed dip as Digritri sat next to them. He looked over at them with nothing but understanding. "Tell me about him."

They were quiet for a long time. "His favorite color was blue," they said as they reached up, tucking a strand of dyed hair behind his ear. "He was kind, and passionate. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, for better or for worse." They laughed to themself. "That's why he was so bad at poker, anyway."

"He sounds like he was a good man." There was another moment of silence. "Captain, I'm glad you told me this. I can't be Damien, but I'd still like to be your friend. If you're ok with it, that is. I'd understand if you didn't want to see me anymore than you had to." He was fidgeting with his hands again.

The captain place a hand over his, lacing their fingers. Looking up at his face now, at that smile, they no longer saw an old friend, lost to time and betrayal. They saw Digritri, a person they were eager to truly meet. "I'd like to be your friend, too."

Just outside the window, the sun began to peak through the clouds.

#Teeeeehh

[ruinedarcadefinallywrites]

Two Kelvinas are Better Than One

Summary: The Captain and Mark meet the colony's meteorologist, aka the resulting brainchild of a fervent discord discussion that started with "wouldn't it be funny if celci had a twin brother named degrees"

Warnings: none

---

Mark walked into the meeting room, two mugs of coffee in hand. The captain already sat at the head of the table, reading something on their tablet. "Good morning, captain."

They looked up and smiled. "Good morning, Mark." They happily took a mug as he sat down next to them.

"So, what's on the schedule today?"

"We have our usual team meeting, but first we'll be meeting with Celci and the colony's meteorologist to discuss their concerns for the upcoming winter season." They said, pulling up their schedule on their tablet as they took a sip of coffee. They furrowed their brow and put their mug back down. "Huh, that's weird. My schedule lists Dr. Kelvina twice."

Mark just shrugged. "Must be a glitch."

"It's not a glitch," came a voice from the doorway. Celci walked into the meeting room, followed shortly after by a man Mark didn't recognize. He had the same electric blue hair as Celci, pulled back in a ponytail. His roots were black, matching his well-groomed beard. He wore a white turtleneck and a grey jacket, adorned with a pin that indicated him as a member of the science team. Celci smirked as Mark and the captain stood up to greet him. "Presenting Dr. Digritri Kelvina, New Earth's premiere meteorologist, and my baby brother."

The man scoffed. "Oh please, you're older by ten minutes." He crossed the room to Mark and the captain, giving them both a good-natured smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," Mark smiled back and shook his hand. "Celci never told me she had a brother onboard."

Celci rolled her eyes. "You never asked."

Mark glared at her and she glared back. He pulled his hand away from Digritri. "Well, we look forward to working with you, doctor. Isn't that right, captain?" He glanced over.

They were frozen in place, simply staring at Digritri. Their eyes were wide, a frown tugging at their lips. Mark recognized that look, they got it everytime they encountered something from the wormhole incident. But something was different this time, there was a certain sadness in their eyes that he'd never seen before.

"Captain?" Digritri looked confused.

The captain snapped out of their stupor. "Yes," their face settled into an uneasy smile, and they took his hand. "We look forward to working with you, D- Dr. Kelvina."

He gave them a kind, if not confused, grin. "I have to say, it's an honor to be part of your crew, captain. Your service record is quite impressive."

Before the captain could manage out a thanks, Celci stepped up right beside her brother. "Already trying to get on the captain's good side, Diggy?"

He shot her a dirty look, and she only smirked. "Please excuse my sister's attempts to embarrass me, captain. She's been doing this since we were children, and I thought she'd have grown out of it by now." She stuck her tongue out at him.

"It's alright," they said. They shifted their weight from foot to foot. "Let's just get this meeting started."

The captain took their place at the head of the table, Mark on one side and the Kelvinas on the other. Digritri straightened his jacket as he sat. He pointed to the screen mounted to the wall. "May I?"

"Go ahead, doctor," the captain said. He nodded, typing a command into his tablet.

"I've been studying the long-range scans of the planet, and I've discovered two areas of concern." Radar images appeared on the screen, showing dark blue patterns swirling over a map of the area around the colony. "The first would be the blizzards. The mountain region we settled in is not unlike the ones back on Earth, so we should expect ample snowfall in the next few months. It shouldn't be too much of a problem, though, we have sound infrastructure and plenty of supplies." Mark beamed at that, he always felt proud when someone complimented the colony.

"And the other concern?"

"Ion storms," Digritri said, his tone turning grave. He pulled up a new set of images. There were several more radar images of the planet, and a few photos of colorful clouds floating in the atmosphere around it. "It's a phenomenon I've been studying since before the journey. They're spontaneously forming magnetic storms, filled with ionically charged particles. They're capable of disrupting sensors, communications, even helm controls."

The small group shifted in their seats. That wasn't comforting to hear while sitting on a ship floating in open space. The captain spoke up. "How do you suggest we prepare for these storms?"

"With your permission, captain, I'd like to set up a radar system around the colony. I'll be able to detect incoming storm fronts, including ion storms, before they hit us."

