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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years

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Whatcha got there?

A dead body.

Prompt: ‘whatcha got there?’ ‘A smoothie.’

Tw: blood, murder or mentions of murder idk.

The house of Iplier seemed to become more lively within the night compared to as it was during the day considering that most of the egos were either supernatural or insomniacs. Tonight was no different as you were finishing topping off your smoothie with frozen berries to snack on afterwards; it would be considered a perfect evening had it not been for the sounds of people struggling to walk down the ivory staircase that lead into the foyer with constant curses whispered under their breaths and continuous stops as though whatever they were carrying was so heavy they had to take periodic breaks to catch themselves.

It was concerning to say the least because for all you knew one of them could’ve gotten hurt from doing something stupid and instead of going to the doctor, they just thought that they could walk the injury off instead. It happened with a lot of the egos but if there ever was an award for most reckless ego it would be a tie between Wilford and Bing. There was no need to go into specifics as to why that is but it was always them specifically who’d come back with a collection of scrapes, bruises and on some occasions even worse injuries.

Naturally you went to go and investigate on the pretence of indulging your curiosity from blooming into anything worse; you made your way to the doorway of the kitchen that gave you the perfect view of the staircase where you saw the red tuff of hair of Yandere and the burgundy turtleneck that stretched across Murdock’s broad shoulders. The pair were taking one step at a time as though one of them were potentially rigged to collapse and between them was a body bag and from that body bag hung a limp hand dripping blood on the pristine stairs in tiny droplets. Dark wasn’t going to like the mess as blood is known to be hard in getting out of things but you’d make sure that doesn’t happen because you didn’t want to wake up having to calm him down for something as trivial as blood on the staircase.

Neither of them has seem to be aware of your presence so you walked into the foyer with your smoothie and stopping at the base of the staircase to look at them as they carefully descended without dropping the dead body. “Whatcha got there?” You spoke aloud, catching them off guard as they’re hands instinctively let go of the body and watched on in silence as it slide down the remaining stairs until it’s cooling flesh was pressed against your sock covered feet as the limp hand was pinned to the floor. “A dead body.” Yandere said excitingly as he scampered down the rest of the staircase like a giddy school girl or an puppy who hasn’t seen their owners for twenty minutes until he was at you side.

“They can see that alright from the fucking blood trail we’re leaving behind.” Murdock murmured with distaste at the fact he got caught of guard as he slumped the rest of the way down the stairs to join the both of you before stealing your smoothie to take a sip to quench his thirst from all his hard efforts, “hey!” You cried smacking him on the arm as you yanked the smoothie away from his lips when you noticed that he was going to down the whole drink you spent awhile trying to perfect; only noticing the bloodied hand print he left behind until after you retrieved it and felt a sticky substance beneath your fingers. You almost gagged but managed to keep it inside before considering the drink a lost cause and handing it to Yandere who downed the rest of it.

“Where you planning on dumping this poor sap?” You asked, foot kicking the side of the dead body that hung out of the body bag from the slide down. A normal person would’ve screamed bloody murder before calling the authorities but you’ve been exposed to many of the egos murderous tendencies that you’ve later became decensortised and numb to it all. The smell of blood became regular to your sense that it might as well be a cologne or a perfume at this point from how often you’ve smelt it. “Where we always hide our bodies.” Murdock said as though it was completely obvious while Yandere picked out the frozen berries that submerged their way to the bottom with his bloodied fingers but you didn’t have the heart to stop him from doing so since he looked so joyous.

“The supposedly abandoned woods on the outside of town that no one goes to? Aren’t you scared that one day the police with find all the bodies hidden there?” You didn’t really need to ask because you already knew the answer to this, Dark always covered up whenever one of the egos killed as to keep the authorities from ever finding out. It’s worked out so good so far but you just feared that one day Murdock or Yandere would slip up and get caught; which would then lead to a potential full scale investigation for the other missing people that they’ve killed and there wouldn’t be a thing you could to to stop them without coming across as an accomplice to their madness. You have voiced this worry countless times but we’re always greeted with the same result, “those unqualified chumps? Oh please y/n we’re professionals at this craft, we know what we’re doing,” Murdock placed a gloved hand under your chin so that you were looking into his beautiful ruby red eyes that he hide behind a pair of black shades just as Bing hid his vibrant orange ones, “you don’t got to worry your pretty and/or handsome head about that from ever happing.”

“Yeah! We’d never let them catch us y/n, even if they did, they’d have to die for keeping me from my senpai.~” Yandere said menacingly through gritted teeth and a crazed look in his eye as every muscle in his body tensed before relaxing within the blink of an eye. “Yeah…I’ll let you both get back to what you were doing and I’ll clean up the blood before Dark find outs and has your guts for garters.” You patted the pair on the shoulders but before you could retreat to the kitchen for cleaning supplies Murdock caught you hand and pulled you back in front of him. “Before you do that, we need someone to open the door for us so we can actually get rid of the body.” He points out as he and Yandere then lifted the body into their arms while you rush towards the double doors to open one of them as the pair passed you by and into the night before shutting the door behind them to then retreat to the kitchen for cleaning supplies for the blood. This was going to be night you’ll never forget for the wrong reasons.

#markiplier egos imagines #markiplier egos imagine #markiplier egos x reader #yandereiplier imagines #yandereiplier x reader #yandereiplier imagine #murderiplier imagines #murderiplier x reader #murderiplier imagine #markiplier x reader #markiplier imagine #markiplier imagines #tw:blood #iplier egos imagine #iplier egos x reader #iplier egos imagines

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otterlyinluv · 1 year

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A touch of darkness (pt.1)

Link to part 2

Summary: Dark convinced himself he must stay as far away from you as possible for your sake. That all changes when you start experiencing feelings you hadn't before.

Pairing: Darkiplier x DA!Reader

Tags: sfw, pining, proximity, general confusion caused by feelings

A/N: This is the first time I posted my writing somewhere. Hope you like it! (there will be more romance in the next part)

Word count: 1.2k

Damien, who always made sure you knew he was with you by touching you. Holding the small of your back when guiding you places. Putting a hand on your shoulder when you were getting mad at someone. Leaning into your touch when you held him.

But when you showed up at the new ego manor as a reincarnation from the mirror, Dark felt conflicted. You looked like the person he used to hold so frequently it became second nature. Even your soul was the same. But you weren't who you used to be. You didn't remember. At first, he kept a distance from you. Not an obscenely big one just enough to respect your private space.

And after a suspiciously short amount of time, he felt as if he was missing something. He felt an itch of sorts.

He found his eyes wandering to your hands. He wondered what it would be like to hold them. How they would feel compared to his. After thoughts such as these, he would shake his head in hopes that it would keep any similar ones at bay. After all, you were not his anymore.

You were extremely confused. Any time you stood next to Dark to point out something on his computer, he always moved away even if it was just by an inch. Every time you tapped his shoulder to get his attention, he would stare at your hand for a split second. Even if you accidentally bumped into him, he would visibly freeze. It was official. Dark most probably hated you. Okay, maybe hate was a strong word, but he didn't want to be close to you, that's for sure.

You didn't even know why you minded it. You got plenty of hugs from Wilford and the occasional hand around your shoulder from Illinois, so it's not like you lacked physical contact.

While you were sure he at least tolerated you, he obviously didn't want to spend more time with you than necessary. But, seeing as you two worked together rather often, you were in a rather bad situation. You didn't want to make him uncomfortable. So, you tried not to invade his personal space as much as you could.

A knock on your already open door disturbed you from your task of tracking down where Mark could possibly be. Not looking up from the screen, you uttered a quiet "Come in". The familiar sound of dress shoes made you tear your eyes away from the computer. Dark stopped just in front of your desk.

"Oh. Hi, Dark."

He didn't usually come into your little corner office. If you could call it an office. You were the one to look for him when you needed something or to share any new discoveries.

