#murderiplier fanfiction

[fenneciplier]

Ahh, my second favorite ego with a knife <3

guess who the first is

REQUESTED BY: It’s complicated, technically all the people who voted him in the poll, and me. WARNINGS: Mention of murder, torture, & some foul language.

🔪 Murdock / Murderiplier x Reader dating/romantic headcanons: 🔪

🔪 Calls you a bunch of endearing things: Dearest, Darling, Honeypie, Starlight, Dove, My Valentine, Beloved, etc…

🔪 If you have any suggestions, just say something, he’ll gladly call you whatever you’d like.

🔪 Is very open about his “hobby” of tickling others with various sharp objects. He will casually talk about it during dinner, in the middle of a movie, before bed, etc.

🔪 Although if you’re uncomfortable with the topic of murder, he will try to refrain himself. He might slip up every now and then but he eventually catches himself.

🔪 He’ll make jokes while murdering someone, handle their organs almost comically, even talk to the people as if he isn’t actively sawing their fingers off and tossing them over his shoulder.

🔪 He’s still a dork, just in a deadpan and flat kinda way. 

🔪 He’s an intelligent fellow when it comes to ways to murder people and how the human body responds to pain, but when it comes to basic knowledge he’s just a dumbass.

🔪 He’ll go from “Did you know the last sense to go when you die is your hearing?” to “What do you mean the sun doesn’t revolve around the earth?”

🔪 The way he handles you is firm but gentle, like he doesn’t want to let you go but also believes you’re made of glass.

🔪 Cuddling is no exception. He has his arms wrapped around you tightly, and one hand cradling the back of your head, smushing your face into his chest.

🔪 Don’t tell him about anyone that gives you bullshit, even the slightest inconveniences. Your boss yelled at you? The barista tried correcting you on how to pronounce your own name? The mailman wasn’t very gentle with a fragile package? All of them gonna die.

🔪 “Dear, don’t worry your pretty little head about them. They won’t bother you anymore.”

🔪 Not exactly a yandere, but also he is at the same time..? It’s complicated.

🔪 It’s in a way that this man will gladly murder someone for you, but not out of jealousy or the “no one else can have you” thing.

🔪 “It’s supposed to be fun, exciting, entertaining, Y’know. I can’t let my anger or any of the other bullshit get in the way of my own enjoyment.”

🔪 He sometimes preforms some of these “sessions” in the basement. And if you walk down there to bring him a snack whilst he’s in the middle of dissecting a very much alive man, his heart is yours.

🔪 Straight up turns into a dog. He’ll be forever loyal, if he wasn’t already.

[bookwormscififan]

I (Don't) Wanna Be Free

Read on AO3!

A/N: Was there ever a time before we met him that Yancy wanted to be free? Mayhaps it involved a certain murder man?

--

Dear Y/N,

Have I ever told youse why I didn’t want to be free?

Not the musical, not the song and dance, not the dumb things I said to youse when we first met.

Did I ever tell youse the real reason I didn’t want to be free?

Well, it all started when I first got a new cellmate…

“Hey, Ohio! You’ve got a cellmate,” Murder-Slaughter called, opening the door to Yancy’s cell and ushering someone inside. The prisoner looked up from his book, sizing up the newcomer with a bored gaze.

“My bed’s top bunk,” was all he said that day, watching the new man settle in silently.

“Are you not even going to ask what I did to get in here?”

It had been a week since Yancy had received his new cellmate, who had been respectfully quiet until that moment. Yancy held back an eyeroll, putting his notebook down and leaning his forearm on it.

“Let me guess. Youse murdered someone.” He didn’t suppress his grin at the newcomer’s shocked expression, “They usually try to lump a murderer in my cell with me. Because I killed some people too.”

“I’m Murdock,” the man stated, offering a hand after he’d recovered from his shock. Yancy snorted, taking Murdock’s hand and shaking it firmly.

“I know. And youse know my name too. Yancy.”

“So…” Murdock trailed one night, lying in his bunk, staring at Yancy’s mattress above him and waiting for his cellmate to sigh before continuing, “Who did you kill?”

“My parents. Youse?” Murdock closed his eyes, wishing he had his trademark gloves or glasses to cover his face.

“Many, many people.” He rolled onto his side, yearning for the feeling of his knife in his hand again, listening to Yancy shuffling around above him before falling asleep.

“Hey, Murdock, youse wanna break out with me?” The mass murder frowned into his bowl of slop, looking at Yancy as the musician sat opposite him at the cafeteria table.

“Why would anyone wanna break out?” He mumbled, shovelling another spoonful into his mouth. He paused when Yancy slid an item across the table to him: a pair of black leather gloves, creases showing signs of wear, with a familiar black ‘M’ embossed into the bottom edge.

