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m4delin · 4 years

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I hope it's not too late for prompts because I'd like to request Illinois saying "I told you not to fall in love with me" to Yancy. Just fuck me up fam >:'3

Prompts are always open, I’m just a slow writer!

Also, confession time. I’m not very happy with this, and I might re-write it another time, but have this anyway bc I’ve been struggling with it now for a while. And I wanna post something!

I hope you enjoy this @juju-on-that-yeet

Title: Told You SoRating: T, for mostly swearingCharacters: Yancy, Bingiplier, Illinois, Actor MarkTags: No happy ending, Angst, brainwashing/reprogramming, implied torture, not beta’d

The first thing Yancy noticed were the sharp pain coming from his neck. He wasn’t sure if he groaned or whimpered from the pain, he wasn’t even sure if he was moving. Pain was all he registred for some time.

Then the sense of touch reached him. Something cold were pressing against one side of his face and side of the body and something uncomfortable were digging itself into his wrists. Where were his arms? He still couldn’t feel them.

After laying still and letting the coldness ground him for a while, sound finally started to filter through the buzz in his head and the streaks in front of his eyes slowly disappeared. Meaning he finally dared to open his eyes.

While Yancy wasn’t expecting to see anything particular, he found himself to be prepared for a blinding light that comes with being in Dr. Iplier’s room. But this was obviously not Edward’s small clinic at the Manor. Yancy wasn’t even on a bed. The ground were cement, the light were barely enough to see and were coming from the corridor and there were bars preventing him from getting outside of the room. Cell would be a more appropriate description.

He closed his eyes and let out a groan. His head was killing him. He wasn’t sure for how long he laid there, letting the coldness of the floor sooth his aching body, but when he heard footsteps approaching, he forced his eyes open to watch the person.

“Bing?” Yancy’s throat were hoarse and he needed a drink badly, but he barely noted that fact as Bing were watching him with his orange eyes. It sent a shiver down Yancy’s spine, he’ve never really seen Bing without his sunglasses. But the most worrying part were the fact that he looked emotionless. Way too much like Google.

Yancy grunted as he tried to sit up, but only to find his hands tied behind his back. Dread started to build in his stomach and he stared at Bing. “Bing, what’s happenin’?”

No answer.

Yancy shuffled himself up into a sitting position and stared right back at the android, annoyance overcoming the dread. “Are yous just gonna stare at me, huh? Like I’m some sort of an animal?” He spat.

At that Bing smirked, and opened the door and with a few long steps he was by Yancy. Yancy let out a curse when he was suddenly dragged up by his feet and pushed to walk.

He stumbled at the first push but somehow caught himself before he would slam into the bars. “Fuckin’ tincan! Lemme get my balance before I start walking or I’ll bust youses head in!”

The chuckle coming from behind him had the hairs on his arms stand. It sounded empty. “Sorry Yancy, but we’re in a bit of a hurry.”

With no more words, Yancy got pushed through a corridor filled with cells. Most of them seemed to be empty.

But when he saw a glimpse of a blue android in one of them, he tried to stop and look but Bing merely continued to push him forward, making Yancy stumble and almost fall. “That’s Google! What the fuck is he doing in a cell? What is going on?“ He yelled as he tried to turn around to look back.

"Don’t worry about him. He’s just being… repurposed. He’ll feel a lot better afterwards.” Bing didn’t stop for a moment in his walking. “I know I did.”

The last words were barely louder than a whisper and Yancy would’ve missed it if Bing weren’t close to push him forward again.

“Repurposed- what the fuck Bing? What have they done to you?”

He didn’t receive an answer other than a shove. Cursing and swearing were the only thing Yancy could do, and he got louder when he noticed other egos in other cells. Yandere, Bim, King, Silver. All of them laying still. And no amount of yelling and swearing made them react.

Eventually were Yancy brought to a bigger room that was more well lit than the corridor, it almost hurt his eyes. But he didn’t have to worry about that as a blinding pain ran across his skull.

He wasn’t sure if he fell to the floor or if Bing caught him, but as the worst pain dulled he knew he was manhandled and pressed against something flat.

And when he finally were able to focus and open his eyes again, he found himself tied to the wall.

Groaning, Yancy tried to muster strength to tug at the chains but it did nothing more than to rattle them.

“Ah! I see that Yancy are here and awake! Well done, Bing!”

Yancy followed the unfamiliar voice to an unfamiliar man standing in the doorway. Red bathrobe, white scarf, black cane, fucking slippers. A face not too unlike his own.

Another ego.

“Who the fuck are yous?”

“Oh? You don’t recognize me? Well, I do look quite different right now so I suppose I can’t blame you.” The man chuckled as he walked up by Bing. ”But I’m surprised that Damien haven’t told you about me.” He tilted his head. “Of course, he likes to keep his secrets, doesn’t he?”

Yancy frowned. “I’m supposed to know yous? And who’s Damien?”

The man waved a hand dismissively in front of him. “Ah, I keep forgetting he goes by Dark these days. He could’ve found a better name than that, don’t you think?”

Staring at the man, he tried to form his thoughts and understand what was happening but the pain made his mind sluggish.

“But never mind that! I usually goes by the name Mark, and I know how it seems, but really! I’m one of the good guys!” The man, Mark, gesticulated with one of his hands as he talked.

Yancy barely listened to him talking, trying to figure out what happened before he woke up in that cell. He’d been outside.

“Bing here-” Mark’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts and Mark put a hand on Bing’s shoulder- “have kindly seen reason! I must say, Damien really puts a lot of lies in everyone’s head!”

Bing’s face were blank with no hint of emotion behind his eyes. Now that Yancy got a look on him in better light, he was confident that even Google emitted more emotions from his face than Bing does now. And that scared him. The mischievous grin on Mark only added to the coming dread.

“I’m sure you will see reasons as well, my dear Yancy.”

Yancy’s mind were racing as Mark turned around and begun to walk over to a table where a hat rested. A very familiar hat.

Illinois.

He’d been outside with Illinois, Yandere and Bim as it been a nice day.

“What the fuck have yous done with Illinois?” Yancy growled and pulled against the chains, pain be damned.

Mark picked up the hat and walked back to his previous place beside Bing, a small, amused smile on his lips. “There’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“If youses hurt ‘Nois, I’ll fuckin’ murder yous!”

Mark studied him and Yancy kept growling, yanking at the chains. A chill ran down Yancy’s spine when Mark’s face suddenly brightened and laughed.

“You’re in love, aren’t you?”

Yancy growled in response.

Mark’s face softened. “Oh, Yancy.” As he stepped closer, he put the hat on top of his head and slowly the bathrobe faded to only be replaced by a beige shirt and brown pants. Cane dropped to the floor and slippers turning into shoes. The skin darkened to a tan color and the beard got scuffier. A charming smile were on his lips as he stopped in front of Yancy.

Yancy felt his mouth run dry as he stared at the man in front of him. “‘Nois?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Even the voice and accent were right.

Shaking his head, Yancy balled his fists. “No, yous ain’t him! Yous just some shapeshiftin’ dick!”

All the anger and fight left him as Mark- Illinois- fuck, he didn’t know anymore- gently grabbed Yancy’s chin and tilted it slightly upwards, looking into his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Yancy. I told you not to fall in love with me.”

“‘Nois-” Yancy began but bit himself in the tongue. What was he gonna say?

Illinois backed up until he reached Bing. “Bing, we need to get started. Before Damien or William decides to come busting in.”

His voice too smooth for those words.

Bing nodded, turning around and walked out through the door. Illinois looked at Yancy with a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Sorry that it turned out like this. But I promise, you’ll feel better afterwards.”

“Yous- yous ain’t him! Yous ain’t ‘Nois!”

Illinois hummed. “I am now. You see, the original died during his first expedition after he arrived at the Manor. Quite easily to take his place without Damien noticing. And I must say, I’ve become quite fond of this hat,” he says and tiled said item a little bit backwards.

Air didn’t want to go down into his lungs.

“I- no. Yous… Yous lyin’.” His voice weren’t louder than a whisper. Yancy didn’t dare to speak any louder.

Illinois’ expression softened again. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll take care of you.”

Yancy didn’t doubt him.

#yancy/illinois #kinda?#yancy #bingiplier #actor mark #illinois #kinda yancy/actor mark #iplier egos #markiplier egos #m4ds writing #fanfic story #prompts #request

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franklyshipping · 4 years

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Day 14 ~ Christmas 2019 Ego Fanfics

OKEY DOKEY WE'RE ONTO DAY NUMBER 14 AND I THINK IT'S TIME WE GOT SOME DANCING UP IN THIS FESTIVE JOINT! LET'S DO THIS!

TAGGING: @bingy-switch and @bingylee

I feel like dancing at Christmas is a seriously unspoken thing of sweetness, whether it be with a romantic partner or with friends, having a wild boogie is a staple for this time of year. First off, it’s cold weather season and you gotta keep warm somehow because you KNOW that for at least a few days in December whatever is heating your home is going to break; frankly I think that’s why dancing was invented. Second, who doesn’t want to be close and moving in sync with the ones they hold most dear? Well…I can name person who wasn’t in the mood for any of that: Bingiplier.

The android was NOT in a good mood. He was curled up on a couch frowning and huffing, annoyed and sad that the icy and snowy weather made it impossible for him to go and skate and have fresh air. It was such bullshizzle and fudgery and cutlery (imagine what swear words those are yourselves), and Bing was just feeling bummed out by it all. However, someone was about to come along who was going to try and get Bing out of his moroseness….and that, surprisingly, was Mini Bing.

‘Sah dude!’

The three foot tall android skidded into the room with a grin, and I know you’re probably a tad surprised right now, perhaps assuming since they were both versions of Bing, they would both feel the same things. Au contraire! Mini Bing had a number of different hobbies compared to his taller, musclier self, and so the colder weather didn’t have him bummed out as much….much to regular Bing’s annoyance.

‘Dude….how can you be happy right now? Haven’t you looked outside man?’

Bing huffed sadly as he gestured to the snowfall outside, before folding his arms at his chest again in an annoyed fashion. Mini Bing’s face fell for a moment, but he managed to soon regain his chirpiness because now he was filled with a purpose, to cheer up his counterpart.

‘Aww c’mon man, there’s tons of fun stuff ya do can inside! Hang on…’

Mini Bing bounded over to a radio that was on a nearby coffee table, that Gooper seemed to be snuggled against; Gooper just found the texture of radio speakers to be super comfy okay don’t judge. Mini Bing booped the glob softly with a grin.

‘Heya bud, can ya put on some bangin’ festive tunes for me?’

Gooper wiggled at the boop, and let out an eager coo; in Gooper’s esteemed opinion it had been way too quiet all day, and he’d been waiting for someone to find an excuse to have music on. Mini Bing giggled as Gooper set about nudging a few nobs and straightening the radio’s aerial, and soon classic Christmas music was sweeping through the room.

‘Thank you maestro!’

Mini Bing pet Gooper softly, making him purr and wiggle at having done a good job, before the little glob bounced up and down on the spot (it was his method of dancing). Mini Bing meanwhile, slid across the floor so he was in front of Bing, and started to shimmy happily.

‘C’mon bro dance with me! Get that robo-booty shakin’!’

Bing rolled his eyes at his mini counterpart’s exclamation. He was happy he was having fun, but he himself was just not feeling it.

‘Nah dude, I’ll pass.’

Mini Bing huffed and pursed his lips; he wasn’t going to take no for an answer! He stalked to Bing, grabbed his hands…and started trying to tug him off of the couch.

‘I….am not giving up…until you get up!’

Mini Bing huffed and grunter, strained noises leaving his lips as he scrunched up his reddening face, using every single ounce of strength in his small body….aaand he only really succeeded in unfolding Bing’s arms. He wasn’t a strong guy, bless him. Bing huffed and gave the straining android a withering look, and honestly he was starting to look like a displeased Google Blue.

‘You’re not gonna stop buggin’ me are ya?’

‘Nope!’

Bing sighed resignedly, and just decided to stand up since he knew he wouldn’t be left alone. As he stood, the next song came on, which transpired to be even more upbeat and spurred Mini Bing to jump up and down and eagerly shimmy his chest; he was hoping his latent energy would transfer to Bing….somehow.

‘AYYY SHIMMY WITH ME BOI!’

Alas…it didn’t quite work. Bing merely stood still, slouching, and swaying minimally as he muttered.

‘I don’t have the energy.’

‘Your charge is at 88%!’

‘I still don’t have the energy.’

‘Aww c’mooon! Where’s my big badass Bingy bro at huh?’

Mini Bing elbowed one of Bing’s knees jovially, but internally the smaller android was starting to feel crap at seeing his big bro so disheartened and sad, especially when he continued to huff.