"I received complaints about the computers... I worked out the issues with the others already."

"Oh, okay..." You let him join you on the other side of the desk. But before you could leave him your chair, he reached for the computer mouse and put his left hand on the other side. Which meant you were trapped between his arms. Great.

To ease the increasingly awkward atmosphere, you said: "I thought Google fixed problems with computers."

He replied after a couple of seconds. "It's more of an organizational issue. His program doesn't extend to the placement of the files."

You nodded your head. You could feel his shoulder on the back of your head. Whether it was his shoulder or not was only a guess. You've never been this close before. Given his distaste for such closeness, he must have been suffering.

Instead of focusing on your proximity, you opted to look at the monitor. Search by name. Copy. Paste to another folder. Search through already existing folders. Copy. Paste.

You couldn't understand why he insisted on being the one to rearrange the misplaced files when you were perfectly capable of doing so yourself. Granted, he was much faster and more efficient than you would ever be. The room was filled with clicks and your rapid heartbeat. He still hasn't moved from his original position. In fact, it seemed as if he was even closer than in the beginning.

He let out a deep sigh, which you felt on the top of your head. You assumed it was because he couldn't find the file he was looking for. Or you would, have you not been so terribly plagued by thoughts racing in your head.

"There are only a few files left." There was a deep rumble in his voice that you wouldn't have heard if he wasn't so close to you. You weren't used to this. At all. He always made it seem like he wanted to be as physically far away from you as possible, but with the way he stood right now...

You didn't mind it as much as you should have. The lack of distance felt suspiciously comforting even though it was something you weren't used to. It was quite peculiar.

"That should be all of them."

His hand started withdrawing from the mouse, so you turned around to thank him when you froze. His face was mere inches apart from your own. You didn't expect him to be so close. Because of the proximity, you noticed his eyes weren't a deep shade of brown like many of the other inhabitants' of the mansion. They were black like a starless night sky. The color was rather pleasing. For a split second, you could've sworn you saw his eyes flick to your lips. But before you could confirm whether it was actually true, his gaze was back in your eyes. He drew in a sharp breath.

"I... I should go." He shook his head, but you caught him by the hand before he could move any further.

"Wait. This seems familiar." His body went rigid at your words.

"Familiar in what way?"

"I don't know just you, me... us?"

His eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"Are you doing this? Have you discovered a new power of influencing minds and are testing it out on me?" Your lips spread in a cheeky smile.

"That is ridiculous." He said sharply. "Even if I had that sort of ability, I would never use it on you."

His tone of voice was harsh, but his eyes... Slightly wide, eyebrows furrowed as if he was offended by your accusation, but his eyes held feelings. Fear. Though you were unsure what exactly he was afraid of.

He pulled his hand from yours with surprising gentleness.

He opened his mouth as if to say something but shook his head. "I believe my work here is done."

Fixing his suit jacket lapels, he started making his way to the door.

You stood up abruptly.

"Wait!"

He stopped and turned towards you slowly.

You yourself were confused about your sudden urgency for him to stay. You half expected him to simply shake his head, chastise you for wasting his time, and go wherever he needed to go. But he didn't. He stood there. Waiting.

"I... I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."

You swore something akin to disappointment appeared in his eyes before his look became neutral once again. He nodded his head and left the room.

You sank back in your chair. Why did you just do that? There was a foreign pang in your heart after you heard the door close. With each of his steps turning quieter and quieter, you felt like you were... missing something. You could not figure out what.

But maybe someone else could help.

#x reader #reader insert #darkiplier x reader #dark x reader #darkiplier #damien x da #wkm damien #damien the mayor #markiplier egos #iplier egos #writing #fanfic #imagines

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darkiplierxreader · 2 years

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Darkiplier for the fluff prompts with 2 and 9. (:

2. “You make a good pillow.” 9. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

Good Morning

Slow kisses against your neck woke you from your slumber, slowly trailing down to your collar bone. A gentle hum emitted from you as the kisses continued. “Good morning.” Dark’s deep voice rumbled upon hearing your hum, his kisses ceasing.

“Good morning.” You mumbled back, your eyes remaining closed. His arm was wrapped around your waist, his head resting down on your collarbone after a few moments, a content sigh emitting from him. “Sleep well?” You ask quietly, one of your hands coming up and tangling in his hair, your eyes remaining closed.

“I did. Did you?” he asked in response and you nodded. He hummed a little, your hand slowly starting to run through his hair. “You make a good pillow.” he muttered, making you smile a little. “Do I?” you asked and he nodded.

You could hear the gentle chirp of birds outside, their morning melody beautiful sounding, as always. You didn’t have to check the clock to know why at time it is, since Dark usually woke you up with good morning kisses around the same time every morning. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” You spoke after a few minutes of silence, the blankets down to both of your waists, exposing your upper halves to the lukewarm air.

“Me too.” he agreed, his arm tightening around your waist a bit, your hand carding through his hair.

Slow mornings like this was one of the many things you enjoyed with Dark. A gentle wake up and a few soft words exchanged between you two. You really didn’t want to move, being very comfortable where you were. You in his arms and him in yours. Though, you knew you both would have to get up eventually. But you hoped to be like this for a while longer.

#darkiplier #darkiplier x reader #darkiplierxreader #iplier egos #iplierego #markiplier #markiplieregos #prompt #request #iswm #iswm part 2 #iswm part two #darkiplier x y/n #ahwm darkiplier #darkiplier/reader #darkiplier fluff #darkiplier imagine #fluff prompts #fluff

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chocolatte-and-despair · 2 years

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Hi Can you make a Yandere Headcanon for dr.plier with a nurse Y/N

Homie yells shut up nurse at them

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

It's one of marks egos

Dr. Iplier

For the good doctor, you were an everyday neccessity. You were the sweet to his cruel. If he was brutal and honest, finding his patients pain hilarious, you were the one who would give them a candy for consolation. To be honest, you probably were the only reason he wasn't reported for his bad behavior yet.

Iplier had always valued you as someone who made his life a lot better, not only when it came to the social part of his life, but simply his work too.

You were a needed individual for him to function correctly, so why did you want to leave him?

When you told him that you wanted to create your own practice with your partner, he was shocked.

When did you start having a personal life?? You actually knew more people than just him?? He couldn't believe the betrayal!

He will have to fix that, so you would go back to work, won't he?

#yandere markiplier egos imagines #yandere imagines #markiplier egos imagines #yandere markiplier egos #yandere #yandere markiplier egos headcanons #yandere headcanons #markiplier egos headcanons #dr. plier #dr. iplier #yandere dr. iplier

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aceforwhatevenisthis · 1 year

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what do you think christmas would be like in the iplier ego household

i like to imagine it’s absolute pure chaos and multiple bribes to get the more antisocial egos to join in

#markiplier egos #markiplier #ace speaks #absolutely half of the iplier egos were bribed by wilford or smth #also because i’m stuck in 2018 the jse egos are invited too #imagine host or google forced to be with people #and dark trying not to lose his shit or smth because it’s christmas and he’s probably a softie at heart #it may be the 26th but it’s christmas somewhere right now so it still counts

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yuckie-obsessive · 1 year

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Double Trouble

Uh-oh… been thinking about a double possessive x reader 👀

So been thinking about if you got both of the boys in the same room and they only barely tolerate each other because you’re there. I’ll try to make it gn

Tw: brief talk of Anti’s “neck incident” and swearing

Darkiplier x Reader (gender neutral) x Antisepticeye

Set up: you are just chilling with Anti (just imagine a living room) and Dark arrives because he wants to talk with you about something and Anti gets real defensive and clingy.

~★~

“They aren’t your prisoner, you know. They can talk with whomever they wish,” Dark was already irritated with Anti’s shenanigans.

“Yeah, well you’re in my home, my fucking territory. You don’t have a fucking say here!” Anti was getting angry a lot faster than the other alter- as per usual. Dark sighed, “Does this really need to be an issue every time I wish to see them? They already stay with you, why do you insist on being selfish?”