The captain nodded. "Sounds like a plan. You and Mark can work together to build and implement the system."

"I'd be happy to help," Mark gave him a thumbs up.

Digritri beamed, looking between the captain and the head engineer. "Thank you, captain. I'll start designing the system right away." He moved to get up out of his seat, but quickly settled back down. He cleared his throat. "Is there anything else you need before I go?"

"Just one thing," Mark leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Do you have any embarrassing stories about Celci?"

Digritri's smile widdened, and he leaned forward as well. "She had a stuffed polar bear named Snuffles as a kid. She still sleeps with it."

"I do not still sleep with her!" Celci's face grew red, and the shade only deepened when she realized she referred to the stuffed toy as 'her'.

"Oh please, you would've brought that thing into cryosleep if it wasn't against protocol!" He erupted with laughter, and everyone else joined in. Even Celci managed a chuckle at her own expense.

"Well," Digritri places his hands on the table and stood up. "I'd better be off. I'll send you my schedule, Mark, see if we can't find a time to meet up. Thank you again, captain, for letting me be part of this crew. There's no one I would rather be alongside to protect this great colony of ours!" He just about ran out of the room in his excitement.

"I better go after him, he gets lost easily," Celci shook her head in amusement. "I'll see you at the team meeting." And with that, she left the room to chase down her brother.

Once they were alone, Mark turned and looked at the captain. They simply stared at the doorway, lost in thought. "Captain?" They looked over at him, though their gaze seemed distant. "You know him, don't you? Did you meet him during the incident?"

"No, sadly, I didn't," they said. They looked down at their hands, and smiled into their mug. "He just reminds me of an old friend."

#An old friend I- #sobs

[ruinedarcadefinallywrites]

question bc I've been out of the loop for ISWM headcanons - but like

If Celci was iswm's equivalent of Celine, would there be a Damien? Would he follow the temperature theme as well? Don't see how to make his name work, but like-

Would he be fiery and hot-headed, or cool and collected?

#Oh this is good shit

[ruinedarcadefinallywrites]

Can you tell us a bit about Fahren?

yesyeysyeywysyeyeysysyeys

Fahren is a diplomat who wasn’t a part of the original crew when they set off. He was brought on after the discovery of intelligent life, and the realization the planet may be inhabited. Welcome in Fahren C Kelvina, younger twin brother of Celcionna F Kelvina.

Pitch drew this of the lad and it captures him perfectly

Fahren dyed his hair a week before he got to the ship because he thought he already had a boring job compared to the others and wanted to look interesting

#twig talks #twig responds #fahren kelvina #fahren c kelvina #celci f kelvina #iswm #codi don’t look

[ruinedarcadefinallywrites]

Why Did You Bother To Stay?

Got talking on Discord about the possibility of a Damien counterpart in ISWM. Please ask questions about the boy he’s my little scrunkle. Thanks to @puppeteered-poetry for giving me the plot and brain worms.

A little fic on Celcis time in university, but will Fahren be there for the graduation?

WORD COUNT: 1.3K My longest fic yet (not a good start but oh well)

WARNINGS: A couple of swears, slightest alcohol mention

Eight years. Eight years on Earth. And it’s going to be their last. When Celci had first applied so eagerly to the academy, she, as everyone else applying at the schools first year of operation were told how much longer space travel would take. A beautiful dream that would be reached outside of their lifetimes, and how if they dedicated themselves to testing their fields, their children would see the stars.

How wrong they were. 

Barely halfway through that same year, the first ship had been launched. Reaching out to the edge of the galaxy before summer. The issue of the speed of travel (which has managed to cause significant damage to over half of the original crew) was remedied with cryogenics. By keeping the human body in frozen animation, the remaining crew made into Draco II in the second year

Just in time for a quick switch of her major, originally reactor management, to cryogenics. One of her classmates had been devastated by her departure, so much so that during lunch, he’d quietly set down a stack of twenty something poems for her. Tales of sorrow and what Celcis so sure were actual tears drops on the paper. (Burt later had to come up to her and apologize, explaining that she’d just been kind to him and would miss her. Apologizing for the immense amount but he’s just been struck with inspiration. Celci still has a few of the best ones scanned and saved to her phone.)

Third year, exploration ships with minimal crew were sent out. At least one every few months, and she was star struck when she was invited to study the effects of cryogenics on returning crew. People who’d engrained themselves as space age legends just by being aboard the ship, at least in Celcis eyes. Faren had teased her that she had a crush on the captain of the ship, and had perhaps asked for a few too many reexaminations.

Quickly devolving into a match of who can throw each other into the wall first broken up by a very eager air defense major. Gunther had been disappointed that no, no they weren’t actually going to fight properly and no, he could not join in. 

For the next four years, Celci completed a bachelors in cryogenics and decided to get a masters instead. “How on earth am I going to actually apply it properly if I don’t understand it?” A very familiar argument she’d had with most people, most of all Faren. It had seemed almost disappointing that he’d decided to drop out of his engineering courses, pursuing ethics and philosophy instead. 

