#'wilford warfstache would dance to this'

[that-damn-fouth-chaosemerald]

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

—❢—

×A/N×

Hey! So I'm here with some Darkstache headcanons because I love them!🥺💕

It's a little different than my other stuff, but I hope it's not problem! ^^"

It was really fun to made this, I loved it! ^^

If you have request, feel free to write me! :D

×❢ About my work ❢×

So much fluff! Bl (boylove), Dark and Wilford in a relationship, and they are so sweet and gentle each other, and believe me, there's really so much fluff :), Dark is coffe addicted and there's some cute drunk Wilford stuff

Fandom: Markiplier Cinematic Universe

Character(s): Wilford Warfstache, Darkiplier

Ship: Darkstache (Darkiplier/Wilford Warfstache)

—❢ー

𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈: Say You Won't Let Go by James Arthur

“I met you in the dark, you lit me up You made me feel as though I was enough We danced the night away, We drank too much”

• Wilford is taller than Dark

• Dark is usally very uncomfortable with touches and Wilford knows it

• And because of that he very gentle with him

• As I wrote, Dark is uncomfortable with touches, but Wilford's gentle touches are comforting him

• Wilford is usally touches or fondles Dark's hands, when Dark is sleeping he fondles his face and kisses his neck gently

• They sleep in one bed, because when Wilford is around Dark, he feels comforted

• They usally don't talk in public

• It's like they don't even know each other

• But while that, Wilford still looks ot for him

• Wilford doesn't seem like this type of person, but he is very protective In the morning, he greets Dark with a cup of coffe

• As wake up, Wilford fondles Dark's hair gently while he whispers some words to him

• "Good morning, Darkling." Wilford smiles at him kindly as Dark slowly opens his eyes.

• When Dark can't sleep, he usally walks out in the kitchen

• A few minutes later, Wilford wakes up too and follows Dark and he hugs him from behind

• Dark doesn't jumps of the touches any more, because he used to Wilford's warm touches

• Dark doesn't like surprise kisses, but when Wil in a bad mood, he gives him one

• After the surprise kiss, Wilford smiles again

• And when his love is happy, Dark is happy too

• It's happens rarely, but when Wilford is drunk, he wants to hug Dark forever

• "I missed you so much, Darkling." Wilford comes into the room and he hugs Dark from behind before he could fall. "My beautiful sunshine, I love you so much!" he gives a warm kiss on Dark's neck.

"Are you drunk?" Dark looks up at him as he tries to push Wilford away.

"No." he says as he hugs Dark more tightly, so he can't push him away. If he would be a good liar, Dark could still figure out his lie.

"Don't lie to me, Wil." he says as Wilford kisses his neck gently. "You have vodka smell."

"Maybe, but your smell amazing and lovely as always." he breathes Dark's fragrance deeply. "Do you use new fragrance, Sweetheart?"

Dark's chuckles silently as he starts to lead him to the bathroom. "Take a shower, after that please go straight to bed." he closes the door but before he could do it Wilford grabs his hand.

"Don't leave me, Dark! At least take a shower with me." he starts to pull Dark inside.

"Wilford–"

"Please!"

Dark sighs tiredly as he looks in Wilford's eyes.

"Okay." he says as he steps inside the bathroom.

• Sometimes Wilford just goes to Dark and say to him "I love you" randomly

• Dark often smiles because of that

• While Dark is reading next to the fireplace, Wilford is usally shooting outside

• Sometimes Wilford grabs Dark's tight gently and dancing with him slowly

• Usally Dark blushing more often

• "You are so cute." Wilford smiles at him as he fondles his hand. Dark doesn't respond, but his face starts to burn better.

• When Wilford wears necktie, Dark helps him to bind it correctly

• On one day, Dark usally drinks 5 cup of coffe (or more 0.0)

• Dark usally hugs Wilford when he is sleeping

• They have very, very different music taste…

• But sometimes Wilford just listen Dark's songs with him

• Wilford's phone wallpaper is a picture of Dark

• There are some sweet nicknames for each other (•v•)

• For Dark from Wilford:

• Dark, Darkling, Darling, Sunshine, Sweetheart, Babe, Beautiful, Dear, Handsome, Honey

• Well… Dark doesn't really gives nicknames to his partner, but there's some of them

• For Wilford from Dark:

• Wil, Sunshine, Darling, Love, Babe, Lover boy, Dear, Sharpshooter

[leighsartworks216]

Oh, if it’s songs you need to listen to, then boy howdy, I got a request for you!

