#somebody please stop me from making any more fidget nonsense for the love of god!

[captainmarvels]

wicked games [1]

Summary: Sometimes unforeseen plans have a good ending. Sometimes. 

Pairing: CEO!Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 2,282 [oops]

Warnings: Language

A/N: Here’s the first chapter of my CEO series, my friends! This one’s dedicated to @purelyparker and @stvharrington because I’ve been making them suffer with me for the past two or so days - I love you both so much :’)

series masterlist

No one ever said it was going to be easy.

No one ever said it had to be difficult.

Your emotions can get the best of you, if you give them the chance.

Desire.

Need.

The driving forces behind irrational decisions; ones that satisfy the dire craving eating away at you.

How long will it take before the hunger strikes again?

“You’re joking.”

“Dude, c’mon. Please? I’ll buy you breakfast and lunch for the next week if you do this.”

You turned around, leaning against your dresser as you looked at your friend.

“You swear?” Maggie nodded, jumping up with a smile as she walked over to you, pulling you in for a hug.

“I owe you big time, thank you so much. Who knows? Maybe you’ll find yourself a new boy toy!” You both giggled at the nonsense prospect, pulling away as you turned around, heading for the door.

“A girl can only hope, Mags!”

“You’re going, and that’s final.”

“I still don’t see the point, I’m jus-” Tom was cut off with a loud cough from his left. He glanced over, catching his right hand man Harrison shaking his head, silently begging him to shut up. Tom sighed, running a hand through his hair as he faced his father once more.

“You were saying, Thomas?” He raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms, his gaze shifting between Tom and Harrison.

“Nothing, Dad. I’ll show up.”

“Good. And for the sake of this family, please behave. Make connections, don’t show up drunk, the usual. Also,” His father leaned forward, staring intently as he spoke, “Get some new interns. I fired at least ten this past week. Good interns, boys. I didn’t help you build this company for it to go to shit so soon.”

They both murmured words of agreement, saying their goodbyes as they grabbed their coats, not giving Dom a second look as they walked out the door. Once they were in the elevator, Tom let out an exasperated sigh, resting his forehead against the cool glass.

“That could’ve been worse.”

“No, really?” Tom muttered, turning over to face Harrison.

“Do you always have to be an ass to your dad, mate?”

“He’s the ass, Harrison. I only learned from the best. But that’s why I have you - you stop me from trying to kill the old man.” They both chuckled, shaking their heads as they pulled out their phones.

“Cancel everything for tomorrow - I’m not showing up to a stupid gala stressed out. I’d rather enjoy myself than suffer.”

“Ditto. Just don’t get drunk. You’re insufferable, Holland!”

“Says the lightweight!”

You stood facing your mirror, running your hands over the velvet fabric of the dress adorning your figure. It was a dark shade of maroon, traces of gold running across the length of it. You admired the thigh-high slit barely showcasing the gold underskirt that matched the sweetheart neckline, where your favorite necklace sat.

“Stop ogling yourself, loser.”

“Can’t ogle if there’s nothing to ogle at, dumbass.” You quipped, laughing when you met Maggie’s gaze in the mirror.

“Fuck, you’re hot. Where the hell did you get that shit?” She pointed at your outfit as she glanced down at her own.

“My sugar daddy,”

“Oh, fuck you! You better bring somebody home tonight if you’re wearing that, god,” You grabbed one of your clean socks off your dresser, throwing it in her direction as you both laughed.

“Can we go already? My feet are already starting to hurt!”

“This is fancy as shit,” Maggie whispered into your ear as you made your way through the crowded banquet hall in search of anywhere to sit.

“Is your boss here tonight?” You asked, pulling her towards an open bench a few feet away.

“Yeah, I saw him at the bar. This extra credit better get me an A for the rest of the semester, or I’m killing myself, I swear.”

“Shut up, idiot. I need a drink and it’s only been 10 minutes. You want anything?” You gestured  towards the bar, Maggie shaking her head no as she leaned against the wall.