“Faren please, why would you stay here? All of philosophy will change when the explorations prove we’re not alone. How can you just leave? We were going to do this together!” Unsure whether or not it’s rage or upset, Celci had decided on both. Watching him move around the room like she wasn’t there, repacking his dorm to move out of the academy completely. 

“And what would I do? There’s nothing interesting in engineering anymore. Learned how to create enough engines, and they barely have a difference! I want something that’s going to change rapidly, something that requires understanding!” During the half argument-half brooding fistfight, Farens hair had fallen out of its usual greased back position. Choosing to spike up like a wild animal ready to attack. Much more fitting to his current conflicted state. 

“I’m going. Maybe my work will have a purpose in your future, but yours certainly won’t in mine!” Temper getting the better of him, he’s pushing her out of the door. Locking it behind himself as he packs in a huff. Something breaks in the boxes, but there’s not enough care in him right now.

Four months later, and it’s meant to be graduation. Meant, because it doesn’t feel like she’s earned anything. Since he left, there’s been not a single message from Feran. Even when she tried calling from Marks phone, he picked up for only a few seconds. 

“Will you ever stop worrying? You’re going to be fine. Not everyone you know has to attend graduation. It doesn’t matter, you’ll want him there for something more important. Whatever you do after this is going to matter more than this.” Stopping her attempt at trying to keep that stupid cap on, she turns to stare daggers at Mark. Whatever he has been trying to adjust on his sleeves is dropped onto the floor, rolling underneath a table.

“Mark, I haven’t heard from him in months. He barely even talks to you anymore. It’s..we were meant to graduate together. Cyro and engineering get to work side by side, and he really loved it. At least I thought..”

Now, she can’t help but feel another pang of worry. She didn’t mean to push him away so far, down into what must be an abyss. Did he feel any regret about cutting off communication? Sure, he had flashes of rage, and a little too hot headed for his own good. In the end he always meant to be kind. Better than her most of the time, when she made decisions that were more cold that a can of liquid nitrogen.

Eventually something has to snap her out of the spiral, and it just happens to be a hard pat on her back. Enough to nearly double her over, and almost ready to smash someone in the face before she sees the apologetic face. Poor Burt always forgets his strength, used to smashing in bolts when the thread wears out. “Apologies. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be late. Wrote a poem for you as well. Perhaps somewhere in the universe we’ll cross paths again.”

Placed carefully on the table, it looks like a steamed over matchbook. A tiny scribble on the top signifying it’s another part of Burt’s poetry collection. “We are all children of the universe, so what honour would it be to embrace it so kindly?” Some hesitation hides in his words, like it burns up the back of his throat. Knowing that his lines will be back to haunt him eventually. Poetry is just part of reality, past or future. 

With a barely there smile, she nods. Mark patting her shoulders gently as he begins to walk past her. “We’ll be waiting for you. Come on, life is short after all. We could all be dead by tomorrow. ‘Specially if I’m beating..beating your..uh..brothers record..” Sheepishly, Mark goes back to adjusting the cuff links that aren’t there anymore. Sat and probably watching him spitefully from underneath the table. Leaving without another word to save himself, Celci is left alone. 

Most of the dorm is bare, prepped to move out first thing in the morning. Besides the essentials, she’s let herself hold onto one more thing. A singular picture of Fahren and her, from last year. Just before he was going to create the keg stand record Mark wanted to break, she’d managed to get him to look at the camera for a few seconds. Glitter shot out from the same air defense major who’d broken up their fight has covered them, giving Celci icy blue hair and Fahren burnt orange. 

Admiring the photo, she doesn’t notice the footsteps behind her. Only registering the presence when another hand is on her shoulder. Much smaller than Burt’s, and unrecognizable for a few seconds. Dreadful seconds where she turns around and socks them in the face. A very punchable face to Celci, and she only partially regrets it

Stretching out his now aching jaw, Fahrens dropped half the roses he brought for her. Strewn on the floor and crushed under their collective feet in the quickest fistfight they’ve had. “For fuck sake! Gods..all I did was touch your shoulder what th-“

Words are quickly smothered as he’s pulled into what’s more like a vice than a hug. At one point he’s sure his ribs are cracking from the pressure. “You little bastard. Four months and nothing? Screw you.” 

“There’s time to kill me later, I assure you. You’re going to be late”

#iswm #iswm fic #iswm celci #celci iswm #fahren kelvina #celci kelvina #engineer mark #head engineer mark #gunther iswm #Burt iswm #ruinedarcadewrites

[ruinedarcadefinallywrites]

Making

Chapter 1

700 words

Tw- Verbally abusive Derek, blood mention, mention of animal death, start of murder

Part of Eric wishes he’d had the guts to stand up six years ago. When he at least had some sympathy, lying in a hospital bed after the second accident. Derek just looked so distraught, panicked even, watching from his chair a few feet away. All he wanted to do was make him happy. Bring his dad back to the way he was, smiling as Eric tried his best. At least then his critiques weren’t said out loud 

He just didn’t realize how much he’d hate doing it. Now, he’s under the burning out studio lights, horribly sweaty in another sweater. Bright yellow with rosy mustaches stuck everywhere possible. 

