#simark

[tidal-rose-writing-dungeon]

Got another short Convineer thing. A little more angsty than usual but meh. Hope you like it.

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The metal was cold against Simon’s skin as he cautiously attached the prosthetic to the stump of his arm.

Maybe this time, it’ll be different.

His skin had stopped emitting that weird smell when it came in contact with metal. That was probably good.

He carefully raised his new left arm, extending it, getting used to the feeling of being able to control an upper limb on that side of his body again. Function-wise, it was exactly the same as the arm he had lost.

But it would never be the same.

Simon sighed as he looked in the mirror, using his prosthetic hand to brush a stray lock of hair behind his ear. The metallic fingers were cold and rigid.

He sighed again.

He moved his gaze from the mirror to the real fake arm, slowly rotating it and extending its fingers.

Suddenly he doubled over in pain and retched into the sink. Where the prosthetic arm met his skin, what was left of his real arm felt like it was burning. He could feel his flesh bubbling underneath the metal as familiar boils started to form around it.

He ripped the prosthetic off and threw it to the ground, then pounded his fist against the sink.

“Sorry,” he muttered to no one in particular. Some habits just never die.

He looked back at the stump of his left arm.

It was completely fine. No burns; no boils.

He sighed again.

Why is it still like this?

Why am I still like this?

It’s been over a year since I lost it! I should be over this bullshit by now!!

What’s wrong with me!?!?

He splashed water on his face.

There was a knock on the bathroom door.

“You okay in there?” Mark’s familiar voice called out. Simon sighed yet again.

“Yeah. You can come in.”

Mark opened the door with a smile.

“Hey, it’s almost time for lunch! You ready t–”

Mark noticed the prosthetic arm on the floor, and his expression fell. He sighed.

“Still not a fan of that thing, huh?

“I–” Simon shook his head. “Sorry.”

Mark sighed again and put his hands on Simon’s shoulders.

“Don’t be sorry. I built you that arm to try to help you, okay? I don’t want you wearing it if you don’t like it.”

Simon put his hand around Mark’s left wrist and nodded. Mark smiled.

“Next time I catch you trying to wear it when you don’t want to, I’m gonna melt it down for scrap and use the metal for something else. Got it?”

Simon blinked back tears, then nodded again and pulled him into a hug. Mark sighed yet again and eagerly returned it.

Simon’s one-armed hugs were the best he’d ever gotten.

[tidal-rose-writing-dungeon]

Another small Convineer thing. My touch-starved ass just wanted to write them being tender. No smut as usual but it does get the tiniest bit suggestive near the end. Enjoy.

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Simon slouched as he and Mark returned to their bedroom.

“Hell of a way to find out you’re allergic to citrus, huh?”

Simon just grumbled something indistinct. He kicked off his boots, then hopped up on the bed and sat cross-legged, facing away from Mark as he sat down behind him. Mark opened up a tube of ointment given to them by the Nurse.

Simon gently pulled his tunic off over his head. Mark felt his heartbeat quicken as he took in the sight. Sure, Simon’s back was covered in a nasty-looking rash, but it was still very nice to look at. Just like the rest of his torso, it was covered in healed-over scars, and the faint remnants of some particularly bad bruises could be seen throughout.

Mark cleared his throat.

“Okay, seriously– do you just… always wear that??”

Simon grumbled again and took off his harness. Mark couldn’t help but giggle. It was kind of cute how openly grumpy Simon was being. But it made sense– it was already pretty late at night. He was getting tired, too.

This was usually the kind of thing Simon would insist on doing himself. He’d never risk making himself physically vulnerable to someone else like this.

But, well… he trusted Mark. Not just as his lover, but as his friend.

“What’s it even for, anyway?”

“None of your business. Just hurry up.”

Mark wanted to hurry up. He was just a little distracted. He couldn’t stop staring at Simon’s back.

Was there any part of this man that wasn’t gorgeous?

Simon huffed.

“You just gonna stare at me, or are you actually gonna help?”

“Help! I mean, uh, I-I’m gonna help. My bad…”

Simon rolled his eyes as Mark took off his gloves.

Mark’s touch was firm but gentle; a habit picked up from years of working with delicate machinery. Simon gasped at the sensation of a foreign object on his irritated skin, but quickly the discomfort subsided. The ointment Liz had given him felt refreshingly cool. The pain and itching from the rash disappeared within seconds. He shuddered.

“You alright?”

“…Yeah. Keep going.”

The ointment brought Simon relief like nothing he had felt before. He took deep breaths as Mark continued to spread it across the rash. At points he felt like Mark was finger-painting, using his back as his canvas. The touch on its own was soothing as well. Simon started to feel sleepy as Mark went on.