“I hate that you’re older than me, dude. I’m fine with water - I need to stay sober, unfortunately.” You laughed, nodding as you stood, slowly maneuvering your way back into the crowd, your sights set on the bar stocked with what you could only hope to be the highest quality of liquor around.

You were just about to step up to the bar when you took a step too soon, running into a body. You stumbled backwards, your hand reaching out for the counter, only to grab ahold of a stiff shoulder as a hand rested on your back, holding you up.

You let out a shaky sigh, looking up to meet either the blondest idiot or kindest savior on the planet. As soon as you locked eyes with him, you really wish you hadn’t.

“You alright, darling?” His accent cut through your shock like a knife, bringing you back to the moment as you slowly nodded your head, unable to find your voice. He chuckled, grinning as he leaned back, helping you stand upright. “I’m terribly sorry. I wasn’t paying attention, but I’m glad I wasn’t carrying my drink just now.”

You’re still at a loss for words, your body practically pressed up against his, his hand still resting on your back. You could barely reply, making do with a simple smile and shrug as your hands dropped to your sides.

“So, love, what’s a stunning woman like you doing in a place like this?” He grinned, stepping back so he was no longer suffocating you. Tom caught a glimpse of Harrison on the other side of the hall, his eyebrows raised, eyes curious as he gestured to you. Tom made no move to address him, instead looking down to you as you quietly replied.

“One of my friends interns for one of the companies hosting this event. I’m just here to tag along, make her time here less insufferable.”

“Well, you sound like a great friend to have, darling. Do you mind if I ask where you attend school?”

And that was how the next hour or so of your supposedly miserable night went. Back and forth chatter and banter, filled with cheeky smiles and flirty words. You almost forgot about the rest of the world as you stared into this handsome stranger’s gaze, his voice making you crave even more.

“Darling, are you alright?” His question popped the safe bubble you had wrapped yourself in, his gaze flashing concern as he tilted his head.

“Hm? Yes, I’m fine. Why?”

“I just asked you to dance and you didn’t say anything; thought you were trying to come up with an elaborate way to reject me, is all.” He blushed at his own words, smiling as he watched you rest your hand on his, your own smile comforting him.

“You really think I’d say no to you?” You asked jokingly, giggling when he rolled his eyes, taking ahold of your hand as he stood up.

“I wanted to make sure you wanted this, love.” He said over his shoulder, his words lost in the thick, noisy air of the crowded hall. You followed his lead, admiring his curly locks flawlessly gelled back.

Once he reached the dance floor, he kept going. You were about to call out his name when you realized… he had never told you. And neither had you. The two of you had spent almost two hours speaking to one another without pause, and yet, you never bothered to ask the other’s name. Too late now.

He led you out to the massive balcony adorning the outer perimeter of the banquet hall, the cool fall air hitting your exposed skin as you took in the view before you.

“She’s beautiful at night, isn’t she?” You hadn’t noticed that he had let go of your hand and was now at your side, his arm wrapped your waist, his hand resting on your hip.

“She is, if you look at New York from this far away.” He chuckled, his hand gently squeezing your hip before turning you towards him, a cheeky smile dancing on his lips.

“Unfortunately, you’re right. Some just don’t have that remarkable beauty that can be appreciated from any distance, darling.” You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks at his words, your teeth digging into your bottom lip as you simply nodded, training your gaze on the silk tie complementing his white dress shirt.

“You know, there is one question I’ve been wanting to ask you all night,” He whispered, his hand brushing against your jaw, tucking back a loose strand of hair. Your breath hitched, your throat all of a sudden dry as you looked up and met his glimmering eyes.

“What’s that?” You managed to get out the words before your throat closed up, your eyes watching him lean in ever so slowly, his hand gently cupping your cheek.

His lips were only centimeters away from your own when you heard sudden, loud cheers from the hall erupt, the door open, revealing someone.