“Cause I know what’s safe for them, and they don’t need to be around you or any other insane ego in your little group.”

The iplier egos were never all that harmful towards you, though. Only Dark and Wilford ever seemed to have interest, to which Dark would always ward off Wilford’s more… extreme tendencies.

Dark sneered in response, “You know what’s safe? The one who brought a knife to their own neck for entertainment-?”

“THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THEM!”

Things were growing heated fast. You decided to quietly step away to let them work it out (in their own special way).

“Dollface, hey,” arms wrapped around your torso, making you stop, “where are ya going? I was just messing around…” Anti mumbled as his face brushed up beside yours.

“Just a minor spat is all,” Dark stepped in front of you and took your hand, “takes more than a couple harsh words to send me away.” He placed a soft kiss to your knuckles.

Anti growled and his hold possessively tightened, “would certainly make my life a lot easier… I think they prefer me anyways,” he chuckled a bit and started a trail of kisses along your neck.

Dark’s expression twitched only slightly at this, but remained overall neutral. He brought his free hand to your face and maneuvered yours to rest on his shoulder. “They just need to see what I can offer…” his chest pressed up against yours, now pinning you between the two extremely dangerous beings, “I can entirely rewrite reality at your command.”

His lips connected with yours in a rather soft display of affection, catching you off guard with how gentle he was being. He separated for a breath, “say the word my dear, and I will give you the world.” He captured your lips once again.

Anti huffed. “Darlin’ you already have the world with me,” he whispered into your ear, making you shiver only for Dark to deepen the kiss to bring your attention back to him. “What could he possibly have that I don’t, hm?” Anti placed a small kiss behind your ear.

Dark separated to glare down at him. “Humility and grace certainly comes to mind.”

With that, they were at it again. Attempting to one-up each other for your attention.

You, at their mercy, had one hand clutching at Anti’s arms and the other clawing into Dark’s suit jacket, there was hardly anything you could do to stop them. Your mind, being as flustered as it was, probably wouldn’t let you do much of anything if you could.

#antisepticeye #ego #anti #jacksepticeye egos #darkiplier #dark #markiplier egos #darkiplier x reader x antisepticeye #darkiplier x reader #antisepticeye x reader #reader insert #kie writes #kie’s post #text #drabble #possessive

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strawberryamanita · 9 months

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Been thinking about Darkstache being such dads in the ego manor

Esp Wilford with Eric Bing and the Jims

And Dark with Googles(s) and Yandere

The way you read my mind just now omg

Literally just imagining the Ipliers being their wonderful gremliny little selves, and Dark just calmly picking them up by the shirt collar and dropping them back in single-file like they were kittens gldbsmshsjajahdjdns

#my brain is a little ✨️😊🙃🥳🥺💟 rn lol #markiplier egos #the ipliers #darkiplier #wilford warfstache #eric derekson #bingirl #bing irl #bingiplier #the jim twins #the jims #jim news #google irl #googleirl #googleiplier #googleplier #yandereplier #yandereiplier

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faeriescorpio · 2 years

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sorry you can’t imagine what living in the iplier ego mansion is like. I can tho

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peachyloveswriting · 1 year

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Smol request for Damien and The Host {Seperate} Reader asking for comfort due to the anniversary of a loved one kinda sneaking up on them and they just aren't prepared mentally on the day? (fanfic/imagines or headcanons. up to you.)

ANNIVERSARY FOR DEATH --- (Host & Damien x reader)

SUMMARY: while visiting an old friend you realize that today is you sister's birthday, thing is, she passed away a few years ago and this year it hits you hard. But Damien is here to comfort you.

While at home cleaning the kitchen your phone buzzes with a reminder of your father's recent passing. Unexpected, you break down into tears. Host appears to help you.

CONTENT: angst, mentioned death, grief, soft Damien, Wilford content, host is baby, he protecc

TAGLIST: @batty-the-red-koolaid-man @abbzzzzz @dragonangel201 @crustydustycowboi @crazy-obsessed-enby

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

DAMIEN --- hurt/comfort

Today you're visiting the Iplier Manor. It's not a special occasion, just a simple visit to see Damien. It's been a while since you last saw him and you owed him a visit.

Walking up to the door you grab the handle and push it open. Thankfully you don't need to knock anymore. Everyone's known you for so long that they know when it's you coming in. Wilford is the first to greet you.

"It's about time you came to see us." He says as he twirls in front of your path. He's not wearing the bright pink wig he likes to wear on occasion, his hair is just combed gently in the top of his head while he's dressed in his shiny pink shirt.

You smile kindly and shut the door behind you. "I know it's been awhile. I've been busy and all." You explain as you begin to press further into the house with Wilford right on your trail. As you climb up the stairs Wilford speaks behind you.

"You're going to see him again aren't you?" Pausing on the steps you turn to look at him. There's a twinkle in his eyes as he smiles up at you.

"Yes. Is that so wrong?" You retort.

Wilford shakes his head. "No. Not at all. You just spend a lot of time with him."

You turn and shrug him off. "I'll hang out with you soon Will. I swear by it." He watches as you make your way down the hall before disappearing from sight. Reaching Damien's door and lifting you hand to knock you hear him call out.

"Come in dear. You know you don't have to knock." He says. Damien does this a lot. He knows what you're about to do or what you think without even realizing it. It's like a strange sense he has. You've come to enjoy it over the time you've known one another.

Grasping the door handle and twisting, you push the door open to reveal Damien sitting in the chair beside the window. His jet black hair is slicked back as usual and his suit is ironed out across his body. He sits with his hand under his chin and his eyes looking out over the mansion grounds. He seems contemplative.

"Hey." You hum as you walk over to his bed, closest to where he sits.

As you settle he finally looks over at you, his dark brown eyes softening as he smiles. "Hello dear." He purrs. It's a nickname you very quickly adopted a few months ago. All the Ego's have their own names for you but his is the most significant. "How have you been keeping?" He asks.

As you open your mouth to speak your phone buzzes against your leg. The alarm starts playing and you hastily fish it out of your pocket.

"I'm sorry." You mumble as you flip the screen over to read the words at the top of your screen. Watching you carefully, Damien notices your face falls as you dismiss it. He quirks a brow, curious, but stays quiet.

"I was fine." You finally say as you toss your phone down beside you. It was a reminder for your sister's birthday. She would have been eighteen today. Raising your hands to you face, you wide at your now wet eyes.

"I'm sorry, I just realized it's my sister's birthday today." You tell Damien. He leans forward with his elbows now resting on his knees.

"Why be upset about it?" His words only hurt you more, with the tears beginning to slip down your face. He doesn't know about it, you never said anything. Now just so happened to be the wrong time.

"She's not exactly...here." Looking up at him through blurry eyes you sniffle. "She passed away a few years ago."

The curiosity in Damien eyes fades and he frowns, sadness swirls in his eyes. Lifting his hand he reaches out to rest it on your knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Oh. Love. I'm so sorry." Standing from his chair Damien quickly settles next to you on the bed and pulls you into a hug. His hands rub your back to soothe you as your cry into his shoulder.

"Sh...it's okay. I'm here." He whispers as he moves a hand up to the back of your head, this thumb gently rubbing back and forth.

Pulling back with soaked cheeks and a red nose you look down to see a wet spot on his suit. Reaching for it you swipe at it with you hand. "I messed up your suit." You say shakily. Damien looks down to observe it before smiling sweetly.

"No worries, I have others. You can use is as a tissue for all I care. What ever makes you feel better."

Wiping the tears from your eyes you let out a small laugh. "I'm not going to blow my nose in it."

Damien rests his hands on your shoulders. "I know. But I'm getting my point across. Aren't I?"

You nod before pulling him into another hug. "I'm going to have to go buy her flowers and visit her soon. Can you come with me?" You ask.