Eventually the entire rash had been covered.

But now Mark was curious.

He tenderly ran a finger down Simon’s spine. He shuddered again and turned a bright red– or at least he seemed to from Mark’s position.

“You sure you’re alright?” Mark asked, a smile audible in his voice.

“You did that on purpose.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mark chirped as he did it again. Simon let out another involuntary shudder. He felt like his face was going to catch fire.

“Mark…”

Mark set aside the tube of ointment and started gently rubbing Simon’s shoulder.

“Mark,” Simon said sternly.

No response. Mark skootched forward and started planting kisses on Simon’s recovering back. It smelled weird from the ointment and left a tingling sensation on his lips, but he didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around Simon’s stomach as he moved the kisses up to his shoulders and neck.

Simon stifled a giggle.

Goddammit. He had forgotten he was ticklish. It wasn’t just the kisses that were getting to him– he could feel Mark’s adorably fluffy hair brushing up against his cool, bare skin as he went on.

“MARK.”

“Hm?” Kiss.

Simon let out a huff. Kiss.

“Can we… not do this right now?”

Mark pulled away.

“S-Sorry. I just…” He sighed and shook his head as Simon turned back around to face him.

Mark’s expression said everything his voice wouldn’t.

How’d I get so lucky, so as to have you?

Simon sighed as well. He couldn’t even be upset.

“I’m… just gonna go to bed, okay?”

“Okay,” Mark said, still smiling. He went in and gave Simon one last kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, buddy.”

[tidal-rose-the-space-dragon]

Why do I keep putting so much effort into these

[tidal-rose-writing-dungeon]

Screw it. I was gonna schedule this to post on the two-month anniversary of when I finished Stars in His Eyes and Blood on His Hands, but I’m an impatient bitch. Thank you again to anyone seeing this who read that, by the way. You have no idea how much it means to me.

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“So are you finally gonna explain why I haven’t been allowed inside my own goddamn bedroom all day?”

“First off, Simon, it’s our bedroom. And second, yes.”

“Yeah, whatever. So?”

Mark turned around, walking backwards while talking.

“As you know, just a couple months ago was the anniversary of you appearing on the Invincible II.”

“Yeah, the day we had the…” Simon still thought the name was kind of stupid. “‘Space Rave.’”

Mark smiled.

“Yep! But! What I think you may have forgotten is that today is the anniversary of… something else!”

“Something else?”

Mark stopped walking and grabbed Simon’s forearm, still smiling.

“Our anniversary.”

Simon sighed.

“Fuck. Was I supposed to do someth–”

Mark put a finger up to Simon’s lips and giggled upon seeing how it made him faintly blush.

“It’s alright. Now c’mon.”

He led Simon back to their room.

Nothing had changed.

“Mark, what…”

“Just watch!”

He turned off the lights.

Simon blinked and looked around. At first he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be looking for, but then he looked up. He let out a tiny gasp.

The ceiling was absolutely covered in glow-in-the-dark stars.

“I know they pale in comparison to the real thing, but…” Mark started, a smile audible in his voice.

Simon didn’t respond.

Instead, he squeezed Mark’s hand particularly tight, as though trying to transmit his thoughts via touch.

They’re perfect.

Mark looked over at Simon in the darkness. He could just barely see the glowing plastic stars reflected in his eyes.

“Love ya, buddy.”

The next words to come out of Simon’s mouth did so on reflex. He didn’t look away from the stars.

“I love you too.”

[tidal-rose-writing-dungeon]

The torture city Convineer fic is finally done. I’ve definitely written better, but tbf, I’ve also written worse. The point is, it’s finished.

Which means I can finally refocus my efforts…

…to the “Random Bullshit Go” Convineer fic.

Stay tuned.

[tidal-rose-writing-dungeon]

So I realized that, in Stars in His Eyes and Blood on His Hands, I made Simon take up drawing as a hobby only to… not really do anything with it. It’s not important to the plot, and throughout the rest of my fics in the continuity (so far, at least) it only even gets mentioned once.

I decided to write this to play around with the concept a bit more. As usual, no smut. Not sure whether to call it fluff though. Hope you enjoy anyway.

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Mark had never been a fan of cleaning, but if he wanted any chance of actually being able to focus on it, now was his best bet.

Simon was out walking Chica around the ship, and thus Mark was reorganizing their bookshelf.

The top shelf of the bookshelf was treated more like a makeshift filing cabinet, stuffed with Manila folders containing the pair’s (mostly Mark’s) important documents.

“Shit!” Mark hissed as he accidentally knocked a folder to the floor. Sheets of paper scattered everywhere.

Mark scrambled to pick them up, then suddenly realized what these papers were.

Simon’s drawings.