“And! And uh, you too ca-can stay nice and to-toasty this summer! I-I..you ca-can stay toasty this wi-winter!” Somewhere to his right, there’s a burrowing stare from eyes that match his own, making the sweat darken the collar of the sweater. Refusing to make eye contact, he pauses before returning to the script. 

“You-you can ever uh, but one for your uh, your dogs! Then th-they can stay to-toasty this sum-summer! Like hotdogs! Or uh..like do-dogs in a car! But the-they’re fine! Win-windows open..and uh..they can es-escape!” Eric’s dog escaped the bus, just like he had. Rosie was out of the window, before quickly turning into a kebab as the metal plating on the side of the bus crumbled off in the heat of the fire. Like Damocles sword finally snapping from its thread. 

Finally, someone snaps him out of his daze by hooking a finger under his collar and tugging sharply. Its sudden motion makes him choke, stepping back to be forced into the gaze of Derek. 

“That’s a wrap everyone! See you tomorrow.” Words that seem to chant Eric’s doom as the studio quickly empties. By now they understand what happens after filming, and would rather distance themselves from the explosion than trying to diffuse the bomb.

“What the hell was that! Can’t you fucking read? The script was barely two pages and you’re out there monologuing!” Deciding that yelling on the studio floor was inappropriate, Derek has kindly moved his rant into a supply room. A few boxes of unsold and out of season sweaters sit in the corner, and repair kits for the cameras. 

Eric tries his best to be brave during these fights, standing up straight at the start of them and making the closest thing to eye contact he can stomach. Today, he’s lasted the longest, five minutes in and he hasn’t crumbled yet. Taking the stream of agony from Derek and trying to not say anything. Distracting himself by trying to count how many screwdrivers are in the toolbox closest to him. 

When his jaw is grabbed and he’s rudely forced into reality, his eyes refocus. A first from Derek, who usually never dares to touch him outside of a grab to the shirt. “Are you not fucking listening again? Your fucking mother..coddling you and saying you could follow your fucking dreams! And she leaves me, your brothers all leave me, with the son I don’t want! It always should’ve been you!” 

Something new fills his body. No longer flight or freeze. Fight. He hardly thinks when he lands the first blow to Derek’s chest. Not on the second, third, or fourth. Not even when Eric pushes him to the floor, pinning him down under the weight of his foot. 

Consciousness floods back into his mind when he feels Derek trying to knock his leg off. Plastic shifting and metal catching on his thighs. “Eric..Eric please..” wheezed Derek, gripping at the metal blade against his chest. Doing his best to try and lift it off of himself. 

Twenty-five screwdrivers. Eric only just counted them a minute ago, but he’s reminding himself as he pulls the toolbox off the shelf. Dropping it onto Derek’s hand and listening carefully to the two new sounds of the room. Bones being crushed and Derek’s broken sobs. Sickeningly, it’s delightful. Urging Eric to push more of those noises out of him. 

Maybe he wasn’t exactly steady in his hand, but it feels so easy when he twists the screwdriver in hand. One, two, three times, before it’s being jammed into Derek’s chest. He’d been too weak as he held it, and it has to be dug into get the result he wants. Unsatisfied, he tries again. Derek’s cries dissolve away, and so does Eric’s vision. Blacking out completely as he reaches for the next screwdriver. 

#ruinedarcadewrites #eric derekson #derek derekson #markiplier egos

[ruinedarcadefinallywrites]

#Time matters not to the circularity system

[ruinedarcadefinallywrites]

this is the shit I love to see. When I finally get a chance to write JJ he will not be sweet innocent bean. This man fought in WW1 and knows how to kick ass.

definitely see him being the hardest for Anti to break, mostly because he’s constantly hitting and kicking. Refusing to be taken alive

JJ Appreciation

I would like to talk about Jameson for a second.

Theres been a lot of talk in the community about him lately, and honestly I think he’s incredibly underrated and under utilized. (Not even talking about the people who have said he’s ‘boring’ because he can’t speak, something that, as a person with a speech disorder, I have some ISSUES with.)

A lot of people characterize him as just a sweet, innocent little man who likes his puppets and is getting terrorized by Anti. And that’s true! But it’s not even close to the entire story.

Of all of the egos that Anti has directly accosted on camera, (those being C!Jack, Schneep, JJ, and Chase.) JJ IS THE ONLY ONE WHO WE SEE ACTUALLY FIGHTING BACK:

Look at JJ here! He is not a passive victim, he’s fighting the bastard with everything he has!

No other victim of Anti’s has been able to do this. Not c!Jack in Say Goobye, not Schneep in KJSE, not Chase in Dark Silence/Anomaly Found.