“Mate, your dad needs you - oh, I’m so-”

“It’s fine, Harrison. I’ll be right there.” Tom dropped his hand, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair, stepping back from you. He smiled at you, squeezing your hand as he adjusted his suit jacket. “I hope to see you soon.” You followed him as he walked back to the door, the other man quickly ushering what could only be an apology as they walked inside, leaving you all alone.

So much for for a fun night.

“Why the fuck are there so many people here?” You asked Maggie as you fidgeted with the cuffs of your blazer.

“One of the youngest CEOs in history is here today, dumbass. You really do need all the help you can get today,”

“Fuck off. What’s this hotshot’s name?” You glanced around the massive crowd in the auditorium, noticing the disparagingly uneven ratio of women to men. “I’m assuming he’s really fucking hot for there to be this many girls here - no one in their sane mind would come to one of these stupid things,”

“Oh yeah, he’s hot. Name’s Tom Holland, and he’s also rich as fuck. They’re probably all here to see if he’ll be their sugar daddy or some shit,” Maggie continued on her spiel about the CEO, but you paid no attention as you studied the crowd, laughing to yourself at the obscene amount of girls checking out and redoing their makeup.

“Hey, don’t be a bitch. You haven’t seen him; otherwise, you’d be like the rest of them!” Maggie hissed in your ear, laughing when you threw a nasty glare at her. Just as you were about to make witty comeback, the microphone static rang around the room, one of the university dean’s standing on the stage.

“Good morning, everyone! It’s refreshing to see so many eager, new faces in the crowd today! We’ve got a full lineup of company presentations for you, but I’d like to allow one of these special presenters to introduce the plan for you, so without further ado, here’s Mr. Tom Holland!”

The auditorium erupts into a massive applause, a few indiscernible cheers from either side as the lights dimmed slightly, a young man stepping out into the spotlight. As soon as he looked up at the crowd, you practically choked.

“Dude, what the fuck, are you okay?” Maggie asked, not even looking at you. You swallowed, your throat somehow dry as you cleared it, ignoring the piercing stare of some of the business students in front of you.

“Yeah, totally, totally fine.” There’s no fucking way.

Tom’s introduction is quick and simple, his accent making every boring word falling from his lips all the more intriguing to everyone in the room. As soon as the lights came on again, you excused yourself, promising Maggie you weren’t about to ditch her, like always. You walked out into the back hall near the stage, your breath coming out in short pants as you tried to calm yourself down.

A CEO? How the fuck did that not come up in conversation last night? Oh my god,

Your internal panicking afforded you a distraction from everything going on around you, making you completely oblivious to the fact that Tom had just stepped out from the backstage of the auditorium, his back to you as he spoke to Harrison.

“How long do I have to stay here? Did he say?”

“Like, an hour max. Mate, hold on - don’t look at me like that! Isn’t that the girl you were with last night? Over there,” Harrison rolled his eyes, forcibly turning Tom by his shoulders to point him in your direction, your overall distressed appearance piquing Tom’s concern.

“Tell them I’ll be right back, Haz.” Tom brushed past a few men as he made his way towards you, his concern growing as soon as he heard the way you were struggling to breathe.

“Darling? Are you okay?” He crouched down in front of you, resting his hands over yours as you met his gaze.

“Holy… what the fuck, dude? CEO? Really?” You leaned back against the wall, Tom slowly rising up as he weakly chuckled at your words, shrugging when you raised an eyebrow. “It just totally slipped your mind to mention the fact you’re the CEO of your own company?” 

Tom shrugged once again, a rosy pink tint shadowing his cheeks as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“You distracted me, beautiful. But before we we were interrupted, I had a question to ask you.”

some tags: @cloverrover @too-cultured-for-your-bs @lovelyttom @fancybasementpersona @justaveryobsessedfangirl @the-fandom-avenger @sleeping-is-nice-reading-is-better @bitchpleaseimfedex @jodieitsjamesfuckingbarnes @marvel-actually @ssweet-empowerment @darlingsteveharrington @bookybuns @tbholland @retroasgardian @hufflepuffholland @loverholland @parkerroos 

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #ceo!tom holland #ceo!tom holland x reader #ceo!tom #ceo!tom holland smut #tom smut #tom x you #ceo!tom x you

[not-another-imagine-blog]

Extraction (William Karlsson)

justapieceofsimstrash said:

hi friend! I’m requesting a monstrously fluffy fic for my friend who is recovoring from getting her wisdom teeth taken out. but it can be any plot, as long as it’s with William Karlsson

Word count: 1454

Author’s note: I really hope this has the adequate amount of fluff in it. 