‘I’m just not in the mood, the music’s nice and all but….m’not feelin’ it bruh…’

Bing rubbed the back of his neck as he shifted his gaze to the floor, and now, Mini Bing started to really brainstorm. He could see that Bing’s emotions were only a little low on the surface, and weren’t as a result of some deeper hurt, so that meant that goofiness would be a more than appropriate method to help deal with them…but it was how that goofiness came across that Mini Bing had to really think hard about. Soon though, the smaller android grinned and mused.

‘Hmm, maybe the music’s not getting’ into ya enough…’

Thus, without any warning, Mini Bing jabbed his fingers into Bing’s sides, making the bigger android yip and jump in surprise. Not only that, but he smiled a weak smile, trying to cover his sides as he mumbled.

‘D-Dohooon’t, m’not ihin the mood for thahat…’

Mini Bing raised an eyebrow as his grin widened….a small smile and giggles? This was definitely the way to go, so he jabbed his sides once more as he teased.

‘Oh aren’t you? Cuz that little smile says a lot different buddy…’

Bing spluttered, starting to giggle even more as he weakly batted at his attacker’s hands as he tried to shimmy and back away from him cutely. Not only that….but he could feel flustered feelings creeping up on him at being teased about his smile.

‘C-C’mohon mahan i-ihit’s ihinvoholuntary!’

Bing tried to insist, which made Mini Bing snicker in amusement as he followed him with his tiny, tazering fingers, not relenting for a second as he crooned.

‘Oooohhh that’s a big word, Googs’d be so proud! And is that a salsa I see there? And here you said you weren’t in a dancing mood!’

Bing’s eyes widened as his cheeks burned a soft orange hue, feeling so embarrassed as he realised how much he was shimmying and wriggling from his mini counterpart’s tickling. Bing was properly caught up in giggles now too as Mini Bing’s little fingers skittered and pinched up and down his sides, with no sign of mercy.

‘Shuhuhush ihihit! S-Stahahap beheing sohoho teheheasy i-ihit’s mehehean!’

Bing was so embarrassed….but….he could feel himself getting happier from the tickling, and Mini Bing could see the joy growing inside him too.

‘It’s gotten rid of that poopy frown of yours hasn’t it?’

That made Bing whine and bow his head, because it was absolutely true, he was very far away from frowning right now. However, he still wasn’t going to let himself completely submit, and so decided to use one of his legs to try and force Mini Bing away from him.

‘Frihihick ohohoff duhude!’

Bing snorted amidst his giggles as he used his shin to try and knock Mini Bing aside, which Mini Bing was frankly VERY offended at! He set about grabbing said offending leg and squeezing Bing’s kneecap in retaliation.

‘Hey! I’m tryna cheer you up here!’

Bing squealed with wide eyes at the sudden attack on his kneecap, crying out adorably.

‘THIHIS IHIS AHANDROID AHABUSE!’

Bing started hopping about as snorts and cackles flowed from his lips, tugging at his leg and trying to kick it as Mini Bing delivered ticklish squeezes and pinches to his knee. The smaller android snickered at his struggles, and retorted with a raised eyebrow.

‘Looks more like a bad attempt at a Cossack to me.’

Bing spluttered and yipped, crying out once more because honestly he was SO done with Mini Bing’s mean teasing!

‘YOHOHOU’RE AHA AHAS-EEEE!’

Unfortunately however, Bing didn’t get the chance to finish his insult thanks to him tripping on the edge of a nearby rug and crumpling to the floor, which only allowed Mini Bing to cling to his leg even more securely. Mini Bing scratched the back of Bing’s knee furiously now too….because he knew that Bing had just been about to insult him, and Mini Bing ain’t the kind of android to let people get away with being rude.

‘Oooohhh were you just about to say a naughty word?’

Mini Bing teased as Bing threw his head back with flustered mirth, shaking it too as he laughed.

‘NAHAHAHAAAA!!’

Mini Bing kept up the devilish scribbling in his knee pit as he cooed teasingly.

‘Ohhh I think you weeere! You were nearly gonna sweeear!’

Bing hid his burning amber face in his hands as he squealed and laughed desperately; he was especially flustered right now because Mini Bing was always very insistent on punishing him if he ever used, or got close to using, bad language. So Bing knew he was seriously in for it now.

‘IHIHI WAHASN’T IHI WAHAHASN’T!!’

He tried to insist, but Mini Bing merely giggled as he hugged both of Bing’s legs together…and shuffled down towards his bare feet.

‘Ohohohhh you know what happens when you use naughty words!’

Bing couldn’t bring himself to even peek through his fingers as he whimpered in anticipation, squeaking and scrunching his feet as Mini Bings little fingertips teased the tops of his ticklish feet.

‘I-I-Ihi wahasn’t gohonna I-I wasn’t Ihi wahasn’t-EEEEE NAHAHAT THE FEET AAAHHH DUHUHUUUUDE!!!’

Mini Bing giggled evilly as he scratched Bing’s soles relentlessly, snickering as he gasped dramatically.

‘Ooohh we almost had ya in tune with Mariah there! C’mon, I bet ya can reach her pitch!’

As it so happened, the festive hit “All I Want for Christmas is You” had come on, and Bing’s ticklish reactions were very nearly in tune with the high notes of Mariah Carey….of course, Mini Bing pointing this out just flustered Bing to no end. Bing shook his head as he writhed with happy laughter, the tickling on his feet was driving him ballistic.

‘NAHAHAHAAAHHH STAHAHAPPIT! PLEHEHEEEASE!!!’

Saline tears were pricing at the corners of Bing’s eyes as he scrunched up his feet as tight as he could, but Mini Bing’s tickling fingers only scratched harder, their owner cooing playfully.

‘I’ll only have mercy on these feetsies if you promise to boogie with ‘em!’

By this point, it was a) a no brainer, and b) Bing was so confused by laughter, that any thoughts of sadness had been very thoroughly vanquished. Bing wailed as Mini Bing focused the climax of his tickly scratches at his inner arches, he was definitely at his limit now.

‘IHIHI PRAHAHAMIHIHIIISE!!!’

Mini Bing giggled with satisfaction as he had mercy and released Bing’s legs, thus leaving his ticklish counterpart giggling and panting residually on the floor as Mariah’s voice faded out in the background….swiftly followed by Wham. At the sound of the new song, Mini Bing stood, and offered Bing a hand with a grin.

‘Ready to dance this roof off dude?’

Bing wiped the corner of one of his eyes as he looked up at Mini Bing…and wasted no time in accepting his hand up and smiling a smile that was unencumbered by sadness.

‘Man…I’m ready to dance the frickin house down!’

With that, they danced…no, correction, they boogied. Actually, not only did they boogie, but they took the radio with them throughout the entire ego household and proceeded to obnoxiously boogie in front of every single person that they saw. Let’s be real though, that’s just the energy that Christmas music invokes.

WOO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS FIC LEMME KNOW IF YA DO WOOOOO LUV YOUS XX

#markiplier #markiplier egos #bingiplier #bing #mini bing #sfw #platonic #ego fic #ego fanfic #tickle fic #tickle fanfic #tickle #tickles #tickling #ticklish #day 14 #christmas 2019

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juju-on-that-yeet · 5 years

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A Rock and a Hard Place

Prompt: Whumptober Day 18, Muffled Scream

Summary: Oliver knows his brothers are cruel to Bingiplier, but he's never found solid proof of it – until now.

Warnings: Bullying, minor violence

Tagging: @peribloke (ask to be tagged!)

Read on AO3 (Full Whumptober Series)

Enjoy!

Oliver is not stupid.

He’s an android connected to the internet just like his brothers are, and thus he’s every bit as smart as they are. But they pretend he isn’t, sometimes. Not outwardly, probably not even intentionally, but they do.

Oliver knows they bully Bing. Oliver knows they get physical with them, knows they insult him in ways that cut deep. They hide it, though; they pretend to tolerate Bing when Oliver’s in the room, as if Oliver doesn’t know they’ll go right back to bullying Bing when he leaves. Bing tries to hide it, too, tries to hide where the injuries come from or why he’s crying, but Oliver knows it’s more out of pride and a desire to keep the peace than anything else. And Oliver, for his part, feels cowardly sometimes. He wants to acknowledge this unspoken secret, but what good will it do? He doesn’t have any concrete proof of it, not yet, and it won’t make his brothers stop hating Bing or vice versa. Maybe that’s part of why they hide it so much: For plausible deniability. More than cowardly, it makes Oliver feel plain angry.

The elephant in the room can’t be ignored any more when Oliver hears something one day: A small, muffled yelp, come from Plus’s workroom.

He pauses, listens, hears it again but much quieter this time. His first thought is that Plus might’ve hurt himself, so he gets up from his own workstation to go to him.

But when he gets there, he almost immediately backtracks, staying behind the mostly closed door and peeking through, because it’s not Plus who’s trying not to cry out.

It’s Bing.

Chrome is there, too, pushing Bing against the wall and holding him there as Plus pokes at him with some new tool he’s made – a soldering wand, thinner than an average one. Bing is squirming, in pain, trying to get away – but most of all, Oliver can see he’s humiliated, embarrassed to be stuck here as an unwilling guinea pig. His cheeks are blushing orange with shame and he won’t meet the eyes of Chrome or Plus.

“Come on,” Bing gasps, breath hitching as the wand burns holes into his arm, “Do you have to test this – ow – on me??”

“Yes,” Plus answers, deadpan. “I need to make sure it’ll work well on us, and I’m not risking hurting my brothers with such a new, unpredictable piece of tech.” He grins. “Don’t worry; if I can get the settings how I want them, I can solder the holes I’ve made shut again.”

“Gee, thanks,” Bing mutters, then yelps again at a particularly bad burn. Chrome shakes him in response.

“I keep telling you to be quiet,” Chrome snarls, “Do you want us to get caught? Do you want Oliver to see this?” Bing merely whimpers.

Oliver bristles, no, fumes to hear his name used against his best friend. It’s the shock to his system he needs to throw the door open. All three pairs of eyes snap towards him, and all three people cower slightly at the sight.

“Ollie–” Plus tries.

“Leave him alone.” Oliver’s surprised at how stony his own voice is, and judging by the looks on their faces, so are the others.

“Ollie, it’s not–” Chrome begins.

“Not what?” Oliver snaps. “Not what it looks like? Because I’m pretty sure it is. I’m not a fucking idiot, Chrome.”

Chrome shrinks back, and Bing and Plus’s eyes go wide. Oliver hardly ever swears. Chrome releases Bing like he’s something dangerous, and Bing scurries to Oliver’s side.

“Ollie–”

“Are you okay?” Oliver’s voice is a bit softer now as he takes Bing’s arm, the one with burn marks and soldering holes.

“Y-Yeah,” Bing mumbles, “It’s not…It’s not that bad.”

“Compared to what they’ve done before, you mean?” Oliver asks. Bing looks away.

“…I guess,” he admits, so quiet that even in a room full of androids with super-hearing he’s barely audible.

“Go wait for me at my workstation, I’ll repair you in a bit,” Oliver tells him. He gives Bing’s unhurt arm a gentle squeeze. Bing nods, clearly still unhappy, and leaves.

The room is quiet for a long moment. Chrome is staring at the floor, Plus is only barely meeting Oliver’s eyes, and any gentleness that remained in Oliver’s expression is gone again.

“This isn’t your problem, Oliver,” Chrome mutters, “We don’t like him and he doesn’t like us. That’s just how it is.”

“What if I didn’t like Yandere?” Oliver asks. Chrome’s head snaps up at that, but Oliver continues before he can speak. “What if I beat him up and made fun of him all the time? And what if I tried to hide it from you and thought I could get away with it?”

“Hey–” Plus murmurs.

“And Plus,” Oliver adds, turning to him, “What if I hated Dr. Iplier? What if I bullied him? Would you not be upset? Would you not be angry?”

“It’s not the same!” Plus bursts out.

“No, it’s not, is it?” Oliver snaps, sarcastic, “Because Bing is just the absolute worst and has nothing to offer anybody, huh? Even though–” He cuts himself off with a harsh breath, and takes a moment to compose himself before he continues. “Even though he’s my best friend. Even though he never tells me about what you guys do to him, because he doesn’t want to make things worse or hurt my feelings. Bing’s just the worst, but he’s more considerate to me than either of you.”

“Are you gonna yell at Google, then?” Chrome grumbles, “He’s meaner to Bing than either of us.”

“Maybe I will,” Oliver seethes, “But right now, I’m talking to you guys.” He sighs. “Look, I don’t expect you to be best friends with Bing or hand out with him or anything, but just…can you let him be? Or bully him less?” He breathes in another rough breath, and tears form in his eyes. “Please, for me, can you stop hurting him so much? You’re all important to me, I don’t want this to happen anymore.”

Both Chrome and Plus are by Oliver’s side in an instant, hugging him tight. None of the Googles can stand to see Oliver cry, even now. Oliver hugs them back despite himself.

“We’ll try,” Plus promises.

“We didn’t mean to hurt you,” Chrome murmurs.

“I know,” Oliver whimpers, “Just, please, really do try, okay?”