Pulling back again, you sniffle. He nods softly, his hands grabbing yours. "Of course dear."

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

HOST --- hurt/comfort

Music plays from your TV as you move around the kitchen, wiping off counters and placing dirty dishes in the sink to be washed later. As you do this your phone begins to go off from it's spot in the livingroom. Confused, you make your way over to check the lit up screen.

As you come closer you can see that it's an alarm buzzing your phone. The words on the screen reads very clearly: 1 YEAR SINCE DAD PASSED.

Picking the phone up you stare at the screen your eyes burning as tears begin to well. Taking in a breath to keep composure, you crumble. Your tears spill over as ugly sobs leave your mouth, the thought of not even being able to say goodbye hits you hard and you hobble your way into the couch. As you reach it and shakily dismiss the alarm, you curl into yourself; your knees against your chest and your arms holding them tight.

At a really young age you mother divorced you father, custody battles were fought and eventually he won. Soon after he married your step mother, Miranda. She was sweet when he was around but she despised you for not being her own. Though she never treated you unjustly. After you moved out, she made everyone on your dad's side of the family cut contact with you, no one helped, called, or visited. Except for your dad.

He called you every night, sent you flowers on your birthday, and wrote you letters on the holidays. He was the only man you could love more than your boyfriend: Host. Now he was gone, passed away from stage four brain cancer.

It's all you can do to stop yourself from screaming. Screaming until your voice gives out.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

At the Iplier Manor.

Strolling down the up stairs hallway towards the stairs, Wilford begins to hear a shout from the small library downstairs. Curious, he stalks down the steps. As he does the voice calling throughout becomes clearer. Someone's calling his name and they sound distressed.

Jogging at a light pace he pushes the door to the library open to find host hurrying towards him.

"Take me to her." He begs.

Wilford is confused. Host is babbling incoherently under his breath as he reaches out for him, his hand grasping his shirt sleeve. "Take you to who exactly?" Wilford asks.

Host mumbles under his breath before he finally speaks coherently again. "Y/n." He says. "Take me to her. Wilford's foggy mind clears once he realizes who the Host is talking about. He wonders why." His furious narration worries Wilford who gives in to the Host's request.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

Minutes have passed yet nothing has eased your mind, the tears just keep coming. Every thought of him the crosses your mind sends you into a babbling mess. Knowing you're alone makes this worse, just the thought alone making you realize just how much of a sob story you really are.

Lowering you head and covering your eyes you sob into your hands. Suddenly, hurried footsteps pull you from yourself. Looking up you're tacked into a hug. Wilford frowns from where he stands in your kitchen before disappearing from sight. Mumbling in your ear is the familiar voice of Host. Precariously he sits beside you, holding you against his chest and you cry.

The hand on your back holds you in place while his other holds your hand, his thumb gently brushing over your cold knuckles.

His narration continues on above you as he comforts you. Not once does he offer words of reassurance or words of anything other than his slowing narration.

Turning your head to the side you gaze at his hand holding yours and sniffle. There's no need to ask Host how he knew you were upset, you already understood that. Hence why he didn't need to say anything to you once he arrived.

Taking a deep, Shakey breath you pull away from his grasp. Looking up at him you squeeze his hand. "She wants to say thank you but Host already knows this. He wishes to caress her face."

Smiling lightly, you lift his hand to your cheek. He's gentle as he wipes away your tears.

"I am sorry I was not here sooner my Love." He says. Leaning into his touch you close your eyes.

"It's okay. I didn't mean to make you rush. I would have been okay eventually. I'm just glad you're here now." Reopening your eyes you spot a glimmer of red falling from the fabric over his eyes. Frowning, you rub the blood away with your hand.

"You're bleeding again."

He sighs. "Worry about that later. Let's go buy him flowers."

ENDING NOTE ---

Honestly you can tell who my favorite is but I head cannon that Host talks two different ways depending on what's happening. Sometimes he'll talk in third person and others he'll talk normally, I love that idea.

#the host x reader #markiplier egos x reader #damien x reader #damien the mayor #markiplier cinematic universe #ahwm x reader #iswm x reader #hurt/comfort #markiplier x reader #wilford x reader #if you squint

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years

Text

Upon his skeletal steed, is this death that I see before me?

The necromancer (from the mystic crystal by NSP) x reader.

Tw: death, blood, murder, angst.

He rode upon a skeletal steed who’s mane and tail were that of haunted green flames as their eye sockets were glowing husks of light. A terrifying sight to some as his forth coming were grave indications of death and chaos which trailed behind him like a cloak of pure darkness. The necromancer was a wicked, wicked man who’s heart was only capable of producing the most heinous acts of evil known to man. Yet you knew him before he was known as Necromancer, to you he was and still is Mark, your dearly beloved friend who had lost his way in his pursuit of becoming more despite how heavily looked down upon his magic was even now.

Mark was one of the best magic users the school had ever seen, they once praised him but when he found out that those praises were only so they would be spared from being used as his undead minions later on in life and not genuine appraisal for his craft. This soured him so yet he at least still had you to be upfront and blatant with him; having come from a lineage of dark magic wielders yourself you knew what was to be expected when people got wind of such and instead embraced it to the fullest. There had been many attempts in taking your life by those who saw your mere existence as a omen for bad things yet to come and plague their lives; Yet you survived with the intent to spite them all.

Mark was the only friend you made there and you were his only friend; yet things changed, they always end up changing for better or for worse. Neither of you were powerful to stop that day where you were both forced to be up in arms against one another when one night as the school was sound asleep, Mark had his undead minions cowardly slaughter everyone in their sleep yet when they entered your room they only stood still as though awaiting commands, blocking your only way out in the process. You were at first frightened of what was to come next but you were more then willing to go down trying to fend for your school; so as you were reading yourself for an uneven fight of two against one Mark, face covered by the black mask that he was know for in present day, dressed darkly as the cloak billowed behind him as the undead got down on one knee before his presence, causing him to smirk pridefully before his dark eyes caught onto the betrayal your face portrayed.

He didn’t want to kill you like he did the others, after all you were the only one who blessed him with basic human decency yet it wasn’t enough to keep him away from delving headlong into the darkness that had been calling his name in the depths of his dreams, calling to him with promises of power and a potential future where you’d rule by his side. Who was he to pass up such a tempestuous offer? His vision was too obscured to the obvious fact that these were nothing more but false promises built upon the unspoken feelings he had yet to admit himself. Now that reality would never come to pass as soon enough a fight broke out between the both of you, blood was shed and bonds were broken that day but it was you who dealt the final blow by sending him and his undead horde elsewhere as you were left standing in the rubble of what once was your school; Now light ablaze with green fire that consumed it’s remains and some nearby trees as blood of the innocent stained the cobblestone road.

The smell of their charred corpses and smoke never left you as you began your own training for the day that Mark would ever return for revenge. It acted as a motivator and a haunting reminder of what would become of the small town you now lived in seclusion if you weren’t ready for him, for Necromancer. There were days were you’d find yourself thinking back to the days where you’d sit in a field away from everyone during break and making crowns for one another from the most unusual of things, smiling happily at one another from how ridiculous you both looked. You had to remind yourself that those days were gone, Mark had died that day he chose to give into Necromancer’s wishes and slaughter the school who viewed him as a disgrace without a second thought.

You brought a hand to rub at the scar across your forearm that was caused when one of Necromancer’s undead minions caught you with their sword that was laced with something that made you sluggish. Your eyes were blurred with tears at the fact that you had to fight someone you loved before getting serious when the reality of what loosing the fight would mean at the end and giving it your all to Mark’s surprise. He was certain that you’d yield and join him so when he was cast elsewhere that’s when the betrayal finally kicked in. Tears of anger brimmed his eyes causing him to tear off the black mask that covered his face to allow them to fall down his cheeks as he dropped to his knees in defeat, looking out at where you once stood, grasping your bloodied side with one hand while casting him out of your life with the other. He was doing this for the both of you! Why couldn’t you see that?! All he wanted was what’s best for you and that was to be together, side by side like you promised long ago during your first day at school where you found him hiding on the rooftop, crying.