In lieu of the absolute tragedy I’ve asked for in the past, perhaps we could do a Warfstache x Reader based on Livin’ It Up On Top where the reader is still the DA, but it’s more of a happier piece where the DA returns to the egos after each of Mark’s adventures, and Warfstache heads the celebration for it?

~ 🌺

I am SO sorry this took so long. My brain unexpectedly switched from hyperfixating on egos to like 4 different fandoms and it hasn't switched back to egos yet

This isn't really based on the song (I couldn't get into it sorry) but you've been waiting so so long and my brain is kinda mush so here's headcanons on Wilf welcoming you back home after an adventure w Mark instead

Warnings: mentions of food and drink but it's not specified what

Masterlist

AO3

Acting as a main character in one of Mark’s stories is exhausting

Esp when you weren’t trained to be an actor

But you weren’t really an acting DA anymore after “the incident we don’t talk about”, so Mark dragging you along on make believe adventures was the best option

Sometimes you’d be gone for a week, other times you’d be gone for months

(One time you were gone for a whole year)

When you would be back was always relayed to the Egos, but sometimes Wilford knew before anybody else

They would get the message you’re returning tomorrow and Wilford has already been planning for a week off a “hunch”

He always makes sure your favorite food is prepared - everything from snacks to dessert

He sets up banners and streamers and large stereos, usually with help from the Jims

The moment you step into the door, you’re greeted with your favorite music, favorite food and drinks, and the man who planned it all pulling you into his arms in a bone-crushing hug

Wilf always calls you cute little nicknames too like “sugarplum”, “sweetheart”, etc etc

When you’re finally released from the hug, he always asks how the adventure was and gave you absolute free reign to rant about Actor to him

All the while he’s looking you up and down, making sure you’re not hurt or actually too tired to have a party

He doesn’t even know he does it, he’s brimming with too much energy to notice

You’re never hurt, thankfully (God knows what he would do to Actor if you were)

But if he sees you’re too tired for the party he set up, he slings an arm around your shoulders and in a snap you’re both upstairs in your room, already dressed in PJs

The food and drinks (or maybe a copy of them? You still weren’t sure) also managed to find their way spread along your desk

Wilf would act as a little servant, bringing you drinks and food (if you wanted any) and making sure you were totally comfortable

He always beelines right for the dessert, cursed with the world’s worst sweet tooth

And you’ll hang out, mindlessly talking about anything and everything you missed or experienced, sometimes sharing bites of each other’s food

Everybody else (who cared to take part in the celebration) could rock it up downstairs all the while you relaxed upstairs

If you weren’t too tired from your long excursion, Wilf would drag you along into the party

He’d reintroduce everyone like you were meeting them for the first time, but everyone would play along and welcome you back

You’d have to say hi to Dark later; he hates parties of any kind, and Wilford can only drag him into one so many times

Some of the egos would give you hugs, but if Wilford thought they were lingering too long, he’d drag you to the next person and glare at whoever the offender was (He’s jealous shh don’t tell him)

You could eat, drink, dance, whatever until the sun came up

But Wilford would always stick close by, prepared to carry you upstairs and tuck you in when the exhaustion finally hit

Because no matter how much he loves parties, he loves you more

---

Tag List:

@writeawaythepain

@hyperfixat

@cryptidjester

@your-voice-is-mellifluous

[weirdmixofweirdness]

Happy

TW: Gun, Implied death/murder, Blood, Slight gore

It was a rare sight to see Darkiplier smile. In fact, seeing him in any emotional state at all was relatively new, even to Warfstache. Especially to Warfstache. Despite all efforts, the reporter could never seem to make Dark even crack a smile (though he still tried again and again every day). Now, however, the usually numb-looking being was chatting with the others, making small talk, smiling, chuckling. Their skin even looked alive. It made them look like…someone else, though as to who, he couldn’t put his finger on. All he knew was that they wore the face of an old friend, one far older than the friend they usually were.

 Mayhaps, he woke up in another dimension again. With how jumbled everything was, it could have very well been the case. No use questioning how. Apparently, while thinking, his eyes remained on Dark. The now human-looking being moved their head as if to say ‘come over here.’ Who was Wilford to refuse an invitation like that? They were friends, after all. Sure, Dark didn’t always react fondly to his ideas. Well, to be honest, they never did; but friends don’t always agree, right? The reporter made his way to Dark. People around him made way for him. They stared at him, as he went, with expressionless faces. Their gazes followed Warfstache, even when he reached his friend. 