Even though he had known Simon for just over a year now and had been dating him for a significant chunk of that time, Mark had never gotten the chance to see his drawings. All he knew was that he worked hard on them.

He turned one of the papers over.

It was a drawing of him.

A really good one, as a matter of fact. He was surprised Simon had managed to do it with only one hand to his name.

It was a sketch of him from the shoulders up, smiling brightly.

He turned more of the sheets over as he picked them up. The entire folder seemed to have been filled with drawings of Mark.

Mark smiling. Mark eating. Mark working. Mark sleeping. All done with startling realism, save for tiny hearts drawn near the edges of a few of them.

God, he’s so cute.

As he went to put the drawings back in the folder, he noticed that there were markings on the inside.

There, in Simon’s handwriting, was a series of notes on Mark’s appearance.

“Hair is fluffy”

“Corners of eyes crinkle when smiling”

“Gloves missing three fingers”

“Stubble is faint” (“faint” was underlined)

“ALWAYS sparkle in eyes”

And so on.

He closed the folder and checked the label on the tab.

There, once again in Simon’s handwriting, were two words:

“My Star.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon returned from Chica’s walk to find Mark sitting on the bed, facing away from the door.

“Mark? Why are you crying?”

[tidal-rose-the-space-dragon]

I do like to imagine that Simon does get a little bit jealous when Mark spends one-on-one time with the Captain.

Like, he knows he has nothing to worry about. He wouldn’t even necessarily be opposed to polyamory if anyone suggested it. It’s just…

He likes having Mark all to himself.

So rarely in his life has he gotten anything he can really call his own, y’know?

[tidal-rose-writing-dungeon]

Hi again Convineer tumblr. I swear to God these two will never leave me alone at this point. So I wrote some more incredibly fluffy fluff.

No smut, but like. It’s basically the equivalent of smut for my sex-repulsed ass. Hope you enjoy.

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While sitting next to each other on the couch, simply basking in the metaphorical warmth of each other’s presence, Mark noticed something on Simon’s neck.

He didn’t know how he had forgotten.

The tattoo.

What was it Simon had said about it?

“Eden gave me a tattoo. The COI burned it off. I didn’t ask for either.”

Mark gently brushed the tips of his fingers across the scar.

Simon suddenly felt an unfamiliar sensation on his neck. It wasn’t painful; just odd. And also weirdly… pleasant? His stomach leapt as he found himself stifling a giggle.

He turned and glared at Mark, his face reddening.

“Fuck was that? Don’t do that.”

“Sorry. I just…”

The realization hit Mark like a fire extinguisher to the head.

“Wait, Simon, are you…” a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Ticklish?”

Simon very conspicuously avoided eye contact.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grumbled.

Liar.

“Ok, so what if I…”

“Mark, don’t you dare—”

Mark brushed his fingers across Simon’s scar again, and Simon turned an even deeper red as it became harder not to laugh.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you,” he growled through gritted teeth.

Mark just smiled harder. He leaned in closer, then reached down and smoothly slid his hands underneath Simon’s tunic, despite his best efforts to stop him.

“I’d like to see you try,” Mark cooed before deploying his next attack.

Simon couldn’t hold it back anymore as Mark relentlessly tickled his stomach. He burst out laughing harder than he had in a very long time. He fell backward onto the couch, causing Mark to effectively be on top of him.

Mark had never heard Simon laugh quite like this.

What started as giggles quickly turned into roars of laughter. The sound was music to Mark’s ears.

He barely noticed that he was doing it himself, but he had slowly started to move his hands further up Simon’s body while tickling him, causing his tunic to bunch up as they went.

Through the giggles, Simon had been fighting to push Mark off of him. Given that he only had one arm, it would’ve been difficult under normal circumstances, but now? With Mark’s fingers dancing lightly across his skin? It was next to impossible.

Then as his belly button suddenly became exposed to the cool air of the room, he had a realization.

Is Mark trying to take my shirt off!?

He considered for a moment.

Ugh. Why not? Feels good to laugh.

Simon practically ripped off his tunic and threw it on the floor beside the couch. Mark’s tickle attack stopped briefly as his face turned a bright red as well. Simon grabbed one of his wrists and guided his hand to another ticklish spot on his torso, then grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled him down for a kiss.

He had forgotten just how goddamn cute Mark was when he got flustered.

Before letting go of his head, Simon turned it so he could whisper in Mark’s ear.

“Don’t stop.”

The combination of Simon’s hand on his head and his warm breath in his ear made Mark turn a shade of red previously thought visible only to mantis shrimp.

“A-a-alright then! If you insist!”

The two of them were lucky that every bedroom was soundproofed, because otherwise Simon’s laughter would have echoed throughout the entire ship.