On top of that, if Jameson is actually from the 1920’s and that’s not just a stylistic choice, he almost certainly fought in WWl. Out of all the egos except for probably Jackie, HE IS THE ONLY ONE WHO HAS SEEN ACTUAL COMBAT. JJ is no pushover.

I think the big thing a lot of people have been unable to understand is that kindness and weakness are NOT synonyms. ‘JJ is a kind, sweet man’, and ‘JJ would most definitely punch Anti in his stupid face’ are statements that should be able to coexist!

I leave with a request for JSE artists, writers and other creatives: let JJ kick some ass. He’s clearly capable, and I say the man deserves it.

[ruinedarcadefinallywrites]

500 Followers MEGA Mega Prompt List

(Thanks again for 500 followers, and sorry this took so long! 😊 ~ Mags)

1) "Do not enter that place! I can assure you, you won't come back out again."

2) "You expect me to have sympathy for you, after everything you've done? You expect me to feel sorry for you? To pity you? You make me sick!"

3) "Oh, pretty," they murmured. However, they only had to glance at the label hanging from the sleeve to know it was way out of their price range. "Nope," they sighed, shaking their head and making a U-turn towards the door, "too expensive."

4) They looked like a dragon, jealously guarding their precious hoard, but instead of gold and diamonds, it was a hoard of donuts.

5) "That is an obscene amount of glitter."

6) "We need time, supplies -"

"We don't have time. We'll have to make do with what we've got."

7) It felt like they were trapping themselves in, building their own coffin.

8) The drawing was terribly scratchy and amateur, but it was all I had left of them, so I treasured it.

9) They leaned in, offering an off-centered grin. "Ey, don't worry about it, we're harmless. We'll take good care of them."

10) "We like the way you talk, it really resonates with the youngsters."

11) "Can I marry you?"

"We literally met five minutes ago."

"... So is that a yes?

12) "Don't insult me!"

"Well, don't act stupid then!"

13) "What is all this... Stuff?"

"Research."

14) "The difference between you and me? I think on my toes. You... You think on your butt."

15) "Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. Tell me," they repeated relentlessly, not allowing me to eat, sleep, or have a clear thought in hours. "Tell me. Tell me. Trust me, I can go all night. Tell me. Tell me. Tell me."

16) "You have to help them! They're your family!"

"Huh, since when? I know one thing, they're no relation of mine."

17) "What a touching display of trust," the villain simpered, catching me off guard and holding the weapon up to my head. I couldn't comprehend what was happening; they were my friend, they had come to help me. They'd... Betrayed me?

"Ah, bless you," they murmured, and I could have sworn I saw a glint of guilt in their dark eyes. "Let down again, huh? You're just too trustworthy."

18) "I don't want to be a hassle."

19) They could smell the remnants of their shampoo on their hair, a rich scent of candy apple and cinnamon; it was intoxicating.

20) I walked down the street, my entire body so numb I didn't even notice when it began to hail.

21) Character A froze for a moment as they realized who had just come through the front door.

"Hey," Character B said quietly, offering a hesitant smile. "It's, uh, it's been a while..."

22) "You promised to protect me."

"Oh yeah, so I did. Ah well, I lied."

23) "If you buy one more single use plastic bottle, I'm going to shove your head inside and throw you out with it!"

24) "Quit complaining!"

25) "Don't leave me," they panted, all colour draining from their face and sweat beading on their forehead. "Please don't leave me."

"Never," I promised, gripping hold of their hand tightly. "You hear me? Never."

26) "It's my one weakness, I just love life too much."

27) Fluffy tails wagged unashamedly as I walked into the sitting room to be greeted by my best friends.

28) "Truth or dare?" Character A grinned. The silence stretched uncomfortably thin as they waited for a response. "I'm not playing your stupid games," character B finally replied, much to the annoyance of the other.

29) Tight ripped jeans and rock band t-shirts - they were everything I ever wanted.

30) "You gotta hand it to them," they said, shrugging their shoulders. "It's not a bad idea."

31) "Sing one more dreadful kid's song and I'm going to pull over and put you in a BABY SEAT!"

32) "Take a peek-see, tell me what you think."

33) Electric shocks ran through my entire body as I saw them stalk into the room. It wasn't them. It couldn't be.

34) "I don't know what happened between them," mum muttered with a sigh, swiping her hand across her brow. "Once, they were joined at the hip, now they want nothing to do with each other. I wish I knew why things changed so suddenly..."

35) They were the executioner, and I was the one being led to the gallows.

36) "It seems we've reached a disagreement. A fork in the road, one might say."

37) An abnormal pounding was coming from the back of their head, and pressing their palm to their hair to massage the spot that hurt, they retracted their hand, blood staining their fingers.

38) "The difficulty doesn't lie in you learning to love me; you already do. It lies in you learning to trust me."

39) I couldn't help but be impressed as I watched them down the entire bottle at once.

40) "You threw it in the trash! How could you?"

41) "Try. Please, just try."

