#illinois x gender neutral!reader

[leighsartworks216]

Hyperfixations

Illinois x autistic!gn!reader x Yancy

Requested by Anon:

“could we have more illinois x reader x yancy?? just some soft cuddling and kisses in bed maybe”

Requested by Anon:

“i LOVED your dark with implied autistic reader, there isn’t many fics that include us like that ❤️ would you be willing to do something similar with illinois or yancy?”

I went ahead and combined these two requests bc I thought they worked together! Realizing now that I didn’t add any kisses sorry 💀

Warnings: very fluffy, slight swearing??, lots of cuddling tho

Word Count: 620

Masterlist

Tag List Form

Why were you still scrolling? It was almost 3am, for one thing. Your partners were asleep, snoring away on either side of you, and yet, there you were, continuing to go through the same tags you went through a thousand times before. The same art, shitposts, and fics popped up. And you’d seen them all, no matter how you sorted the feed. But you needed more. You needed new art, new shitposts, new fics.

Despite the mounting frustration and boredom, you kept scrolling and scrolling and scrolling.

An arm wound around your midsection, startling you out of your focus. Yancy peeked at you through half-lidded, drowsy eyes. He was always a light sleeper.

“What’re youse doin’ up?” His words slurred a little, accent seeming unfamiliar to him at this hour. “Somethin’ wrong?”

You shook your head and turned off your phone, allowing the device to rest on your chest. “No, I just…” Yancy waited patiently as you found the right words. “I’m hyperfixating on something right now, and nothing seems to really… satisfy it.”

He hummed. The bed shifted as he scooted closer, nuzzling his face against the pajamas you wore. He didn’t want to trigger you with the feeling of his stubble, especially not when you’d apparently been awake all night.

“Youse wanna tell me about it?”

He felt more than saw the way you lit up. Excitement ran through your whole body like a shot of adrenaline.

“Really?”

He hummed. “I’ll try to stay awake.”

A pang of guilt shot through your heart. You didn’t want him to stay up just so you could ramble his ear off about something he isn’t even interested in. You opened your mouth to protest, but another face nuzzled into the shoulder of your pajamas, opposite to Yancy.

Illinois’ voice was rough. The languid, almost haughty accent he carried was almost unnoticeable. “What’s goin’ on?” he murmured, eyes squinting in the dark to peer at his two partners.

“They’re hyperfixatin’ on somethin’,” Yancy slurred. Sleep was already pulling his eyelids shut, but he forced them open again. “Was gonna let ‘em talk about it.”

Illinois hummed and turned to look at you, though his neck was at an awkward angle trying to do so. “You sleep at all yet, darlin’?”

You floundered, under the sweet way Yancy had said explained your problem so unbothered by its absurdity, and at the equally sweet pet name Illinois used. “I don’t want to keep you up just so I can talk,” you finally mumbled.

They both seemed affronted at the idea. “We love hearing you talk about your interests,” Illinois assured.

Yancy, seeming a little more awake, sat up so he was sure you saw the grin he bore. His eyes twinkled. “Youse is so passionate about the things you love, how could we not?”

“But-”

“Don’t worry about us, doll.” Yancy settled back down, resting his head on his pillow so he could look at you as you spoke. “We’ll just take a nap later.”

Illinois nodded against your shoulder and wrapped an arm around you. His hand rested easily on Yancy’s arm, tucking calloused fingers under the songbird’s t-shirt sleeve. They both waited for you to speak, to ramble for as long as they could stay awake about your hyperfixation. There was no way to deny them any longer.

You slid down further into the blankets. You told them about everything you could think of. You explained what it was you were fixating on, the goods and bads of it. Ships you loved or hated. The lore, history within the universe, character design. Everything.

And as the sun rose, all three of you were curled together in a mass of blankets, fast asleep.

---

Tag List:

@writeawaythepain

@hyperfixat

@cryptidjester (wasn’t sure if you still wanted to be tagged but I’m tagging you just in case. lemme know if you want me to remove it from this fic!)

#fanfic #fanfiction #markiplier #markiplier egos #markiplier egos x reader #yancy #ahwm yancy #illinois #ahwm illinois #ahwm #a heist with markiplier #illinois x yancy #illinois x reader #illinois x reader x yancy #yancy x illinois #yancy x reader #yancy x reader x illinois #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #gn reader #x gn reader #fluff #autistic reader #x autistic reader

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

your hands have always held their own

Heist!Mark x reader | Words: 1,063 | read on AO3

Heist!Mark finally asks his partner in crime out on that date.

It was early evening and you and your heist partner sat nearly shoulder to shoulder in your shared living room. The sun hung low, just barely brushing its rays against the clouds, tinging their edges amber and yellow.

Recently, there had been a lot more of these calm afternoons where you would sit together, discussing everything and nothing, perhaps watching TV or whatever videos took both your fancy; sometimes you simply watched the sky until you felt sleepy. Occasionally one of his hands might come up to play idly with your hair (a more affectionate gesture than either of you had ever previously initiated, but you didn't really mind, and neither of you mentioned it).

'This next heist…’ he started, ‘it's supposed to set us up, pretty much for life. And it got me thinking—'

'That's dangerous,' you interrupted.

'Yeah, maybe for you,' he quipped back, eyebrows raised mockingly, but there was no malice in his voice.

'Anyway,' he continued, voice softening. 'I was thinking about the future and stuff. Like, what do we do after this? And as nice as it would be to be able to relax and just enjoy the rest of our lives without worrying about the next spot to rob, I think I would kind of miss doing these jobs with you.'

That got your full attention. He wasn't quite meeting your eyes — instead, a loose strand on his clothes was apparently very interesting — but something about his words and the gentle sincerity with which he'd spoken them took you a little off-guard.

‘...I hadn't really thought much about it. About what happens after.’ And it was true, you hadn't; nothing past the first few wild, exciting dreams that sprung to mind when reading the amount of money the pair of you were being offered for this particular artefact. No real, solid plans.

‘I think I'd miss it too,’ you continued quietly. ‘But I mean, who's to say we can't do a couple more every once in a while, just for the fun of it, y'know? We don't even have to go after anything that valuable. More like just… for old times’ sake.’ You caught his gaze and he smiled, a little fond and a little hopeful, dark eyes twinkling.

‘Yeah, cool… So, uhm,’ he averted his gaze again and you couldn't help but find his uncharacteristic hesitance and bashfulness adorable, wondering what was on his mind that was making him act this awkward.

‘So I was wondering, once this heist is over, if you'd maybe wanna go out sometime?’

‘Sure, is that it?’ you question, oblivious. (Or maybe not wanting to get ahead of yourself. Surely there's no way he meant it like that.)

Your crime partner’s head perked up, eyes wide and looking directly into yours, as if searching for something.

‘Really?’

‘Umm, yeah?’ you say, incredulous. ‘What's got you so nervous? And… surprised? We go out together all the time.’

‘No, buddy, you don't get it…’ he said, sat looking a little like a kicked puppy. The look of disappointment that crossed his face broke your heart and instantly made you regret your words.

His hands returned to fidgeting and oh, you wanted to take those hands in yours and ease the nerves from his palms, thread his fingers through your own, press your lips to his knuckles.

Mark sighed. One of his hands came to rest on his knee while the other carded through his hair. You found yourself wanting to do the same.

‘Listen…’ he began again, eyes downcast while his hand came to rest in his lap. ‘We've been friends for what feels like ages now, working together for even longer. I know we butt heads at times, I can be an idiot and you can get on my nerves but-’ Finally his eyes met yours, and the affection in them made your breath catch in your throat.

The sun was setting by now, casting a gorgeous orange glow through the room and over his features. It made his eyes appear almost golden, and it suddenly occurred to you that no shiny trinket you could steal could ever possibly be worth more than the look those eyes were giving you in this moment. You internally cringed at the thought, but you couldn't deny it was true.

‘You're really important to me,’ he said earnestly. ‘I don't always agree with you but I always trust your judgement. I probably trust you more than anyone else, to be honest. You're my best friend, and maybe I'm wrong, but I think there could be something else here? And I wanna try being more? If that's okay with you.’

‘You mean-’

‘Yeah.’ He took your hand, said your name, foregoing any of his nicknames for you. ‘I love you — I always have, as a friend, but I think I have feelings for you. So, if you reciprocate even a little, let me take you out. On a real date. And if things don't work out,’ (you didn't miss the small flicker of something sad as he added that part) ‘well, we can still work together. And we'll still be friends, right?’ he asked hopefully.

You could feel your heart thrumming wildly, from his words, the intensity of his gaze and the warmth radiating from his hand to yours.

You took his other hand, the one still atop his knee, and replied softly: ‘I'd really love that, actually. To go on a date with you, I mean.’

The smile he gave you was genuine, unlike the typical cocky. It was wide and crinkled the skin beneath his eyes. You briefly wondered whether he could feel your racing pulse through your intertwined hands.

‘Then it's agreed. After the heist.’

‘After the heist,’ you promised.

Inevitably, you would run into problems and possibly danger in your next heist, as you usually did, but you trusted Mark, and you knew you could count on him when push came to shove. You knew that you would follow him anywhere, and the two of you had a better chance of conquering any obstacles you faced if you were together, as you always had.

The sun dipped beneath the clouds, the room was warm, and things felt comfortably the same and yet like this was a turning point for the pair of you.

You were sure this heist would be one to remember.

#(title is from Violet by Wild Party) #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #I love them the sillies #this is straight up the softest of fluff #I got embarrassed and cringed writing this but I hope it's worth putting out there and someone else will enjoy it #there is NOT enough heist mark content #like what there is in terms of fics is SO GOOD don't get me wrong there's just not a lot #so I hope I can make some decent contributions for the heist stans out there lolol #it's always yancy this and illinois that and I love them too BUT HEIST MARK IS RIGHT THERE?? #HE SPECIFICALLY BRINGS UP THAT YOU HAD PREVIOUSLY ESTABLISHED TO GO ON A DATE? WHY IS MY BOY SO OVERLOOKED #MAKE IT MAKE SENSE #I love this man... sorta underrated ego ngl #maybe bc he gets dumped in with actor which is valid and understandable tbh but like.. he's his own character too :( #sorry I'm very passionate #I'm just a sucker for friends to lovers basically #ahwm #a heist with markiplier #markiplier egos #markiplier cu #heist mark #heist!mark #heist mark x y/n #heist mark x reader #mark iplier #amee writes #partners in crime

[yeh-spookey-betch]

Illinois x GN!Reader: The Twin Cats and the Magic String

SFW!!!!!!