“You know, Will,” Dark began, though, it didn’t sound like Dark at all. It was lighter, softer. A cadence he knew from somewhere.

“If you wanted to speak with me, you could have asked,” he said with a soft smile. 

“You know I prefer to play the long game, ol’ boy,” Wilford’s voice came out different, less slurred than usual. He didn’t question it, though. Every now and then, his voice would slip into its former pattern. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, though it still felt odd whenever it happened.  

“It’s always games with you,” Dam-Dark chuckles, his smile seeming to widen. 

“They could get you in trouble one day, you know,” their voice was a playful warning, laced with warmth. A kind of warmth that could only come from–

“Damien? Well, it’s about time I found you.” 

“You found me, did you?” Damien asked. 

“So your game is hide and seek? Wouldn’t I need to hide for that?” he retorted. 

“But, you have been,” Wiford laughed, as if the mayor was telling a joke. He had to be. The reporter could have sworn that the mayor was the one who had started this game…how many years ago? He couldn’t really remember. Time was just a flash of quickly moving events, too many to keep track of. The mayor just stared at him, worried. 

“Now, where is Celine hiding?” Wilford asked like it was a casual question between friends. 

“Will,” Damien’s smile quickly faded into serious concern as he leaned in and responded, “She’s asleep,” in a low voice. A light echo could be heard from the mayor.  

“Well, do you know when she’s waking up?” the reporter’s voice was full of denial. 

“I’d very much love to see her again.” He missed their nights together. The dancing in the back courtyard. Their conversations under the stars. Them going behind Marc’s back–

“I think you would know,” Damien said, sudden condescension filling his tone. His face was then blank, yet full of rage. In a blink, the mayor was unconscious on the wood floor. The once clean, polished floor was covered in a puddle of blood around Damien. Looking at his hands, Wilford found a gun in his hand. But, he didn’t kill him. He couldn’t have. 

“Hello, old friend,” another familiar voice said behind him. Turning around, Wilford saw Marc. He was dressed in his silk robe. A bullet hole could be seen out of his right temple, a never ending waterfall of blood flowing out of it. How was—he had watched the actor fall to the ground. Marc made his way in front of Wilford, grabbing his gun. 

“Have you forgotten?” the actor leaned the barrel of the gun to his bleeding temple. 

“Or are you just too afraid to remember?” he pulled the trigger, the sound of the gun jolting the reporter awake. 

Gonna be posting these late and out of order, so apologies in advance.

[ashtonisvibing]

dancing with old friends

OKAY, third time's the charm with trying to post this! maybe tumblr's trying to tell me something-

ship: darkstache/damien x wilford (if not outright shown it's heavily implied. also obviously there's wilford x celine, but that's just canon so-)

notes: i originally wrote... a lot for this- i've now tried to post this twice before, so i'm not writing that all again. just be aware that this oneshot is a few years old and so it probably isn't good. i mean i think it's pretty alright, but maybe my taste is shit lol

don't expect me to write other oneshots after posting this, i haven't written stories since i wrote this, so they'd probably all be shit-

The Manor held several rooms that were unknown to many of the egos that lived there; each of them locked away for... reasons. They held old memories that did not want to be resurfaced. And no one questioned it. After all, the request of them never being opened came from both Wilford Warfstache & Darkiplier. Although it was more of an order than a request with Dark, who had pretty much threatened Yandere when he asked why.

There was one room in particular that was locked up. It was a gorgeous ballroom, one that looked like it had come out of a fairy tale. Many dances used to be held there back in the day with various friends. It was once filled with laughter & joy; now it only contained dust & cobwebs.

For whatever reason, Wilford had decided to open the room again. No one else was around to question why. He honestly didn't know himself. He had just been wandering around the manor when he came across the old oak doors. Both him & Dark held a skeleton key that could open any in the house, which The Host was gracious enough to make.

Wiford took his out from under his shirt; he had hung it on a piece of string so he would always have it with him. He took it off from around his neck, inserted it into the lock, & turned the key. A clicking sound echoed slightly down both ends of the hall. The interviewer glanced around to make sure no one else was around before entering the room.

It wasn't as grand as he remembered, but perhaps that was just because everything was covered in dust. There were windows across the opposite wall, which each had red silk curtains draped over them, blocking out any sunlight that could enter. Around the room were white marble columns connecting the ceiling to the floor. Off to the side was a piano, which clearly had not been used in forever.