They promise, and a few minutes later, Oliver has recovered enough to go back to his workstation, where Bing is still sitting.

“Sorry it took me a bit,” Oliver says, a bit sheepish, “Didn’t mean to make you wait so long.”

“No worries,” Bing says, his easy grin back on his face.

It’s almost like nothing happened, like Oliver didn’t find his own brothers causing the injuries he now begins to treat. Fortunately, the holes are clean and smooth, easily patched over to leave the skin as perfect as it was before. But what happened still hangs in the air, and when Oliver is done, he can’t help but speak up.

“Bing,” Oliver asks, “How come you never talked to me about this?” Bing looks down, and Oliver continues, keeping his voice gentle. “I love my brothers, yeah, but I care about you, too.”

Bing stays looking down for a long moment. When he looks up, tears are running down his cheeks.

“I didn’t want you to get mad at them,” Bing whispers, shaky, “I didn’t want you to hate them. I know–” He sobs. “I know how important brothers are. I d-don’t want you to lose yours because of me.”

Oliver stares at Bing, stares at his friend on the edge of a breakdown after so much bullying, after laying himself bare to Oliver, and wonders if this is how Bing felt every time he ever held back or muffled his own cries of pain.

There’s nothing for Oliver to do but hug Bing and rub his back until he stops crying, and hope that things will be better from now on.

#whumptober2019 #no.18 #google oliver #bingiplier #markiplier fanfiction #markiplier #kristin says stuff #fanfic #my writing #poor bingy #and poor ollie #they just wanna be friends and be happy ;w;

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darkstache-iplier · 6 years

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Eric (Iplier) Derekson - The beginning

Welcome to another one of my fanfics. Today’s subject, baby boi Eric Derekson. This is just the introduction if you will, but soon enough I will have this fanfic going like the wild fire my heart is for this boi.

Enjoy!

------------------

When Eric first arrived at the Iplier's manor, his dad was not invited inside.

"Sorry, we only get villains, not assholes" was what he heard a man with a big 'B' on his tank top saying, before closing in the huge doors right on his dad's face. Then, he turned around and smiled, apologetically. "Sorry dude, house rules. You can stay as long as you want though, but first, I gotta take you to the meeting room"

"Who..." Eric tried, but his anxiety kicked in. Perhaps he was supposed to know who that person was, or maybe he wasn't supposed to ask questions. He wasn't even sure how he got to that manor in the first place. Maybe it was all a weird dream.

The guy just smiled, however.

"Oh sorry again bro, I didn't introduce myself" he said, raising his hand for a handshake. "I'm Bingiplier, but here I'm only called Bing. Or dude. Or whatever you wanna call me. I'm just the helper around anyway"

"B-Bing... like the... the search thingie?" Eric mumbled, raising his shaking hand. Bing took it in a firm grip and shook it wide and quick. It made Eric's heart beat faster for a moment or two. Maybe more.

"Exactly! We have the Google's here too but you're gonna meet them soon enough. Come on! I will take you there to introduce yourself!" he said, letting go (finally) of Eric's hand and guiding him upstairs. After looking around and sending once last glance towards the exit door, he followed the orange themed guy up the stairs, feeling his nerves kicking in at every step he took. His hands squeezed the handkerchief tight, looking around at the very fancy manor with some type of fright. Something seemed off in that place, something seemed scary, something seemed out of place, but it wasn't something uncomfortable.

It kinda felt like he belonged there... for some reason.

"There" Bingiplier (or should he call him Bing? Were they close enough for that?) pointed to a glass door. Here, things were cleaner, it all looked way more like a business building than a manor. Maybe the floors were thematic? Maybe Eric was reading too much into it all. Maybe Eric had never gone to a formal meeting without his dad before. Maybe he was panicking. Who knew? "I'll announce your arrival"

And just like that, Bing entered the room and Eric was left all alone.

Sure, he was only left alone for a minute or so, but it was time enough to make him regret his decision of going inside without his father. Maybe... just maybe this was too much for him to handle all by himself. His dad could certainly be a little inconvenient sometimes (but like not a lot, he loved his dad, he would never find his dad an inconvenience ever!), but Eric was not good with social interactions. Or any type of interactions. Actually, he was good at nothing at all. And his dad always showed him what to do, even if it was through screams or punishments. He couldn't handle himself on his own, not even if he was in a place where he... 'belonged'.

(But he didn't really belong anywhere)

When Bingiplier returned, he came with a man that Eric found immediately the scariest man in the planet. He even stepped back, feeling his legs tremble and his heart quicken its beats, and even a shiver went through his spine. The man had a glitched image, a 3D effect around him, he wore suits and dark clothes and he even had some weird make up on that made him look even scarier.

He was a living, walking nightmare.

"The last time someone looked at me with so much fear was ages ago. Literal years" the man said, and even his voice was broken. Eric felt a squeal come towards his throat, but he was so scared that not even that made its way out of his body. He just held his handkerchief close to his heart and gave another step back, trembling. "Calm down child. I will not harm you. My name is Dark. Darkiplier. You must have heard of me"

"N-n-never si-sir" he gasped out, with all strength he had, practically hugging his yellow rag with all his might. Darkiplier raised an eyebrow, turning his face to Bingiplier, who shrugged.

"The dude is like that. Scared like a little kitten"

"What a choice of words, Bing. You always impress me with your vocabulary skills"

"Oh thanks boss!"

"I was being sarcastic"

"Oh..."

Eric watched the scene unfold with really nothing to add. He wanted to run away, back to his father, and maybe never go back to that manor again. But now, he was already there, and like his father always said: 'stop being a coward pussy and do your fucking job right for once you freak!'

That usually motivated him to do the right thing.

"S-sorry, mi-mister Darkiplier..." he muttered, cleaning his throat and trying to speak a bit louder. "I... My name... my name is... E-Eric... Eric Derekson... It is... a pleasure t-to meet yo-you..."

Darkiplier and Bingiplier remained quiet for some time. A long time. A relatively long time, at least. A long time for Eric. Maybe it was a short time for them. He didn't really know, he didn't know them. But it was a long time for his dad. It usually meant he was angry. That couldn't be a good sign. Eric lifted his handkerchief, drying his sweaty forehead as the seconds passed by. He felt his entire body tremble like a leaf in the middle of a storm, so scared he had done something wrong, that he had offended them somehow... it was almost unbearable, to watch them watch him.

But he couldn't really go anywhere, or do anything to fix it. His mouth was glued shut.

"Eric, accompany me. You will present yourself to the others" Darkiplier said, suddenly, and Eric was pretty sure he imagined the dark grey on the man's cheek. A man like Darkiplier couldn't possibly blush. And Bingiplier just smiled, giving Eric what he thought was a 'good luck' thumbs up, but honestly, he felt no luck enter him. Only more and more fear. Even so, he approached Darkiplier and followed him towards the glass door. "They may seem strange or even scary at first, but I assure you they will not harm you Eric. Is that clear?"

"Y-ye-yes"

"Good. Come inside"

As Darkiplier opened the door, a whole new room appeared in front of Eric. It was a huge room, with a big TV on one side, and a long table with several places and people sitting around it, talking. As they entered, the talking quieted down a little, but didn't fully stop until both Eric and Darkiplier were standing next to the only empty chair in the room. The one that belonged to Darkiplier, Eric supposed. In one of the table's end. On the other side, on the other end, sat a man with wide eyes and a pink moustache that Eric had already seen before, somewhere. He couldn't really put his finger on it, but he knew he knew that man from somewhere.

"Egos" Darkiplier began, and he had the others' full attention. "This is our new member. Eric Derekson."

As usual, whenever he was presented to a large audience of people, there were no claps. (even if he wasn't sure if in these types of meetings, there should be claps)

"Him?" a man with a cowboy hat, wide sunglasses and a weird moustache asked, his accent thick even if spoken so quickly.

"What are his qualities? What makes him qualified to enter the Markiplier Egos?" a man with square glasses and a blue shirt with a big 'G' on it asked, glitching out a bit as he finished his sentence. Eric felt another shiver going up his spine.

"Quiet, quiet, quiet you all" the man with a pink moustache said, suddenly standing up, and all others seemed to go quiet at his sudden gesture. Apparently, he was the boss, together with Darkiplier. That thought alone made Eric dry his sweaty hands on his handkerchief, before twisting it on his hands, out of pure anxiety. "Kid... what's your name?"

"E-Eric" he mumbled, voice shaking, legs trembling, air missing from his lungs. The pink moustache man smiled in a somewhat gentle way.

"Hi. My name is Wilford Warfstache. Pleasure to meet you"

Wilford...

Wilford Warfstache?

Wilford Warfstache?!

WILFORD WARFSTACHE?!

"Y-you are Wilford War-War-War-War" he tried, but got stuck, breathing heavily and feeling his eyes water up in shame. Oh no. No no, he was embarrassing himself in front of one of his dad's biggest idols! Wilford Warfstache! The TV host, the guy who killed everybody, the police fugitive, the murderer of the family and their baby AND their dog, the game show host, the owner of Markiplier TV, the mad candyman man! THE Wilford Warfstache! The man his father wanted him to be! The man himself, right in front of him, and Eric wasn't even able to speak right?! He couldn't even say the man's name! And now he couldn't even see him anymore because his eyes were so full of tears he did not want to shed and his heart was beating so fast and his breathing was so quick that his vision was darkening a bit, or at least he thought it was, but then again his dad always said it was a big lie and that he only did it to call attention but now he didn’t want to call Wilford Warfstache's attention, he just wanted to cry because he couldn't just be normal and talk to someone like a normal person, and everything was spinning around him and he just wanted to be good for his dad and-

He woke up in a comfy bed, surrounded by white walls and lights.

"There you are, at last" someone spoke next to him, and Eric frowned, covering his eyes from the lights and reaching around for his handkerchief. "On your left" the same person said, and he reached for it, finding the soft rag and pulling it to his chest. "You gave everyone a scare, boy"

"I-I didn't... I didn't mean to..." he mumbled, slowly sitting up, and whoever was speaking to him helped him, putting a hand on his back. "Where... where am I? Who are you?"

"You are still in the Iplier's manor. In the medical section. I am doctor Iplier" he said, and as he turned off the lights, Eric's vision returned to normal and he saw a man with a lab coat and a smile next to him. "You had quite the panic attack earlier. I knew Wilford had some fans but I never thought I would see someone pass out like you did just because of his presence. His ego must be the size of a soccer field"

"S-so it wasn't a dream? This is really w-where Wilford Warfstache lives?" he asked, trembling again, and the doctor nodded, smiling lighter this time.

"Yes, yes it is. It is the Iplier Manor after all. And now you are somewhat part of the family as well, from what Dark told us"

"Part... part of the family?" Eric asked, eyes wide, and Dr. Iplier nodded, a little confused.

"Yes. You are an Iplier too, even if your name has nothing to do with it. You are one of Mark's egos, just like us" he explained, calmly, but nothing of it really made sense. Eric couldn't be one of the Ipliers! He didn't have the name, or the good looks, or the intelligence, or the appeal, or anything! He was just a training actor with some adds gig for the huge Markiplier, that he surely only got for pity or because his dad had enough charisma to sell them both to the great Markiplier man.

He couldn't possibly be one of them. There was no way.

"S-sorry, I think... I think you mistook me for someone... someone else" he said, slowly standing up and drying his already sweaty forehead. "I have... I must go. Where is the exit?"

"Um... second door to the left and then straight down the hall..." Dr. Iplier said, frowning lightly at him. "Are you sure you don't want to stay? You haven't met all of the Iplier's yet, and Wilford is not mad at you, if that's your concern..."

"N-no, I should... I should go. Th-thank you for-for taking care... care of me" Eric mumbled, smiling shakily and waving towards the doctor. "M-maybe I can... I can come back an-another day with-with my dad! I need to go home... goodbye"

And just like that, Eric walked off, taking the second door to the left and rushing down the hall until he saw the exit. Once he was outside, he noticed it was already dark, and his dad seemed to be in an awful mood for having to wait him around so long.

"Eric! Finally! What the fuck were you doing that took you so long?! And why the hell wouldn't they allow me to go inside?! Next time, I am coming with you, got it?! Now tell me everything you saw! I hope you didn’t screw up Eric, this could be our chance to become big in something!" his dad rambled, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him towards the car. Eric walked in silence, letting his dad ramble as much as he could, so he wouldn't say he passed out in the presence of Wilford Warfstache. After today, none of the Ipliers would ever want him around again. It would be a miracle to actually have a new chance with them. They probably thought he was a weirdo, and they were not wrong.

Eric truly had no chance on becoming anyone in life.

And he just wasted his best opportunity.

------------------

"Doctor, where did he go?"

"He left"

The egos all looked at each other, confused and somewhat curious as well. Wilford and Dark seemed a bit outraged.

"What do you mean he left?" Dark growled, stepping forward, but dr. Iplier just sighed and shook his head.