“Where did you find these?” Murdock whispered, slowly reaching for the gloves as if afraid to touch them, afraid they would disappear.

“I know a lot of secret passages in this place.” There was no denying the smug tone in Yancy’s voice, and Murdock snatched the gloves off the table before he could think twice.

“And if I do agree to break out with you,” he began, voice low, “What’s in it for me?” Yancy grinned, leaning forward on the table and pushing Murdock’s bowl away from him.

“I’ll make sure youse never get caught again.”

It didn’t take long for Murdock to figure out his own escape route. It took even less time for him to devise an escape plan that didn’t involve Yancy, and no time at all for him to execute the plan.

Yancy woke up to find the bunk under him empty. While not an unusual occurrence, this time Yancy had woken earlier than usual, expecting to wake Murdock and drag him out himself.

Instead he found a crumpled piece of paper sitting atop Murdock’s pillow.

Will come back for you.

Yancy held onto that written promise like a lifeline.

He never came back, Y/N.

Never wrote.

Never called.

Disappeared, just like that.

All of my being was waiting for him to come back and get me out of Happy Trails, but he never came back.

It took a lot of time and effort, but eventually I got back on my feet and decided the penitentiary was the place for me. It was better to be somewhere that wanted me, than to be waiting on someone who wasn’t showing.

What’s that song from that band? How’s it go? “Waiting on a train that’ll never come”? That was me and Murdock.

If and when I ever find him again, I’m going to show him what he did.

My review’s coming up soon.

We’ll see if I get parole.

Yancy.

[fdq666roadie-blog]

Murdock has snuck back into prison to spend some quality time with his good old friend, Yancy.

[romanticallyghosting]

Any murdery ego with killer reader? An they kill peeps together sometimes. But then just cuddle sometimes.

"We're always running, question is from what?"

tysm for the ask luv/p

Another day, another successful kill.

You were currently resting on your and Murdock's shared bed. Usually, people resting in beds were asleep.

You were not.

Your brain instead was racing with thoughts. It was quite hard to make them out as they whizzed around in your head. something along the lines of cops and running and why swirled around reaching the deepest crevices of your thoughts before you heard a noise coming from behind you, effectively snapping you out of your trance.

Murdock stepped through the doorway, softly humming along to a joyful tune only he could hear. after a few moments, he noticed you curled up on the bed wide awake.

"Are you alright, Sweetheart?" he asked. He sounded almost, concerned? It was an odd but welcome change to his usual dark and murderous personality.

"Want cuddles." you muttered back in response without even turning to face him. There was the sound of footsteps behind you, before the bed dipped down and you felt two big arms wrap around you.

It's as if he knew what you were thinking about before he came in, because he whispered into your ear "it's alright darling. We'll be safe here There is nothing you need worry about."

You fell asleep that night to Murdock whispering softly into your ear and lightly kissing your neck.

[bookwormscififan]

Morning Brings You... In My Shirt

Read on AO3!

A/N: When Yancy wakes up to an empty bed and can't find his shirt, he decides to use the only thing he can find: Murdock's shirt from the night before. This was inspired by a conversation I had with @iamvegorott in regards to their most recent chapter of 'Meeting A Magical Man', so I decided to write a little 'morning after' thing with Yancy and Murdock.

Yancy groaned as he woke up, arm sliding across the bedsheet and grasping at the empty space beside him. He frowned, rolling over to look at the empty pillow, brows furrowing as he moved to press his nose into the blankets on that side of the bed, breathing in the smell of his lover.

The smell of wool and leather, combined with the sharp cinnamon in his shampoo and a few other scents calmed the prisoner, closing his eyes once more and curling into the blanket gripped in his hand. He was about to go back to sleep when the sounds of whistling and clanging dishware brought him back to his wakened state.

Yancy’s shirt and pants had gone missing, possibly tossed somewhere outside the room during their activities. The prisoner sighed as he looked around the room, raising a brow as his gaze fell to the maroon dress shirt Murdock had worn the night before. With a smirk, he strolled over to the shirt puddled on the ground at the foot of the bed.

Murdock whistled to himself as he made breakfast, loose t-shirt haphazardly thrown over his form, dark glasses abandoned on the kitchen counter and hair falling into his eyes. His gaze drifted from the food being prepared to the faint red lines on his wrists, bringing a smile to his face that only widened when he heard Yancy walk in.

He raised his head, opening his mouth to greet the prisoner when he registered what Yancy was wearing, jaw snapping closed and eyes widening, almost dropping the pan he was holding as his body went weak.