credit to @nekosounds for doing this with me as a roleplay that inspired the fic

Summary: You’re not as good at dodging traps as Illinois is tags: hurt comfort, sfw, illinois x reader, gender neutral reader, fluff, some cursing, use of caps in the writing

~~~

You had been translating the hieroglyphs when it happened.

Illinois had told you time and time again how to keep an eye out for traps, but the pressure plate was well disguised, and as it ground into the stone, pegs shot back into the walls as giant stone slabs dropped into place, boxing you in completely. 

As the ringing in your ears stopped, and you assessed your body-- all still there, yes. You were fine. Terrified but fine-- the dust settled and you could hear Illinois on the other side of the stone, calling your name in panic, asking if you were okay. 

"I'm alright! I'm just glad they didn't crush me…" you coughed a couple times at the dust, your eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. There were three small diamond shaped holes to allow air in, and precious little light. "Can you get a flashlight through one of those openings?" You reached up to one. 

He shoved a flashlight through the hole into your hand. As the cool weight settled in your hand your thumb found the switch and nudged it up to turn the light on. You could still see the hieroglyphs you were supposed to be translating. But no manner of release you could see from here. "Any way to release it out there?" You called. 

"I don't see anything, darlin'." His voice came in return. "I'll go ahead and call for help getting these slabs back up into wherever they fell from. One of the guys is bound to have a jack or a prybar or a wedge." He reassured you. He was silent for a moment, then you could hear the dial tones of him putting his call on speaker. 

"You get service in here?" You asked, but he didn't answer quite yet. 

"Yessir, Asimir is waiting by the jeep like you say, missere." Came the thickly accented voice of the guide that had driven you both to the foot of the plateau. 

"Asimir, Y/n got into a trap, can you get anything up here that'll move a stone slab out of the way?" Illinois asked. His voice moved slightly as if he was pacing while he talked. 

"Yessir, two hours, I am coming." Asimir hung up. 

"TWO HOURS??" You shouted from your cubicle prison. 

"Calm down, darlin', I'm still here and I'm not going anywhere until you're out of there. Getting anxious about it is only going to make you hyperventilate." He came back to peer into the opening. "Do the hieroglyphs say anything about how to get out?" 

You turned your attention back to the carvings. "No, it's a fable about twin cats who got separated exploring a labyrinth." 

"Sounds like a cute kids story." Illinois hummed.

"Or a drama about how curiosity gets you in trouble." You scoff, propping the flashlight in the corner to try to light up most of the small space. 

"It's two cats in a maze. How much trouble could they possibly get into?" He chuckled. 

"How much trouble have we gotten into? And we're sentient." You shot back. 

"So go on." He said after a moment. 

"And do what, Illinois? I'm stuck." You huffed. 

"No, I mean go on with the story! What happens to the kitties?" He protested, now shining his light through the hole at you. 

"Are you five??" You shielded your eyes from the more direct beam. 

"Yes! Bedtime story please!!" He joked in return. You turned on the floor to lean your back against the artefact's pedestal and translate the rest of the carving. 

"Oh my God, my life is in your hands. I'm fucking doomed." You complained. "Keep your light on it." You told him. He aimed his flashlight beam at the wall of runes. You took a deep breath and started to read. 

"One day, Mewl and Purr found themselves playing farther from home, and stumbled upon a great temple--"

"Mewl and Purr that's so precious." 

"Do you fucking want me to read the story?" 

"There's nothing else you have to do at the moment." 

"Fuck off and shut up." You snapped. He chuckled and you kept reading.

"And they stumbled upon a great temple with a maze in its depths. Purr turned to Mewl and said 'there must be something heavenly at the end of this maze. Let's find it!' And Mewl agreed with passion. So they decided to split up and yowl for each other when one had found the right path. 

They both searched and searched as long as they could stand on their paws, but Mewl couldn't find the exit. Nor could he find Purr. He yowled until his voice was sore like he'd swallowed sand. But no one came for him." 

"What happened to the little guy?" Illinois interjected. 

"If you're patient I'll fuckin tell you.

Mewl laid down, wishing he could cry. He wanted his brother more than any treasure at the end of this maze. He wanted to go home for salty fish and sweet milk and lay with their mother and forget the whole thing."

"Tragic. I want salty fish and sweet milk with my mother." 

"You interrupt one more time I swear--" 

"Sorry! Go on!" He was laughing but you pressed on with the story, the faded carvings getting more difficult to read. 

"Mewl lay on his side until something tickled his paw. He looked down, expecting one of the insufferable centipedes the maze was rife with,but instead he saw a magic length of yarn, beckoning him like his master's finger. He followed it, turning this way and that and finally he was following the string so intensely he ran his head right into Purr's. The brothers cheered and played and embraced. They had found each other because of the magic string of the maze and could finally go home and tell their mother the lesson they learned." You finished. 

"Love a happy ending. That was sweet." Illinois sounded like he was smiling. The light moved, but because of your own you weren't completely in the dark. 

"Yeah, it was. But it doesn't exactly help us." You sighed. 

"Asimir's on his way. You won't have to wait too much longer…" his voice was calm, only because he was trying to keep you calm. He was worried too,but would never admit it. 

You sighed again, letting your hand press against the cool stone floor. When you felt something. "Illy…" you had that tone he knew that meant you were really excited and desperate to share something with him but couldn't get the right words out.

"What? Did you think of something?" 

"The cats, Illinois! The story, THE STRING!!!!" You smacked the wall. 

"The string??" He repeated, not knowing what you meant.

"THE CATS REUNITED BY FOLLOWING THE MAGIC STRING LOOK FOR A STRING ON YOUR SIDE!" You shouted. 

"Uh… okay…" there was a minute of shuffling. "I found one! Is there one on your side?" 

"Yes, pull it on three!" 

"Okay… 1… 2… 3!" Both of you yanked the two string releases at once and pegs under the slabs pulled back and they fell into the floor with a grinding slam. 

You uncurled from your defensive position and looked over to see Illinois, no more stone walls in the way. You both moved at once, running to him and you jumping into his arms. 

Neither of you let go until you heard footsteps coming into the chamber. "Yessir, I come with prybar for getting Y/n out of trap--" Asimir called, his light falling on the two of you safe and sound. "You, sir! You are tricking me with this call! They are in no trap!" He shook his finger at Illinois, who laughed and moved towards him to try to explain what had happened. 

#illinois #illinois x reader #markiplier #markiplier egos #gender neutral reader #hurt comfort #fluff #fanfic #my fic #my writing #sfw

[drunkbedsheetghost]

Chapters: 2/4 Fandom: A Heist With Markiplier (Web Series), In Space With Markiplier (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Illinois (A Heist With Markiplier)/You, Illinois (A Heist with Markiplier)/Reader Characters: Reader, Illinois (A Heist with Markiplier), Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel, Captain Magnum (A Heist With Markiplier) Additional Tags: Fluff and Humor, Romantic Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Almost Kiss, First Kiss, Kidnapping, Pirates, Desert Island, Treasure Hunting, Idiots in Love, Gender-neutral Reader Series: Part 3 of The Misadventures Of Illinois And Y/N Summary:

You and Illinois are in love with each other. Unfortunately, you are both idiots. [GN!Reader]

#in space with markiplier #a heist with markiplier #ahwm illinois #ahwm illinois x reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader

[littleoddwriter]

Rules, Guidelines, etc.:

[Used to be: ronaldrx]

I'm a hobby writer and mostly write (x Reader) FanFictions and Headcanons. But I am also working on my original story whenever I can, so that I’ll hopefully publish it as an actual book someday. My Ao3.

Here’s a link to my Ko-Fi, in case you want to support me financially. It would mean a lot to me! (Obviously no obligation whatsoever! You never have to pay for anything on my blog, it’s merely an option for donations.)

Also, here are my sideblogs if you’re interested:

Dead Poets Society

Horror

Raúl Esparza

The Simpsons

Only ask for the characters I’ve got listed, please. I’ve written down all of the ones I actually write for, and the list is being updated regularly, as I often find new (actors, whose) characters I write for! (And yes, I always write for every character, so don’t ever worry if you wanna ask for one I haven’t written for in a long time, or ever, it’s fine!) Please always be patient with me. If I haven’t outright declined your request, it’s definitely in the works; even if it has been weeks or months since you’ve sent it in! And only send your requests via ASKs. No DMs or comments, please.

If you have a request, send an Ask to my inbox.

NO sexual NSFW requests, please (more details further down).

Requests = CLOSED (Max. Limit: 10)

Current number of requests: 10

Last updated: October 29, 2023

Masterlists are linked with fandoms/actors/characters below. I WRITE FOR:

ALFRED MOLINA characters:

Doctor Otto Octavius/Doctor Octopus

DAVID DASTMALCHIAN characters:

Abner Krill/Polka-Dot Man

Bob Taylor

Denham

James Lewis

Johnson

Kurt Goreshter

Lonny Crane

Murdoc

Philippe/Abra Kadabra

Simon Lynch

Thomas Schiff

ETHAN HAWKE characters:

Arthur Harrow

Ellison Oswalt

Goodnight Robicheaux

James Sandin

EWAN MCGREGOR characters:

Alex Law

Catcher Block

Christopher Robin

Curt Wild

Dan Torrance

John Bishop

Mark Renton

Obi-Wan Kenobi 

Roman Sionis/Black Mask* (Birds of Prey - Masc!Reader only) [Any other version of Roman Sionis/Black Mask can be with a Gender Neutral/Female!Reader.]

HUGH DANCY characters:

Adam Raki

Cal Roberts

Luke Brandon

Executive ADA Nolan Price

Will Graham

KARL URBAN characters:

Billy Butcher

Black Hat

John Kennex

Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy

Markiplier EGOS:

Darkiplier

Illinois

Wilford Warfstache

Yancy

PAUL DANO characters:

Alex Jones/Barry Milland [Platonic only!]

Dwayne Hoover [Platonic only!]

Edward Nashton/The Riddler

Eli Sunday

Jay (Okja)

Joby Taylor

Klitz

PEDRO PASCAL characters:

Agent Whiskey

Dave York

Dio Morrissey

Eddie

Ezra

Francisco “Catfish” Morales

Marcus Moreno

Marcus Pike

Max Phillips

Maxwell Lord

Oberyn Martell

Ricky Hauk

RAÚL ESPARZA characters:

Bobby

Dr. Frederick Chilton*

Jackson Neill

Jonas Nightingale

Rafael Barba

Characters from 9-1-1 (Lone Star):

Carlos Reyes*

Eddie Diaz

Evan “Buck” Buckley

Howard “Chimney” Han

Josh Russo*

Mateo Chavez

Paul Strickland

Bobby Nash

Tim Rosewater

TK Strand*

Characters from Law and Order(: Special Victims Unit):

Detective/ADA Dominick “Sonny” Carisi, Jr.

Sergeant Mike Dodds

Detective Nick Amaro

Executive ADA Nolan Price

ADA Peter Stone

ADA Rafael Barba

Deputy Chief William Dodds

Little Miss Sunshine:

Dwayne Hoover [Platonic only!]

Frank*

Our Flag Means Death:

Edward Teach/Blackbeard*

Frenchie

Izzy Hands

Stede Bonnet*

Prisoners (2013):

Alex Jones/Barry Milland [Platonic only!]

Bob Taylor

Detective David Loki

Renfield (2023):

Count Dracula

Robert Montague Renfield

Tedward “Teddy” Lobo

SLASHERS/Horror Film Characters:

Asa Emory/The Collector

Ash J. Williams [I will usually default to Ash from the TV show, unless requested otherwise!]

Billy Lenz (1974)

Billy Loomis

Bo Sinclair

Brahms Heelshire

Bubba Sawyer/Leatherface (TCM 1974 and TCM 2)

Charles Lee Ray/Chucky

Chop Top Sawyer

Corey Cunningham

Dewey Riley

Drayton Sawyer

Herbert West*

Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull

Lawrence Gordon

Lester Sinclair

Luigi Largo

Mark Hoffman  

Nubbins Sawyer

Pavi Largo

Stu Macher  

Vincent Sinclair

William Easton

Star Wars:

Anakin Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Qui-Gon Jinn

The Girl Next Door:

Klitz

Eli

Characters from The Simpsons:

Cecil Terwilliger*

Fat Tony

Frankie the Squealer

Grady*

Jack Lassen

Johnny Tightlips

Julio*

Legs

Louie

Moe Szyslak

Ned Flanders

Otto Mann

Seymour Skinner

Sideshow Bob

Sideshow Mel

Snake Jailbird

Timothy Lovejoy

Waylon Smithers*

What We Do in the Shadows:

Anton (Movie)

Deacon

Guillermo de la Cruz*

Laszlo Cravensworth

Nandor the Relentless

Viago

Vladislav

* Please note that an asterisk (*) means that these characters are Male/Masc/GenderNeutral!Reader only (including non-binary, of course). Platonic relationships with Female!Reader are possible, but no romantic ones.

If it’s a character that is open to all Readers, and you do not specify in your request what you want, I’ll usually opt for a Gender Neutral Reader by default.

SHIPS, such as:

BlackBonnet (OFMD)

SteddyHands (OFMD)

Black Pete x Lucius Spriggs (OFMD)

Buck x Josh Russo (9-1-1)

Dracfield (Renfield 2023)

Buddie (9-1-1)

Eli x Klitz (The Girl Next Door)

Nandermo (WWDITS)

Herbert West x Dan Cain (Re-Animator)

McKirk (Star Trek: AOS)

Oluwande x Jim Jimenez (OFMD)

Barisi (Law & Order SVU) 

Renfield x Teddy Lobo (Renfield 2023)

Sickrent (Trainspotting/T2)

Stobotnik (Sonic Movie)

Tarlos (9-1-1: Lone Star)

AnderPerry (Dead Poets Society)

ZsaszMask (Birds of Prey)

Lastly, I would like to add things I will NOT write (about):

Sexual NSFW fics/headcanons (I used to write those as you can see in my Masterlists, but I have my reasons for not writing them anymore. Any hints at sexual topics are fine).

Anything related to death as the main subject (this includes deadly diseases, anything fatal, really, etc.).