Wilford walked across the floor, hearing his footsteps echo in the quiet room. Truly Mark, his old friend, had decided to splurge with this room, seeing as it was more castle like than the other rooms. And of course he always insisted his guests move to this room so they could dance at least once during the party.

The interviewer remembered many dances he shared with Celine. The lady could definitely dance, he knew that. Those were truly wonderful nights they shared together.

He hadn't noticed he was starting to cry until he felt a teardrop fall down his cheek. He quickly wiped the tears away & shook the memories from his head. No need for troubling himself with the past like that. Those were happy times. That's all they were. Happy times...

"So, you've finally decided to enter here." Wilford turned around to see the body behind the voice. Dark was standing a few feet away. How he got in so quietly wasn't that big of a concern; Dark always had a flair for mystery.

"Just wanted to relive some old memories, I guess." Wilford chuckled. The demon across from him hummed in response, conveying no emotion. While yes Dark had the memories of both Celine & Damien in him, he never bothered with being so sentimental about them, his focus always landing on taking control of the YouTube channel he was practically adored on.

"If I recall correctly, you & Celine shared many dances in this room." Dark walked closer to the other man.

Wilford nodded his head in response. "Yes, we did. I remember how much fun we had, being the most lively dancers in the whole room. Everyone would clear the floor just to watch us." He chuckled & gave a sad smile. These were memories he had not touched in a long time, & while it was nice to revisit them, it brought a pain in his heart to think of his lost love. And yet he knew, in some crazy & messed up way, she was right next to him, along with his best friend Damien, all wrapped together with some strange... entity in one of his old friend's body.

They were both silent for a bit, just basking in the feeling of being in a room they had both sworn they would never open. And neither man knew why they were even in there.

After some time Wilford saw Dark offer his hand from the corner of his eye. He gave the demon a confused look, questioning what he was suggesting. Dark merely scoffed but kept his hand where it was.

"Dance with me."

The interviewer was a bit taken back by what Dark had asked. He was always extremely reserved, keeping to himself with his emotions in every way possible. He never talked with anyone else, unless it was about something that person was doing. Even Wilford, whom he considered a close colleague, barely knew anything about what went on inside that mind of his. And yet here he was, asking Wilford to dance.

Of course he didn't refuse. Once he fully processed the situation, which took mere seconds to be processed, he took Dark's hand & let himself be led to the middle of the dance floor. This was going to be strange for him; he was always the one to lead the dance, but the demon automatically assumed the lead position & placed a hand on the other man's waist, Wilford placing his free hand on Dark's shoulder. A smirk flashed onto Dark's face, but the interviewer did not know why. That is, until he noticed his cheeks felt a bit hotter than usual, indicating he was blushing. He tried to push it away, but to no avail.

"I do believe that to dance you need music along with it." Wilford suggested a bit quietly. If he had to admit it he did feel a bit nervous about doing this. He didn't know if he would trip up, or if Dark would trip up, or if something happened that would cause this to become a wreck.

"Don't worry, I'll be sure to guide you completely, since it seems you can't dance without the aid of something else." Dark chuckled, causing Wilford to merely roll his eyes at the joke.

"Don't worry, I'll be sure to guide you completely, since it seems you can't dance without the aid of something else." Dark chuckled, causing Wilford to merely roll his eyes at the joke.

"Then let us dance, my friend." With that Dark started to slowly spin with Wilford, stepping in time to invisible music. It was definitely strange, being lead around the room instead of himself leading, & the demon was a bit slower than he was used to, but the interviewer eventually got the rhythm of the dance & stepped in perfect time. After a few moments Wilford started to notice the blue shadow behind Dark glow brighter, almost drowning out the red shadow. Wilford smiled at this, something Dark didn't see with his eyes closed.

'Hello, old friend.' Wilford thought to himself. Dark smiled, a genuine smile, & opened his eyes, which were now a dark brown instead of their usual black & red.

"Hello, William. It's been a while, hasn't it?" William let out a soft chuckle.

"Yes it has. Far too long in my opinion, old friend." Damien gave a small smile, one that held both joy at seeing his friend, & sadness at how they departed, & their current situation. One was trapped in an old friend's body with a demon & a vengeful spirit, the other had slowly but surely lost his mind. This was not how the two men thought they would end up.

The both of them continued to spin in a small circle, William's head resting against Damien's chest. Neither cared if this seemed strange. Or, perhaps, even scandalous. They just needed to feel the comforting warmth of a friend. And it seemed a dance had been needed as well.