"I couldn't do anything Dark, if I kept him here, he would be traumatized for life" he said, frowning lightly and looking down at the exams he had performed in Eric before he had left. "His reaction wasn't normal, even for an Iplier. He has some type of severe anxiety that I can't honestly diagnose until I have a talk with him, but that also doesn't seem to be happening any time soon. I don't think he will return by his own will..."

"His father might bring him back, however" Google stepped into the conversation, opening a few files in front of him. "From a quick research on the history of the Derekson's, his father is quite the fan of Warfstache, and for the reason alone he might come back with his younger son Eric even if just to get a conversation out of Wilford"

"That makes sense" Wilford agreed, and Dark did as well, soon joined by the rest of the egos. "We will wait for his return, and maybe then we can have a chat with both him and his father"

"If he is one of us" Dark started, his aura seeming to glitch more than normal "he won't be left behind"

#my fanfic #eric derekson #markipliers egos #this one can go on the official tags because there is no ships #thank god #dr iplier #darkiplier #wilford warfstache #bingiplier #this is gonna be a wild ride #derek derekson

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shy-marker-pliers · 5 years

Text

Yellow, Yellow, Yellow.

Characters: Google Yellow (Oliver) Google Blue, Bingiplier

Ships: I guess you could interpret some of it as Oliver/Bing?

Warnings: Capslock (one sentence), Swearing (once), slight angst.

“Well I guess he does look a little bit like an Oliver...” Mark’s tumblr read. Google Yellow stopped for a moment in order to process the new data, the android equivalent of confusion.

“Red, Green, Blue!“ He called out.

The other three Google IRL models, his ‘brothers’, came to Yellow’s station as soon as they heard him.

“Do you require our assistance, Yellow?” Blue asked in his usual monotone.

“Mark has stated on his tumblr account that I look like an Oliver. Why?“

Green quickly scrolled through Mark’s social media, the others looking over his shoulder as he did so.

“Here. He was making a tweet about all of us and referred to us by our colors, but his phone’s autocorrect changed your name to Oliver. A simple error.” He explained.

Satisfied with the results, Blue Green, and Red went back to their stations, and Yellow stayed at his. “Oliver...” he whispered to himself.

“What are you doing? You’re supposed to be gathering data on the Community.”

“I am. Sort of...” Yellow muttered as he dismissed his holographic screen.

Blue sighed. “I saw your screen. You were searching ‘google Oliver’ on tumblr. You’re not being productive.”

“That’s what They call me now. They say it’s my new name.“ he said, ignoring Blue’s comment.

Blue stared at the other for a few seconds and sighed.

“Get back to work, Yellow.“ He said quietly.

“Bing? are you in there?” Yellow asked, knocking on the door to Bing’s room. when the other android answered, Yellow sighed and looked down at his feet.

“I...require your assistance.“

Bing chuckled and opened the door to let Yellow in. “Never thought i’d live to see the day when a Google would be askin’ me for help. first time for everything, I guess.” he mused, flopping down in a beanbag chair and gesturing for the other to do the same.

Yellow gingerly lowered himself next to Bing as he took his sunglasses off, revealing his glowing orange irises.

“Talk to me, dude.” he said with a surprisingly serious expression.

“They’re calling me Oliver.“ Yellow mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“And...?”

“I don’t know! They gave me a name, and now...Yellow just doesn’t seem like me anymore. I know it sounds dumb and illogical, but when I saw the art and stories and stuff people made for me, it was so nice to finally be recognized as a-a person and not just one of the googles.” he paused to catch his breath and wiped his eyes.

“Jeez dude, that’s...you’ve got a lot on your mind, huh?“

Yellow simply nodded. “Some of them call me Ollie, Bing. They call me Ollie and it makes me want everyone else to call me that too, but if Red, Green, and Blue found out...I have no idea how they’d react.” He whispered, his voice cracking. He buried his face in his hands and took a few shaky breaths as Bing rubbed his back comfortingly.

“To be honest, I don’t really think it would matter that much to them? Like, you could just tell them you wanna be Oliver from now on. I don’t think they’d flip their shit or anything. then again, you know them better than I do.“

“It’s not that easy...My brothers, they’re all about efficiency and logic. I don’t need to be Oliver to do my job, therefore i’m not Oliver, you know?“

“Yeah, I do. If you don’t wanna tell them that’s cool, but if you ever need to talk about it again, my door’s always open, yeah?“ Bing smiled, getting up from his beanbag chair and holding his hand out to Yellow, who took it and stood up.

Yellow looked at him with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Bing.” He said, pulling him into a hug.

“No problem.”

“Yellow, could you assist me in looking over this data?“ Blue asked. The question itself was innocent enough, but it made him flinch nonetheless.

It was nothing new. Ever since his talk with Bing, Yellow-if he could even call himself that anymore-found himself hating his name more and more.

“Yes, of course.“

He walked over to Blue’s station and stood next to him. the two processed the data in silence for a while before Blue spoke.

“I saw you go into Bing’s room yesterday.“

The statement caught Yellow off guard, especially with the nonchalance Blue had said it with. So much so that he let out a small squeak.

“I...simply needed to ask him something.“

“We are much more efficient at answering questions. Why didn’t you ask one of us, Yellow?“

Yellow felt his fingers twitch. He knew that Blue meant nothing by it, of course, he couldn’t have known how much he hated his name.

“It was a personal matter.”

“Why didn’t you talk to us about it? We are your brothers, after all.”

“I...just needed a different perspective.”

“I don’t believe you. What is the real problem, Yellow?”

“THAT! IT’S THAT FUCKING NAME, I...I can’t take it anymore, Blue! I don’t want to be Yellow anymore, I can’t be...I want to be Oliver. That’s why I was talking to Bing. I needed advice on how to tell you. I was...I was scared of what you would say. What you would think of me.”

“Names are just identifiers. Why should it matter what you are called?”

“It’s not like that for me, Blue. For you, Green, and Red maybe, but for me names are more than words. They’re who you are, not just what you’re called, and I don’t feel like i’m Yellow anymore. I feel like i’m Oliver.”

Blue stared at him, and for a moment Yellow was terrified that he’d made a horrible mistake, but he just turned back to his screen.

“I suppose I will have to change your name in my database, then.“

Yellow-now named Oliver- gasped in disbelief. “Really? you don’t care if I change my name?”

“Not particularly, no.“

“T-thank you so much, Blue.“

“Of course, Oliver.“

Hearing his new name come out of someone else’s mouth was incredible. Oliver practically glowed with happiness. He finally felt complete.

#googleplier #google oliver #google red #google blue #google green #the googles #idk lol #oh look a thinly veiled metaphor #bingiplier #markiplier #markiplier egos #fics #my writing #ollie needs a hug

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saviwrites · 5 years

Note

Compromise- Marvin and the host

Thanks for the request! Hope you like it!

It wasn’t often that the Septics were invited to the Iplier section of Ego Headquarters, but Dark had requested to see Anti personally, so everyone had gone to spend the day. Anti was in Dark’s office discussing lord knows what, Chase was with Bingiplier and Jackieboy Man showing off their newest trick shots, Dr. Schneeplestein was in the infirmary with Dr. Iplier to talk about doctor stuff, JJ was having tea with Eric and Google, and Marvin was searching the library.

Normally he wasn’t fond of reading, but he wanted to improve his magic skills for his next appearance (which would be hopefully soon). And the only way to do that was through practice and study. He had already read through all of the magic books back home and quietly perused the shelves for more to study. The library seemed empty, but Wilford had given him a word of warning about the Host.

“He’s not the most… approachable Ego,” he said, “He likes to spend time in the library alone, so just keep to yourself, and you’ll be fine… hopefully.”

Marvin tried not to think too much about it. He knew that the Host was powerful and that even Dark was wary of him at times, but he had never actually seen him in the flesh. For all he knew, the Host was just an elaborate joke played on newcomers.

Marvin stopped suddenly, looking at his surroundings. He had the feeling that something-or someone-was watching him, but there was no one that he could see. He shrugged and turned back to the shelf, reaching towards an interesting leatherbound. Just then another hand reached out at the same time, grabbing the book at the same time.

Marvin let out an undignified shriek, looking to his left. Next to him stood a man in a tan trenchcoat and bloody bandages over his eyes, with a bleached streak in his hair. Marvin was almost too scared to move, staring at the stranger with wide eyes. The stranger stared back. As the silence grew painfully uncomfortable, Marvin finally spoke, his voice squeaking a bit.

“You, uh, you m-must be this Host I keep hearing about.”

The man didn’t say anything but continued to stare at him. Marvin shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, I-I was just looking through. If you just…” Marvin tugged at the book slightly, only to find that the man had a grip like iron on it.

“The Host would like to know what you intend to do with this book.”

Marvin gulped. “I was only going to borrow it for a bit. I need to study so I can show off during my next video. The fans are looking forward to seeing me, and I can’t let them down.”

The Host continued to stare at the magician, who was sweating quite a bit at this point. The Host tilted his head as if appraising the young ego.

“Marvin the Magnificent. You’ve only been in one official video thus far.”

Gulping again, Marvin nodded, too scared to speak, then realized that it was probably hard the Host to see through his blindfolds. “Y-yes.” he said quietly, “But I’m due for another one any day now. And I’ve been in the background for quite a few.”

The Host harshly pulled the book away from Marvin’s grip, holding it in front of him like a shield. The stains around his eyes seemed to get darker. “You sound… hopeful.”

Marvin waited with bated breath, eyeing the book impatiently. The sooner he was out of here and away from this guy, the better. Something about the eerily calm way he spoke made Marvin nervous. It was like he already knew what the outcome of this encounter would be.

“The Host will give you this book,” he said slowly, “On one condition. You have to stay in the library and practice here where the Host can observe your work.”

Marvin opened his mouth, then shut it again, looking very much like a fish out of water. “Well, you see, I can’t exactly do that.” Marvin tried to explain, “Anti has this control freak thing where we have to be in the same building as him most of the time. And since we’re only staying for the day…” Marvin trailed off as he watched the Host’s grip on the book tighten.

“If the Host talks to Antisepticeye, would he allow you to stay while you practice?”

Marvin blinked. “Um… maybe? I honestly have no idea.”

They stood in another uncomfortable silence, which seemed to be a common theme here.

“The Host will talk to Antisepticeye and see if he will let you visit more often for your ‘research’. In the meantime, you can stay here and work on your parlor tricks.”

“Hey, they are not just parlor tricks.” Marvin said, “They can also be used at parties and stuff.”

The corners of the Host’s mouth tugged upwards for a brief moment, then he passed the book to Marvin. “The Host will return shortly. Wait here.”

And with that, Marvin was left alone again. He let out a breath as his body slumped forward in relief. God that was tense as fuck. He’d rather be operated on by Schneep than go through that again. He looked down at the thick book in his hands, brushing the dust off the cover. Advanced Magic Tricks for Beginners Volume 2. He wondered where the first volume was when a voice spoke behind him.

“The Host has returned.”

Marvin jumped, spinning around to look at the blindfolded man.

“Jeezus, you gotta stop doing that!” he exclaimed, “I could’ve hit you or something!” Marvin sighed, rubbing his eyes through his mask. “Did you talk to Anti? What did he say?”

“We came to a compromise,” The Host replied, “You can come to our library during the weekends and study, as long as you stay here where the Host can keep an eye on you.”

Marvin’s eyes widened. He didn’t expect Anti to actually agree to anything.

“Is that not satisfactory?”

“N-No, it’s okay. It’s just… I wasn’t expecting that of him. He’s not exactly lenient on things like this.”

“The Host can be very persuasive when he wants to be,” he said with a smile that sent chills down Marvin’s spine. It reminded him of a predator about to strike. The Host suddenly turned around and started to walk off.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“The Host will show you where you can practice your magic safely. Come now.”

Marvin hesitated for a moment before following him deeper between the shelves.

#markiplier #jacksepticeye #markiplier egos #jacksepticeye egos #the host #marvin the magnificent #hope you enjoy #my writing #writers of mark #writers of jack

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falseroar · 5 years

Text

Anniversaries Part 2: One Day, Many Surprises

((Link to Part 1: The Best Laid Plans. As a side note, I wanted to say something about how the Host is depicted in this story but put it in the end section because it does contain spoilers for this part.))

“Come on, you must want to do something for your birthday.”

“The Host is fine with a quiet day to himself. As the Host has told Markiplier multiple times, his anniversary is just another day for him.”

Mark bit back a sigh as he stared down at the ego, who sat on the edge of his bed, hands folded, head tilted down as if just patiently waiting to be left alone.

“Fine, but if there’s something you want to do or somewhere you want to go, just speak up. Tomorrow’s your birthday, you’re allowed to be a little selfish.”

The Host did not respond. He knew that Mark meant well, but the sentiment was spoiled when he could sense the guilt running through the other man. Remembering dates just wasn’t something Mark was good at.

Mark looked around and took in the other bed, half of it covered in mechanical parts and cables. “You’re sure you’re okay with sharing a room with all of the androids?”