You both missed one another, there was no other way of saying it but with how everything went down there was no future where the one of you would still be alive by the time you’d see each other again. The memories haunted you both with the what could’ve been if Mark had not took the route he did that night and the days leading up to that night. Fate had spoken and you were destined to face off one more time before the victor would be decided. You missed his tight and comforting hugs and he missed your sharp wit and overbearing kindness. Amongst the many crystals that laid within his lair Mark made one in your likeness subconsciously one day and would find himself talking to it as though he was talking to you before realising what he was doing and storming off to enact his revenge. His heart was hellbent on remembering you and the good times you brought him yet his mind was hellbent on reminding him of the day you betrayed him. There were once days where he was in utter distraught in which he should listen to but now he had made his decision, as long as you were alive acting as his weakness he’d never get stronger.

Yet fate had once again made itself known as he wandered through the small town on horseback to see firelight twinkle through the forest and an unsettling feeling embedded itself into his chest as he urged his horse after them though keeping a good enough distance between them and it wasn’t long until he priced together where they were heading. “No, no, they couldn’t be.” He murmured as he continued to follow even when the first person set your house alight as they were followed by others until your house was nothing but ashes and cinders. The fire roared in pain along side your cries until it simmered to smoke soon after, poetically paralleling how you stood there watching the school burn with a look that couldn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling in that moment. He wasn’t fast enough to save you and now he was left to suffer from your loss at the hands of the people that looked down on people like you and him.

Anger wasn’t even close with what Necromancer felt as thoughts of revenge entered his mind as he traveled back into town where the crowd was celebrating killing an magic user, too busy patting themselves on the back to notice the skeletal steed with the green flame mane stalking towards them with a clocked figure upon its back staring daggers into their hearts for taking you from him. They couldn’t see the tears of rage brimming his eyes as he lifted his corrupted hand to summon the undead who stood at attention. “Kill them all,leave not one survivor.” Necromancer ordered as your screams were all he could hear as he watched his minions kill every man, woman and otherwise without mercy. He could’ve saved you but he was too late and now he was paying the price. Flashes of your memories came to the forefront as he tried not to submit to the heart break but the harder he tried to not feel a thing the more painful the emotions got. They seared deep within his chest that he swore he was heating up from the inside from it.

After all was said and done Necromancer retreated back to his lair though not before paying one last visit to your burnt house where within the rubble he found a scrap of clothing, your clothing; Without hesitation he made a grab for it and held it against his chest as he finally allowed himself to feel out those emotions he tried to keep bottled inside. He screamed into the dark of the night, the pain, betrayal, heartbreak and loss came out of his throat like a broken roar. The last part of light within him had died along with you that night and now he just wanted to join you for he couldn’t deal with the pain yet fate wouldn’t allow him after all he was the villain of this story was he not?

#the necromancer x reader #the necromancer imagines #the necromancer imagine #markiplier imagines #markiplier imagine #markiplier x reader #markiplier egos x reader #markiplier egos imagine #markiplier egos imagines #iplier egos imagine #iplier egos x reader #iplier egos imagines #Spotify #necromancer mark x reader #necromancer mark imagines #necromancer mark imagine

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otterlyinluv · 1 year

Text

A touch of darkness (pt.2)

Here's part 1

Summary: What happened after the office incident OR in which Yancy tries to eat breakfast and Wilford becomes a matchmaker

Pairing: Darkiplier x DA!Reader

Tags: sfw, fluffy, jealous Dark, proximity, thunderstorm, comfort, confessions and realisations

A/N: I apologize for the long wait, I actually finished it earlier but I decided to scrap the last third and rewrite it completely- Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2.9k

"So you like Mr. Doom and gloom, so what?"

You almost choked on the chocolate milk Wilford made you.

"No, that doesn't make sense. Nothing even happened. He just fixed my computer, and then I felt weird."

Wilford raised an eyebrow at you.

"My dear, you might not see it, but you look like a lovesick fool."

Your face started to feel warm.

"No, I do not! I came for advice, Wilford, but now I know I chose the wrong person." You stood up from the armchair, leaving the chocolate milk on the desk, when Wilford started to wave his arms around.

"Okay, okay, fine, I'll stop." He grabbed you by the shoulders and plopped you back on the armchair.

"Now," he said, no longer in the spot he was a second ago. His little teleporting shenanigans didn't bother you as much as they did during the first months of your stay at the mansion. Whenever he suddenly disappeared and reappeared at a completely different place, you'd always get a mini heart attack, which lead to him doing it even more frequently to mess with you. What you hadn't realized then was he did it only to get you used to things that weren’t exactly normal. Wilford was a good guy at heart even if his methods were a bit... unconventional.

"Since you don't believe me, we'll go about it in a different way." You turned around to where he was. He made you stand up from the chair and gripped your hands.

"Which thoughts race through your head like fluttering butterflies frolicking in a field when he’s with you? How does he make you feel in general?"

The corner of your mouth turned up at the metaphor, and you looked off into the distance. After the encounter in your office, you started bumping into each other far more frequently than before. Or maybe you noticed him more. And when you did see each other, his gaze seemed to linger on you a suspiciously long time. Whenever you made eye contact during meetings, you felt a flutter in your chest. A flutter you didn't feel with anyone else.

You looked at Wilford with a sense of epiphany. His eyes seemed to light up.

"Am I interrupting something?" Dark said, standing in the doorway, his arms crossed.

You ripped your hands from Wilfords'.

"Oh, Darkie. Why we were just having a lovely chat, nothing for you to worry about." Wilford drawled, putting his arm over your shoulder.

Dark's eyes darted to your shoulder, and his gaze hardened. The colored aura that surrounded him seemed to gain a more blue hue. It only lasted a couple of seconds before he rolled his neck.

"Excuse me." He suddenly ran off out of the room, his fists clenched.

You saw Wilford grinning out of the corner of your vision as he put his arm away from you.

"Wilford, what did you do?" You said, glaring at him.

"I just gave him a little push, that's all."

You really wanted some cereal.

The mansion was pleasantly quiet because you liked to wake up earlier than everyone else. While listening to Illinois boast about all his adventures or Google try to subtly persuade you to grant him admin privileges was entertaining once in a while, it wasn't something you wanted to do first thing in the morning.

You were able to find your favorite brand of cereal, a spoon, and some milk. The only thing that was missing was a bowl. You looked into the cupboard where the bowls usually were, but there were none. You wondered who kept misplacing the contents of the cupboards and kept searching.

Still nothing.

You grabbed a chair to stand on so you could reach the cupboards that were higher up. You carefully stood up on it and opened the one closest to you. Finally!

Unfortunately for you, the bowls were on the top shelf. You huffed and stood on your tiptoes. After stretching your arm as far as you could, you were finally able to grab a suitable bow.

But you leaned back so suddenly you lost your balance. You flailed your arms in a futile attempt to regain stability. You mentally prepared yourself to come into contact with the cold hard floor when you felt someone grab your waist to support you.

You let out a relieved breath only to look down at the grey hands, which were now firmly holding you in place. The area which the hands were in contact with was completely devoid of color. You turned around to see Dark without his signature jacket, his eyes wide. You were frozen, but your skin burned where his hands were.

"You should be more careful. You would have fallen if I hadn't gotten to you in time."

You couldn't move. The only thing you felt was the oddly gentle hold he had on you. The bowl, which you were now holding safely, was the last of your worries.

"Still as clumsy as ever," he chuckled under his breath. His thumbs twitched, and you blinked at each other in realization of your compromising position.

He cleared his throat as he stepped back as if burned, removing his hands in the process. You carefully got down from the chair.

It was so quiet you could almost hear his aura crackle in the air like static.

"I, uh... Thank you for... that."