[themagical1sa]

kapag ako pumasa sa sayawan namin sa Physical Education, dahil kay Wilford Warfstache yun 👍

- [in Tagalog] when I pass our dance in Physical Education, that would be because of Wilford Warfstache 👍

[carnivalofchaos]

Yancy's in his dream. The two of them are together. Yancy's holding his hand as they run around in space. Dancing among the stars and planets. Everything is bright and colorful. But not as bright as his smile. And when they kiss, it's like everything else ceases to exist. It's just the two of them, together.

---

Ding!

Reports filed by Wilford Warfstache:

2 Missing Persons cases on Damien and Celine Whitacre. Both 30 at time of filing, would be 33 in today's time. Association: Friend. Still not found.

This what you were looking for, boss?

🏋️

-@carnivalofchaos

Yancy had a tendency to wake up at ungodly hours to get a workout in. It was usually the only time he had for one before business started for the day, and he was stuck on the phone or in meetings.

And it was time for some cardio. Sneaking out of bed so he didn't disturb his lover, Yancy dresses in some shorts and tennis shoes before heading to his gym room. And he's now on the treadmill, running at a moderate speed as he listens to music.

He's covered in a light sheen of sweat as he runs, pectoral muscles bouncing ever so faintly.

[mothric]

honestly I think at least 50% of the reason I like the character Wilford Warfstache so much is because he likes disco. I just associate him with the entire genre. he is a funky funky man and I can't argue with his impeccable taste.

[murdersinthemaking]

It was a noisy night in this part of town. Friends came and went, singing out of tune to songs that they heard as they walked in the streets. Vendors stood outside the clubs, ready to hop onto the drunken patrons. Music pumped out of every building, making people line up with curiosity as to what could possibly be the buzz.

But there was one club in particular the had a line damn near around the block. The lighting, pink and yellow, with music straight from the 70's and 80's blasting out. And if you were to ask why they were so willing to stand outside and wait to get in, they would more than likely have one answer:

Wilford Warfstache.

Who was currently having the time of his life in a disco mosh pit, everyone dancing around him, wanting to get a glimpse of the pink man. And he didn't mind one bit.

-@wilfywarfy

It’s been horrible for hunting tonight. Excruciating, if he can say that about his work. He’s down to his last club of the night, and he’s ready to just kill someone right there and then. 

This hasn’t been one he’s chosen to frequent often , it’s always too crowded, and it makes it too risky. What if he’s seen? It’s why he doesn’t make his way through the main entrance, breaking in through one of windows. Hopefully the blame won’t get pinned on him.

It’s disco, booming disco in the building, and there’s barely enough to room to even breathe. At least there’s enough movement for people not to notice his eyes when he pushes his shades off so he can see properly.

At least he might as well have some fun while he’s here. Maybe he can drink and maybe win some money. At the bar, stealing drinks from under people noses and nursing his hurt pride with them

[wilfywarfy]

He'd never say no to a hug! He gladly hugs Murdock, not squeezing too tight so as to not hurt him. He was so happy. They were actually doing this. They were out and about, about to dance the night away. To say he was estatic would be an understatement.

They managed to reach the bouncers not too long after, and they gladly let the two of them in. "Mr. Bates, Mr. Warfstache, have a good night!"

Wilford drags Murdock through the door, and they're greeted with a long hall, lit up with rainbow lights. The music can be heard in the distance, mixed in with the sounds of pure joy.

"Are you ready, my love?"

After the incident (because Murdock still refuses to admit that he was kidnapped), Murdock wasn’t allowed out of the hospital for almost a week. Waiting until they were sure that there wasn’t anymore internal bleeding. Leaving the hospital with three fractured fingers, five cracked ribs, and more bruises than he can count. 

But he still insisted on giving Wilford a real date. Four days after leaving the hospital, he’s covering his visible bruises in makeup. Preparing to go out to one of Wilfords dancing clubs. Though, he still hasn’t told him what they’re doing yet 

@murderinthemaking

He hadn't let Murdock out of his sights ever since they'd been allowed to leave. It was difficult, looking at all the bruises all over his body, knowing that he was most likely in major pain. But it was the most that they could do. Now, it was up to the healing process.

Wil had used his magic to help out as much as he could. He'd fixed some of the damage on his house, and helped Murdock with whatever tasks he needed. He didn't baby him. The last time he'd offered too much, Murdock said that he wasn't a charity case. And he's right, he wasn't. But Wilford was still there to care for him. He needed it.