“The Host is only sharing a room with the Googles, and they do not need to charge all at the same time. Bingiplier is using the outlet in Chase Brody and Marvin the Magnificent’s bedroom as needed. He has found that they are less likely to unplug him during a recharge than some of the other egos. This situation is more preferable to the Host than sharing with the alternative, as Ed Edgar tends to snore in his sleep.”

Mark decided not to push it. It felt like a miracle that they’d been able to find a house big enough to fit all of them for a couple of nights. Well, “miracle” might not be the right word, considering who had found it.

When Dark showed the place to him a couple of days ago, the first thing Mark had commented on was the number of bedrooms.

“It was the largest one I could find that afforded some privacy,” Dark had said, misinterpreting his comment. “Most of us will have to double up, but it should do.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask what you had to do to rent this place,” Mark said as they finished their walk through of the house.

Dark rolled his eyes and said, “Oh, I just took care of the previous occupants in a way to make sure there would be no police report. In an unrelated note, no one is to go into the attic while we are here.”

He saw Mark’s expression and added, “That was a joke. This is an old house, I came across it decades ago. It just took the right calls to have it ready in time for us.”

Just as Mark started to relax, Dark added as an afterthought, “But seriously, go into the attic and I will flail you alive.”

The Host shifted, bringing Mark back to the present, and said, “The Host will keep Mark’s offer in mind.”

Mark nodded, figuring that this was the most he could hope for, and walked out of the room. The Host waited until the door closed before he repeated Mark’s words aloud, “’A little selfish’…”

Easier said than done.

He sighed. He wanted, more than anything, to be surprised tomorrow instead of knowing exactly how the day would go. The egos, not meaning anything by it, might remember to say something over breakfast, but as the morning went on, they would forget about him. Mark would go out of his way to get a gift for the Host, which would be appreciated but not necessary. If he were truly fortunate, he might have a few hours alone in the house while the others went outside to enjoy the beach and fresh air, time that he could spend reading or otherwise occupied until they returned and he went back to quietly narrating in the corner, waiting for the day to finally end.

A day like any other for him, just in a different location.

---

His first surprise came in the form of a knock on the bedroom door, so early in the morning that his narration told him it was still dark out. He startled but made no move to open it as he knew one of the Googles would get there first. He only turned at the sound of your voice and said, “Y/N is awake early this morning. Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing like that,” you answered as the red-shirted Google stepped aside. The Host could just barely sense your relief at the sound of his voice in the midst of the blur of conflicting mental images that made up you in his narration, as hard to read as ever. “I know you’re always up early, and I wanted to see if you’d like to watch the sun rise together.”

“The Host would enjoy that,” he said as he stood and crossed the room, narrating quietly to himself as he stepped over charging cables and around the blue-shirted Google sitting up against one of the walls, body unusually relaxed and at ease while he charged. “The Host knows of a place, if Y/N is up for a short walk.”

“Sure,” you said, and then after a second of hesitation looked at the Google at the door. “Uh, sorry, I should have asked, do any of you…?”

“We would prefer to avoid the beach,” the Google answered flatly.

Was that another flash of relief from you? The Host wasn’t sure, but you and the Googles did have a less than stellar history together. “While Googliplier is water-resistant to a certain point when properly prepared, the salt water is especially corrosive to their inner workings.”

“And don’t even get me started on the sand,” Google muttered. “Bing is going to be venting that stuff out of his systems for weeks.”

Google closed the door behind the Host, and together the two of you walked down the halls, both trying to be quiet to avoid waking any of the others.

“I kind of feel guilty having a room all to myself when everyone else has to share,” you admitted when you made it downstairs and pulled open the sliding door that led out on to the back porch.

“Y/N was also given the smallest room and the only one with a single bed, so the Host believes it worked out for the best.”

Outside, the air was warm and still, a spattering of stars still up in the sky but already fading with the growing light. The Host took in a deep breath of the salty breeze blowing in from the west and realized that he hadn’t been outside since he first arrived yesterday.

“Do you not like the beach?”

The Host also realized that he had been narrating out loud again.

“The Host had other things on his mind at the time,” the Host said, well aware that he was avoiding the question. He turned and pointed as he said, “The place the Host is referring to is just down that way.”

He led the way down the stairs and turned left before reaching the beach proper to follow a trail you had missed in the daylight. It took the two of you away from the house until it was hidden by the rise of the land, and then up a sandy hill. The Host struggled here, his feet sliding on the quickly shifting sand, until you offered your hand. Together, you half-walked, half-pulled each other up to the top of the broad hilltop, where the Host had to stop to catch his breath before he could speak again.

“From here, Y/N should be able to see the sun just as it rises over those hills.” He pointed and added, “The Host thanks Y/N for thinking of them this morning. He does not get out as often as he should.”

“Well, today is your anniversary,” you said, and he could hear the smile in your voice. “And I wanted to do something special for you.”

“The Host…” The Host paused, one of the few times he was uncertain of what to say, and you continued as if afraid to stop, as if you had lost track somewhere of what you had planned to say next.

“That’s why I—Marvin, he gave me this—”

And you pressed something into his hand, a piece of fabric that seemed to buzz with energy when it touched both his hand and yours for just a brief moment, followed by a pressure around his eyes.

You stopped to take a breath and said, “I meant it when I said I wanted to watch the sun rise with you, Host.”

Slowly, as if in a daze, the Host reached up and began to unwind the stained bandages, his fingers fumbling because he hardly dared to narrate his own actions. Before they were fully off you were speaking again, quickly, nervously.

“I’m sorry, I wanted it to be a surprise, but I know I should have asked first, and it will only last for 24 hours—”

The Host blinked, aware of the growing light as for the first time in years his eyes attempted to focus on his blurry but growing clearer by the second surroundings, aware of the scars that stung in the fresh air but no longer bled, aware that the brown in his damaged eyes glowed gold with the magic, however temporary it may be.

Aware of the brief surprise that crossed your face before he pulled you into a hug.

“I’m sorry it’s only for a day,” you said into his shoulder and it was all the Host could do not to laugh.

“The Host thinks Y/N should stop apologizing long enough for the Host to thank them,” he said, blinking away tears, his first real tears in he didn’t know how long. He did not notice the handkerchief in your hand, folded so that it resembled a blindfold, or how you ran your thumb over it as if feeling the magic that had affected you both before tucking it into your pocket.

Together, you sat down on top of the hill and watched the sun rise. The Host’s narration seemed to fail him as he took in the colors spreading across the land, the way the light shifted and changed as the sun rose, as it hit the face of the friend beside him that he was seeing for the first time. A face to go with the you he thought he knew, but could still so easily surprise him.

---

The Host’s second surprise came later that morning, when you and he finally made your way back down to the house. There, you found Jack, Mark, and most of their egos eating breakfast. The dining room table was almost full, but many of the egos were happy to sprawl out and eat just about anywhere.

A few of them glanced up when the two of you entered, but it was Dr. Iplier who stopped mid sentence and stared as you found seats at the table.

“Host…Your eyes…”

The Host was used to being less ignored and more treated as background noise by the other egos, so to suddenly have all eyes on him, to have everyone actually listening as he explained that you and the magician had, however temporarily, restored his sight, was almost as overwhelming as when they all began to speak at once, all full of ideas on how the Host could spend his day.

The Host glanced at Mark, who gave him an encouraging nod, and cleared his throat before he said, “The Host—I would like to spend some time on the beach after breakfast.”

He spent most of that breakfast with his narration silent, his focus on studying the people around him. Some of the egos were so new that they had never even heard of the Author; others he now had to readjust his mental image of to match the small subtle ways they had changed over the years. As he looked around, he couldn’t help but notice the two people very conspicuously missing.

At some point it occurred to Bim that the Host probably didn’t have anything comfortable to wear out on the beach, and as soon as the Host finished eating, he was being dragged upstairs by his fellow egos for a change of clothes.

“I should—” you started to stand up as you spoke, but stopped when Jack spoke at the same time.

“I thought there wasn’t a spell to return the Host’s vision.”

He was looking at Marvin as he spoke, who sank a little in his chair as he answered, “Well, we were hoping to find something permanent, remember?”

“And Marvin just found this spell not long ago,” you added. Mark and Dr. Iplier were also looking suspicious, so you said, “It was my idea not to tell you guys, so that it could be a surprise. The Host doesn’t ‘read’ the Septic egos as often as the others, so he wasn’t as likely to notice if they were the only ones who knew.”

“It just sounds awfully convenient,” Mark said.

You didn’t look at any of the Septic egos, for fear that one of them would give it away as you answered, “It’s only for one day, Mark. Let him enjoy it.”

“I’m not trying to…” Mark paused and looked to Jack for help.

But it was Dark, standing in the doorway listening, who responded first. “The problem is that there is always a price to pay for something like this. You should know that better than anyone, Y/N.”

You were temporarily distracted by the sharp sound of Jack inhaling, and saw his eyes widen as it clicked. He started to speak but it became a yelp as a “careless” gesture from Dr. Schneeplestein knocked his coffee off the table and straight into his lap.

“Ooo, that’s not good,” Jackieboy Man said, pulling his creator up to his feet where you could all see the dark stain spreading. “Quick, we should all go into the kitchen and help you take care of that right now.”

“It’s fine, Mark,” you said once Jack had been ushered into the kitchen by all of his egos in the most suspicious exit ever. You might have considered telling Mark now that Jack had already figured it out, but after what Dark just said you weren’t about to explain yourself in front of him. Besides, you told yourself, Mark would just worry, and Dark would only take advantage of the situation.

“We’ve gone over it, and we can handle it. Just trust me on this, okay?”

Dark’s eyes flashed angrily a minute later, after you had left the room. “You’re just going to leave it at that? You know they’re hiding something!”

“Of course they are,” Mark said. “I’m not an idiot, but neither is Y/N. They know what they’re doing. I just…”

He let the thought trail away without finishing it, partially because he didn’t want to admit in front of Dark that he wished you would just be more willing to ask for help when you needed it, but also because only a minute or two later he heard you calling down the stairs before you returned to the dining room.

“Mark,” you said with the tone of someone trying very hard either not to laugh or not to yell. “Yesterday, when you said ‘we packed a bag for you’, who exactly packed my stuff?”

“Uh…” Mark looked at Dark, who shrugged. “What, is it not in your room?”

“Oh, it’s there. I just want to know who picked out my swimsuit.”

“You have a swimsuit?”

“No, I don’t,” you said, gesturing down to the shorts and shirt you now wore. “And if I did, it wouldn’t just be a couple of strings and a hope. So where did that thing in my bag come from?”

Mark opened his mouth, considered, and said, “That’s a fantastic question. Dark?”

Dark also took some time to consider the common knowledge among all of the Iplier egos, which was that if no one was going to confess to something, there was really only one obvious answer.

“…Kinkiplier.”

The Host’s third surprise for the day was just how loud you could yell when you really wanted to, but that came as a shock to all of the other egos who were also on their way down the stairs, alongside how they could, without a single word among them, agree to get out of the house with a silence that would have shocked the three in the dining room if they’d bothered to notice.

His next surprise was more subtle, one that came to him at some point as he stood waist deep in the water, bracing himself for the next wave to hit while nearby Jameson, Chase, Silver Shepherd, and Yandereplier were hitting a large inflatable beach ball around and trying to keep it from touching the water. It was that, in all of the ways he saw today going, he hadn’t imagined himself out here with the others. It wasn’t only because, without his sight, the unsteady sand was difficult to navigate and he didn’t dare to go into the water for fear of going out too far or being knocked down by a wave he couldn’t sense coming in time.

He knew yesterday that if he simply asked, you or Mark or one of the other egos would have been willing to lend a hand or keep an eye out for him. It’s that the thought never crossed his mind to actually do it, to just spend time with the others and enjoy the moment.

The Host reached out with one hand and bapped the ball as it strayed his way, sending it over Chase’s head and into Yan’s waiting palm, and before long he found himself drawn into the silly, pointless game that would inevitably lead to everyone trying to splash each other until a wave caught the Host off guard and sent him tumbling over into the water. He sat up, coughing, and Silver barely had time to laugh before another wave knocked him over with the power of karma.

By the time he returned to shore, the Host was absolutely soaked, water dripping from his clothes and hair and sand sticking in unfortunate places, and when you looked up from helping the doctors to bury Jack in the sand you shared his grin.

Later, as he showered to wash away the salt and sand, the Host gave some thought to how he wanted to spend the rest of his day.

It was okay to be a little selfish, Mark had said.

He was so focused on that thought that he forgot to narrate on his way out of the bathroom and so ran into yet another surprise for the day:

Wilford Warfstache, standing outside the door to his room with a wrapped gift in one hand and his other raised as if to knock, a gesture so foreign to the man that he seemed to have stalled in the process.

Except, even as the Host watched, Wilford lowered his hand and rubbed his eyes.

“Wilford?”