It started with an ache.

You woke up one morning with a sore mouth, but thought nothing of it, dismissing it as just your body responding to the weather by making you pay for it. You were a little more concerned when it became painful to eat later in the day, but shook it off, not wanting to make it a problem.

When you woke up at four in the morning crying in pain, however, you decided you should probably see somebody about your pain. This, of course, led your overprotective best friend William to drive over to your house at 7:30 in the morning to take you to the first open dentist you could find on Google. Sitting in the passenger seat of your extremely attractive best friend’s car, cradling your mouth in pain and just barely being able to make sounds of acknowledgment to continue the very much one-sided conversation, is not one of your finest moments.

With the diagnosis being infected wisdom teeth requiring immediate removal, you weren’t really sure what to do. You had only just moved to Las Vegas three months ago for, coincidentally, a position with the Vegas Golden Knights, which is how you met William. You didn’t really know anybody in town yet, so you had resigned yourself to just wait out the pain until your closest family could get here when, to your surprise, William looks at you like you’re stupid and tells you that he’ll stay with you.

The next thing you remember is sitting in a reclined chair. Your mouth feels funny, and you poke your tongue around, your eyes widening in alarm when you feel something fuzzy in your mouth. Your hand reaches up to your face to investigate before it gets gently pulled down. You look over, seeing William sitting next to you.

“Hi, (Y/N).” William says softly, smiling at you as he brushes a lock of your hair behind your ear. Your heart flutters softly at the gesture before your inner voice snaps at you to stop. He’s your best friend, that’s it, you chastise yourself.

“What happened?” You ask, your words coming out garbled.

“You got your wisdom teeth taken out, remember?” You think for a moment, an image of the day’s earlier events finally coming to your mind.

“That’s all they took out, right?” For some reason, you’re wary of what, exactly, these doctors did. William laughs, nodding.

“Yep. Four wisdom teeth, that’s it.” You narrow your eyes and nod slowly, still not really believing him. You’re interrupted by a nurse walking in and talking to William about boring post-op stuff. You fidget with the medical tape on your hand from where your I.V. was, waiting for the all-clear so that you can go and get something to drink, as you’ve suddenly realized how dry the cotton is making your mouth. Finally, William turns to you as the nurse brings in a wheelchair.

“C’mon, (Y/N), let’s get you in the chair.” You look down at your legs, and then to the chair, and then back to your legs.

“Why can’t I walk?” You ask indignantly, crossing your arms across your chest.

“It’s policy, ma’am.” The nurse speaks up, smiling at you. After a long pause, you finally let William help you up and into the wheelchair, with you not admitting that you actually do need the chair. At the main door, you finally decide that you’re good to go, standing up abruptly. This doesn’t work out for you, your legs giving out. William lunges forward and catches you, hauling you up and sliding a strong arm around you to bear your weight.

“God, that was hot.” You say before you can stop yourself. William looks at you with wide eyes before laughing loudly and leading you to his car. He helps you get settled into the passenger seat, with you repeatedly buckling and unbuckling the seatbelt, taking a particular interest in the noise it makes.

“Where are we going now? Do you have a hockey game tonight?” You gasp and lean forward, looking at William. “Can I play?” William lays a hand on your knee, trying to hide his smile.

“No, I don’t have a game tonight. I’m all yours.” You decide to try and get the damn cotton out of your mouth, snaking your hand up and opening your mouth, reaching in to grab the gauze. William looks at you in alarm, grabbing your wrist and yanking your arm back down to your lap as you whine.

“What are you doing?”