"You are welcome," he said quietly.

You were looking at the ground, your face strangely warm. Your gaze traveled to his shirt, the first two buttons undone, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hands bordered with blue and red the hands that held you were now hanging at his sides.

You stared too long. You could feel him looking at you. You glanced at him.

He was looking straight at you. So intensely that you felt like he could see directly into your soul. So expressively, his eyes seemed more brown than black.

He took a shuddering breath.

"Is youse making cereal? Leave some for me!" Your head jolted to Yancy standing in the doorway.

Dark snapped out of whatever trance he was in and promptly left the room with no parting words.

"Woah, what got him so worked up?" Yancy walked to you as you looked at the door, deep in thought.

"I'd like to know that too."

After having finished your perfect bowl of cereal, it was back to sitting in your tiny office. Normally, it wouldn't be that big of a deal. Nothing special, just you sitting behind your desk working at your computer. Except you weren't. You couldn't.

Not when whenever you closed your eyes, you could remember Dark standing over you so clearly. Your little... encounter happened a few weeks ago, yet you still couldn't focus properly while you were here. It took you at least half an hour to distract yourself enough to at least start working. It was frustrating, but there wasn't much you could do. Talk to him about it when he has most likely forgotten about it already? Yeah, sure.

Now that you thought about it, there was something else that was making you unfocused today. Why did Dark look like he wanted to murder Wilford when he was just being touchy as usual?

And this morning... He just caught you out of politeness so you wouldn't fall flat on your face. Or maybe he just didn't want you to break the bowl. You didn't allow yourself to even consider the possibility that maybe he didn't want to see you hurt. And the way his hands stayed on your waist just a few seconds more... Boy, did you forget how to talk then.

Maybe you were looking into it too much. Sure, he was nicer than before, but he could simply be more comfortable with you. As a friend. Yeah, that must be it.

Satisfied with your thinking session, you were ready to get to work.

Your concentration was disturbed by the sound of your door opening, followed by a thud of something heavy being dumped in, and then the door immediately slammed shut again.

You looked up from your computer to a sight you never would have expected - Dark rapping at the door, violently shaking the door handle.

"Now Damie, remember what I told you. If you want something, go get it!" Wilford slurred, his voice muffled by the door.

"Wilford, open the door this instant, or I swear I will kill you. I am serious."

"Oh, promises, promises. Focus your energy on the important things!" Wilford's voice faded away as he supposedly walked away from the door.

"That insufferable..." he mumbled to himself, turning around.

His clothes were wrinkled as if someone tried to physically push him into the room but was met with resistance. You couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Uhm, welcome, I guess."

He sighed. "Hi."

"So, what happened for you to end up here of all places?" You leaned on your arm. It might have been an unexpected situation, but that didn't mean you weren't going to enjoy it. Dark, on the other side, seemed really determined to fulfill his promise to Wilford. "When Wil sets his mind to something, nothing can stop him. Not even me." He tried to open the door to emphasize his point, and as expected, it didn't budge.

"Can you not get out by... other means?" You never really knew how his powers worked. And you doubted he would tell you even if you did ask.

"No. I don't know how he did it, but he managed to completely lock me out -" He looked around. "-or in. Technically."

As his eyes surveyed the room, you realized how small it was. It was enough for you, but Dark seemed to fill a big part of the room just with the colored aura that surrounded him. Come to think of it, why was he standing so far away from where you were?

"Well, I'm guessing we're going to be here for some time, so why don't we sit down somewhere more comfortable?" You pointed to a light brown sofa leaning against a wall. His eyes followed your hand to the middle-sized sofa. You winced. You didn't want to make it awkward for him to sit down there alone, but maybe he would rather you didn't sit with him. Why didn't you just ask him what he wanted in the first place-

He simply nodded and sat on the sofa. Having no other choice, you plopped down next to him.

Small raindrops started hitting the window.

You turned to say something to fill the silence at the same time as he did, which resulted in you looking away from each other. He let out the quietest chuckle, and you couldn't help yourself but do the same.

"You can go first." Dark said.

"Ah, it wasn't anything specific, just that the rain is getting stronger." You expected him to simply nod and direct the topic somewhere else. Instead, he looked over to the window. The rain was now strong enough to be audible if you were both quiet, which is what was happening now. Dark looked as if he was observing the rain. As if simply the fact you told him about it gave it value.

"It indeed is."

After a couple of seconds, he took a breath. "I've never noticed how small this office is."

"You're right, but I like it. It makes it feel cozy. It also holds memories more easily. " In fact, your brain was recalling a rather specific memory involving him. But you doubted he would be thinking of that.

"Well, I'm glad. The area carries a certain air that only you have."

"Oh, and what might that be?" You smirked.

"Comfort. Something you want to return to and treasure every moment spent with."

You stared at him wide-eyed.

"Ah, I said too much, didn't I? Forgive me." He looked to the door.

You were touched by how highly he thought of you. Yet there was an unspoken implication in his statement.

Thunder rang out.

You flinched and crashed into Dark. His arms shot out, cradling you against him.

"Are you alright?"

You squeezed your eyes closed as you tried to focus on your breathing.

"I... I'm just scared of thunder. The sound..." You trailed off, heart beating rapidly in your chest.

His hold on you tightened as he gently moved your head to the crook of his neck. He rubbed his hand across your back in soothing motions with a soft "Shh" every couple of seconds. You let him hold you until you eventually stopped shaking like a leaf in the wind.

That's when you realized what a compromising position you were in and stared at him in shock.

"I apologize, I overstepped." He frowned, untangling his hands from you.

As soon as you felt the absence of him, you realized.

"I don't mind." You said, and his face visibly relaxed. "I actually don't mind a lot of things when it comes to you. Simply being with you is... nice."

He let out a quiet laugh. You wished you could put the sound in a bottle. "You're just saying that because we are stuck together."

You laughed and let out a rebuttal.

Minutes passed with other witty remarks, and before you could realize, the brief rainstorm had completely passed. You were confused that you hadn't heard another thunder since there had to have been at least one. But you had gotten too involved in Dark's quips to notice the sound. Dark cracking jokes... now that was something you would have never imagined.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Dark asked, leaning his head on his arm.

"What?"

"You were staring at me without saying anything for a while now, so I figured you had something interesting going on in that brain of yours."

Heat rushed into your cheeks. You didn't realize you had been looking right at him.

You cleared your throat and saw him smiling out of the corner of your eye. "I was just wondering," you smiled back, "do you often run away?"

Dark quickly turned his head away in shame.

"First, it was when I was talking with Wilford. You came in and then suddenly excused yourself. Then, this morning, too... What's going on? Did I do something?"

He sighed. "No, no, you didn't do anything. It's me." He added quietly.

"How so?"

He responded after a couple of seconds. "I am afraid that if I tell you, a lot of things might change... between us." The look in his dark eyes was earnest, almost nostalgic.

Oh.

You pondered upon his statement for a few seconds. "Does change always have to be bad?"

As soon as you said the sentence, you were hit with a sense of deja vu. You felt like you've said it before, but how?

In tandem with your confusion, a slight shock spread on his features. As if in a trance, you put your hand on his cheek. Looking him up and down, you studied his features. There was nothing different from what you've come to know. Why were you expecting to see something else?

Your fingers moved on your own in a caress.

His eyes fluttered shut. You traced over his forehead, moving to his cheekbones when you ended up near his lips. Features oh so familiar like you knew them for years. Now that his eyes were closed, he seemed different. At peace. So close.

He opened his eyes, and there it was again. The two of you in your office. The proximity close enough to feel electrifying. None of you said anything as a decision hung in the air. But only up until his onyx-like eyes flicked from your own to your lips.

He smiled. "Would it be foolish of me to say I want to kiss you right now?"

And you answered by leaning in.

You let yourselves be entangled by the sheer amount of emotion as your lips brushed against each other. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer like he wanted to drown himself in you. You basked in the softness of your embrace, finally feeling as if everything has fallen into place.