Wilford spun around and broke into a smile, but the Host could see his dark brown eyes were a little too bright as he said, “There you are! What are you doing, hiding on such a special day?!”

The Host started to answer but stopped himself. He had difficulty sensing Wilford on a normal day, same as you, but he could feel the hazy mix of a hundred different emotions and thoughts swarming around the man, some flitting by too fast to read, others lingering just long enough to leave an impression before being drowned out by another. At first it felt random, but then he realized that the strongest ones were repeating, each lasting a different length of time but always giving way to the next.

Fear.

Guilt.

Shame.

Hope.

And back around again.

“The Host missed Wilford at breakfast this morning, and outside with the others.”

“Well, turns out wrapping is harder than it looks!” Wilford said. “The paper, the tape, the scissors, the knife, and then you need even more paper, but, well, I think the results speak for themselves.”

He handed the Host the present, a box wrapped in at least ten different styles of paper, somehow all clashing with each other and with the bright pink bow stuck on top. The Host took the gift gently, concerned both because it looked like it could fall apart at any second and because with Wilford there could be literally anything inside the box.

“Well, open it, open it,” Wilford said, and when the Host started to pull off the paper added, “Come on now, we’re not going to save the paper! Tear it off!”

The Host ripped away the paper to find a box significantly smaller than the original present. It was a pair of over the ear headphones, professional, high-end quality. Much nicer than anything the Host would have picked out for himself.

“Your old pair looked like they could fall apart if someone were to maybe pick them up and try them on just for fun one night, really not sturdy at all,” Wilford said. “Who needs those things?”

“Thank you, Wilford,” the Host said. “The Host…honestly didn’t expect you to remember his birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?!” Wilford threw an arm around the ego’s shoulders. “We should go out on the town, really make a night of it, if you know what I mean.”

“The Host…appreciates Wilford’s enthusiasm,” he said, struggling to breathe under Wilford’s grip until he managed to slip free. “But the Host already has plans for tonight.”

He hesitated and added, “But the Host is open to doing something with Wilford another night. Within reason.”

“Ah, always a catch,” Wilford said, but he grinned at that. He turned to walk away and stopped to look back at the Host. “You look different today…Did you do something with your hair?”

The Host blinked at Wilford and said, “Perhaps Wilford means the Host’s eyes?”

“…Nah, that’s not it. Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out.”

Wilford walked away, humming to himself, and the Host chuckled to himself as he looked down at the boxed headphones.

Later that afternoon, after some time with the other egos, the Host found you in your room, going through your bag in case there were any more surprises in there. “The Host…has a request. He—I was hoping to go into town, if Y/N would like to join me. There is a theater not far from here, and…”

And the Host enjoyed the idea of watching a movie, really watching it and not relying on an audio description device that clashed with the narration constantly running through his mind out of reflex in an unfamiliar place. And, when you were more than happy to go with him, he enjoyed being able to walk without straining to read ahead, without accidentally reading the lines of the people who passed on the sidewalk, without the stares directed at the bandages around his eyes.

Just being able to spend time with you, outside of the house, without worrying or his attention spread in a hundred different directions at once.

After the movie, and wandering up and down the streets and in and out of the stores for fun if not to buy anything, the Host had one last place he wanted to go before heading back. To your surprise, the destination turned out to be a coffee shop just a few streets away from the house.

“Isn’t it a little late for coffee?” you asked as you waited in line with him.

The Host cleared his throat. Even though he didn’t currently need his narration to “see”, it was still difficult to break the habit of using third person all the time. “I don’t want to go to sleep, not tonight. I want to enjoy Y/N’s gift for as long as possible.”

“Two coffees,” you said when you reached the counter, and when the Host raised his eyebrows you smiled and said, “Challenge accepted. If you’re staying up all night, then so am I.”

The Host laughed at that and you teased each other as you took your coffees to the side counter where the creams and sugars were located.

“Oh,” you said when you noticed the container for those cardboard cup sleeves was empty. “Hang on, I’ll go see if they have any at the register.”

The Host held the too warm cup in between his hands, enjoying the rich steam drifting up as he watched you walk over to the counter and wait for the barista to finish with her current customer. His smile disappeared when he noticed two men across the shop watching you as well, especially when one whispered something to the other and started to approach you.

You could take care of yourself, he knew that, and he also knew that it was really none of his business. Knowing that didn’t stop him from being any less nosy or protective as he whispered into his coffee, “The Host looks at the man approaching Y/N and sees his intentions and what kind of person he is.”

Barely a second later he practically snarled the words, “Oh, absolutely not, the man stops and turns around to leave, taking his friend with him until the Host has time to properly deal with both of them.”

He continued to mutter darkly into his cup until he saw you turn around, two coffee cup sleeves in hand, at which point he stopped and smiled.

“Everything okay?” you asked and the Host realized he might not have as great a poker face as he originally thought.

“The…I just got an idea for my radio show,” he said. “Just making sure I don’t forget the characters I have in mind.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard your show,” you admitted as you walked out together into the warm evening air. “What’s it about?”

“That’s okay, it’s not for everyone. Generally, it’s just about whatever I feel like talking about in that moment. Sometimes the Host just narrates about particular people or events. But I do enjoy telling a story of my own creation every now and then,” the Host admitted. “Right now, I’m starting to think it’s time the Host tried his hand at horror again.”

As you neared the house, the Host considered Mark’s words again and wondered just how selfish he could be. He took a breath and asked, “How does Y/N feel about watching the stars?”

A few hours later, he found himself back on the hill he started out the day on, but now you two had blankets to sit on and cover up with, and thermoses of coffee and hot chocolate supplied by Chef Iplier tucked close to keep you warm as the Host pointed out the different stars and constellations overhead. He knew a story for every one of them and how to lead those stories into yet another and another, even if he had to make most of them up himself, but eventually he trailed off and just laid there on his back, staring up at the stars.

“Host?” you asked, glancing over.

“The Host was just thinking that he hasn’t had a day like this in…a long time.”

“Then we’ll have to do it again sometime.”

“But Y/N said the spell only last 24 hours.”

You sat up and looked over at him. “Yeah, but we can still do stuff like this, right? You know, just get out and spend time together.”

If there’s something you want to do or somewhere you want to go, just speak up, Mark had said. Easier said than done, but…

“…Yeah, I’d like that.”

You tried, you really did, but the Host could only smile when he noticed that you had finally dozed off and take in the silence all around, broken only by the distant crash of waves hitting the shore. At least, until the stars began to fade.

“Y/N,” the Host said gently. “The sun is going to rise soon.”

“’M not asleep,” you muttered, rubbing at your eyes as you sat up.

Together on top of the hill, you watched the sun rise and the gold fade from the Host’s eyes, until he sighed and said, “Thank you, Y/N.”

You reached out and gripped his hand. “Happy Birthday, Host.”

Tired but happy, the Host stood and made his way down the hill to the house, where Dr. Iplier was no doubt waiting with fresh bandages, assured that you would go back in your own time. You just wanted to stay out here a little longer, you told him.

It was on top of the hill where Marvin and Dr. Schneeplestein found you just a few minutes later. It took both of them to not only gather up the blankets and thermoses but also to help you up onto your feet, and you had to lean heavily on Marvin all the way down the hill.

Dark was right. The spell did require a price, exactly equal and opposite of what it gave. But, as you told Marvin while Dr. Schneeplestein clucked and checked your eyes, you knew it was worth it. Every single minute.

((End of Part 2. Thank you for reading!

So the note I mentioned at the beginning is that I want to make it clear that the thing keeping the Host from getting out and enjoying himself was not his blindness. I’m not sure how well it came across in the writing, but the idea is more that the Host was relying far too much on his narration. His narration isn’t always right (nothing he saw about how his birthday would go was correct, and because he isn’t looking for it he completely misses what’s going on with Y/N at the end), but he relies on it for day to day life. Even when he doesn’t need it to see, he still falls into third person because it makes him feel safe and in control of his situation. And for situations where he can’t rely on his narration, he would rather avoid them than ask for help or assistance. He also allows his narration to make assumptions about the people around him, which aren’t always right or the full picture (just because Mark felt guilty about forgetting didn’t mean he didn’t care about the Host; the egos don’t just ignore him when he’s willing to speak up for himself for once). As Y/N points out at the end, just because he doesn’t have his sight it doesn’t mean he has to settle for being “background noise” or keep to himself as much as he does.

Sorry, kind of a long-winded tangent but something I thought worth making clear. I just really don’t want it to sound like the point of this was “Host can see, suddenly everything’s magically better for him!” or something like that. The Host’s reliance on his narration, for good and bad, is definitely something I want to explore more in the future.

Also, I have NO idea what a night out on the town for the Host and Wilford would look like.

Link to Part 3: “Just Like My Japanese Animes!”

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @cherrybomb-jaguar @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @purpstraw @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist ))

#markiplier #jacksepticeye #fanfic #wkm y/n #The Host #wkm mark #iplier egos #septic egos #birthday #beach episode #kinkiplier #one year anniversary #only for a day #the gift is less vision #and more perspective #always a price

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voidendron · 5 years

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The Outside: Chapter 50

Series Ask Blog: @asktheoutside Note: The cycle (Chase’s group, Jackie’s, Googles, Anti, etc before repeating) will be breaking soon. It’ll be pretty obvious when it does, and for go̷o̷d̴ r̴eas̴o͞n.

Chapter 50: In Color Chapter Warnings: None

Chapter under the cut

February 25, 2031, 4:30 PM Los Angeles, California

Oliver let out a pleased little trill as he held a pair of glasses up to the light. They had silver frames, almost oval in shape, though not quite rounded enough to be considered as such. The other pairs on the desk were two identical pairs with rectangular frames—one black, one silver—for Blue and Red, a black circular pair for Oliver, and wide black framed ones for Bing.

“Green,” he said, voice crackling as he shifted to English after hours of musing to himself in the androids’ language, “can I test these on you?”

As the youngest of the Upgrade trio saved the file he’d been working on before getting up, Oliver tucked his unruly hair behind his ears. Red had already threatened to cut it off if he couldn’t get it under control, but Oliver honestly liked it. It was a lot frizzier than he would have liked, which made it hard to keep controlled, but even Green had said it suited him. And as long as it didn’t distract him, Blue didn’t care how long it was, at least.

Green seated himself on the foot of one of the beds, directly across from Oliver in his desk chair, as the yellow Google leaned in to connect a cord to the back of the others neck; the other end in his own wrist. “I need to get into your optical systems,” he said.

A nod and affirmative chirp answered, and Oliver’s eyes shifted to white noise—blinding him to the room around him and replacing his sight with lines upon lines of code. He watched as that code shifted when Green lowered the firewalls to his CPU to allow access. Oliver brought one hand up to rest on the other’s neck to keep the cord from pulling, and then the two remained completely still. For the longest time the only change came from how the static in Oliver’s eyes shifted, or how Green’s kept flickering as their settings were adjusted.

Oliver let out a trill and accompanying chirp, which the other answered in kind with a very slight tilt of the head. Red and Blue would glance toward them on occasion when one of them spoke in the androids’ natural language, the various sounds coming from the back of their throats or high in their chests.

When Oliver finally pulled away, carefully disconnecting the cord from Green’s neck and then his own wrist, the other blinked a few times before tipping his head to one side per the yellow Upgrade’s request. He arched a brow, offering Oliver a side-glance when he made a small incision in the skin just above Green’s ear the moment his vision was fully returned.

Voice crackling as he shifted back to English, Oliver mumbled something to himself as he peeled the synthetic skin back before saying, “I’m setting up a trigger. This way our eyes will only appear human as long as we have the glasses on.”

“I thought you were crafting them specially and ‘it was difficult,’” Red asked. His mouth had twisted skeptically as he tapped the side of his laptop expectantly.

“Well, yeah. Uh…here.” Oliver reached for the pair he’d made for Red and passed them to oldest Upgrade before picking up the ones he’d set nearby for Green. “You see here,” he traced the curve at the temple, “if you put them on, this will press behind your ear kind of tightly. That’s where I’m putting the trigger. But if you do this,” he slid his fingers along the frames (thicker than their old pairs, but not quite as thick as the pair for Bing) until finding the not-quite-buttons along the top on both sides and sliding them toward the temples with his thumbs, “the temples loosen and our eyes will return to their regular settings.” He shrugged as if it were the most obvious answer. “It was just kind of hard because I didn’t really have the best tools to work with.” Oliver’s fingertips were far more sensitive than the other Googles’; to the point that the extremely thin but durable wires he’d used for allowing the temples to adjust would have very easily been out of the others’ sensory range.

The toe of Green’s shoe nudged Oliver’s shin, and he offered a pointed look. “If you could finish?” Through the little demonstration of the glasses, he’d sat quietly, head tilted and “skin” cut away just above his ear.

While Oliver was careful about setting the trigger point so he could eventually move to the other side to copy it above the other ear, he could still practically feel Red’s eyes boring into his back. “Will these settings have any effect on our vision?”

