You were having another bad day. It was the usual. You woke up to your father yelling at you for something you don't even recall doing. You missed your bus and had to run to school, making you late. You left your homework at home, and had to do it all again. The bullies decided to use you as a punching bag again. So, it was like most days.
You opened the front door and walked in, trying to stay silent. If your dad was home, which was likely, you didn't want to deal with him yelling at you again. You silently shut the door and tried to make a beeline to your room.
"(Y/N), come here, now!" Your father yelled. Crap. You slowly walked into the kitchen, where he stood next to a broken blender. He pointed at it, his eyes glaring into your soul.
"Did you do this?" He asked quietly, his voice burning with anger. You shook your head.
"No, Dad" You answered truthfully; he had probably done it drunkenly, and forgot, as he usually had when he blamed you for breaking anything.
"Well, I didn't do it, and you are the only other person whose been in this house" He retorted, walking towards you.
"I dunno Dad, maybe it was ghosts-"
smack
You fell to the ground, holding your face in your hand. Here we go again.
"DON'T LIE TO ME (Y/N)" He screamed, staring down at you, his hand raised to hit you again. You dodged, jumping of the ground.
"Why should I listen to you!?" You yelled back, running towards your room. He didn't follow you; you knew he wouldn't, he'd just scream.
"BECAUSE THIS IS MY HOUSE, AND WHILE YOU LIVE IN IT YOU WILL OBEY MY EVERY ORDER, YOU HEAR ME!?" He shouted from the other end of the house. You slammed your bedroom door, and sat with your back to it. You held your knee's up to your chest, and cried. You just wanted to be happy. Make some friends. Live normally.
But no one ever talked to you at school, even if you tried to start a conversation. Your dad was cruel, and your mom had left when you were a baby, and you never knew where she went.
You decided you'd had enough. You wiped the tears from your face and stood up. You were leaving. Now. before your life got worse.
You grabbed your school bag, and threw all of your school books out of it; you wouldn't need them now. You went through your clothes and put as many in your bag as your could fit. You also grabbed a box plushy off of your bed; Tiny box Tim. It was the only thing your Dad ever let you buy, other than clothes, only because you kept begging until he caved in. You carefully placed him in your bag, and zipped it up. You had nothing else to take with you; no photo's with happy memories, no other items to remind you of anyone.
You walked out of your room, and towards the front door. Just as you grabbed the handle, you felt a pair of eyes watching from behind you.
"Where are you going, (Y/N)?" Your Dad asked you, his voice scarily calm. You stopped where you stood, trying not to shake.
"Just for a walk..." You lied, turning the door handle.
"With your bag?" He questioned suspiciously. He was now right behind you, reaching his hand out to grab your shoulder. You turned and kicked him. He fell back, a look of shock on his face. You turned and ran out the door.
It was starting to get dark outside, no one would see you if you needed help. You kept running, before you felt a pair of hands grab you, and pull you into an alleyway; your house was in the middle of town. Your Dad pinned you to the wall, staring at you with rage and hatred. He punched you in the stomach, and you felt all of the air get knocked out of you.
"You will not leave me. Not now, not ever" Your Dad growled, pulling a knife out of his pocket. Fear fell over your like a wave, and tears fell down your face.
"P-please, Dad, S-stop-"
"HEY! LEAVE THE KID ALONE!"
You turned your head to where the voice came from, and gasped. You recognized this man too well; his pink mustache, his matching hair, his suspenders. This had to be some weird dream. You watched as Wilford Warfstahce walked quickly up to you and your Father.
"Leave now, and no one gets hurt" Your Dad warned Wilford. Wilford just laughed.
"I'm afraid that isn't an option"
Your Dad removed his hands from you, and instead jumped at Wilford. The two men started punching each other. You just sat there and watched in shock; Wilford Warfstache, someone you didn't think even existed, was fighting your Dad. Your Dad had Wilford pinned down, and had the knife he was holding aimed at Wilford's heart. You wanted to stop him, to scream for help, do anything to stop him killing Wilford; but you were completely frozen, unable to do anything.
"I didn't want to have to do this, especially not in front of a kid.... but you leave me no choice" Wilford said. He looked at you apologetically, before pulling a gun from his pocket. Before you could even react, he fired it, and your Dad fell to the ground, blood pouring from his head. You cupped your hands to your mouth, trying not to scream. Instead you quietly sobbed. You heard footsteps coming towards you, and looked up. Wilford was knelt down in front of you, staring at you sadly.
"I..... I'm so sorry you had to see that" He whispered softly. He put the hand that didn't have blood on it on your shoulder. You didn't move back, you didn't even react; you weren't sure how to react. "What's your name?"
"(Y/N)" You answered quietly.
"That's a nice name. How old are you?"
"T-Twelve..." Wilford looked down at your bag, which was laying by your side. He noticed the large red "M" with a pink mustache under it that you had drawn on your bag with Marker a few months ago, and he chuckled.
"Well, I think you know who I am" He said, and you nodded. He then looked at you again, smiling softly.
"Do you have anywhere to go?" His voice was warm, and quiet. You shook your head. Wilford nodded sadly in response. "Well, how about you stay at my place for a while? I understand if you don't want to, though"
You were slightly shocked. You had always imagined being taken away from your home by Mark or Jack or anyone else you watched, to live with them. But you never expected it to actually happen, and definitely not with an alter ego. Still, you nodded; any home was better then none, even if you were going to the home of the person you just watched kill someone. You were not going back to your home.
"Okay then" Said Wilford, helping you stand up. You grabbed your bag and slung it around your shoulder. "Hold on tight (Y/N)" You obeyed, grabbing his arm tightly.
You felt your feet leave the ground, and the world around you seemed to disappear.
Okay, first chapter done! I had read a story where the reader was adopted by Dark, and got inspired to write this. There will not be any romance between the egos or Mark and the reader (But there will likely be some shipping with the egos XD) Until then, hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll see you next chapter.
YOU ARE READING
Adopted by Egos (Markiplier Egos x Child Reader) (ON HIATUS)
FanfictionYou hated your life. At the age of twelve, you had no friends, your father never loved or cared for you, and you were treated like dirt everywhere you went. You wanted that pain to end, to have a better life, with friends and a real family who cared...