42) That night was spent in the kitchen, trying to stop the sobs of their friend. When they realized there was nothing they could say to lift their mood, they had to settle with simply making them a cup of tea and waiting out the darkness with them.

43) As the elevator doors closed I rested my head back on the cool metal walls, shutting my eyes and trying to ignore the familiar nauseating feeling filling my stomach as the metal box descended the floors towards the exit.

44) "This," they breathed, eyes wide with terror, "this is immoral."

45) "You turn on the charm, get them on side, then I jump in and BAM! Karate chop to the spine!"

"Who put the child in charge of planning?"

46) "You owe me!" Character A yelled, grabbing Character B by the collar and pulling them close. "You understand me, you disgusting creature? You owe me!"

47) Their face was turning an alarming yellowish colour, like apple juice that had been left out in the sun.

48) "Imma just absorb all your negative energy and transform it into inner bunnies and chocolate!"

"... How much have you had to drink?"

49) "Everything they did," they sobbed, their nose running uncontrollably, "and they'll never face the consequences for any of it?"

50) "I have a reputation to uphold."

"Yeah? A reputation of being an absolute moron?"

51) "What am I supposed to do now? I've lost everything and everyone. I've got nothing left."

52) "You okay man? You're looking pretty rundown."

53) "Alright folks, let's do this! High-energy please! Let's have a great show tonight!"

54) "Kids don't come with instruction manuals. You learn on the job."

55) "Give it a week, you should be right as rain again."

56) "It's been an entire decade, and yet... I still miss them, despite everything."

57) "This plan is absolutely ludicrous, but..."

"But what?"

"... But I love it."

58) "We can't outrun this."

"No. But we can face it, head on."

59) "Don't worry. It's no biggie."

60) "Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you enjoy my version of the much beloved classical song... Hickory dickory dock!"

"Just sit down."

61) "What is this sorcery?"

"It's called a microwave."

62) "Forgive me. Please."

63) "How're they doing?" Character A murmured, nodding to Character C. "You know, after everything that happened."

"They're managing," Character B replied with no further elaboration.

64) My outlook on life changed completely the moment they told me never to forget them. Suddenly I had a purpose for being there; to live out the life they never could.

65) "Listen to me brothers! We will meet again under this sun, I feel it in my bones! So do not despair! Hold your heads high, sons of this great and noble kingdom, and wield your swords with pride!"

66) "If you can resist this," the tutor murmured, circling the concentrated student, "then you'll be ready."

67) "Good god, if self-worth was a computer file, I'd install it straight away!"

68) "I was under the impression that, you know..."

"What, that I was into you? What gave you that idea?"

"... Nothing, it was... Nothing..."

69) "What happened here?"

"Literally none of us have any clue."

70) They sat drumming their fingers on the table impatiently.

"They're late," they muttered to the empty room.

71) "I regret every decision I have ever made, because somehow they've all lead me to here, this hell-fire of a situation!"

72) They buried their face in their fleece, breathing in the thick, dusty scent that reminded them so vividly of home.

73) Their ghost followed me relentlessly, never letting me rest. You'd think a spirit would lack energy, but not this one; this one could run seven marathons and still be up for partying.

74) They were your usual stereotypical old-school teacher: stuffy, stuck-up, and completely devoted to the school they had taught at for over thirty years.

75) After the panic came the gut-wrenching acceptance of what had happened. They were gone, and they were never coming back.

76) "Calm down, it was just a suggestion!"

77) I watched them slowly unravel in front of me, their mind tangling like a ball of frayed wool.

78) "Follow my instructions and you will be safe. Don't, and risk being found by someone much worse than me."

79) "Don't rise to it. Don't take the bait."

80) Their skin was flushed a deep red, a grin spread from cheek to cheek.

81) "Tell me a bedtime story?"

"How old are you? 3?"

82) "Well, you see, it's just - well, I think you're - um, really, what I'm trying to say is -"

"Oh just spit it out!"

"I LOVE YOU!"

"... Smooth..."

83) "... And in conclusion, I lied about it all."

"... WHAT?"

84) "How about this? Instead of constantly arguing with me, you actually try to come up with a solution yourself!"

85) "Underneath it all, you're just a scared little child."

86) "My - my heart!" They gasped, grasping at their shirt. "I - I can't slow it down!"

87) "You broke me. But I'm better than you'll ever be, so get up and go. I'm letting you live."

88) "What I witnessed back then," they whispered, staring forward as if their memories were playing out in front of their eyes like a movie, "I'll never be able to forget."

89) "Character B is known to be pretty bad-tempered. Don't worry about it, it's not that they hate you, they just hate everybody."

90) "This is my best recipe, smoked salmon topped with a home made white sauce, with a side of asparagus tips and boiled potatoes."

"... Tastes like baby food."

91) An abundance of shiny round berries hung from the vines, glittering with dew like jewels in the early morning sunlight.

92) "Magic isn't real, you know that, right?"

"Are you sure about that?"