So now here they were, 4 days later, and he was getting ready to go out. He'd gotten more comfortable using his magic around him, and he was currently poofing different outfits onto himself to see if they would look good.

[weirdlyobsessedwithegos]

Wilford Warfstache x reader x Darkiplier

Anon: So, I don't see a lot of warfstache content with gn/male readers? And I absolutely love your writing so

Could I get Wilford and Dark with reader just chilling, like cuddling on the couch or in bed or smth

Honestly, this idea just exploded in my mind, and kinda turned into an excuse to write a fic with some relationship dynamic stuff around/through cuddling :P Really like how it came out, hope y’all do too!

One of your favorite ways to end your day is cuddling close with Dark and Wilford.

Neither of them needs to sleep, but more often than not they’ll indulge your cuddling. Or rather, Dark says he indulges it, while Wilford openly invites it any time he has the chance. Not that Dark doesn’t like it, he’s just not going to verbally say so.

So more often than not, if any of them, or both of them are home, you get your cuddles.

Not tonight however, as Dark had calls you to inform you that he doesn’t know when he will be home, since there is a problem, something involving the Jim twins, Wilford, Bim, and fire. 

You don’t ask any details, just wish him good luck with the screaming you can hear in the background, and the two of you say good night to each other before hanging up.

Slightly disappointed, you pout at your black phone screen, but then shake yourself out of it.

You’re a grown up, you will not get sad just because you can’t cuddle your boyfriends.

No, not at all.

Well.....

Okay, so maybe a little.

Going about your nightly routine, you realize how quiet the your place is without Dark and/or Wilford.

Well, most of the noise would have been from Wilford, as the mustached man tended to be the louder and more floppy of the three of you, boasting and telling stories with a loud voice and constant movements, never far away from bringing out a smile or laughter from you. Tackle hugs and surprise cuddling were to be expected.

Dark’s company was more quiet, the two of you being in the same space and doing your own things, sometimes having conversations about your rather normal days compared to his, or a new hobby you had discovered. Other times the only noise apart from you was his breath, (that you know he didn’t need but did for your comfort), and the rustle of him as he turned pages of a book sitting on the couch, wine in hand as you scrolled on you phone, head on his thigh.

When they both were there, often it would come to discussions about movies and books, some of them familiar to you, other completely unknown. Your favorite times were when you could drag them to bed and cuddle there while they discuss some art-film from decades ago that you’ve never heard of. You were content to just listen then, just feeling them close to you, sometimes your head on either of their chests, or their heads on yours.

You always sleep better when you can cuddle with them, so when you get into your cold and lonely bed after getting ready for the night, you sigh as you try to get comfortable.

You want to cuddle your boyfriends.

You know you did that just last night, but still you miss them.

You want to hold them close, or to be held close. Feel their breath on the back of your neck and throat as you fall asleep, their arms around you. Or the weight of their heads on your chest.

The too warm skin of Dark, or the thrumming heartbeat of Wilford.

But they’re not here right now, so no cuddles for you tonight.

You toss and turn, not finding any position comfortable for what feels like hours, until finally, somehow, what feels like hours later, you fall asleep into a uneasy sleep.

You dream of flowers and fields, cows and books.

There’s a farm you think, and you can see fireworks go off somewhere on the sky.

Then the dream shifts, and you’re on a boat, checking a chest for gunpowder and something to light it with.

Another shift, this time to a unknown city with grey buildings that glint in steel and glass as you dance through it with a mob of other people.

Your dream is ever shifting and your sleep is not deep, so it doesn’t take much to wake you up to a still dark room.

A hand in your hair and the bed dipping behind you it all it takes to snap you out of dreamland. Looking up, you’re met with Dark’s black eyes, and a barely there smile on his face.

“Ah, we didn’t want to wake you, but it seems that we have failed.” A kiss on the back of your neck as arms come around you from behind, and a body settles against your back.

“I don’t mind.” You say as Dark gently strokes your hair, Wilford nosing at your neck as he settles, tickling you with his mustache and causing you to wiggle in his arms.

“We got that little business settled with the whole fire thing, and your deary Dark here insisted that we got home as fast as possible to you sugarplum so we could cuddle you.” Dark removes his hand, and you’re sure if you could see it, there would be a blush on his grey cheeks.

“I did no such thing.” He starts to change into sleepwear as Wilford shifts so he can pop up from behind you to look at him.