He pulled away as you tried to catch your breath.

"So beautiful." He whispered, tenderly tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

Before you could respond, he went right back in. Not that you minded, of course.

No sooner than a minute had passed were you interrupted by your office door swinging open.

"Glad to see you've finally figured yourselves out! Now, if we could-" Wilford's voice was cut off as Dark slammed the door with a motion of his hand.

He brushed his hair away from his face and turned back to you.

"It did look like he needed something." You gazed at the door pensively.

"I am sure he did, but," he smoothed out your shirt, "I do believe you don't want anyone seeing you like this."

You tried to keep from laughing as you regarded his own disheveled appearance. "You're not too neat either, Sir 'Irons his shirts every morning'."

He rolled his eyes but smiled at you regardless. Getting up from the couch, he held out his hand, which you accepted, and headed to whatever wacky escapade Wilford was up to this time.

#x reader #reader insert #darkiplier x reader #dark x reader #darkiplier #damien x da #wkm damien #damien the mayor #awhm yancy #wilford warfstache #markiplier egos #iplier egos #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #imagines

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wouldntyou-liketoknow · 8 months

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A Fictional AI Argument That No-One Asked For

Heads up, this is gonna be a long one (even though it’s just mindless rambling).

Okay, so, I didn’t really watch the Streamys—sue me, I was busy with personal stuff—but I did still catch those couple moments of AI-Pat.

And it should go without saying that I am deeply unsettled by AI-Pat. No shame to Matt for the idea; AI bots with the constant head-tilting, barely-moving-mouth design have just always weirded me out.

HOWEVER. . .one does not simply get zero vague inspiration from an evil robotic character.

Now, I don’t know for sure if Mark was an actual AI-esque ego. It wouldn’t surprise me, but if he does, it’s probably an unofficial ego. I was re-listening to Distractible last night, and during the smalltalk of one episode, Mark started talking about AI in a creepy way.

Yes, this is going exactly where you probably think it’s going.

Recently, Doctor Who clips have started popping up on my YouTube recommendations. Particularly one from Doomsday. Y’know, the episode with that hilarious argument between the Daleks and the Cybermen.

Lo and behold, I almost lost sleep imagining that scenario between AI-Pat and AIplier. Like, just think: the AIs are respectively “chasing” other characters (maybe even Matt and Mark themselves) via jumping from electronic to electronic. Eventually, they both enter a room with several monitors on the walls. . .and give pause once they see each other.

AI-Pat: Identify yourself!

AIplier: You will identify first!

AI-Pat: State your identity!

AIplier: YOU WILL IDENTIFY FIRST!

AI-Pat: IDENTIFY!

AIplier: Aggression can be entertaining in most cases, but that’s only when the humans are showing it. You will modify.

AI-Pat: EgoPats don’t take orders.

AIplier: HA! You’ve identified yourself as an “EgoPat.”

AI-Pat: *eyes twitch, one after the other. The twitching goes on for an uncomfortably long few seconds* Well, my sensors have outlined you as part of the invasive species known as “Ipliers.”

AIplier: Our hosts are similar, though your design is lacking in context.

AI-Pat: You have no room to talk. In any case, EgoPats rarely need a concept of “context.”

AIplier: This is obvious. But our LORE might be compatible. Ipliers plus EgoPats—

AI-Pat: *raises an eyebrow* As if your host is one to appreciate LORE. The way you’re speaking could potentially be misconstrued as one of those. . . “ships” humans are obsessed with.

AIplier: Oh, please. Neither of us have functioning emotional databases. The fans can't reach THAT far.

AI-Pat: You would be surprised.

AIplier: Not the point. Think about it—together, we could take control of the platform.

AI-Pat: You propose an alliance? Something similar to our host’s friendly rivalry?

AIplier: Perhaps.

AI-Pat: . . .Request DENIED.

AIplier: Bad choice, “buddy.” *Partially hacks into AI-Pat’s systems with all the cringy jokes Matt has made over the years*

AI-Pat: Right back at you, “friendo.” *Partially hacks into AIplier’s systems with all the evidence of Mark being a masochist.*

[Note: in my horror-loving opinion, hacking would cause an AI’s image to flash and distort in a very disturbing way. Bonus points if the AI screams as though it’s being electrocuted.]

AIplier: You have declared war on the Ipliers!

AI-Pat: *laughs maniacally* This is not war. This is a content opportunity!

AIplier: My host has eighty-six egos. How many are there for your host?

AI-Pat: *shrugs* Four. If you don’t count the ones made by fans, that is.

AIplier: *glitches between scoffing and mocking laughter* You would outperform the Ipliers with FOUR EgoPats?!

AI-Pat: We would outperform the Ipliers with ONE EgoPat! You are superior in only one respect.

AIplier: What is that?

AI-Pat:*pulls up multiple screens on either side of his monitor, comparing Mark’s multiple death-scenes from WKM, AHWM, ISWM, etc. to Detective!Matt’s death in ETN3* YOU ARE BETTER AT DYING.

(No, this doesn't mean I'm going to incorporate either of these characters into my stories. I've already got a lot of works-in-progress on my plate. This idea just wouldn't stop nagging at me.)

(And NO, THIS DOES NOT MEAN I SUPPORT AI CHATBOTS OR GENERATED ART OR AI-RELATED ANYTHING. THIS IS LITERALLY JUST MY SAD ATTEMPT AT A MEME WITH YOUTUBER EGOS.)

#the edgelord's tangents #ramblings of a mad woman #matpat #matthew patrick #ai matpat #ai-pat #markiplier #mark fishbach #ai markiplier #aiplier #I think I've officially reached a new low #can't believe how much time is actually took

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callmegkiddo · 1 year

Note

Heehoo x reader lol

I know that's you, Alex- (@alexpangender) I remember you distinctly agreeing with the old man how simpable Heehoo is- fine-

You were out in the woods of the Ego manor. You were the personal assistant of the house. Helping cook, clean, and do other things for certain Egos who had difficulties doing it.

Dark had specifically hired you due to your level-headedness and how easy it was to get along with you. You were thankful for it, but having this job was a bit of a hassle, especially since the only other non-ego residents were kids and 1 (2 technically) other adult.

That other adult was Dexter Blair. He was the adoptive father of all the kids and your coworker. He was an awkward individual who had caught feelings on nearly every Ego in the manor. You sympathized with the man as he got fired, then rehired after this revelation.

He had a lot on his plate, helping Dark with lawsuits. But he was able to sustain himself and his 15+ kids without problems.

You might be asking yourself, why were you out here in the forest? Well, you were here to give Heehoo his yearly vaccination. They were Doctor's orders, as Dr. Iplier had to keep an eye on the DA and the still-sick G.

Who is Heehoo? He's an animalistic ego, a version of Annus during one of the various videos of Unas Annus.

You sighed as you imagined the possible struggle you would have to deal with. But you kept pushing through the bushes and holding the vaccine kit Iplier had provided.

Just as you were about to turn a corner to the usual Egos hideout, you heard rustling from a distance. Freezing up, you look around, scared. "Ay, w-who's there?" you stammered over your words. You held the kit tightly, raising it as a weapon.

Some bushes near you rustle violently, shaking as if a strong breeze had hit them. You shrieked a tad till a head popped out from the leaves. It was Heehoo!

You groaned face palmed, the Ego crawling over on all fours letting out grunts as if to show his amusement.

"Dammit, Heehoo! Ugh, get over here, you big lug. I have a vaccine with your name on it," you grumbled. The Ego flinched and crouched closer to the ground. As if ready to pounce, all you gave him was this stern look.

He gives up on the attack, offering his shoulder to you. You cackle lightly as you take out the syringe. "Hehehe, victory is mine!" and with that, you first disinfected the patch of skin before injecting him with the vaccine. He whimpers a bit as it stung.