93) "You're petrified," the villain grinned, leaning in close to the shivering hero. "You don't want to admit to it, but you've never been this frightened by anything before in your life."

94) "Ahh, poor little hero," the villain grinned, squatting down next to the pale and bleeding hero. "All alone, here at the end of things, with only me for company."

95) "You can't just keep reusing the same old excuse time and time again! Just tell me the truth!"

96) They were the kind of person who'd wear sunglasses inside in the middle of the night.

97) I didn't understand the extent of the damage done till much later.

98) "You're such a bully!"

"All I said was that you have spinach in your teeth."

99) "I don't wanna trust you, but I need a new accomplIce, so you'll have to do."

100) "I need you!"

"Wow, now you need me? Bit late for that, don't you think?"

[ruinedarcadefinallywrites]

Exit: [Pursued by an Actor]

Perhaps there isn’t just one Engineer..(might write a sequel who knows)

Not again. That suffocating room that was barely bigger than bridge. Hadn’t he already fixed it? He was sure, when he laid down beside the warp core, hunger and exhaustion finally taking him again, that it was working. 

Was..was the captain there? No, it never works like this.They have to witness it, because they make it break. The wrench..sand..all of it. 

At the start of the warp core loop, he’d been slow to move. Waiting for the Captain and idling mainly. They’d show up soon, they always did. With that beautiful and or handsome face hidden by the helmet that reminds him of black holes he used to study. Back at the academy when he started work on being an engineer. Like the one he saw in the last loop. Or was it the first loop? 

It could’ve been years that he’s been at this. His attempts of keeping track of time (assuming he dies after three days due to dehydration) never works. The room resets, the warp core unchanging. 

Starting back at trouble shooting the cores processors, something begins to hum to life. Finally..he drops down to his knees like he’s seen salvation. He did it. Does this mean it’s broken? He can leave the core, and tell the Captain that he’s done it. They’ll be so proud, and they can finally start- 

As quickly as it started up, it’s died back down. Downgraded into an even worse state, with the glow of the core almost dead. 

“Now now..I think you’re getting ahead of yourself aren’t you? But..this is my story. You forget your place, Mark.” Marc’s voice bounces around the corners of the room, despite his form a step behind Mark. Cane tapping beside Marks feet, before beginning to crush the back of his calf with the end. Keeping him on the floor as he prepares his performance. 

“Good, you’re quiet. I do hate when I have to shut up by audience. Or more so..fellow actors. You were a great..not villain, not hero. Catalyst. That’s it. A perfect catalyst,”Mark winces, pressing his hands against the curves around to core to keep himself upright. 

Without care, he continues on. “But, I’m the star of the story, and I think it’s time I take over. Now, I know what I need to portray. Agony, mixed in with self hatred. And eventually, the hate of the Captain. It was their fault after all. Wasn’t it Mark?” 

Prodding him in the back, Marc pushes him down onto his face. Just underneath the glow of his torturous invention. Ignoring the quiet groans and pleads from the engineer, Marc pushes the heel of his shoe onto his spine. Revelling in the light pop it brings to the room. 

“I suppose it’s time to get out my curlers. Showtime baby.”

#ruinedarcadewrites #iswm #iswm fic #iswm fanfiction #engineer mark #head engineer mark #iswm mark #actor mark #iswm actor

[ruinedarcadefinallywrites]

105 Comfort Prompts

As usual, my requests and asks are open! if you do request, no smut please :)

WARNINGS: PANIC ATTACK, ANXIETY, DEPRESSION. ALCOHOL MENTION. CHEATING MENTION.

DIALOGUE: 

GIVING COMFORT:

“Hey, tell me what’s wrong?”  

“I’m here for you.”

“It’s going to be okay.” 

“Are you all right?” 

“You’ll be okay, I promise.” 

“What’s going on?” 

“Come here, let me hold you.” 

“Please, don’t cry.” 

“I have you.” 

“Take a deep breath.” 

“Tell me what you’re feeling.” 

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.” 

“I won’t leave.” 

“Why don’t we go on a drive?” 

“Let it out.” 

“Everybody makes mistakes.” 

“You’re all right.” 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay.” 

“Can I hold you?” 

“Do you-- can I-- do you want to be held?” 

“Do you want solutions, or comfort?” 

“I have chocolate/flowers?” 

“Do you want to watch a movie with me?” 

“Tell me what I can do for you.” 

“...Who do I need to punch?”

 “Come on, breathe with me.”

“You don’t have to be perfect.”

“You’re perfect just the way you are.”

“How can I help you?”

“Can I touch you?”

“Where does it hurt?”

“You’re allowed to be weak, you know.”

“You have this.”

“You’re never a burden.”

“You aren’t weak.”

“We’ll get through this.”

“Relax, I got you.”

“Please, just open up. I don’t want to leave you alone.” 

“They’re not going to get to you, I promise.” 

“Follow my breaths.” 

NEEDING COMFORT:

“This is stupid--I’m stupid.”

“‘M so weak.”