“I seem to have lost my shirt last night,” Yancy grumbled, not looking at Murdock yet as he stood in the kitchen doorway. “Must have dropped it on our way to the room.” He looked up, frowning when he saw Murdock’s expression, then looked down at himself, blush slowly rising to his cheeks.

Yancy was in Murdock’s dress shirt, a little too large on his frame, buttons untidily done, sleeves falling over his hands to his knuckles. The top three buttons were undone, leaving the shirt to open slightly, one side sliding down his shoulder to reveal the numerous purple marks spanning his collarbones and shoulder.

The prisoner cleared his throat, smirking when Murdock’s eyes met his, and he leaned forward across the kitchen counter before grabbing Murdock’s glasses and planting them on his own face, peering at his lover through the dark lenses.

“How do youse see through these?” He asked, tilting his head and scrunching his nose as he tried to look at Murdock. “I can barely see youse.”

“Then take them off,” Murdock stated, voice low as he reached forward to slowly remove the glasses from Yancy’s face, setting them aside before snaking his hand to caress the back of Yancy’s neck. “I’d rather see your eyes.”

Yancy closed his eyes as Murdock closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together in a deep kiss that took his breath away. The prisoner hummed as Murdock gripped his shoulders to pull him across the kitchen counter, holding him close while still locked in a kiss. “Youse have to let me breathe,” Yancy panted, pulling away, “And feed me, too. I have to be back at the penitentiary before midday.” He chuckled when Murdock growled, pulling him closer for a chaste kiss before gently nudging him away to continue making breakfast.

-----

@brokentimewatch

[bookwormscififan]

By Your Hands, The Ashes Fly Away

It was getting harder to suppress the urges.

Murdock stared at Yancy’s tanned skin, dotted here and there with ink marks drawing symbols for him.

The knife sat cold and heavy in his coat pocket, hands itching to hold its handle as his heart hammered.

Could he? Would he?

Yancy had no idea why Murdock suddenly didn’t want to sit beside him. The killer had taken him out for a nice night, feeding him and making him a fire, but now he was barely touching him.

The prisoner bit his lip as he glanced at Murdock, expression unreadable behind the dark glasses he always wore.

“What’s going on?” He ventured to ask, dusting off his shirt and fixing the laces on his shoes, listening to Murdock’s breathing stutter.

“What do you mean?” The killer asked, fiddling with the button on his glove in a sorry attempt to seem casual.

“Youse are hardly speaking to me suddenly,” Yancy blurted, inwardly cursing himself for the tears burning in the back of his eyes. “Why take me out for a nice night then completely avoid me?” He dropped his gaze to the ground, hugging himself with one arm as his mind swirled with thoughts.

“I thought we had something, Murdock.” His voice was soft, pained, and his eyes were windows to the brokenness inside when he looked up at the serial killer.

Murdock clenched his fist, bringing it up to his mouth to sink his teeth into his gloved knuckle, then dropped his hand as he let out a frustrated breath.

Yancy gasped as he was suddenly embraced tightly, feeling Murdock’s heart beating against his chest, and the prisoner hesitated a moment before returning the embrace, albeit confused.

“I’m sorry, Yancy,” was Murdock… crying? “I can’t do this.” Yancy felt the dampness of Murdock’s tears against his shoulder, and he slowly pulled away, holding Murdock’s shoulders to look into his face.

“What are you saying?” His breath hitched as his heart leapt, trying in vain to see Murdock’s eyes through the black void of his glasses.

“You once asked me why I’m always alone,” Murdock began softly, averting his gaze each time Yancy tried to meet it. “And I let you get close to me because I wanted company.”

Yancy gasped as he felt a searing pain shoot through his stomach, hands dropping from Murdock’s shoulders to the handle of the blade stuck in his gut.

“I chose to be alone, love,” Murdock’s voice was broken as he let go of his knife, supporting Yancy as the prisoner fell to his knees. “I can’t understand my feelings, when I get overwhelmed they just default to a need to destroy the thing giving me feelings.”

Yancy stared at Murdock, tears streaming down his face as he struggled to breathe, lifting one hand to caress Murdock’s cheek, smearing crimson liquid across the skin.

“The tragedy… of our… being…” the prisoner gasped, tapping his thumb against Murdock’s cheek fondly as the light began to fade from his eyes.

Murdock leaned forward, pressing his lips to Yancy’s in a tearful kiss, pouring all the confusing emotions into the touch, and sighed when Yancy’s hand dropped from his cheek, signalling his departure.

The serial killer sat in the ground for hours, cradling the body of the man he loved, the man he had killed with his own weapon.

