Markiplier Imagines

30 // Sir Yes Sir.

A/N: Hey guys! So, as a special gift, I'm going to try to update at least twice today, and try to get a couple out tomorrow. It's also a sorry for not updating yesterday, which I really am sorry about! Eh, anyway, sorry if this one isn't that good. Welp, I'll let you get on to the story while I write more! BYE!!!! (MERRY EARLY CHRISTMAS)

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"Sweetie," your Mom whispered, tapping on your shoulder, "it's time for the Christmas dinner." You groaned, turning around and nestling back into your pillow, already missing your dream. Your Mom laughed at you, ripping the covers off of you and calling down to your Dad to come and get you out of bed himself. Shooting up, you looked at your Mom, who was laughing hysterically next to your father. 

"You guys suck, you know that?"

They nodded, telling you to get ready for dinner before leaving your room. You sighed and picked up a picture of you and your fiancé, sadness overcoming you as you stared at the soldier. Memories came flooding back to when he had first told you that he was going overseas, and when he said the reason why he joined the army in the first place. "I need to do it, for my Dad, for my family, for my country, and for our family. It's one of the only ways I can assure that you'll be safe from people coming to hurt anyone and everyone they can get their nasty hands on." 

You knew that it was still a dumb idea, and you knew he knew the risks of going over there, but you supported him anyway. That was why you were such a good pair, and so in love: you always supported each other. But, even if he said he would do anything to protect you, your dog Chica, and the family you two were going to have, you still worried that he would make the ultimate sacrifice and you would be left alone.

Shaking your head of the sad thoughts, you set the photograph back down, going to your television and turning it on to the news, just so you could have some background noise while you got ready.

"─And in other news, we have three soldiers from overseas that were injured in a bombing. Phil, do you have more details?" The news had your full attention as it cut over to a man standing in front of three screens that showed the headline for what he was talking about.

"Yes, Haylee, I sure do. Three Seargent Generals," you froze at the mention of your soon to be husband's rank, fear settling into your thoughts. "Were caught in a tank explosion, as they ran over a landmine that hit the tank's fuel cell. Two were killed, while one was severely injured, and immediately taken to the medical bay. Their names were-" you watched as the three popped up, none of them saying Mark Fischbach, and none of them showing his picture. You fell back onto the bed as you took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. The thought that you could lose Mark like that made you scared to death; your heart wouldn't be able to survive without him.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, seeing half of a soul. The other half was there, but not here with you, his arms linked around your waist and his head resting on your shoulder as you stared at each other in the mirror like he was supposed to be. You started to tear up but told yourself that you wouldn't cry – and even if he wouldn't be able to come home – it was Christmas.

You got ready, slipping on an Army shirt, and a pair of jeans before doing your makeup, which pretty much consisted of a kitten eye and mascara. You smiled the best smile you could, seeing if it was convincing enough for everyone to believe, then walked downstairs from your old bedroom that you had been occupying while you were here in Cincinnati with your and Mark's family. 

Upon reaching the bottom step, you were ambushed by four dogs, Chica, Lucy, Buddi, and Maggie. Maggie was trampled by the four goldens, but still stayed resilient and made it to you and up into your arms with the least amount of paws in her face as possible. You giggled at all the dogs before you tried to push through them to the kitchen.