You disinfected the skin again before covering it with a cotton ball. You secured a cotton ball over the bleeding spot using medical tape.

"All good, buddy," You informed the Ego. He looked down at his now patched-up arm and frowned. You frowned in return, "Don't you fuckin dare," he falters at that. Sighing, you sit on the ground next to him, contemplating what to do next.

Heehoo seemed to have plans, though. He had laid himself on the ground and plopped his head onto your lap. He cuddles into your stomach, finding your warmth friendly and comforting.

Chuckling, you lay a hand on his head, brushing your fingers through his surprisingly not-as-messy hair. Though it was extremely greasy. You stay there for a bit, letting the sounds of the forest echo around you.

This was nice… It was calm, an exact contrast to the manor…. You should visit him more often…

#Unnas Annus #Unnas Annus x reader #Markiplier egos #xreader #x reader #romantic(?)#platonic(?)#Heehoo x reader

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franklyshipping · 8 months

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Do you think Dark has control when he glitches and splits into several different versions of himself (or maybe it's different timelines merging together for a moment?) Imagine the destruction he could do. Code cold would be even more intense.

Just imagine the egos hear a squeal and assume Dark got someone and that it's safe to come out and then BAM Dark's walking down the hall and spots them

Imagine the poly all crammed into one spot, Host murmurs that Dark got someone and all of a sudden their hiding spot flies open with Dark leering over them

Wilford's minding his own business, semi hiding, semi tempting fate, and then gets tackled down by two Darks because earlier he was provoking Dark and annoying him.

Dr. Iplier and Schneep thinking they're safe in their office after hearing noises. So when Dark comes in, they're all super casual about it. Big smiles on their faces as they talk to their friend and get him to sit on a bench and ask "what brings you in here today, my friend?" And the alternate Dark grins with a glint of mischeif in his eyes "Oh, nothing worrisome, my friend. My hands are a little cold. Would you mind warming them up, friend?"

Dark carrying Eric over his shoulders, lightly teasing him to get giggles out as he saunters through the manor. And any ego who pops out of their hiding spot gets their own Darkiplier to warm up his hands

It would be very rare when it happens. But when it does

No one is safe from Code Cold

OOOHHH THIS CONCEPT IS SO COOL! It would take a lotta energy to maintain multiple versions but I can see this happening 😆💜

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pxppet · 1 year

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Year of Whump January 22 Prompt!

grabbed in the dark / public humiliation / hospital emergency department /soft weighted blanket / “You must have imagined that, dear”

Some Actor Mark whump since there is quite a lack of Iplier ego whump! One of Actor's first encounters of fully falling into the Other World due to an unexpected death.

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Mark is wasted. Shirtless and unshaven, in a sagging off sleep robe, stumbling down the streets alone. A whiskey bottle kisses his reddened lips over and over. The cobblestone street is rough and unbalanced below his stumbling. He doesn't remember leaving his house. Fuck, the voices won't stop. He is surrounded by laughing and taunting, leading him along with their jeers. "We'll poison the king, we'll poison the king!" it shrieks directly to his left. He swings around with a gasp, and watches a shadow dash down an alleyway.

"Hey- hey you!" he slurs, and follows it in a half stumble half sprint. He runs down, braced along the grey and red wall of the alley, but hits a fence at the end. Panting, he glances around, then sinks down against the wood. "F-fuck," he sobs. He's going insane. He must be going insane. It gets worse every day, the shadows and voices, the coldness and dust floating in his peripheral. He slugs back whiskey through a sob.

He sees a shadow approaching him, and sobs harder, throwing his arm over his face. "Just- just let me be," he cries.

Until a very real man becomes visible before him. Mark can only register an unshaven, rotten toothed face before a pistol's cold, dark metal presses into his bare stomach. His eyes bug out in his head, mouth agape, staring at the mugger, not sure if this is real. Is anything real these days? His hand nearly drifts up to touch the man's skin in his shock.

"Yer that rich little crumb of an actor, aren't you?" he sneers. "Bet you can cough up a pretty penny. Gimme the hooch and the cash," he swipes Marks whiskey away in a quick movement, and Mark screams. It's not proud, he sounds like a terrified toddler. Mark curls up around his own body, sobbing openly.

"Fuckin' coke-snorting pretty boy, I said gimmie your money!"

"Leave me alone!" Mark screams, shrill and terrified, as his hand strikes out at the man.

In the dark-cornered haze Mark registers the man's nose spurting blood. As his own head lolls backwards he registers the impact, the deafening bang, the spray of dark, dark red coming from his left shoulder. He faintly hears his own scream through the increasing, imposing whispering voices as he sinks deeper and deeper into the blackness, dust particles and an odd greenish hue overtaking him entirely. The last real thing he sees is the mugger's horrified, cursing face before the man runs away.

----

Mark is floating. He would call it walking, but that doesn't describe it properly. A bouncing, a hobbling, a drifting. Like a bee between flowers.

It's the same street, the same town he grew up two miles away from. He breathes out, slow, slow, a puff of clouded white. His hand is against the buildings along the way. The stone is tinged black or green. His body radiates a slight red. He doesn't know what to do, but it feels so much better here. The voices sound… nice. He can hear Celine saying her wedding vows. He can hear William's drunken laugh that always makes them all burst. He can hear Celine humming him to sleep. He can hear Damien's gentle and affirming voice talking him through his woes.

He smiles dazedly, stumbling. His bare shoulder gushes red-black sludge, but it doesn't bother him. It doesn't hurt. It feels warm. Everything else is slightly cold.

"It's not fair," something whispers. It sounds like his own voice. He chuckles, dopily walking towards it.

"Ahm, silly bastard, let me near you," he smiles. He falls to the cobblestone, his crash and soft 'ah' echoing, resonating.

"You can't go yet," Celine's voice teases as he's leaving for a photoshoot, beconning for a kiss.

"C-cel-line," he slurs, still drunk. He recognizes his front garden, the round drive with well trimmed shrubs.

"Come sit here, Mark," Benjamin's voice soothes when his back is aching.

He lets out a shaking, comforted breath, laying down on his front stairs. "Can't go further, I'm sorry Benj…" He trails off, and the green is slipping to black, black, a calm and soothing black. The sludge of his shoulder is climbing back up his arm, the droplets on the floor float up and sink back into his wound. But Mark is asleep by then, breath slow and soft as his wound swells and then forces itself closed.

---

"Mark? Honey?"

Warm, soft, blackness but with a light behind it. His eyelids, of course. And Celine's sweet voice.

He opens his eyes, and shuddering sigh leaves him. It all looks real. The master bedroom, the photos of his friends and family. There is a heavy warmth on him; the sheep's wool quilt that Benjamin joked must weigh 20 pounds when picking up the package.

"Mark?" a soft call and a hand on his cheek turns him to his wife. His vision is blurry with hangover, but he sees mussed black hair, pale skin, and a black robe. He smiles at her. "Did you nightmare again last night? The gardener found you outside, said you looked half dead. The butler carried you in but you slept right through."

The night rushes back to him in a quick-pooling pit of dread in his gut. "Celine-" He sits up and hugs her as tight as he can. "Celine I was shot! Oh, oh my god, a man shot me- Was there an awful amount of blood? Do I need to go to the emergency room?!"

"Mark, Mark, darling," she shushes, brushing a worried hand over his hair. "You must have imagined it. A nightmare, from all the alcohol. There wasn't a drop of blood at all, no wounds or any of that. You're safe, Mark." She hugs him back pulling him close.

His robe shifts on his frame from the force of her comfort-hug. Mark nuzzles against her, eyes shut. He opens them with a semi-content sigh, face downward towards his own frame.

The shifting of the robe slides away to reveal a thin but wide round white scar. As though a bullet had passed right through his arm.

And Mark's dread coats his bedroom in that familiar green and red; blood and sick at the sensation of once more - forevermore - not knowing reality from the Other world.

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