“You can’t take the cotton out of your mouth yet, you’ll start bleeding.” You huff and stare out the front window.

“Well maybe I wanna start bleeding.” You mutter bitterly.

“No, you don’t.” William says patiently. For some reason, the anesthesia is making your mind go a mile-a-minute, so you’re on the next subject before you can really think about the previous one.

“Willy, I’m thirsty!” You say dramatically, licking your lips for extra effect.

“After we get you home, I’m gonna go get your medicine and get you something to drink.” You feel your eyes water at the sentiment.

“You’re just so damn nice. As you can assume, I’m not really able to drive at the moment.” You say very solemnly, William laughing under his breath. You eventually reach your apartment, and William helps you through the process of getting to the door, with you babbling nonsense the entire way. In addition to have a very fast mind, anesthetic also takes away your filter, something which you’re sure you’re going to regret. The two of you stand in the threshold, debating your next moves.

“Bed or couch?” William asks. You look to him, a sly smile on your face as you wiggle your eyebrows.

“Baby, you can have me anywhere.” You say in what you assume is a sultry tone. William goes a bright red as he bites his lip, a squeak of a laugh leaving his mouth.

“As...appealing as that sounds, you just had surgery. I’m not a doctor, but I’m pretty sure that’s on the list of things you’re not supposed to do after surgery.” You nod wisely, as this is the obvious answer.

“Bed, please. I have a lot of fluffy blankets in bed.” William leads you to bed and gets you settled under the blankets as you sigh happily, snuggling in.

“Do you need anything? Any medicine?” You shake your head, closing your eyes.

“Can you sit next to me?” You mutter, trying to get comfy as the anesthesia high finally starts to wear off. William considers for a moment, standing at the foot of your bed. You can almost see the inner debate he’s having with himself before he slips his shoes off and sits next to you. You curl into his side as William wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer.

“Thank you for coming with me today.” You say quietly, not opening your eyes and instead choosing to listen to William’s steady heartbeat.

“Of course, (Y/N). I’ll always be there when you need me.” You’re silent for a moment, knowing what you need to do. You open your eyes and glance up at William, who’s looking down at you already.

“I need to say this before the anesthesia wears off and I lose my fearlessness. William, I like you. And, yes, I mean as a friend, but I also like you as more than a friend. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner, and I wish I wasn’t so scared of you not feeling the same or ruining our friendship.” William still hasn’t responded, biting his lip instead, so you continue. “If you don’t feel the same, don’t worry, we can just play it off as one of the many dumb things I’ve said and done today.” You take a deep breath after saying what you needed to say, closing your eyes again.

You open your eyes when you feel William shaking your shoulder. “I feel the same way, and I’m upset that it took you having emergency surgery for me to tell you this. You’re funny, and smart, and I love how you have different smiles for every situation. And if you do remember this conversation after the anesthesia wears off, then that’s great, but if not, then I’ll just get to sound like the guy who admitted his feelings first.” You smile and sigh contentedly, getting what you wanted out of the conversation. You finally realize how tired you are and let yourself drift off to sleep.

“And, (Y/N)?” You hum, letting him know you’re listening. “After you recover, I’ll totally take you up on your earlier offer.”

#william karlsson #william karlsson imagine #vegas golden knights #vegas golden knights imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fanfiction #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction

[spookyscarydarky]

Calm Down, Little One

“Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore”?

Thank you for the prompt @juju-on-that-yeet!  Hope you guys enjoy this one; contains some descriptions of gore and violence (it has Yandere in it, of course it does) This is Dark and Yanderiplier - centric!

Despite his history of bloodshed and chaos, Yanderiplier was a sweetheart.

He had been hard to accept into the group, at first; a majority of the egos were terrified to have another mentally unstable ego.  Wilford was a handful already, not including Dark’s constant scheming and the Googles strategizing mass destruction.  They didn’t need nor want another dangerous ego in the building.