Anything that romanticizes Mental Illness (my Vent Fics about my own disorders obviously do not romanticize any of it and I do not stand for that).

(Recreational) Drug Use

Extreme Possessive Behaviour and/or Jealousy

Yandere

If you have something you would like me to write for, but you do not see it listed anywhere, please ask me before requesting it, so we can talk about it. I hope you enjoy yourself on my blog and have a good time!

My Asks and DMs are always open for any questions or simply to talk!

- Jesse

#ronny.exe #jesse.talks #pinned post #about this blog #request rules #guidelines

[slutforstabbings-archive]

The Modern Persephone

Corey Cunningham x gn!Reader

With Michael gone you're ready to start your new life. But you refuse to do it alone. This takes place right after the end of Ends and Reader is essentially a gender neutral Allyson, everything that happened in the movie more or less happened to Reader.

Warnings - angst, animal death, semi-graphic descriptions of corpses and guts

4,380 words

@rebel-blue @nachtmahr666 @vanellygal

You sit in the hospital cafeteria and sip a coffee. You haven’t slept in days, the dark circles under your eyes steadily spreading. If you don’t sleep soon they might engulf your whole face. You know you reek too, you haven’t showered and you’ve almost finished the pack of cigarettes you found in the pocket of Corey’s leather jacket, even tho you’d never smoked before Monday. None of that matters to you though. There’s something much more important on your mind. 

You check your phone. She’s late. You bounce your leg anxiously and scan the room for her. Finally you see her striding towards you. 

“Oh my god,” she says when she sees you, voice full of concern. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

You let out a dry little laugh. “I barely recognize myself.” 

“I heard what happened to Corey Cunningham. You guys were dating? I’m really sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks. That’s actually why I wanted to meet you. I know you can find out what’s happening with his body.”

The woman sitting across from you is Emily, a friend you’d made in nursing school. When you met she was already a nurse, but studying to be a pathologist, and had been the TA for your anatomy class. You had asked her a lot of questions over coffee during that semester, trying to be a good student, and a bond had formed between you in the process. You don’t hang out much, but she’s one of the only people in Haddonfield you trust. Now she works for the county morgue, where you know they took Corey’s body after the events on Halloween. 

“His body?” She asks, surprised. 

“Yeah. His parents are dead and he wasn’t in contact with any other family members. I know I don’t have any legal standing, we weren’t dating very long before he died, but I should be his next of kin and I want to decide what happens to his body.”

“If you have no legal standing to claim his body and they can’t get in contact with someone who does, the county will probably just cremate him on the cheap and scatter his ashes in the Illinois River.”

“No!” You exclaim, sounding more forceful than you meant to. “He wouldn’t have wanted to be cremated, I know he wouldn’t.” You say more calmly.

It’s not true. You have no idea what Corey would have wanted. But you know what you want, and you need his body to be fully intact. You pray they didn’t autopsy him. 

“Well, I can do some digging for you, but if he’s scheduled for cremation already there’s probably nothing we can do.”

“Thank you, Emily.”

“Are you gonna be okay? You can call me if you need anything. I know you’ve been through a lot and this whole thing is terrible. I’m here if you need me.” She does look genuinely sad and concerned about you. It breaks through the shell you’ve been wearing the past few days, and you feel a single tear run down your face. “I gotta go, I only had a couple minutes free, but I’ll let you know as soon as I can,” she says as she stands up from the table. 

You watch her walk away. Then you pound back what’s left of your coffee and go home. 

Home isn’t really home right now. You’re staying with Lindsey. You can’t bear to be in your grandmother’s house with that big dark stain where Corey bled. You know exactly why the Allens abandoned their house after Jeremy died, haunted by the trauma they endured, and constantly reminded by that unholy discoloration on the foyer floor. 

In the parking lot you pull his cigarettes out of the pocket of his jacket. You’ve scarcely taken it off since you put it on to go meet him on Halloween. Wearing his jacket feels like he’s still with you, just a little bit, and smoking his cigarettes does too. But to your dismay, there’s only two left in the box, and you can’t smoke the last one, it’s his lucky. You put them back in your pocket for now.

When you get to Lindsey’s house, you write her a note. You don’t think you’ll still be here when she gets home, but you feel bad leaving without saying goodbye. You’ve already said all your other goodbyes, meeting your grandma earlier in the day. Lindsey’s the only one left. You appreciate her letting you stay, and giving you full access to everything in her house. You stick the note to her fridge with a magnet. Then you go gather some sticks from outside. You tie them together with string, breaking them to the right length and crossing them over each other so they look vaguely like a person. 

Your phone rings. Emily.

“That was fast,” You say instead of Hello. 

“He’s scheduled for cremation tomorrow. If you want to see him, you can come to the morgue right now, but you gotta be quick, I’m only alone down here for a little while. As far as preventing the county from going through with the cremation, there’s paperwork you can fill out, but I don’t know if you’ll be able to file it in time to stop them.”

“Okay, I’m coming. I’ll see you in a couple minutes.” You hang up, jump in your car, and speed towards the morgue. 

When you get there, the receptionist tries to make you sign in as a visitor. You’re tempted to give a fake name but she asks for your ID. You really didn’t want there to be a record of you being here. You pat your pockets stupidly and tell her you think you left your wallet in the car. You walk back outside and call Emily. 

She tells you to come to the back and she’ll let you in the service entrance. It makes her nervous to do so but she can understand, the way this town talks, not wanting your name on the morgue sign in sheet. You drive your car to the back of the building and park with your back end facing the door. Emily ushers you in, down some long hallways, and finally to the room with all the drawers for bodies. It looks exactly how it does on tv, you think. 

She leads you to a specific drawer. 

“Are you sure you’re ready to see him?” She asks, eyebrows knit together in concern. 

“I was there when he died, I can handle seeing him dead.”

“A fresh body is different from one that’s been in storage for several days. He won’t quite look like… himself.”

“I’m ready. Show me.”

Emily purses her lips like she doesn’t believe you, but she unlatches the door and pulls the drawer out. 

She was right, you weren’t ready. Your vision tunnels and you’re losing your balance. You think you feel yourself wailing, but you don’t hear any sound. Emily runs around the drawer to catch you as your knees give out. She locks you in her arms and you sob into her chest. 

“Shhh. I’m so sorry,” she says soothingly.  “I can push the drawer back in while you face away”

“No. I have to see him.” You pull away from her and wipe your tears. Then you brace yourself and turn back to his body. 

Corey, this thing that used to be Corey, lays flat on his back, eyes wide open, looking straight up. His curly hair is splayed out limply around his head. His beautiful pink lips are ashen and deflated. The holes where he was stabbed and shot are clean and bloodless, but they gape wide open with ragged edges and you can see inside his body. As a nurse and as a survivor of so much violence, the wounds wouldn’t bother you if they were fresh and flowing with hot, red blood. But seeing them like this turns your stomach. 

Despite your nausea, you lean down and look at him more closely. Thankfully he hasn’t been autopsied or embalmed. You take his face between your hands and his head lolls wrongly on his broken neck. You plant a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. 

“Help me get him out of here,” you say.

“What!?” 

“If I can’t file the paperwork to have his body released to me in time, I’m just going to take him. I have blankets in my car we can wrap him in.”

Emily sighs your name. “That’s not a good idea. What are you going to do with him?”

“I’m gonna bring him back,” you say, finally looking up from his face.

“You what?” She replies, eyes wide.

“I’m gonna bring him back! I’ve been doing research on how. I think I have it figured out. Listening to Willy the Kid spew all his bullshit about how Corey and Michael were the tools of some evil cult… it got me thinking. I know they weren’t, I know there’s no cult, but what if the kind of magic he was talking about is real. Lindsey’s gotten into witchcraft since she survived. Everyone knows she reads tarot, but that’s not all she does. I’ve been staying with her. She has all these books I’ve been reading.”

“You’re not making sense,” Emily says. “You’re grieving, you lost your parents, and your boyfriend, and now you’ve lost another boyfriend, and you helped kill a man. You’ve been through so much, I understand this coping mechanism but -”

“You’re not listening to me!” you hiss, cutting her off. “I killed a frog. I trapped it in Lindsey’s garden and I stabbed a knife straight through it. Then I combined some of the spells and techniques I’d been reading about. And the frog came back. It hopped away like nothing happened.”

Emily says your name quietly. “Please, listen to yourself,” she begs. “You’re not okay.”

“You don’t have to believe me! You don’t have to help me! Just stay out of my fucking way!” You wrap your arms around Corey’s shoulders, cradling his ragdoll head, and try to pull him out of the drawer. 

“Stop! Stop stop stop,” Emily cries, pulling your arms from around him. She restrains you for a moment, then she sighs and releases you. “I’ll help you take him. Let’s go get the blankets from your car.”

The two of you sprint down the hallways. She props the door open while you get a big bundle of blankets out of your backseat. Then you run back to the room where Corey still lays in his half open drawer. You drape the blankets over an autopsy table and roll it to him. Emily shows you how she was taught to move bodies by herself, gently sliding him onto the table. Then you tuck and fold the blankets around his body, almost like swaddling a baby. 

Emily pushes the autopsy table back down the hallways and out the back door. You practice the technique she showed you to move his body from the autopsy table to your backseat by yourself. It’s more difficult than she made it look, but hopefully you’ll only have to do it a couple times. 

“I can’t thank you enough,” you say, closing your car door. 

“No, you can’t,” she says, and laughs a little. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna tell my boss.”

“I’m sorry I put you in that position,” you say. “I’m confident you’ll think of something believable.” You reach out and put a hand on her shoulder. 

“Good luck with your reanimation.” She says it like she means it but her face looks more like she’s telling you not to touch a hot stove. 

You smile despite her concern. Then you get in your car and drive away. 

You only go a couple miles before pulling into a gas station. You take your person-shaped bundle of sticks out of the glove box. When you put your hand on Emily’s shoulder, you’d plucked one of her long, golden hairs off her shirt. You tie it onto the bundle of sticks, and then you unspool most of a roll of medical tape, wrapping it around the poppet you made and chanting.

“I bind you, Emily. From telling anyone that I took Corey’s body. From telling anyone what I said about bringing him back. I bind you from trying to contact me, or Lindsey, or Grandma.” You repeat it over and over, focusing hard, imagining her trying to tell someone what happened, but red ropes coming from nowhere and wrapping her up so she can’t. You feel sort of bad doing it, but it’s what needs to be done to protect you and Corey in your new lives. 

Then you go into the store and buy as many bags of ice as you can carry at once. You pile them in the backseat on top of Corey’s body. You move the car to a pump and fill up. With a full tank of gas, you leave the station and just drive. 

You don’t know where you’re going. You and Corey hadn’t gotten the chance to talk about where you’d go to start your new life together. But it doesn’t matter that much. Right now you just need to get distance between you and Haddonfield. Once he’s back you can iron out all the other details.

You keep the heat turned down kind of low even when your knuckles get stiff and painful inside your gloves. You have to prolong the life of the ice as much as you can. When you come to a crossroads in an empty little midwestern nowhere, you toss the poppet you made of Emily out the window. Goodbye, friend. Thank you for everything. 

When you notice yourself starting to drift off to sleep, and in turn, off the road, you take an exit that advertises a super 8, and get a room. It pains you deeply but you leave Corey in the car while you take a shower and sleep for a little over an hour. You really needed the rest, and you had to wait until there would be fewer witnesses. 

When you wake it’s early morning, the sky mostly inky blue but already purple-gray on the edges. You go out to the car and gather up all the ice. The bags leak a little, but the cold outside has persevered most of it. You dump a little less than half of it into the bathtub. Then you go back outside to get him. The distance between your car and the door to your room is as short as it could be, but still longer than you had to carry him at the morgue. He’s not that much bigger than you, but he feels enormous in your exhausted arms as you fight to get him across the threshold. 