“Sure did honey, he’ll never admit it, but I believe his exact words were;” Here Wilford lowers his voice to try to imitate Dark, “‘Our darling needs us, they will not sleep properly without at least one of us there. I do not care if it is you or me that goes, but it would be preferred if we both did’.” Dark rolls his eyes as he gets under the cover with you (you think, it’s hard to tell with all black eyes).

“I don’t sound like that.” You open your arms, and Dark lets you pull him into your chest, one if his hands settling just over your heart, the heat of him already warming up the cold air he let in by moving the covers.

“Sure do honey!” Dark huffs, but doesn’t say anything else, instead sighing contently as one of your hands finds its way into his hair, just gently stroking through it. Wilford giggles as he flops back down, pulling you, and by extension Dark, closer, arms back around you.

Neither of them seems to be in a talkative mood tonight, which you are fine with.

You’re just happy that they’re home, in bed, and cuddling with you.

It feels so right, like it just should be like this all them time.

Wilford already steadying and deepening breath against the back of your neck, ready to fall asleep in any second. So are you, and even Dark seems to be in the same mind, as he’s more or less curled into you, eyes closed. He doesn’t need much sleep, and when he cuddles close like this, you know he needs it.

So you plant a small kiss on the top of his head, getting a small hum in return.

Closing your eyes, it only takes but a few moments for you to fall asleep, safe and cuddled as you are.

[lostcybertronian]

26 for either darkstache or google x dark (:

have a nice day <3

Better figure out that timey-wimey shit.

Tags: @darkstache-iplier @redraspberrycats @cookieface678 @bing-iplier @storm337 @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @pixelenchanter @itsjustkyss @darkiplurrr @darksaceofshadows @moonysmayhem @xpouii @projectwkm @sororia04s @purple-anxiety-blog @tried-my-best @endangered-cryptid-reblogs @skatle-skootle-demon-noodle

Prompt 26: “I can’t hear you.”

    Dark stood on the ground, looking up. With no sign of civilization nearby, the sky was a cancerous mass of stars that blinked a Morse code message he would never bother to read. A brisk wind– too brisk, for summer– rustled the leaves on the trees, flipping them over, exposing silver-toned undersides. It tugged at his clothes but not at him, and he remained, looking up. 

    Somewhere up there, beyond the glittering arms of the Milky Way, was the Invincible II. Mark was up there. Its captain was up there. Wilford may be up there, sometime. Somewhen. 

    Dark was on the ground. 

    All of a sudden, a pink portal opened up beside him, blaring obnoxious disco music. “Why hello!” Came a muffled voice. 

    Dark squinted, feeling slightly nauseous. “I can’t hear you over the music, Wil.”

    “Most sincerest apologies.” Wilford “Motherluvin’” Warfstache poked his head from the portal, his neon pink afro askew, revealing half a mop of black curls. He wasn’t Dark’s favorite version of Wilford, though he did leave him somewhat nostalgic for some other time, when innocence was still a thing that could be sought and obtained and held on to. “Such boppin’ hip-hoppin’ music can’t be played quietly.”

    Still, the music ebbed, then disappeared when the portal snapped out of existence, leaving Wilford there, on the ground, with Dark, and not up in the sky on a ship. burning its way through the universe.

    “I finally got ‘em for an interview,” Wilford drawled, pulling a calendar from nowhere and flipping through it. All of the pictures on the calendar were of him, naked. “October thirtieth, twenty-nineteen. It’ll be one groovy show!”

    Dark rolled his eyes. “Twenty-nineteen was three years ago.”

    “Doesn’t matter,” Wilford said easily, stowing the calendar back wherever it came from. He looked Dark up and down. “I’ve always said you look good in white.”

    “You told Celine this.” Dark said. Curt. To the point. Admitting nothing. He paused, then added without looking at Wilford, “You may have told Damien this on more than one occasion.”

    Perhaps this past version of Wilford would remember more than his Wilford. He always did. 

    Wilford was already nodding, a wistful gleam to his eye. “I knew I was in too deep, then.” He said. Then, he frowned. “Were you there?”

    “I was.” Damien was. Dark could barely remember it. It was too good for something like him. Too happy.

    “Bully.” Wilford grinned, but that grin faded as he glanced down, checking a wrist devoid of any timepiece. “Oh! I really must be going. Dancing to do, women to woo, you understand.”

    “Of course.” Dark folded his hands behind his back and watched as another pink portal opened, still playing its inane disco, and Wilford stepped into it.

    “Toodle-oo!” He called, and the portal closed, taking him and its music with it.

    Not moments after the portal had gone, a brightly-colored shape came trotting from the woods, waving a bright-colored arm.