[bookwormscififan]

Under the Stars, By the Firelight

“What are we doing?” Yancy asked, stomping his feet as he watched Murdock light a fire.

“It’s getting dark,” Murdock replied slowly, blowing the embers gently to stoke the fire. “You need to rest.”

Yancy frowned, but sat by the fire anyway, peering at Murdock through narrowed eyes.

The killer moved to sit beside Yancy, handing him an item wrapped in a dark handkerchief, nodding when the prisoner looked inquisitively at the item.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, unwrapping the item and taking a bite from the sandwich he found within. He stiffened when Murdock moved closer, looking at him suspiciously as he finished the meal.

“Look at the sky, Yancy,” he murmured, hand coming to rest around the prisoner’s waist as Yancy looked up.

“It’s beautiful,” Yancy breathed, leaning into Murdock’s touch as his eyelids grew heavy. Murdock chuckled beside him, embrace tightening as he pulled Yancy closer.

“Not as beautiful as you, my dear.” He smiled when Yancy looked up at him, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Yancy’s downturned lips before returning his gaze to the night sky.

“Is this why youse brought me here?” Yancy grumbled softly, staring into the fire. “To fluster me?”

“I brought you here to give you a break from the penitentiary,” Murdock replied softly, brushing his thumb along Yancy’s side. “Flustering you is a bonus,” he added with a smirk, huffing when Yancy nudged him.

Maybe there was a deeper reason to bringing Yancy out here. Maybe Murdock always had a reason.

For now, though, he was content to let Yancy relax.

[bookwormscififan]

Beneath the Rain, By the Dying Embers

Yancy sat by the dying embers of the fire, turning his face toward the sky and embracing the soft droplets of rain falling on his skin.

It had been so long since he’d felt rain on his face, eyes closed against the cool water splashing against his eyelids.

His lips curled into a small smile when a warm coat was draped over his shoulders, leaning into the touch of the man who moved to sit beside him, resting his head on his shoulder as he pulled the coat tighter around him.

“What are you thinking about, dear?” Murdock’s voice was low, a warm rumble in his chest as he draped an arm around Yancy’s shoulders. The prisoner sighed, free hand moving to rest on Murdock’s thigh.

“The rain feels so nice,” Yancy murmured, turning his face into the crook of Murdock’s neck, breathing deeply. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Murdock hummed, gently rubbing his thumb across Yancy’s shoulder as he looked at the grey clouds above them.

“Anything for you, dear.” He smiled when he heard Yancy’s soft breathing, holding him closer as the prisoner slept.

The serial killer basked in the intimacy of the moment, ignoring for a brief time the knowledge he’d have to send Yancy back to the penitentiary soon.

There was only so many times that the prisoner could break out before it got suspicious.

[fdq666roadie-blog]

Prompt: Noncon Relationships: Murderplier/Gender Neutral Reader Characters: Murderplier Tags: Noncon, Forced Sex, Knife Play, Restraints, Clothed Sex, Creampie TW: Noncon This fic was written for a prompt and is purely for entertainment purposes. I do not support or condone this IRL in any way shape or form!

[bookwormscififan]

The Tragedy of Being Masterlist

Just a list for the little three part Yancy x Murdock fic I wrote today.

Synopsis being that Murdock took Yancy for a nice night.

Under the Stars, By the Firelight

Beneath the Rain, By the Dying Embers

By Your Hand, The Ashes Fly Away

———

@brokentimewatch

[fdq666roadie-blog]

Prompt: Fucking Machine (free day) Relationships: Eric Derekson/Murdock Characters: Eric Derekson and Murdock Tags: Fucking Machines, Overstimulation, Hand Jobs, Forced Orgasm, Restraints, Multiple Orgasms

This is the final Kinktober fic. I hope you guys had as much fun reading them as I did writing them. I'll definitely do it again next year, just might start earlier to make it less stressful.

Thank you so much to each and every one of you for all the love and support throughout this event. You're the reason why I keep writing <3

[fdq666roadie-blog]

Prompt: Hate Sex Relationships: Murderplier/Wilford Warfstache Characters: Murderplier and Wilford Warfstache Tags: Hate Sex, Anal Sex, Rough Sex, Blood As Lube, Anal Creampie TW: Blood, Mild Gore This particular fic was inspired by Stardust Marki and their Let's Get Bloody fic (tw: gore and sex)

[fdq666roadie-blog]

Thinking about a fic idea with Murdoch. But every fic I’ve seen with him has him being the dom. What about a sub Murdoch? Like, he deliberately offers himself to y/n, allowing them to do whatever they please, since he’s obviously at least a little masochististic >:D