As soon as the door is closed you collapse, dropping Corey on top of you. You break down crying.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry we didn’t leave sooner. I should’ve listened to you, I should’ve left work to come to you. You were right, I didn’t have enough bandages to keep you together. I’m sorry I didn’t. But I do now. We’re out of Haddonfield and everything’s going to be okay.” You ramble to the bundle of blankets pinning you to the floor. Stroking where you think his cheeks are underneath. 

You pull yourself out from under him, unwrap him from the bundle of blankets and, mustering every ounce of strength you have left, you get him off the floor and into the bathtub. You pour the rest of the ice over him. You want to get started, right now, but after you’d brought the frog back you’d been so hungry and tired from the amount of effort it took. You know you won’t be successful with Corey if you’re not better rested, and he deserves you at your best. So you go back into the bedroom and sleep again.

This time when you wake, it’s been far longer than an hour. You don’t know what time it is, you’ve had your phone turned off since you went into the morgue, and you don’t want to turn it on until your ritual is complete. It’s dark outside again, fully dark, but brightly illuminated by the full moon. You didn’t time it to the moon on purpose, but it feels like an incredible omen that it’s full tonight of all nights. You walk across the street to a brightly glowing Denny’s and order a massive spread to go. Pancakes, grits, eggs, bacon and sausage, French fries, burgers, slices of pie, coffee and soda and tea. 

You nibble on some of it, eating an okay sized meal, but you leave most of it alone. Corey will probably be hungry when he gets back and you want to be sure you’ll have something he’ll want to eat.

It’s finally time. You sit on your knees beside the bathtub, everything you need around you. You light the last cigarette besides the lucky one and take a deep drag. You know Corey, who had been through so much shit, took great stock in turning one cigarette filter down in every new pack, and waiting to smoke it until all the others were gone. He didn’t believe it really did anything lucky, but opening the pack and seeing it there soothed him somehow. You’re saving it for when he gets back.

First, you open a little jar of a potion you made out of things from Lindsey’s kitchen. It’s olive oil based, but it has a texture like butter from being in the cold car. You scoop some up in your fingers and smear it into his wounds. The way they look still makes you feel sick, but you power through the waves of disgust to pack them full of the potion. 

The frog story you told Emily wasn’t the whole truth. You’d killed three frogs. The first one you couldn’t bring back. It twitched like it was considering it, but ultimately decided not to. The second one you brought back easily, but you didn’t do anything about the stab wound you inflicted on it, and as it hopped away, its guts fell out and it died again. The third frog you’d given this potion and sutured its wounds closed. It came back to life more easily than the other two and survived the night. You’d seen it the next morning, wounds already almost fully healed, seemingly exactly the same as before you’d trapped it.

You tell yourself Corey will be just like the third frog as you open a fresh suture needle and sew his wounds closed. After his neck and his shoulder are taken care of, you check his left hand, knowing his stitches had been torn out and he’d started showing signs of infection. It’s the worst looking wound by far and you have to fight your reflexes hard to even touch it. But you do what needs to be done. You give him a shot  of antibiotics from a bottle you stole from work. You want it to start circulating the second his heart starts beating again. 

Now is the moment of truth. You close your eyes and put your hands on him. You recite the spell you wrote, cobbled together from fragments from Lindsey’s books. You imagine Corey’s spirit, existing somewhere in the dark. While your mouth moves, repeating the words over and over again, you imagine your consciousness going to find him. 

In your head, you walk through a black void. The echo of your footsteps is the only sensory input. Where are you, Corey? Then you see him. Standing in front of you, back turned. You move to stand next to him and take his hand. He looks at you with his big brown eyes and smiles. 

“Come with me,” you say and take a step forward. Corey stands still. You step backwards to stand next to him again. “Corey, come with me.” 

You fight to stay calm as you try repeatedly to get him to come with you. He smiles at you sweetly but refuses to follow you, standing there with his hand limply in yours until you walk so far ahead of him he slips out of your grasp. 

“Come with me!  Come with me, Corey, please!” You beg him, tugging on his arm. Tears stream down your real life face from under your closed eyelids, your physical mouth still chanting your spell. “Everything will be okay, you just have to come with me!” He doesn’t budge. 

You open your eyes. There he is in the tub, surrounded by more water than ice as it melts slowly in the heat of the hotel room. Still just as dead. You shove your fist in your mouth and scream around it. Then you center yourself the best you can. Taking deep, shuddering breaths. You sit on the edge of the tub instead of on the ground beside it, and put your hands on his face instead of his chest. You don’t know if this matters. The frogs were so small you could just cup them in your hands. You close your eyes and start chanting again.

Just as before, you see Corey from behind. But this time he turns around to face you before you’re next to him. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey!” You launch yourself into his arms. He catches you in a hug and laughs. “Come with me!” You say excitedly.  You feel him stirring in your real hands. “Everything will be okay if you just come with me.” 

Suddenly his cheeks feel warm. You open your eyes, but don’t stop chanting until his eyes flutter closed, then open again.

“Corey?” You say. 

He tries to say your name but all that comes out is a gurgling sound. You don’t know if it’s from the stab wound in his neck or the fact that his vocal cords have been sitting dry and unused for almost a week now. 

“Don’t speak! It’s okay.” You lean down and put your ear to his chest. You hear his heart beating extremely faintly. He shivers in the ice water. “Are you cold?” You ask. He groans.

You help him stand in the tub. His head rolls to one side, his neck healing, but still kind of broken. You dry him off and wrap him up in blankets. You should’ve brought something for him to wear, but it didn’t occur to you that he would be naked when you got him from the morgue. You keep one towel dry, and roll it up to use like a neck brace, sitting Corey upright in the bed and tucking the towel around him to keep his head upright while his body goes through the accelerated healing process brought on by the magic. 

You hover over him, watching nervously. You’re scared that the spell will wear off somehow, that you should have practiced on something bigger than a frog first. Or dead longer. You feel as fragile as he looks, extremely spent from the power required by the spell. But his color slowly improves, going from gray to pink with the sky outside as the sun rises. 

You ask if he’s hungry and present him with the feast you got at Denny’s. He eats it ravenously, sampling everything. He seems much better after that. Better enough to try talking again. 

“What happened?” He asks, his voice a barely intelligible rasp.

“You died on Halloween. I watched the light leave your eyes. But I wasn’t going to start our new life without you,” you say. “I brought you back.”

“How?” He croaks.

“I know it sounds crazy, but I learned a spell. I don’t really understand how it works. But I found you and led you back to your body.” 

“You still want me? I killed so many people.” 

“No, Corey, Michael killed those people,” you say in a soothing tone. You smooth his hair. He starts to protest but you talk over him. “Michael killed those people. But my grandma and I killed Michael..” 

Corey’s eyes widen. “Are you sure he’s really dead?”

“We put him in the shredder at the shop. He’s gone forever.” You smile and squeeze Corey’s hand. “With him gone, grandma let me go. We’re free now.”

You reach into your pocket and pull out the battered box of Marlboro Reds,  flipping it open to show him the inside. “I'm sorry, I smoked most of the cigarettes you left behind. But I saved you your lucky one. I knew it had to be the first one for when you came back.”

Corey reaches out and takes it from the box. You flick the lighter and hold it out to him. He leans forward and lights the cigarette. Watching him smoke it you can’t help but smile. Everything has been so hard for so long, but the cherry at the end of that cigarette looks like the light at the end of the tunnel. 

Corey sleeps. You know he probably needs the rest to heal, to be all the way back. But it scares you. What if he doesn’t wake up? You drift off beside him but jerk awake to check on him over and over again. 

The only place you can get him clothes nearby is a Tractor Supply Co but that’s good enough. You leave him in the hotel bed and race around the store. When you unlock the door to the room you’re so certain he’ll be dead again in there. But he isn’t. He’s still as you left him, watching the ancient TV set. 

As Corey dresses in the clothes you bought him, and you clean up the room he gets a sensation like someone is watching him, but it’s different from the way that usually feels. It’s almost like the person watching him is inside him. Using his eyes to monitor where he is. He looks in the mirror. That’s him, looking back, but something about him isn’t right. He chalks it up to being reanimated. But he can’t help but wonder. If you could bring him back…  How can it be true that Michael is gone forever? 

Corey feels a strong, almost instinctive urge to cover his face.

#corey cunningham #corey cunningham x reader #halloween ends #fan fiction #mine

[paigesmaze]

hi!! could i please request an illinois x reader with 65 and 83, semi-fluffy where the reader and illy are looking for something in a supposedly haunted old building and illinois keeps making fun of them for latching onto him and jumping at every little sound? thank you so much for your time, have an excellent day :]

Ghost Hunters

AO3

Summary: (Gender-Neutral Reader): Illinois is always busy trying to find his next adventure. When he decides to try out ghost hunting, he invites you, his best friend, along. And it seems as if Illinois knows exactly how to reveal your feelings.

A/N: Thank you for the request, Anon! I had so much fun writing this, it is so fluffy. If there are any other requests, please don't hesitate to submit them. Enjoy, Loves! :)<3

Word Count: 4,204

Why you had ever agreed to tag along on the trips Illinois would often take was a mystery to you. The adventurer seemed to have absolutely no fears and would travel anywhere if it meant that he could potentially discover some new treasure, even if that meant throwing himself into near-death situations daily.

Maybe you went with him so he wouldn’t get himself killed, or maybe it was because you cherished him more than you cared to admit. Over the years, the man had come to hold a special place in your heart. And even if he didn’t want to admit it, you were his closest companion. Sure, he’d had partners in the past who he looked after, but he never felt as close with someone as he had with you. He would jump at any opportunity to have you nearby when he went exploring, wanting to share every little detail with you. You found it adorable, especially when he would go on and on about the history of his treasures. It was like his words were coming out faster than his brain could even process what he was saying, and though most people would say he was hard to keep up with, you always understood everything he was saying. You hung onto every word he spoke as if it was the most fascinating information you’d ever hear. Though, you’d never actually let it show that you felt that way, as it would surely cause a rift in your already existing friendship.

But there was nothing like seeing him excited about going on another trip, which is why you didn’t hesitate when he asked if you wanted to go on a road trip to Kentucky to visit some haunted hospital he had come across.

In an attempt to “broaden his horizons,” as he put it, he wanted to attempt ghost hunting. And what better place to hunt ghosts than an old hospital where thousands of people had died a hundred years ago. So, he gathered all of his gadgets into the back of his truck, along with all of the supplies that the two of you would need for the next few days, and you were on the road. The two of you had planned to stay at a motel nearby while you spent a few days going through the hospital. The location that you were going to was called the Waverly Hills Sanatorium, a place that you’d heard close to nothing about.

The radio softly played some vaguely familiar tune as you peered out the window of the car door with your chin propped up on the palm of your hand. You let out a content sigh and shut your eyes as the breeze kissed your skin. Though the wind created a bit of a chill on your face, the shining sun left a warm glow on your face. Suddenly feeling a pair of eyes on you, you glanced towards Illinois and saw that his gaze was glued to you, an unfamiliar look on his face.

“Keep your eyes on the road, dingus,” You playfully spoke as you flicked the man in the arm softly. His eyebrows lifted a bit as he concealed a surprising look, seemingly unknowing of the fact that he had been staring at you for a fair amount of time. He laughed softly under his breath.

“God, you always have to be so mean to me, don’t you?” He joked. “You forget who you’re with. I will gladly leave you to the company of those ghosts if you keep it up, honey.”