However, Yan’s somewhat innocent and youthful charm managed to win them all over one by one.  He loved helping Chef in the kitchen, he comforted Art when he became overwhelmed by “the red man”, and he even sat down with the Host every now and then to listen to one of his many stories.  He was so affectionate and kindhearted, and they often forgot of his impulsive and deadly nature.  It almost always shocked them when he would come back from school sometimes covered with blood and a smile.  He doesn’t explain whose blood it is, or how exactly it got there; the egos can only assume that somebody at school had gotten in the way of him and his newest Senpai.  

Yan didn’t talk about his school too often.  His grades were almost the highest in his class, at least that’s what Dr. Iplier said since he was the one who kept track of the younger’s progress.  He sometimes stayed late for band practice, though many of them theorized that this was when he killed his so-called “rivals.”  Overall, his high school experience was going pretty well, despite being who and what he was.  

Wilford had been the first to point out that Yan never mentioned having any friends.

“He never talks about being with anyone at school, don’t you think it’s a bit strange for him to not have any friends?  What kind of high schooler doesn’t have friends?” Wilford was talking to Dark one day after another group meeting.  It was, in all honesty, a boring meeting; they went over a couple of important topics, but none that would help them take over the channel.  One of those topics happened to be whether they should pull Yan out of school or not.  This was a reoccurring topic since having one of them being away from the building for so long on the daily basis made them restless and worried.  The only reason they let him go to school was because that’s what his character is: a school-girl, or a school-boy technically.  Taking him out the educational environment would probably cause more problems than they could handle.

“Yandere is an unstable serial killer, much like yourself Wil.  He shouldn’t be in school in the first place, much less be making friends.  We’re becoming reckless.” Wilford rolled his eyes and sat down on the table in front of Dark’s chair; he crossed his arms and stared down at the monochromatic ego.

“Oh please, Yan’s harmless.  He just gets a little touchy every now and then, much like yourself Darky.  By the way, Bim wanted me to remind you it’s your turn to go pick him up from school.  The Googles say he isn’t answering his phone, so good luck finding him.”  Dark glared as Wilford teleported out of the meeting room, leaving him to growl in anger to himself.  However, he quickly composed himself before he teleported himself to Yan’s school through the use of his aura.

He appeared through one of the shadows against the side of the main building.  It was a basic high school, not nearly as fancy or extravagant as the school from the game he was based on.

The building’s walls were graffitied, the sidewalks were chipped and broken.  Everything about this school just seemed so…dirty.

God, he hated this place.

But he came for a reason; find Yandere as quickly as possible so he didn’t have to stay another minute in this filth hole.  He remained hidden in the shadows as he reached out with his aura in search of the younger ego.  It took him a while, but he eventually found Yandere in the band room.  Dark frowned at the sudden emotion that hit him; something was wrong with Yandere.  When he reached out for him Dark could feel the pure rage and frustration the younger ego was subconsciously emitting; hell, Dark could probably taste the blood that he knew the ego was spilling at this very moment.  

Yandere was killing someone, and Dark was more than interested.

He was surprised, and slightly impressed, at what he saw when he teleported himself to the band room.  There were three bodies scattered in the semi-large room, each in their own pool of blood.  The corpses of the high schoolers were covered from head to toe with cuts, gashes and bruises.  He could see a few broken bones piercing through their skin; some had their arms and legs facing unnatural directions.  The smell alone would have been enough to make him gag, but he was used to the smell of death and decay.  In all honesty, he was unbothered by the gore.

No, what bothered him was seeing Yandere repeatedly stabbing a corpse in the middle of the band room.  The younger ego didn’t seem to have even noticed his presence; he was far too focused on ripping apart his dead schoolmate.  He was yelling nonsense at the corpse, hissing and growling frantically as he continued to stab the boy in his arms, his chest, wherever he could reach.  Yandere’s entire body was covered with blood, and his form shook spastically as he eventually stabbed the knife into the boy’s skull and stopped.

Dark watched with intrigue as the unstable ego looked down at his blood-soaked hands, almost as if in awe of the blood that soaked his hands.  He was taken aback when Yandere suddenly screamed out in anguish and buried his face into his hands. Sobs racked the younger’s body as he violently twitched over the corpse.  The older ego stepped forward silently as he observed Yandere break down over the dead body.  