A hum answered, followed by a nod. “We’ll still see perfectly fine, but our color vision will probably be more limited like a human’s. I’ve got Green’s CPU coded a little differently now, so once I get the triggers placed they’ll turn off certain settings for his eyes.” He pressed the skin he’d peeled away back in place, then patted Green’s cheek so he would turn his head the opposite way. Oliver got to work copying the trigger to the other side without once glancing toward Red.

“Colors may seem less saturated, and far more limited. We should still see more colors than humans, just not nearly as many as we’re used to, and I don’t know how well we’ll see in the dark while the triggers are active.”

Oliver set his tool aside and resealed the skin, hiding the metal and new trigger beneath that was an exact copy as the one on the other side. “Look me in the eyes,” he ordered as he cupped his hands around Green’s face. He pressed his index fingers against the trigger points; watched as the other Upgrade flinched and his eyes flickered.

The white in the center of Green’s eyes fell dark first, black just like a pupil, their glow dying out soon after. A very soft whirring from them as the metal within adjusted, drew deeper into the eye so the silver could be pulled out of a human’s visibility. All of that was eventually followed by Green’s iris adjusting its color, falling a much darker shade of itself and honestly, it looked very much like a natural human color, if Oliver did say so himself. It all happened within seconds.

The yellow Google pulled his hands away so he could replace them with the glasses. The temples pressed right where they were supposed to, with Green’s now too-human eyes flicking about the room.

He…didn’t look impressed.

“It’s all extremely desaturated,” Green mumbled. He shook his head, rubbed at his eyes under the glasses as if it would help return his full field of vision.

All Oliver could offer was a shrug and raised eyebrow. “I…uh, did say that would probably happen?”

The look Green gave him was almost funny knowing his eyes would have flared with irritation, but that they couldn’t at that moment. “Lose the sarcasm. I know you did, but I still don’t like it.”

Blue stood, then; his steps soft over the carpeted floor as he approached and grasped Green’s chin to tip his head up. Oliver scooted his chair back, head tilting and hair falling free from where it was tucked behind one ear, as their leader inspected Green’s eyes. He offered a small nod.

“Very good, Oliver.”

The Upgrade beamed at the praise, yellow eyes literally brightening. That smile only widened when he caught the tiny smirk curling the edge of Blue’s lip as he turned away to return to his laptop.

“I’ll send you to Bingiplier’s residence tomorrow so you may add his trigger-points. For now, work on Red’s, and run me through the process while doing mine.”

There was a pause as Oliver’s smile fell away slightly. “Wait—why?” His smile returned, reassuring now, “I can do it just fine!”

When Red snorted, it was the only indication Oliver needed to rethink exactly what he’d just said.

“…Right. I uh…can’t really add my own, can I?”

#writersofmark #markiplier #fanfic #youtube #au #chapter 50 #the outside #googleplier #google blue #google oliver #google green #google red

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lilacnestor-blog · 6 years

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Christmas With the Egos

I’m sorry that I’m posting so late, but I’ve just spent the last two hours writing this and need to post it before I pass out. Thanks to @incorrect-ego-quotes for providing me with the Christmas post that inspired this. I’m sorry it’s a mess and kind of sad at the end? I have to get in a little bit of angst, but it gets happy with like the last sentence, so it’s okay.

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Ah, Christmas. The one time everybody actually gets along. Ever since the Egoiplier meeting a few weeks ago where they discussed having a Christmas party, and Darkiplier begrudgingly suggested Markiplier Manor as a spot to host it, everyone's been on board trying to get it set up. We take you now to that very house, Christmas Eve, at about seven pm. The Jacksepticegos arrived about an hour ago, and now, the party's in full swing.

Marvin the Magician has just conjured up a blanket of fake snow out in the yard and is building a snowman with Mark Bop, who's babbling in that strange language that only he can understand. I heard they're trying to teach the poor kid sign language, seeing as he either can't or refuses to learn English. Dapper Jack, who seems to have become fast friends with the babbling ego, perhaps over their shared speaking conditions, has noticed the snow and is making snow angels. Dapper Jack signs something to Mark Bop, and Mark Bop babbles for a minute before hesitantly signing something back, making both Marvin and Dapper Jack beam. I guess Marvin knows sign language as well. And now they're hugging. Could this get any closer to a Hallmark movie moment?

We now take you inside the house, where Wilford Warfstache, verifiable psychopath, has a captive audience of both Jims, not that I've ever seen one without the other, and is telling them stories about Krampus, who, according to him, is an old friend from college. Oh, the good old days of demon college? The whole thing makes no sense, especially since Wil isn't even a demon, or at least he wasn't the last time I checked, but he's succeeded in scaring the living daylights out of the naive Jims, who will probably now have nightmares about Krampus for the next week. Good going, Wilford.

Oh, finally, a responsible adult ego. Googleplier is in one of the manor's living rooms and is furiously wrapping presents, while a nervous-looking Silver Shepard brings him mug after mug of hot chocolate, which Google proceeds to chug before going back to wrapping. Though the hot chocolate could easily be coffee, from here it's hard to tell. Or maybe it's just spiked and Google just wants to get really, really drunk. Silver is getting more and more agitated as the mugs start to pile up, it's quite hilarious. Eventually, he just takes about eight used mugs in his arms and carefully carries them out to the kitchen, where he proceeds to wash them out and refill them with hot chocolate, bringing them back out one by one.

Also in the kitchen, Artiplier is baking tray after tray of Christmas cookies, cutting them into various shapes while a confused Rob Zombie watches on. Arty eventually gives Rob a finished, beautifully iced cookie, and the zombie takes a bite as if he's not sure what to expect. His eyes light up, and he mumbles something, to which Arty leads him over to the cookie cutters and guides him through the process. They complete the next batch together, and Rob even helps ice them, although he's not as good as Artiplier, of course, he still manages to get the job done. Arty smiles at him, and they start on the next batch. They're soon a well-oiled team, Rob cutting the cookies and putting them in the oven, and Arty icing them, intricate designs made from sprinkles and buttercream icing of every color of the rainbow decorating the freshly baked cookies.

Meanwhile, on the not-so-pure side of things, Antisepticeye has just spiked the eggnog by pouring an entire bottle of Jack Daniels into it. And yes, I see the pun there. But more on that later, I'm sure this situation will provide for an extraordinarily fun night.

We now momentarily take you outside of Markiplier Manor, to the local Target, where pandemonium has erupted, and, unsurprisingly, it appears to be Yandereplier's fault. Yandere has now threatened three shoppers with their katana, and Ed Edgar, who appears to have been sent to keep an eye on them, is desperately trying to defuse the situation. I never thought I'd see the day where Ed Edgar was the reasonable one in any situation, but here we are. The item that Yandereplier appears to be ready to kill for is... a Furby. Oh, god, it's a Furby. I would question why Yandereplier thinks that's a good last-minute Christmas present, but since when have they made any sense? Ed Edgar appears to now be giving the traumatized shoppers cash, throwing some at the register, and dragging Yandere and the Furby out of the store. Man, I didn't know they still even made Furbies. I thought they all died back in 2012. Ed Edgar now appears to be lecturing Yandere about how many people they just had to pay off and how much "profits" they lost. I don't think I even want to know what these profits are from. I'm just going to hope they're from Mark's YouTube channel. I still wonder who's going to open their present on Christmas day and receive a slightly bloody Furby.

In an office of the manor that seems familiar, but you can't place why, the Host is narrating himself while already planning out the New Years Eve party that will be held here in a few days time. I'm pretty sure he's been in here since before the Jacksepticegos arrived. He hasn't come out to enjoy the party at all, he's just been narrating various party supplies that write themselves down into a neat list on the desk, and making notes about possible bartenders and musicians to book, mumbling something about classical music being the only thing they play or so help him god. Suddenly, there is a knock at the door of the office, which startles the Host out of his rambling and he narrates the door to open, only to find Bim Trimmer standing there holding two mugs of what appears to be the spiked eggnog, although Bim certainly doesn't know that. What follows is a disgustingly adorable display of affection between the two of them as they socialize while drinking eggnog, and Bim tells the Host not to overwork himself and to come out and enjoy the party. Now I'm not sure if a ship between two egos of the same person is like incest or not, but I can definitely tell you, it looks like Bim has already had a few mugs of eggnog, and is slightly tipsy. You get the gist. Disgustingly adorable, like I said.

Back out in the living room, Bingiplier has apparently challenged Dr. Iplier to a drinking contest, having noticed the eggnog is spiked, and Dr. Iplier has declined because of alcohol intolerance, which is strange because shouldn't that also mean Bing can't drink? I'm not entirely sure how that works, but I can tell you that Bing is chugging eggnog like his life depends on it. And now Bing is running to the bathroom, about to puke, and Dr. Iplier is reluctantly following him, saying something about how he knew this would happen. Bing is now throwing up spiked eggnog and Dr. Iplier is offering mostly unhelpful advice. See, I knew this would turn out hilarious.

The other doctor, Dr. Schneeplestein, is in the living room where Bing just chugged eggnog, and after being slightly amused at that situation, has gone back to reading some large, medical-looking book. He appears to be sulking and every so often mumbles something about this whole thing being stupid, Christmas being useless, or him being dragged to this party. Jackieboyman now appears to be approaching him. Let's get a look at this juicy dialogue. "Henrik, why are you pouting?"

"I'm not pouting, Jackie, I'm sulking. There's a difference."

"It's Christmas, Henrik, the least you can do is have a little fun."

"I can't have fun, I'm allergic to it."

"Cut the sarcasm, Henrik, what's wrong? I haven't seen you this down since you played that surgeon simulator game on the computer and you lost your patient."

"Jackie, don't remind me of that. It's just, I don't understand the point of Christmas. I mean, none of us are very religious, so why celebrate it? It's just an excuse to tell people to buy you stuff that you could've just bought yourself."

"Henrik, you don't understand. It's not about the gifts. It's not even about the religious part of it, or at least it isn't for us. It's about all of us being together, telling Christmas stories we've all heard ten thousand times and having fun. Christmas is about family. It's about having fun with people you care about."

"That's nice and all, Jackie, but it's not like that for me. There's no Christmas magic. There's no believing in Santa Claus, and there never was. There were no Christmas stories, I don't even know if I can name more than five Christmas songs. This is just such a new thing for me. I know most of the other septic egos understand Christmas, maybe not Robbie, but we can't blame him for that, but I just don't have that. I've never really celebrated it, not in the life fabricated for me when I became an ego. The Schneeplestein family, though they don't exist, never celebrated Christmas, so I don't have any memories, even fictional ones, of it."

"Henrik, why didn't you just tell me? Are you Jewish, should we find a menorah?"

"No, no, I'm not Jewish, it's just I never celebrated it, so I don't understand it."

"Well, I'm going to help you to understand. I'm going to tell you all of the Christmas stories I know, and we can learn all of the Christmas songs, and by the time it's midnight, you will have understood the true meaning of Christmas. But only if you want to, of course."

"Sure, Jackie. I'll learn what Christmas means. It sure beats reading this, anyway."

Aww, look at them, cute and pure and all hung-up on Christmas. I'm pretty sure I've already said this, but it's like something out of a Hallmark movie. Jackieboyman is going to teach Dr. Schneeplestein the true meaning of Christmas, and I'm sure they'll fucking kiss under the mistletoe at midnight, too, because all of this is just too perfect. Look, let's just... find someone else to focus on.

Ahh, there's King of the Squirrels, sitting by the fireplace. He's in a room all to himself, but the fireplace is lit. Perhaps one of the egos magically lit every fireplace in the house when they first got here. King appears to be writing something on a piece of paper, his handwriting messy, like a child's. Chase Brody enters the room and flops onto an armchair, lightly dusted with snow, to which I realize that yes, it has been snowing for a while. Not sure if it's somebody's magic, seeing as a good half of them are reality benders, and there is one genuine magician, or mother nature just adding to the show. When King notices Chase in the room, he keeps writing for a minute, before getting up and bringing his paper over to Chase.

"Is this... good? Did I get everyone? I know not all of them wrote letters, so I included them in mine."

King hands his paper to Chase, who reads it aloud.

"Dear Santa, This year, what I want is for everyone to be happy. I want my squirrel subjects to get all of the food they need. I want Mark Bop to learn how to sign. I want the Jims to take a big case. I want Arty to make a really good painting that he likes. I want Ed Edgar to not have to worry about his profits. I want Dr. Iplier to be able to say people are going to make it instead of telling everyone they're dying. I want Silver Shepard to save the world, and get all of the recognition he deserves. I want Bim to be happy instead of anxious all the time from working for Wil. I want Wilford to produce a sequel to Markiplier TV and have tons of fun working on it. I want the Host to be able to see but still retain his powers because they're awesome. I want Google to be able to feel emotions better because he's not good at that. I want Yandere to finally be happy with their senpai. I want Dark to be able to take over the channel and express emotions that aren't anger. And I want all of the other egos that are visiting to be happy, too, even if I don't know what they want. And for me, all I want is a tree house in that big tree in the courtyard of the Egoplier building, so I can sleep there more comfortably. I hope you get this, KING"

"So is it good?"