Your cheeks felt warm at the affectionate nickname as you let out a breathy laugh. Even with the stupid insult he’d thrown your way, he still seemed to fluster you. The way that he shamelessly threw out those little pet names or the way that he would stare at you with that god-forsaken look on his face always left your mind racing. It had always been this way, you two were the best of friends and did nearly everything together. You always told yourself that Illinois was a natural flirt. He was charming and extremely handsome. Anyone could see that.

You never thought that those comments were sincere, though. You told yourself that he was just comfortable with you. You were best friends, co-adventurers, roommates, and nothing more.

You snapped out of your trance when you realized that Illinois was waiting for any kind of response from you. You shook yourself out of it and asked, “So, ghosts? What happened to finding undiscovered treasures in creepy ass caves?”

“Well, I thought that I’d branch out a little, you know? Communicate with the dead a bit, make some ghost friends,” He joked. “Plus, I spent way too much money on that equipment back there and I have got to put it to good use before I lose my mind,” He said, gesturing towards the odd contraptions in the trunk.

You chuckled as you glanced at said items in the back of the vehicle. Seeing the bright lights of the motel coming up, you were anticipating being able to finally stretch after your long six-hour journey. The few rest stops that you had taken hadn’t done much to help with the soreness you felt in your body from sitting in the same position for such a long period.

Illinois pulled into the driveway of the small building, hopping out of the truck almost immediately before hoisting as many bags as he could over his shoulder. You peered at him from your spot behind the truck, letting out a false scoff as you saw that Illinois had not only taken the equipment and his things, but he had taken your bags as well.

“Show off…” You muttered as you closed the doors and locked the vehicle. Illinois looked at you, a wide grin on his face as he waited for you to join him in traveling up to your shared room. You gathered your keys from the front desk and made your way towards the hallway of doors.

When you and Illinois arrived at your room, you quickly unlocked and opened the door, ready to sprawl out on a bed and fall asleep. Before you could even think to do so, you stopped abruptly, glancing at the arrangement of the room.

“You have got to be kidding me,” You let out a frustrated sigh. Looking at Illinois, who stood behind you, you spoke, “You booked a two-bed room, didn’t you?”

He furrowed his eyebrows and brushed past you, a hand on your arm as he walked by to view the room for himself. There he saw that there was only one bed in the room that he had booked. Looking around once more, he noticed a couch on the other side of the room and dropped the bags down in the empty space next to it.

“As much as I know how much you’d probably love to cuddle up to me all night, I can take the couch,” He smirked at you. You looked at the man, mouth agape as you desperately tried to find the words to make a comeback.

Illinois walked up to you, his face inches away as his fingers brushed your jaw. Your eyes widened, wondering what he could possibly be doing. “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies,” He said before winking and turning away, leaving you in even more of a mess than before.

“Asshole,” You muttered as your face burned.

The two of you had finally settled down a bit for the night, and as Illinois sat writing down notes in his journal, you were on your computer researching what history the Waverly Hills Sanatorium Held. According to the things you had seen, it was an establishment created in the early 1900s as a place to treat tuberculosis, or the “White Plague,” as some had called it. The hospital was only meant to hold up to 50 people at a time, but as the plague spread, the number of patients held at a time increased. It is said that over 6,000 people died in the sanatorium. Surely, you and Illinois would have an interesting experience attempting to communicate with these people.

After a bit more research into the topic, you began to get yourself ready for bed, and Illinois doing the same. After a brief goodnight, you two finally fell asleep, anticipating what the next day would hold in the haunted hospital. You had never really believed in supernatural occurrences all that much, but it did freak you out a little that you might come into contact with something of the sort, not that you would ever admit that to Illinois. He would surely never let you live that down.

As you sat in the passenger seat again the next day, awaiting your arrival at the hospital, you pestered Illinois with questions about where the two of you would be exploring when you got there.

“So, I looked a bit more into it,” You spoke. “The sanatorium has what’s called the Death Tunnel, basically a 525-foot-long concrete tunnel where they went to dump all of the deceased bodies after people had passed. And according to all of the websites I looked at, none of those dead bodies ever came back from that tunnel. They were all burned or buried underneath the end of the structure,”

Illinois glanced at you, a bit surprised for a moment. “You really cared enough to do that much research?” He asked. You looked at him, a confused expression on your face.

“Yeah, of course,” You smiled. “You’re only like, my favorite person, of course, I care about what you’re interested in.”

He turned away from you with a small smile, his cheeks turning pink as he cleared his throat before speaking up again. “Well I’m glad you looked into it because we will be visiting the Death Tunnel, I have a ghost box that we can use to try and talk to some of the deceased that were buried or burned in that very place,”

“Is that not creepy to you in the slightest bit?” You questioned.

“That’s beside the point, we’re here,” He uttered as he parked the truck in front of the abandoned hospital. Clouds hung in the sky, a dark contrast compared to the previously bright and sunny day. You craved that type of weather now as you shivered thinking about entering the building.

You and Illinois each grabbed a bag out of the backseat and made your way up to the entrance of the sanatorium. Its doors were etched with tiny swirls and intricate lines hidden by the decaying wood of its frame. It seemed like most, if not all, of the windows had been broken, as well. Surely a product of the vacancy and break-ins that had happened on the property over the years that it had been abandoned.

Illinois turned the doorknob and swung the frame open. Small splinters of wood fell from the door as it made a loud creaking noise. You and Illinois spared a glance at each other before you spoke, “Well, I’m not going in first, there has to be so much dust in that place,” your mouth fell into a flat line as you tried to hide your panic with a lie.

After Illinois didn’t make a move to walk into the building, you spoke up again. “Are you scared?” You asked, your voice cracking a bit at the end. You cursed yourself in your head. Your plan to appear as fearless as possible might have been a bit flawed. You hadn’t even walked into the hospital yet, and you had goosebumps littering your skin just at the thought of entering.

Illinois broke the silence. “I’m not scared, but if you are, you can hold my hand,” he smiled smugly at you.

“Stop being a fucking prick,” You murmured, grabbing his larger hand in your own quickly before stepping into the building with him. Illinois was awestruck at your boldness. Sure, you two weren’t uncomfortable with touching one another, but it’s not like either of you had gone out of your way to do something so forward.

He pursed his lips together and gripped your hand a bit tighter as he felt it shaking a bit. He liked to poke fun at you sometimes, and being in a haunted building was a great opportunity to do so. But something about the situation made it feel wrong. It seemed like you were truly terrified about what would happen if you stayed in the area. And he hated the way that you nervously glanced around and the way that you tried to hide how shaky your breathing was becoming.

“Hey,” he began. When you didn’t acknowledge him, he started again, “Hey, look at me, honey,” You snapped out of it, jumping a little bit before meeting his gentle gaze. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, I mean it. I know I made all of those jokes about how you’d be too scared to go through with this, but that’s all they were, jokes. If you don’t feel comfortable here, we don’t have to stay.”

His sincerity made you want to cry. You laughed at your silliness and the predicament you were in. You didn’t even believe in ghosts, it was so stupid that you were getting so worked up about the whole situation.

“No. No, I’m okay. It’s so dumb, we can just get on with it. I know how much you were looking forward to this,” you replied. You met his eyes and nodded, further proving your statement.

“If you’re sure, then we’ll go on with it. But the second you feel like it’s too much, just tell me. And I won’t let anything bad happen to you, you know that” He smiled at you. You gave him a sheepish smile back and the both of you made further steps into the building, turning your flashlights on in the dim rooms.

“So, I was thinking we can try to take some pictures in a few rooms, scope the place out a bit. And then we can go see the Death Tunnel and try to contact some of those ghosts I was talking about,” You nodded your head at his plan. He looked at you once more, affirming that you were okay with everything as his thumb brushed against the hand that he was holding.

You felt butterflies in your stomach, a welcome sensation compared to the fear you were feeling only moments ago. Something about the way that Illinois looked at you and the way that he wanted to make sure that you were absolutely okay with the trip made you fall even further in love with him if that was even possible. You don’t even remember when you started to feel that way for the adventurer. It was like you had always known that you’d be able to trust him with everything, that he’d always be there for you and you’d always be there for him.

After taking several pictures inside of the building with the specially made cameras that Illinois had purchased, the two of you sat outside in the truck, viewing the photos that were taken.

”What exactly are we looking for in these?” You asked.

“Bright flashes or little white circles, I think they’re called orbs,” He answered, flipping through a few more pictures.

“There!” You exclaimed, pointing to a small ball of light in the corner of one of the pictures taken in one of the hospital rooms. Though you were still absolutely terrified at everything that was the Waverly Hills Sanatorium, you had to admit that it was exciting being introduced to all of these new and exciting ghost gadgets and facts. Maybe they were real, or maybe you were just finding things that didn’t mean anything. Either way, the experience was becoming much more fun than you had expected.

“It’s kind of pretty,” You said as you looked at the orb in the picture. It had a soft glow around it and it sat underneath the window in the decaying room. None the wiser to you, Illinois was staring at you as you gushed over how cool the picture was. Of course, he was passionate about his work and the things he discovered, but something about the way that you looked so happy felt so much more fascinating and enjoyable to focus on at that moment.

After you ranted for a moment about the picture, you looked up at Illinois, only to find that he was already staring at you with an endearing smile on his face. That same look he had given you on the drive to the motel.

“What?” You asked. “Is there something on my face? A cobweb? I swear, it is so insanely gross in there I wouldn’t be surprised if I had a nest of spiders on me right now.”

“No, no, there’s nothing on your face, you’re fine,” He chuckled. “We should head down the Death Tunnel. I want to try out the ghost box,”

So, you and Illinois began to travel down the short path that led to the tunnel. You had already clarified with the man how far into the tunnel you’d actually be traveling and agreed that going halfway would be far enough. You turned your flashlights on and made your way about 200 feet into the tunnel before stopping in the darkness.

Your hand still gripped Illinois’s tightly, providing a sense of comfort to both of you. Even though being in the dark tunnel proved to be extremely terrifying, knowing that your best friend was there with you helped ease the fear a bit.

He set up the ghost box quickly as the two of you made yourselves comfortable, sitting side by side against one of the walls of the tunnel. You jumped as the static of the ghost box echoed in the tunnel and filled the air.

“What I said still stands, you know. We can leave at any point, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Illinois reassured you.

You looked at him appreciatively and shook your head. “No, I can do this. We’re good,”

He nodded and switched the box to another setting before placing it in the center of the tunnel. A few noises were coming from the static, but you couldn’t make out any words. Your breathing picked up as you wondered what those noises really were. Were they truly ghosts? Was the machine broken? What if the machine was built to make noises on its own? Questions raced through your mind as the two of you finally heard one word.

“Out,” It spoke quietly but firmly. You two looked at each other, confirming that the two of you had heard the same thing. You both stood up, feeling a bit anxious. It spoke the word again. Then again. And again. Illinois picked up the box, fiddling with the settings a bit before you both heard a loud crash at the end of the tunnel. Both of your eyes shot open as wide as possible before the two of you bolted out of the concrete structure as fast as your legs could carry you. Adrenaline pumped through your veins and your feet pounded against the hard ground, echoing on the walls along with Illinois’s tracks behind you. You could still hear the metallic crashing sound at the end of the tunnel as the word, “Out,” echoed over and over again against the walls.

After the longest twenty seconds of your life, you and Illinois finally made it out of the tunnel, pausing shortly before you realized what had just happened.