“Yandere.  What is the meaning of this?”

“They called me CRAZY!” Yandere suddenly turned on Dark, chest heaving and fingers fidgeting restlessly.  His crimson hair hung over his face and covered his right eye from view, leaving Dark with the image of a truly unstable Yandere.  There was something familiar in the fury of his expression, and the tear tracks that shone on his face through the blood.  Dark tilted his head lazily to the side, and Yandere knew that meant Dark would let him speak with his full attention.

“They called me crazy.  Th-They called me crazy, and useless, and stupid.  They made fun of my clothes, they were mocking me!  They called me a MONSTER!”  Yandere was yelling towards the end of it, and he sharply turned back to the body on the ground next to him.  He ripped the knife out of the boy’s skull, only to ram it brutally back in with another pained sob.

And Dark…Dark didn’t know what to say.  Moments of his life flashed by suddenly as he remembered when he was only a part of an idea, not whole enough to be considered an ego.  He remembers the loneliness, the confusion, the sadness, the anger.  When it was only him against everything, trying to figure out what he was and why he was here. The disgust and fear from Mark’s fans when he first started appearing on the channel; yes there was admiration, but that was overwhelmed by distrust and hostility.  Over the years more egos showed up and he gradually developed into one of the strongest egos of the channel.  And though he was admired and respected by most, he could still see and feel the hatred that many held for him because of who and what he was.  

He knew what it felt like to be called crazy.  He knew what it felt like to be mocked.  He knew exactly what it felt like to be called a monster.  

His heart ached in a way it hasn’t in years, and he stared down at Yandere wistfully.  Had he looked this pathetic and heart broken all those years ago?  Had he been as unhinged as Yandere is now?  He looked down at the ego and saw…himself, when he was broken and scared and hurt.  Yes, he and Yandere were two different egos; two different characters with two different origins.  But they were the same, in a sense.

He walked closer until he could put his hand on Yandere’s shoulder.  The smaller ego flinched aggressively, clearly not expecting any form of contact from Dark of all people.  He turned and growled at the older ego, but Dark only smiled in understanding.

“Calm down, little one, they can’t hurt you anymore.  Let’s go home, Yan.” Yandere blinked at Dark’s words; from what he knew of Dark from past experiences and stories from the older egos, this was out of character for Dark.  Yes, he’s always respected Dark, but he knew that Dark rarely treated someone else with kindness.  However, there was something soothing about the smile, and Yandere found himself slowly standing up.  The darker ego was startled when Yandere suddenly launched at him, arms wrapping tightly around him and face buried in his chest.  He was disgusted by the blood and tears smeared on his suit, but he eventually relaxed and petted Yandere’s head fondly.

“I’ll take care of this mess, just clean up as soon as we’re home, understand?” Yandere stepped back from Dark, wiping at the tears and blood and his face as he nodded.  The red-head smiled and grabbed Dark’s hand so they could be teleported back to their building.  He looked up at Dark gratefully as they walked through the halls, and Dark was happy that they didn’t bump into another ego who would question Dark’s odd behavior or Yan’s appearance.

Dark glanced down at Yandere when a thought occurred to him.  “I am surprised that this incident wasn’t over your latest infatuation.”  Yandere let out another giggle as he swung their hands between them while they continued their walk; Dark stared down at their hands with amusement.  “That was the boy.”

“Hm?”

“That boy I was with when you came in.  That was Senpai…but I think I know who my new Senpai is.” Yandere stared shyly down at their joined hands, and Dark couldn’t help but smile at the younger ego’s flushed face.  This was going to be interesting.

#please reblog or like! #if you enjoyed reading #it helps spread it around! #:D #yanderiplier #yandere #darkiplier #dark #wilford #wilford warfstache #the other egos are mentioned but not shown #angst isn't my strong suit #neither is writing about gore #but i tried #hope you like it! #fanfiction #markiplier