“I’m sorry I’m not strong enough.”

“I’m a burden, aren’t I?”

“I-- please, help.”

“I can’t breathe, I don’t know what to do-- I can’t--“

“I feel lightheaded.”

“I’m sorry. We were supposed to have fun today.”

“I’m getting your shirt wet...”

“Are you sure this is okay?”

“I should be stronger.”

“I don’t want to get out of bed today.”

“Hold me, please.”

“Why won’t you let me apologize?”

“Thank you for this.”

“I feel safe with you.”

“...You bought me chocolate/flowers?”

“Did you really drive all this way just for me? It’s two in the morning.”

“Is that my comfort movie?”

“You came all this way? For me? 

“I’m not worth the time you spent coming over here.” 

“Please, leave. I’m--” 

“...Why are you here?” 

“My problems are mine, I don’t want to be a burden on you.”  

“You’re too nice to me.”

“I’m a mess…” 

“I’m broken, don’t you understand?” 

“It’s raining. You should be inside. I’m fine.” 

"I'm sorry."

"Why can't you understand? You're too good for me!"

"I can't do this. I can't-- I can't-- I can't--"

"Just shut up! I'm not as good as you say I am!"

"Why do you care so much?"

"Am I really worth it?"

"Thank you for being here."

"I thought I'd be alone today after what happened... thank you."

"You don't know how much I appreciate you."

"Do I really mean that much to you?"

"Stop banging on my door!"

"I love you."

SCENARIOS

Your lover isn't feeling well, and even though it's probably dangerous to drive this late at night, you have to make sure they're all right.

Head between their knees, your lover has their back against the wall, and you're by their side, and trying to help them through whatever is troubling them.

Your best friend's lover broke up with them, and despite having no idea, you supply them with snacks and horrendous movies. At least they smiled at the end of it all.

Trying to keep a smile on your face through the weight of the world to not worry your lover. They figure it out anyway.

Standing in front of a mirror, hands against the counter, with tears dripping down your cheeks, struggling to get everything under control. Everything’s going well until your lover cracks the door open and asks if everything’s okay. It isn’t.

Seeing your lover break down over work/school/family, and trying to comfort them to the best of your abilities, heart breaking with every sob out of their lips. 

Struggling to sleep in you and your lover’s shared bed because they’re working in the living room/kitchen/their office and the bed feels far too cold and empty. Seeking their comfort, you curl up on their lap/beside them/around them. 

Knowing from the moment they said good morning that something was wrong, and trying to schedule your day to spend the most time with them; arms around their neck, waist, shoulders, to provide comfort.

Your lover’s back against your chest, you curled around them. Every agitated breath and erratic heartbeat pulsing through your skin, but slowly, it starts to fall over time. 

Your back against your lover’s chest, their slow heartbeat stark against your stressed one. Gently, the rise and fall of their chest lull you back to safety. 

Sitting in the car, your head against the headrest and mind spinning, but your lover’s hand firm against your thigh keeps you grounded to reality. 

Your ex is trying to embarrass you in public, but your lover steps in as a shield, eyes ablaze in a fury.

Your head against your lover's chest, tears drenching their shirt, they don't care about the wet fabric and just rub your back.

Lungs squeezed to death, you try to breathe through the overwhelming suffocation on your shoulders. Patiently, your lover holds your hands and squeezes them in time with their breaths, eyes gentle.

Your lover made a small/big mistake and they can’t get it out of their head. To everyone else, it was just a small mishap, so you spend a few minutes/an hour/the rest of the night holding and comforting them.

Done with the feeling of being an burden, you try to push away from your lover's comfort, only for them to drag you back into a firm hold.

Something horrible happened, but your lover won't answer the phone/any texts. Standing outside of your door, you threaten to start throwing rocks at their windows/slamming on their door if they don't give any proof that they're all right.

You found your lover on a cold metal bench, hair and clothing drenched, tears pooling down their cheeks. Instead of asking what's wrong, you put your jacket over their shoulders and open up an umbrella.

Your lover's burning up and for some reason keeps bursting into tears at the smallest things. You're a little bewildered, but stay near them all the same.

After an all-nighter, your lover's brain is scrambled, and they keep shedding tears when they think nobody's looking. After coaxing them into your arms, you curl into one another on the couch.

Your lover wakes up to you gasping for air, eyes wide as you just saw horrors beyond your own comprehension. They sling an arm around your waist and pull you close, face tucked against your neck. 

Underneath the blankets, you refuse to get out of bed. Despite feeling horrible about yourself, your lover refuses to leave you be and makes you breakfast, all with a gentle smile.

Your best friend's spouse cheated on them right before valentines day, so as their best friend, you spend the rest of the night trash-talking over bad rom-coms.

Your lover right beside you, comforting you as you weren't able to get the job you wanted/into the university you applied to. Their encouragement makes one more attempt seem not so bad.

Your best friend's drunk and wailing, and you're trying to both comfort them and stop them from climbing into the washing machine.