”The truck, get to the truck,” You breathed out heavily as you began running again. Getting to the truck quickly, you two jumped in and pulled out of the driveway of the sanatorium swiftly. You and Illinois shared panicked glances as you both fought to catch your breath.

“Holy shit, what was that?” You spoke up after a minute.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Illinois replied. He seemed to be almost as freaked out as you as he had the same questions racing through his mind. Few words were spoken between the two of you as you finally made your way back to the motel, the sun setting in the distance. One more night in this place and you’d finally be able to go home. At least you wouldn’t have to visit that terrifying place again.

When you entered your shared room, you anxiously stood in front of the couch that Illinois had thrown himself down on.

“So, let me get this straight,” You started. “I’m going to pretend like we didn’t get verbally assaulted by a ghost, and I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear metal slamming against the wall of a pitch black tunnel at a haunted hospital. That did not happen,” You paced around the room.

Illinois watched you carefully and stood up slowly, to not scare you any further.

“Honey, hey, stop,” He placed his hands on your shoulders to stop you from pacing around the room anymore. “You’re okay, we’re not there anymore. Nothing is going to happen, trust me,”

You calmed down a bit as you looked at him. You let out a deep sigh as you pressed your forehead to his chest, relaxing in his embrace. He wrapped his arms more comfortable around you and pulled you closer.

“I should have had us leave the second that I saw how nervous you were when we got into that building,” Illinois whispered, feeling like part of this was his fault for dragging you along.

“It’s not your fault, Illinois, I promise. I told you I was okay with it. You didn’t do anything wrong. Let’s just stick to finding treasure. No more ghosts, or supernatural shit, alright? I think we find ourselves in near-death situations enough already, there’s no need to mix ghosts in with that,”

Both of you chuckled as he pulled away from you, nodding. “You’re right, I think ending up in monkey heaven is much better than dying at the hands of an angry ghost,”

“Who knew that ghost hunting could be so tiring?” You groaned as you planted yourself face down on the bed. Illinois chuckled at you quietly before making his way towards the bathroom to get himself ready for bed.

You two made yourselves comfortable. You laid on the bed while Illinois remained on the couch. You tossed and turned for nearly an hour. The room was dark, and all of the lights were off, save for the dim lamp that Illinois had opted to keep on near the entrance of the room. Every creak you heard from the walls, and every noise that the neighboring guests made caused a surge of panic to rise in you each time.

“Illinois, are you awake?” You whispered. Nothing but silence filled the room for a moment, leading you to believe that Illinois was already asleep. You turned once more to try and find a new position that would hopefully help you fall asleep before you heard a reply.

“Yeah, I’m up. You can’t sleep either?” Illinois asked groggily. You heard some shuffling around before you replied with a quiet, “No.”

Just as you were about to turn to face him on the couch, you felt a dip in the bed before his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you towards him. You froze up for a moment before relaxing in his arms and letting out a content sigh.

You turned around in his arms, meeting his gaze. You waited for a moment, wondering if you should say anything. Before you could even think, you started speaking.

“You know what’s stupid?” You asked Illinois. He hummed, urging you to continue. “The only time that I felt like everything was really okay today was when you were holding my hand. I don’t know. It was strangely comforting.” You looked away from him as you anticipated his reply. His arms tightened around your waist comfortingly.

“That’s not stupid,” He began. “You know, that was all you. The hand holding. I’ve got to say, I was a bit shocked when you did that. Blatant flirting is usually my thing,” He chuckled.

“What? I, I was not flirting, I was just-” You started, sputtering out nonsense. You were cut off by his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss, his lips brushing yours gently. Once you realized what was happening, you quickly kissed him back, eagerly sealing your lips to his as you wrapped your arms around his neck, one hand tangled in his hair. Illinois chuckled into the kiss before the two of you hesitantly pulled away from each other with grins on your faces.

“You’re cute when you ramble, did you know that?” He mumbled.

You groaned at him while he laughed at your antics and pulled you closer to him, tucking you gently underneath his chin before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

Maybe joining him on these trips wasn’t so bad after all.

#illinois x reader #Illinois #markiplier #markiplier x reader #markiplier egos #markiplier egos x reader #ahwm #ahwm x reader #ahwm illinois #fluff

[ipromiseicanexplain]

Until I Found You - Chapter 1

Notes: darkiplier x reader, I tried to keep it gender neutral. This first chapter is just setting up the story. I'll try update soon to actually get into it.

TW: violence, blood, assault

You woke up on the cold, hard, stony floor of an alleyway. You pushed yourself off the ground and rubbed your eyes. It was dark enough that a few stars were visible but there was still some colour in the sky. You looked around and realised you didn’t recognise anything around you. Your head seemed perfectly clear. You felt fine, but you couldn’t remember very much. You didn’t know where you were or how you got here. There were people dressed in all black with masks over their faces and eyes. You wouldn’t be able to ID any of them. You felt a drop in your stomach as they started stepping closer to you, drawing out small knives and holding them out ready. You looked around for a potential exit but they had you surrounded. Your stomach dropped. There was no way for you to get out of this. One stepped forward in front of the others and started speaking to you in a low gravely voice.

“Y/N. You have to come with us. Now.” You shook your head and stepped a small step back.

“No, no. You- you must have the wrong person.” he chuckled lowly and stepped closer to you again.

There was a stabbing pain in the back of your head and the sound of a glass bottle smashing filled your ears. You fell to the ground and your vision started going out of focus and hazy. Not so hazy that you didn’t notice the flash of yellow in front of you. A massive contrast to the world around it. You thought it was talking to you. It snapped at you and things came into focus again. It was a man. With a pink moustache. He had a yellow button-up shirt, light brown khaki pants, and pink suspenders.

“Hey there friend, nothing to worry about. We’re gonna make sure everything’s alright” One of the other people there started to move towards him but he pulled out a gun and shot them. They fell to the ground and the blood started to seep from underneath them. You looked further down the alley and there was another man fighting your attackers. From what you could see, he was wearing a dark suit. He slashed at someone’s throat with one of his daggers and twisted his body towards you. A small piece of hair fell down in front of his eyes and he paused for a moment before twisting back around to slash at the person again. He had the same face as the man standing in front of you. You looked back at the man who had spoken to you and found that he was staring at you with raised eyebrows, expecting something. Did he ask me something?

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“My name is Wilford Warfstache.”

“What is going on, I- I don’t know where I am and these people! Who are these people” your face was heating up and your heart started to beat faster and faster as you realised how weird this was. Wilford and the other man had continued to fight a lot of the other people there but the last of them ran away. Wilford started to race after them, gesturing with his gun as he ran.

“Wilford. Get them, let's go.” Wilford grabbed my arm and in a split second we were out of the alley and standing in the doorway of a house. A big house. Wilford opened the door for you and bowed at you playfully and gestured for you to enter first.

“They’re back”. There were 6 other men in the living room through the door on the left, and they all had the same face as the two men who came to get you in the alley. There was someone dressed in a doctor’s coat, another like Indiana Jones, someone dressed in a trenchcoat with a bandana over his eyes, one of them was in a dark blue shirt with a ‘G’ on it, another with a black singlet that said ‘bing’, and the final person was in a plain white shirt and black jeans. You were soon acquainted with Dr Iplier, Illinois, The Host, The Jim’s, and Yancy. The Doctor took you into the medbay to check up on how you were doing. You stepped into the sterile white room and the Doctor gestured towards one of the beds and asked you to take a seat. He gently cleaned the wound on your head but luckily you didn’t have a concussion. Other than that, you were a pretty healthy person. After you had been given the all-clear, Dr Iplier left the room and came back with Darkiplier.

“So, you’ll be staying here with us. Any questions?” Darkiplier said as he stepped closer to the bed you were sitting on.

Wilford, Yancy, and Illinois took you around the manor, giving you a tour of where you’d be staying. They finally took you to your room. You were on the same floor as Darkiplier (as well as his study), Wilford, Illinois, and Yancy. The Host, Dr Iplier, and the Jim’s were on the next floor. They explained that they ate dinner together every night, with everyone taking turns to make it (With Wilford making desserts when he wanted to) and had a movie night at least once a month. They left you in your room understanding how tired you would be.

#darkiplier x reader #markiplier egos #fanfic #darkiplier fanfiction

[crazy-ego]

Ask box is open!!

 Guidelines/Rules

I’ll update this with whether requests are open or not at any current time, as well any new rules I find need to be added. Please keep an eye on this post before sending in a request.

Updated: 2/06/2023

Requests are currently: Open

First and foremost: minors DO NOT INTERACT! This is an 18+ blog, you’re not welcome here.

Writing:

My default is female X character, but male and gender neutral requests are perfectly fine to send in.

I don’t write ego x ego, but I will however write ego x reader x ego

Anything to do with watersports, scat, age play, non-con, and A/B/O are huge no’s

I of course reserve the right to say no to any stuff and kinks that I haven’t thought of, and might find I don’t like in the future.

Characters:

Resident Evil:

-Chris Redfeild

-Karl Heisenberg

-Alcina Dimitrescu

-Donna Beniviento

Markiplier Egos:

-Yancy

-Engineer Mark

-Darkiplier

-Googleplier

-Illinois

-Wilford Warfstache

- Abe

- Gunther B Gunnerson

Sonic movies:

-Agent stone

-Ivo Robotnik

-Tom Wachowski 

Kingsmen Movies:

-Harry Hart (Galahad)

-Merlin

-Eggsy

-Agent Whiskey

- Agent Tequila 

Please feel free to ask for other characters, but please make sure they are 18+ as I will not age up characters that are children.

#ask box #ask #markiplier #markiplier egos #markiplier egos fanfiction #sonic fanfiction #sonic #resident evil #resident evil 8 #rules #guidelines

[leighsartworks216]

Scary Movie Night

Wilford Warfstache x gn!reader

Requested by @peachy-is-obsessed:

“A Wilford x reader (imma format this)

It's movie night in the iplier manor and it's Illinois' turn to pick a movie, he picks a horror movie and they move on with the night. For the whole movie the reader doesn't act scared or seem scared but as soon as (both optional) reader goes to either use the bathroom or go to bed they get scared, and I mean like so scared they're like unable to move and speak. Eventually Wilford notices reader gone and goes searching to find them.

Just cute and fluffy, maybe some funny moments in their too.”

I loved this idea so much oml it's literally 4am I've been up for like two hours just writing this I literally couldn't sleep until I had

Warnings: scary movie content but nothing explicit, broken glass (no injuries, it's just broken), panic attack, Wilford being sweet, Dark being a little bitch, oh and swearing

Word Count: 1535

Masterlist

Every Wednesday night in the Iplier Manor was movie night. It felt like a sacred holiday with how the egos treated it - even Dark would show up.

Tonight was Illinois’s night to pick a movie. It was actually pretty rare for him to be around for movie night, as all he did was wander the globe in search of stolen artifacts. To make up for his absence, he picked out a horror film.

Illinois didn’t scare easily, neither did a good half of the other egos, but Wilford thought it would be fun to place a bet on who would be scared. Dark (not wishing to be involved in the betting process) was chosen (against his will) to handle the money and keep tabs on who betted on who.

You were a frequent visitor to the Manor; it was like a second home to you now. You were hired on to help Dark keep the other egos from burning down the entire building by accident. You were fast friends with almost everybody, too, which helped keep the chaotic issues at bay (for the most part).

But you weren’t an ego. You were a mere human. And money wracked up against you like a dam filling with water.

-

The movie started out fine. Wilford insisted on sitting with you in an oversized armchair, and the proximity to someone who couldn’t shut his mouth to stop shit talking the lazy effects of the movie helped ease your nerves a lot. Of course, he was shushed by all the other egos (and threatened by Dark, but that’s usually a given), so the commentary was cut short before you even reached any real spooks.