"It's beautiful, King. You know, you remind me of my kids. You just want everybody to get along. I think you should definitely send this, I'll even help you mail it."

And now they're hugging. It's stupid that everything has to end up so happy. They're all perfectly fine without me being here, I'm not even sure why I showed up. I'm just the narrator of a fluffy Christmas story, after all. Just here to provide witty commentary. Just here to sit on the roof, in the snow, and look down, sensing everyone below me, having fun. Thank god my powers come in handy, somehow, right?

But, strangely, I sense someone coming up the stairs to the roof. Who else would want to remove themselves from the party when all the fun is down there? It's probably a Septic Ego, coming to tell me that I need to "believe in the spirit of Christmas" because all of the septic egos are all so nice and pure. Even their demon doesn't do anything more than cause a little mayhem now and again. But the door opens, and it's the one person I haven't heard from all night.

"Hello there, Dark," I say to the suit-clad figure standing on the roof.

"Nice to see you, it's been a while. I guess you're not much of a party-goer too, huh?"

"Not exactly. It's not like any of them noticed I showed up. Half of them probably aren't even aware of my existence. They're all caught up in their own worlds, writing letters to Santa, baking cookies, and figuring out the true meaning of Christmas. There's even some stupid fucking romantic action down there, it's like a Hallmark Christmas movie."

"Spying on the egos, now are we? And don't tell me Bim and the Host already hooked up and I missed it, I've been waiting for that all night. I knew it was going to happen as soon as Anti spiked the punch. Bim's such a lightweight, I knew it wouldn't be long before he was spilling his feelings."

"You knew about that? And it wasn't weird? It's not weird that two egos from the same person are hooking up? That's not like incest or anything?"

"Oh, no, not at all. I'm sure you heard Dr. Schneeplestein's whole conversation about fictionalized past lives. Well, we all technically have families. They just don't exist. They only exist in our minds, and only started existing there when we came into existence. None of us are related, except the Jim twins, so it's completely fine."

"Okay, that makes more sense. You know that I just don't understand those things."

"It's completely normal for us, but I do understand how it could be weird for you. You really should rejoin the party. You say people don't acknowledge your presence, but that's because you don't let them. Come down, have some fun."

"You know what, I think I will. You can go back down, I'll be there in a minute."

"Alright, see you in a few, BlankGamePlays."

"I've told you so many times, just call me Blank."

"Fine, fine, but you better get down here before Wil and Anti have a drinking contest. It's going to happen in a few minutes and it's going to be great."

"Okay, I'm coming."

And with that, I stopped being the narrator in other people's lives and started being one of my own. I rejoined the party. I had fun. I laughed when Anti puked on the carpet. I didn't even cringe when I saw Dr. Schneeplestein and Jackieboyman share a small kiss under the mistletoe at midnight. I actually gave them a thumbs up. I had a good Christmas.

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awesomemarkiplieregoimagine · 7 years

Text

The Ego secret 2

Ok so this is another story about Dark and Bim being the same ego. It's similar Only this time Wilford knows and the other egos don't know Dark's secret. This was a lovely request! Thank you for suggesting it! 😃 @loki-isnt-so-lucky

Bim was pacing around the house. There was a meeting for him to host. He was stressed because this was his first Bim meeting. Bim never held a meeting, usually Dark did but this time it was Bim.

"What if they find out Will!" Bim said rubbing his forehead and taking some aspirin.

"Don't worry, you got this~!" Wilford said with a bright grin.

Bim sighed. "You sure it will go out smooth? If you try to flirt with me the egos will freak out and say you're cheating!" Bim said walking up to Wilford.

"I guarantee you'll be fine! And I'll remember to keep my mouth shut. I'll pretend we're just friends." Wilford said straightening Bim's tie.

"I'll do my best Will, I'll do my best." Bim said looking into Wilford's sparkling eyes.

"You're so cute when your not emo" Wilford said leaning in to kiss Bim.

"I guess you could say that." Bim's face was inches away from Will's. They were just about to share a passionate kiss, only Bing walked into the room.

"Ohhhhhh did I interrupt." Bing looked at the two bright red egos.

"Oh um-we uh- You-uh-we were just-" Wilford was struggling to get an excuse out. Luckily Bim helped him out.

"He was just checking my face to make sure I didn't have any chocolate on it-!" Bim said rubbing his face all over.

"No, you didn't eat chocolate today?" Wilford Whispered under his breathe. Bim jabbed Wilford's side.

"YEP, HE ATE SOME ALL RIGHT!" Wilford screeched in a cracky voice.

"IS MY FACE CLEAN WILLFORD???" Bim said nervously. Bing just stood there in confusion. All he wanted was to tell Bim his meeting was ready.

"YEPTY YEP! YOU'RE GOOD." Wilford yelled back. Bing backed away slowly.

"Okay whatever you say my dudes." Bing ran out the door and rode his skateboard down the hallway.

"See Wilford! Stuff like that could ruin everything!?" Bim said very angrily grabbing a clipboard.

"You were just as much as in the moment as I was! So you have yourself to blame too! And how was I supposed to know Bing would walk in on us!?" Wilford scowled. This didn't feel fair to him. Somebody should be able to kiss their lover when ever they wanted to.

"I guess you're right. I really am the same person, and you're right about the moment too. I was just as caught up as you were." Bim sighed. He hated when Wilford was right. Bim was right too though. One move can blow everything.

*Time skip*

Bim's palms were sweaty. His body had butterflies from anxiety. He couldn't think straight. How was he gonna pull this off? This should be easy. Dark hosts meetings all the time. Really it's a piece of cake. Bim thought to himself. All the egos were sitting down at the long table. Host was in the very back. Dr.iplier to Host's right. Bingiplier to Host's left. Wilford was closest to Bim at the front. The egos started discussing stuff with each other.

"Hello, everyone this is Dark here-I MEAN Bim, and today's meeting is about vacations." Bim noticed he called himself Dark and mentally face palmed. Some of the egos were whispering "whaaat?" "That's Dark not Bim?" "Did he forget his lines?" The egos paid attention to Bim again.

"Sooo, I think we should go on a cruise! What better way to escape from the cold winter than to go on a cruise in the Bahamas-!" Bim said with a little more confidence. Wilford couldn't be more happy. That was his boyfriend! hosting a meeting! And having the guts to host it! Wilford wanted to hug Bim so bad, but he had to remember he was Bim right now. Not Darkiplier. The other egos liked the cruise idea.

"I like it guys! Let's do it!" Dr.iplier shouted out.

"I agree we need this dudes." Bing said.

"I'm in." Ed edgar said. Bim was so happy. At first he thought he couldn't host a meeting but now everything is working out. He knew Wilford would like the cruise idea as well. All the other egos agreed except The Host. He kept quiet during this whole debate.

"I like the cruise idea too." Host said in a happy but calm voice. All the egos were talking about the fun stuff they'd do on the cruise. Wilford ran up to Bim.

"YOU DID IT BABY I'M SO PROUD OF YOU~!"

Wilford yelled pulling Bim closer and kissing him. The room went dead. Everyone stood there in shock. "Er-He-" Bim tried to say something but it was too late. The egos just witnessed Wilford kiss Bim. Bim turned a dark red. The other egos started whispering to each other. Some egos were disgusted others confused. Wilford felt attacked.

"I-I- DIDN'T MEAN TO! I-I IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!" Wilford yelled out. He was trying not to cry. He just realized what he just did.

"CHEATER YOU CHEATER!" Blue Google screamed at Wilford. All the egos were staring at Wilford now.

"WHERE'S DARK?" Dr.iplier yelled. Wilford looked at all the glaring eyes

"I-I-I Dark's-!" Wilford backed away from them. Host just sat in his seat. He knew the real reason they kissed. Host could read minds.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WILFORD! I'M TELLING DARK! CHEATER!" Yellow Google screamed holding up a phone and motioning towards it.

"I don't understand? Don't you love your Senpie Dark??" Yander was less harsh but his words still attacked Wilford. The yelling an arguing got so bad that Wilford started crying. Host stood up off his seat. Everything went quiet again. "Look." Host said pointing to Bim. Bim was just standing there red in the face. Bim looked at all the eyes staring at him. His chest ached from stress. His vision was getting blurry. Everything around him was getting fuzzy. Bim felt himself fall to the ground and hit the rock hard floor. Bim's eyes were squinted everything was in slo-mo now. He saw Wilford run up to him and shake him trying to make him stand up. Bim also saw Dr.iplier rush over to him with medical gear. Bim noticed they were having a conversation but he couldn't make out the words. The last thing Bim saw before blacking out was Wilford's teary red face. His face said it all. Bim could tell Wilford was sorry.

*Time skip to hospital*

Wilford sat in a waiting room chair staring at the ground. All the overwhelming questions played over and over in his head. He felt horrible. His job wasn't that hard. All he had to do was keep his mouth shut, but he blew it. Now Bim's in the hospital all because of him. Wilford looked over, across was the other egos. They were whispering nasty rumors about Wilford.

"Did you hear he cheated on Dark!" Google whispered to King of the squirrels.

"Yea all he did was sleep with Dark! Now he's looking for another man cheat on!" Yander said. Wilford was fuming in his seat. These were lies! Stupid bullsh*t lies!

"I caught Wilford cheating in Bim's office!" Bing added to the rumors. Host just sat in his seat. He had a plan. Wilford wanted to scream the truth. He wanted to prove the other egos wrong and tell them why he kissed Bim.

"I bet Wilford doesn't even love Dark at all!" Ed said.

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE F-" Wilford was cut off by a nurse walking into the waiting room.

"Ok your friend. Uh. Bim Trimmer will be fine he can go home now. He fainted that's all." The nurse said with a smile.

"Shut up nurse!" Wilford muttered under his breathe.

*Time skip back to ego mansion*

It's was 3 weeks since the whole Wilford cheated on Dark thing. Dark was still on "vacation". Not really though because Bim and Dark are the same ego. Today was another meeting for Bim to host. This time Wilford wasn't invited to the meeting. The other egos still weren't fond of what happened 3 weeks ago. The cruise was in 3 days. There was to be one last meeting before the cruise. Bim stood up in front of all the egos.

"I-I have a confession to make." Bim said. He was gonna tell a lie about the whole Wilford situation.

"So the reason why Wilford and I kissed was because-" Bim was cut off by The Host.

"Stop. Whatever Bim's saying don't believe it. I know why they kissed." The Host said walking up to Bim. Bim said nothing and decided what Host says is what Host says. Host coughed

"Ok, So Bim isn't a real person. Dark and Bim are the same ego. So Wilford never cheated. He just couldn't help it and kissed Bim because he was really Dark." Host cleared his throat and sat down again. Bim was in shock. The egos said nothing. The other egos felt bad for all the stupid rumors they started.

"It's true I'm really Dark. Please call me Dark." Bim said blushing a little. It actually was a relief the truth got out.

"I-I'm so sorry Dark. I didn't mean what I said about you and Wilford." Blue Google said.

"Me-me too pal, I had no idea. I should be ashamed of myself." Ed said.

"We're all so sorry Dark. We shouldn't have jumped to conclusion." Yander replied.

"It's okay guys. It was right of you to get upset if I was a different person. Wilford kissing me would be kinda messed up if I wasn't Dark." Dark said feeling so much better. Wilford over heard everything. He walked in the room hugging Dark. Dark blushed, he didn't see the hug coming. The egos ran up to Wilford apologizing big time.

"No need guys, Hearing you apologizing to Dark was enough for me." Wilford beamed still hugging Dark. Dark turned around and pecked a kiss on Wilford. "Awwwww." was all the egos said.

"Oh, and for punishment for making those nasty rumors I think just Wilford and Dark deserve the cruise. The rest of you will stay here." Host said walking out the door. The other egos nodded. They wanted to go but they thought it would be a good idea for Dark and Wilford to get some alone time. Dark did kinda loose his emo too. He needed to be himself again. All the other egos left except Dark and Wilford.

"We got the cruise to ourselves Hehheheheh." Wilford said and winked at Dark. Dark blushed but pulled Wilford in to kiss him. Dark gave Wilford a breathless kiss. Wilford almost fell over. Only they both looked up to see Dr.iplier holding mistletoe over them.

"I had to I'm sorry." Dr.iplier burst out laughing. Dark and Wilford laughed too.

"What are we waiting for Wilford! Lets go!" Dark said and smiled as they left arm in arm to go pack. The end

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I hope you liked that! 😄 it was neat to write. I really liked the idea if Wilford knowing all ready. Well anyway I hope you have a lovely day/night!

#markiplier ego fanfic #markiplier ego x reader #markiplier egos #markiplier #Darkstache kind of #Wilford x Bim/Dark

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