As demons appeared on screen, murderers murdering people with great splatters of blood, and ghosts jumped in front of the camera like it was a fucking thing to do, you bit your tongue. Your knuckles were white with how hard you were clasping your hands in your lap. Every time you felt your body flinching or jumping at something on screen, you kept playing it off as needing to readjust yourself in the chair. And you weren’t even at the climax of the film yet.

You were determined not to let the other egos see how scared you were. Almost all of them had placed money that you would get scared, and they were right. You didn’t want them to know that they were right. You were supposed to keep an eye on them and stop them from doing crazy things - how were you supposed to convince them that you were up for the job when a few practical effects were making your soul jump from your body?

But, as determined as you were, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. It felt like all the air was being sucked from your lungs. You needed to get out of there. You touched Wilford’s arm to get his attention, gesturing vaguely toward the kitchen with an excuse of getting more popcorn, before you practically sprinted away from the living room.

The kitchen was wide and empty, and it gave you room to breathe. At first. You scrambled through cabinets to find a glass and fill it with water, your hands shaking so much you could barely hold onto anything. You gulped the entire thing down in no time, gasping for more. Your hand slipped as you went to fill the cup again, and time seemed to slow down as you watched it hit the floor and shatter.

It was the final tipping point. You got down on hands and knees, trying to pick up the larger fragments, but a sudden loud scream from the movie a few rooms over made you drop them. You cursed under your breath, sitting back against the kitchen island, unable to breathe deep enough to satisfy your lungs.

How did a stupid movie leave you like this? You’d seen Yandere do scarier shit on a weekly basis, but somehow this dumb movie rattled your nerves enough to leave you a wreck in the kitchen. You hated it. You felt so helpless. The longer you sat on the floor, staring at the mess you made, the more hot tears you could feel down your face, and the more hard sobs wracked through your body. How the hell did Dark hire you in such good conscience? If he saw you now, you’d be fired on the spot.

“Sugar plum?”

Fuck.

“Darling, where’d you go?”

Wilford’s face suddenly peered around the kitchen island, almost startling you. You didn’t dare look at him; you couldn’t. You could almost feel his gaze as it scanned over the glass fragments, as it studied you, curled in on yourself as far as you could be.

You could just picture the pity on his face as he let out a soft, “Oh, sugar plum,” and stepped over the glass to get to you.

Even as he kneeled in front of you, you avoided looking at him. But just his presence seemed to set you off. You could feel your lungs shuttering as more tears rolled down your face. You tried stammering out any words that could explain why you were like this, but nothing coherent came out. Another harsh sob shook your entire body before Wilford pulled you into his arms, into his broad chest.

You thought you would feel constricted being held like this, your head cradled into his shoulder and neck to give you a place to cry. But you actually felt like you could breathe again. Sobs came out softer. They didn’t burn your throat as they fought to escape. No, they simply came and went like an ocean tide.

Wilford hushed you in a sweet voice. His fingers carded through your hair. For a moment, you had a hard time believing that he was a killer.

“Don’t tell Dark,” you’d finally managed to hoarsely whimper out after several minutes of sobbing into his shoulder. You felt bad now, for crying into him, for staining his shirt with your stupid tears.

He shook his head, almost bewildered at the thought. “Of course not, sugar plum.” He pulled your face from his neck, the hand from your hair moving to cup your damp cheeks. His thumb tenderly brushed them away from your eyes. “Why would I tell Darky?”

You found it hard to meet his concerned gaze again. You looked like a wreck. You were not a pretty cryer. “I don’t want him to- to fire me just because I’m scared of some stupid movie.”

“He wouldn’t fire you just for that, gumdrop,” he cooed. “You’d have to do something a lot worse for him to fire you. And even then, I wouldn’t let him! Believe you me, if he ever even thought about getting rid of you, I’d be having a very strongly worded conversation with ol’ Darky!”

You huffed a laugh, looking up at him through wet eyelashes. “Yeah, sure.”

“I would!” He took his hand from your face to gesture wildly, pointing fingers every which-a-way to prove a point. “You’re the best thing to happen to us ‘round here! If you ever got fired, I’d just have to hire you right back! Who else am I gonna pull pranks on Bim with? Certainly not ol’ sour-puss.”

“I’m sure plenty others would pull pranks with you,” you dismissed.

He shook his head, brow furrowed and hair flopping in every direction. “Not like you, sugar plum. C’mon don’t sell yourself short.”

As if suddenly remembering where you were, Wilford took a second to look around the kitchen. He’d forgotten all about the glass shards. Hell, he forgot you were both in the kitchen to begin with.

He huffed indignantly at the mess. “Now let’s clean up this mess.” With a snap of his fingers, the glass was no longer shattered across the floor, but sitting intact on the counter, as though nothing had ever happened to it. He turned back to you with a lopsided grin. “And now for this mess,” he gestured at you, “I say we go upstairs and watch something not scary and eat a bunch of candy. How’s that sound, gumdrop?”

You smiled. “It sounds perfect, Wilford. Thank you.”

-

“Hey, where’d those two go?” Illinois asked once the movie was over, tipping his head toward the armchair both you and Wilford had been squeezed into.

There were murmurs of “I don’t know”s and “Probably went to bed”s.

Bim Trimmer nervously looked around the entire living room. “You don’t think they’re planning another prank, do you?”

“Nah, theys’s probably just gones to bed,” Yancy said, waving your disappearance off. “Now who’s won the bets?”

As Dark dealt with the headache that was everyone arguing over who got scared or not, he sat back into the couch, self-satisfied. From where he sat, he had a perfect view of the kitchen. He’d watched from the corner of his eye as Wilford ducked behind the kitchen island to check on you, and as you both retreated upstairs with endless amounts of candy in your arms.

He knew suggesting the movie to Illinois was a good idea.

-

Little after-note: Wilford didn't place any money on you and even if he had he wouldn't admit to the other egos that you were scared, even if it cost him his money :)

#fanfic #fanfiction #markiplier #markiplier egos #markiplier egos x reader #wilford warfstache #wilford warfstache x reader #darkiplier #bim trimmer #ahwm illinois #illinois #ahwm yancy #yancy #yanderiplier #fluff #hurt/comfort #gender neutral reader #gn reader #x gn reader

[orange-waterfalls]

Imagine flirting with Yancy and Illinois

Yancy x gender neutral!reader and Illinois x gender neutral!reader

@squip-does-art ty for the prompt!

A/N: I just really like this format, ok??? A bit of cursing, so... Rated... G? Probably not but, sure, let's go with G.

Yancy

You visit him every third Sunday, no exceptions

Even if you're sick, you bet your ass is gonna show up anyways

One day you notice Yancy looking a bit sad

You ask him if something is wrong and if he wants to talk about it.

He says yes and no, respectively

You nod and continue talking about your life the past couple of weeks

He nods occasionally, but doesn't seem to be listening

He looks like he's lost in thought

He looks very sad

You sigh and think of way to make his feel better

You widen your eyes for a moment before calling his attention.

"Hm… I could've sworn I was in a museum…"

He tilts his head at you

"Because you're a work of art" 

You wink as you finish your sentence

His face turns red

Not pink, no.

This man looks like a tomato

You start to get worried after about 30 seconds of silence

"Uh… Yancy…"

He snaps back into reality and covers his face with his arms

You frown, thinking you upset him

Then you start hearing giggles from him and you smile

You start telling him every cheesy pick up line you can think of

"Someone call heaven, I think they're missing an angel!"

"Are you from Tennessee? Cause you're the only 10 I see!"

"Life without you is like a broken pencil… it's pointless!"

You go on like this for a couple minutes and his face somehow continues to get darker

You're worried he's gonna pass out

He's still giggling by the time you can't think of anything else

You start laughing, because he's just so adorable

He lifts his head from his arms and looks at you

You look back at him, waiting for him to say something

"Are you a theif?"

You widen your eyes and look at the guards because, yes, you are

You are about to ask why he would ask that when

"cause you stole my heart"

You stare at him before burying your face in your arms and laughing

He laughs too

You two do this for the next couple of visits

The guards get annoyed

Before every visit, you both find or come up with as many pick up lines as you can

You both ask everyone you know, and you have the gift of the internet to look for new ones

Everyone around you is getting sick and tired of you guys

Do you care? Hell no

You two are exchanging pick up lines when

"We would look cute on a wedding cake, don't you think?"

You look to see him laugh because, obviously, it's a joke

He doesn't laugh

You two start dating and have already planned your wedding

Illinois

You were just sick and tired of him flirting all the time

You wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine

You're eating breakfast at an inn you two are staying at one morning

He walks in and makes himself a cup of coffee

"Hey, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

He starts drinking his coffee

"I don't know, did it hurt when you fell for me?

He fucking CHOKES

Someone flirting?? With him??? It's more likely than you think.

He spills half of his drink on the floor

He's coughing his fucking lungs out

You're just sitting there, completely confused.

He eventually stops coughing

You walk over and ask if he's ok

His face is red, and you're not sure if it's from the flirt or the coughing.

He mumbles something about cooling off and walks outside.

You sit, juice in hand, wondering what the FUCK just happened

You try to bring it up later and he repeatedly changes the subject

Timeskip a week or two, you're on another adventure

You're in some ancient ruins, trying to solve puzzles.

He finds a lamp and thinks there might be a genie inside

You stand next to him

"Well, I'm here. What were your other two wishes?"

He flushes and shoves the lamp into your hands, saying "you can have them"

You ask about it later, but he doesn't respond

Timeskip again, a month this time

You two don't talk about the pick up lines, no matter how much you want to

You're walking through a cave, trying to find treasure

You look at his empty hand as you two are walking

"Hey, Illinois? Can you hold something for me?"

"Uh… sure…"

You put your hand in his

You both stop moving completely

He turns red as he retracts his hand and walks faster

You eventually find jewels and gold in a chest, plus a golden mirror, and leave the cave

You two are looking at the bounty, and you pick up the mirror

"Hey, Illinois, wanna see a picture of a beautiful person?"

You hold up the mirror to him.

He stands up

"What are you doing?"

"What? You flirt with me all the time."

"That's different. I'm a… how'd you call it? A "fuckboy". I flirt with everyone. You only flirt with me."

"So… you want me to flirt with other people?"

"No, I just…"

He sighs

"If you don't like me, then don't flirt with me."

You both are quiet.

"Well then, I guess I'll have to keep flirting because I'm crazy about you."

He flushes and he covers his face with his hand, looking to the side as you smile

You two hold hands as you walk back with your treasure

#ahwm #ahwm illinois #ahwm yancy #ahwm x reader #a heist with markiplier #a heist with markiplier yancy #a heist with markiplier illinois #yancy iplier #yancy the prisoner #yancy markiplier #yancy x reader #yancy x male!reader #yancy x female!reader #yancy x gender neutral!reader #illinois iplier #illinois markiplier #illinois x reader #illinois x male!reader #illinois x female!reader #illinois x gender neutral!reader #markiplier

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

AirLock Anon:

oh yeah I have one more if that’s cool? [maybe She/They if you want?]

HC’s on the Egos reacting to being called Papa and Y/n being called mama by a little kid in the middle of a confession?

I think you mentioned something about the kid being Y/N’s (we stan a she/they single parent) so imma include that.

Also unless specified I’ll just choose like 4 random egos

...........

Illinois

Oh shit.

Man’s commitment issues are really being put to the test here. Working up the courage to confess to each other was already hard enough.

“Calling me dad already? I haven’t even asked your mother out yet.” He pats their head, looking to you with a dreamy sigh. “But..that would be quite nice. Adventures get tiring and I wouldn’t mind settling down for once so...alright.”

You just wipe the sweat from your forehead (that you didn’t know existed till rn) like “whew”. At first you thought this would’ve scared him off.

Though you couldn’t blame your kid for wanting a dad already. It’s been too long and they liked listening to all of Illinois’ stories.

You’re just happy he said yes, willing to give love a chance.

Eric

“..I-I’m sorry? Did you just..?”

Your kid tilts their head like “just what? Call you papa? Is that okay?”

You’re a bit flustered that you never got to finish the confession, but Eric was already tearing up during it, and now he’s full-blown sobbing after what they said.

For a moment they worry about him being upset, though once you explain he’s happy to be called that, they smile and hug him alongside you.

This was such a big deal to him, especially knowing he gave up hope of having kids long ago. He literally couldn’t have any even if he wanted to.

But now he realizes they don’t have to necessarily be biological ones.

He swears to be a better dad than Derek ever was.

Dark

This edgelord is kinda shocked your kid sees him as a father figure. Him? The scary, glitching, monochrome entity???

He was actually about to confess to you when they interrupted and accidentally called him “papa”.

They think they’ve upset him as he stares at them, but in reality he’s...quite happy. 

He never entertained the idea before: of having an s/o, or a kid..or just a normal life in general.

Of course, he still wants to hunt down the snake who robbed him of his life. He can’t allow himself to get too distracted.

However, he may allow himself this “moment of self-indulgence” and try to be a good dad. Not the best but he’ll try.

Wilford

At first he chastises them for ruining his “carefully-plotted profession of love” and threatens to rewind time.

But then what they said sinks in and he double-takes like “wuuwHAT??? Y-You..see me as a papa????”

Bro is flabbergasted.

Your kid just shyly nods and Wilford immediately scoops them into a hug. He’s overjoyed at the idea.

Though you jokingly inform him that he didn’t hear your answer to his confession and he whirls around in a panic, still holding your kid.

You just laugh and tell him yes, and he breathes a sigh of relief.

#clanask #airlock anon #iplier egos x reader #illinois x reader #eric derekson x reader #darkiplier x reader #wilford warfstache x reader #female reader #gender neutral reader #headcanons

[weirdlyobsessedwithegos]

Illinois x reader

Anon: illinois and reader (gn or female, i dont mind) just cuddling and being all in love maybe ? 🥺🥺🥰

Reader is gender neutral, just pure fluff and good vibes. Hope you like! <3

Traveling with Illinois is a lot of fun, you love the adventures the two of you go on. You see many things and have several experiences you wouldn’t have had without him, but every so often, the two of you decide to take a little break.

So last night the two of you booked into a fancy hotel in a city neither of you have been in before (even this has to have some adventurous part in it).

You wake to the sun light filtering trough a small gap in the white curtains that frame the window of your room.

The bed is soft beneath you, and though you love camping with Illinois and are quite used to more solid surfaces underneath you, it feels like floating on a cloud, which you won’t complain about.

It also helps that Illinois is curled around you from behind, his arms clutching you close, still asleep, light snores leaving his mouth and brushing against the back of your neck.

You smile, feeling warm and content.

Stretching, you feel the covers slide down slightly, and Illinois shift behinds you as you seem to have waken him, as he brushes a kiss against your shoulder.

“Mornin’.” He drawls, his voice gruff with sleep. You turn around in his arms, noticing with a little laugh that Illinois’s hair is looking extra crazy this morning, seeming to defy gravity. He cracks one eye open, the other hidden by the fluffy pillow

“What’cu laughin’ at this early in the mornin?” You don’t answer him, instead reaching forward and brushing your hands trough his hair, calming it down somewhat. He hums, closing his eyes as you start to massage his scalp.

“Is’ nice.” You hum in return, working your fingers with some pressure, loving this as much as Illinois is.

You stay like this for a few minutes, your hands in his hair with his arms around you, just enjoying the soft morning together.

Shifting one hand, you let it rest on Illinois cheek. He opens his eyes at that, making brief eye contact before shifting slightly so he can kiss the palm of your hand.

“Oh, a romantic.”

“Only for you my treasure.”

“Smooth talker.”

“Oh always, made you fall in love with me at our first meeting didn’t it?” He winks and you roll your eyes at him, poking his side jokingly as he tries to squirm away from your fingers.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” You grin, which he returns in kind. Getting an idea, you poke at his sides again.

“Don’t you dare.” He tries to stay serious, but can’t manage as he tries to move away and you follow him.

“Don’t I dare what?” Illinois moves so he straddles your legs, looking down at you as you just grin up at him.

“You know I can be ticklish.”

“Yes, which makes it fun.” Using surprise and some strength, you manage to flip the two of you, straddling Illinois’s legs as he looks up at you with a stunned look.

You go for his sides again, and he tries to wiggle away, which leads to the two of you half play wrestling, half laughing with each other as you move around on the bed.

You switch who’s on top quite a bit,  sometimes both of you are on your side, but it doesn’t take long for both of you getting a little disoriented where the bed ends and begins.

Both of you fall of the bed with synchronized yelps of surprise, and Illinois grunts as his back collides with the ground, you landing right on top of him.

“Shit sorry, are you okay Illinois?!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll live honey. But I’ll need a kiss to make it all feel better.” Illinois grins at your worry, and you huff at him, but obliges.

The kiss is short, barely a press of lips before you lean back.

“Think of it as payback for tickling me and causing me pain.”

“You know you get all the kisses you want from me for free right? Plus, if I had to pay for any pain I caused you, I would owe you a lot.” You brush against a scar on his shoulder, left by a wooden arrow you had to pull out after he pushed you out of the way of a trap.

“You’re more than welcome to start now.” He grins up at you, one hand on the back of your neck.

“You’re insatiable and unstoppable.”

“Only with you love.” He winks, and you give him another small kiss, which he pouts at. “Is that all I get?”

“While we’re on the floor yes. Lets move back to the bed, and order some really expensive room-service breakfast.” Another kiss, then you get up and pull him up.

The rest of the day is spent paying Illinois back with kisses, while you cuddle in bed, and eat foods that you can’t pronounce the name of.

#illinois x reader #Illinois #ahwm illinois #illinois ahwm #illinois fic #illinois fanfiction #reader insert #gender neutral reader

[regalrain]

Maybe a Illinois x reader with a very easily flustered reader that is an absolute mess for him and just dies over the smallest compliments or signs of affection and is 100% influcing his already so big self confidence? Vkgksmjgjr

Flustered love

Illinois x Gender-neutral!Reader

Warnings: None (but let me know if I should tag some)

Word count: 355

Requests for second part (Open)

“You’re very pretty, you know that, Darlin’~?” Illinois’ voice was low as he spoke, drawing out his words, and though his lips curved in a smirk as you ducked your head with an illegible sound, he pressed on just as gently. “Radiant in a way that outshines the sun, yet you’re impossible to take my eyes off of, Sunshine~”

“Illi—“ Voice cracking, you shook your head rapidly, face buried in your hands. He was always giving you these compliments, yet they seemed effortless for him. Like he didn’t even know just the picture he painted of how important you were, and how despite how he seemed to ponder, they weren’t truly thought of, as being thoughts themselves. Speaking as they came to him. It was enough to drive you breathless. “You— I— M-more-“

“More~?” Puffing up, with his chest sticking out in a sign of pride, Illinois was basically preening like a bird now. Dark brown eyes closed in satisfaction as he soaked up just what you were trying to convey, before he opened them again. Keeping them slightly narrowed as he leaned in close, the scent of damp forest overwhelming as brushed a strand of your hair back and behind your right ear with the back of his large, scarred, and work roughened hand. It was incredibly gentle though, almost like he was barely touching you.

All it did was make you stutter more, face darkened with blush, as he purred to you. An actual, literal purr, in all ways but actually coming from his chest. “While I am attractive, Darlin’~ So very, very attractive~ Maybe more then most people on the planet-“ His smirk grew, twisting as he now gave a small pet to your head, long fingers scratching over your scalp tenderly. “You’ll always be number one in my eyes~”

Chuckling as he backed up, he turned to go head to his office. Hips swaying in that exaggerated walk he held, listening to the way you whined and scrambled to try to ‘correct’ him. You always were his favorite, but he didn’t lie.

You were the most gorgeous being, in his mind.

#sorry I’m trying out the gif thing #only one I can find that kind of fit #Illinois x reader #Illinois x Gender-neutral!reader #romantic #(?) #fanfiction #Markiplier egos #Illinois #Illinois ahwm #ask #magicpotion725 #request #drabble #Regal!writes

[demonsman]

Hi! Could you do a headcannon about Illinois reacting to a gn! reader coming out as an acexual that's a little disgusted about s*x

illinois with an asexual s/o headcanons

hello! i hope i did this justice!

right okay now

coming out to illinois took while, to say the least

he didnt understand it at first.

"you're ace a what now? darlin i think your gonna have to explain it to me please"

once he fully wrapped his head around it, he is your biggest supporter.

if you didn't want to have sex he wasnt going to force you

he wants you to be happy and comfortable around him

he tries his best

he makes sure with what you're comfortable with and once you've drawn that line he will not test it at all

he will never betray your trust like that

he loves you too much for that

and he came to terms and realised that sex isn't the most important thing in a relationship

he's happy and your happy that is all that matters.

#illinois x reader #asexual reader #gender neutral #markiplier egos x reader

[itsyourimaginaryworld]

I Can Be Flirty, Too (Illinois x Gender Neutral!Reader)

Ship: Illinois x GenderNeutral!Reader

Request: could i request one where illinois is the one who falls in love first?? and every time you touch him- like brushing against his hand, nudging him with your shoulder, kissing the wound you just bandaged you for him- makes him into a flustered mess?? and he keeps stumbling over his words around you?? only if you want to!! - @petrified-teeth

Warnings: The word ‘blood’ is in it, that’s pretty much it.

Words: 625

Note: Late as always~ Hope you still enjoy!

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

“Illinois?”

You called into the dark abyss, which only echoed your voice back at you.

You bit your lip. You were an experienced explorer, sure, but still didn’t quite feel safe without your partner around, and who knew what’d happened to him? One moment the two of you were side by side, and the next, you were alone with the silence.

You continued forward, holding out your flashlight ahead of you to light up the way.

“Illinois!” Your voice rang through the air once more and again, you didn’t think it would be answered.

“(Y/N)!” You suddenly heard back from his familiar voice. He sounded in distress, so you picked up your pace and hurried along the tunnel.

“Illinois, where are you?!” you shouted again, then the took a turn around a corner, following the noise.

Your question was answered when before you stood Illinois, standing on the other side of the room, holding his bleeding left arm with his other. His soft gaze averted to you.

“What happened?” you asked, stepping forward to approach him.

“No! Don’t!”

Click.

You suddenly saw out of the corner of your eyes how a part of the wall shot open and blades were fired at you from high speed. In that same second you reacted and just barely dodged them, catching your breath as you pressed against the wall next to Illinois.

“I forgot how good you were at this,” Illinois mumbled. It was kind of sad that he was used to his partners dying, but you weren’t going to bring that up.

“Can’t get rid of me that easy,” you said, and started to take bandages out of your bag. “So tell me, how did the great legendary adventurer Illinois get defeated by a trap?” You sent him a playful smile.

“I- uh, well, the trap-” he stuttered, looking away from your eyes and anywhere else. “I- I didn’t see.”

“Well, your pretty eyes couldn’t have been distracted by me this time, because I wasn’t there,” you winked at him. “Let me see that muscular arm.”

He held out his arm for you, blushing at the flattering compliments. Usually he knew how to smoothly talk his way out of situations, but ever he’d met you, he was on the other end of it.

You were just absolutely stunningly beautiful with a perfect personality, the dream partner, and there was nothing he could do to deny it.

His heart-rate picked up when you brushed your soft fingers against his skin to wrap the bandage around ever so delicately. He smiled at you absently, and you noticed.

“No need to thank me, just don’t wander off again,” you said.

“I- I won’t,” he said. “I won’t leave you ever again, if- if that’s what you want.”

“Not ever?” You laughed, sending him into another episode of getting super flustered. “I’m glad you’ll never leave me, my love.”

He couldn’t tell if you were making a joke, actually flirting, or calling him his love. He didn’t have anything against it. He wanted to kiss you, to feel you close, but he really didn’t know what to do or say right now. It was like he was in heaven.

You kissed his bandage when it was done. Illinois’s stomach felt like it was going to explode from butterflies.

“I- you’re my love, too,” he managed to say with a quiver in his voice.

You kissed his cheek first, but then your lips collided together for the first time. It felt magical and everything Illinois had ever dreamed of, to have you so close. If it had been this easy, he would have done it a long time ago.

“Of course you are,” you smiled after the kiss. “My love, for eternity.”

#illinois x reader #illinois #illinois jones #ahwm illinois #ahwm x reader #illinois x y/n #reader-insert #gender neutral reader #flirty!reader #markiplier #ahwm #a heist with markiplier