    “Darkie!” Wilford– his Wilford– appeared from the woods, wearing only the top half of his standard pastel garb. Below the waist was only a pair of rainbow briefs, too tight for Dark to feel comfortable looking at. “You’d never guess who I just interviewed!”

    Dark raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Do tell.”

    “A starship captain! Formerly a starship captain. I hear they’re into heists, now. What a shame, they were almost early.” Wilford produced a notepad from nowhere and began to flip through it. “I scheduled that interview decades ago. You’d think they’d learn to be on time.”

    “How rude,” Dark agreed. 

    “Exactly!” Wilford exclaimed. He paused, looking Dark up and down as if he were a thing he could eat. “You look good in white.”

    Dark allowed himself a small smile. “I believe you’ve told me this before.”

[splatteredfandoms523]

For the Nostalgia of it all

(Hello, yes I'm still here, and random inspiration struck, so have some Darkstache! - Rain)

Dark had looked everywhere and he was starting to give up on ever finding William, Wilford, whatever name he was using now. He shed names faster than he could learn them. But there was one place left he hadn't checked, the one place he never wanted to go back to.

Wilford had been partying in clubs and playing with wormholes and getting caught in the madness and chaos of the multiverse, but he always knew that someone was missing. Damien, Dark, whatever he was now, since nothing made sense, there wasn't any use in trying to make him make sense. But it didn't matter what Dark was, Wilford knew he needed to find him. So, after popping through a couple wormholes, he ended up back where it all began.

Dark made it there first in a crisp white suit, black dress shirt and silver tie, black hair slicked back nicely, but not the same as Damien. He paced the manor in an uneasy fashion after cleaning up what he could, like mirror shards in the foyer, but then he settled in the living room and found a box of record by their player. He put one on that he thought Wilford would recognize, as if the music would bring him here. So he waited for a time with the records spinning in the background.

The record was just changed as Wilford pops in from a pink wormhole smelling of cotton candy, and he grins, sobering himself and normally jubilant nature to just take in his old friend as they hear It's Been a Long, Long Time.

Neither of them breathe for a moment before soft smiles are offered, and Wilford opens his arms as they hug.

They hold the hug for a time before Wilford uses a little magic to put the song on repeat and he finally speaks with the song.

"It's been a long, long time, old friend."

"That it has, that it has. I knew you'd come back here."

"Well, there are only so many places I would be! But say, what do they call you now?"

"Dark, they call me Dark. And what name have you finally settled on?"

"Well, my name is Wilford Warfstache, and I interview people on my show Warfstache tonight!"

A laugh, "You've changed quite a bit, but you've never lost your charm, Wilford."

A smile and a blush, "Well, I'd hope I haven't lost my charm. But you haven't either, Dark."

His eyes soften at that and he chuckles sadly almost, "It really has been so long. But you wouldn't ever consider accompanying me on a date, would you? I loved you as William, and I love you as Wilford. Will you give me a chance?"

A happy kiss full of relief, "Oh Darky, I thought you'd never ask! Where should we go?"

A chuckle again and a sigh of relief, "How about a dance and then dinner? I can treat us....."

A jubilant grin, "Of course, Darky! But I get to pay next time"

"Deal, my love," The dance starts when the song starts over and they dance for as long as their hearts please as time meant nothing here. Time hardly did mean anything anymore. Especially as they kissed again under the stars and it felt like time stood still for the nostalgia of it all.

@iamvegorott (Here's what my ask what about!)

[mothgodofchaos]

Interview

I’m sorry in advance for the possible emotional damage that this may cause.

Wilford, GN!Reader, TW: mention of death Words: 744

“Captain! You’re late for our interview!” You look at the man in front of you in horror, as you stand in the warpcore reactor hallway. A man in monochrome pink outfit extends his hand to you, one foot in the blue wormhole. “Captain! We haven’t gotten all millennia, are you going to stay here and wait until it explodes again? Then I’ll have to find you again, and that’ll be such a hassle!” Hesitantly, you take the man’s hand, following him into the wormhole as if it’s a completely normal door. You zip through, as a pink one opens up in front of you, diving through. As you open your eyes, you find yourself sitting on an empty talk show set. You look around you, a camera blinking, indicating it’s recording, but you don’t see anyone else. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and of course all other configurations of being. My name is Wilford Warfstache, and BOY do we have a good guest for you tonight!” He gestures at you as you hear people clapping, still unable to see anyone in the audience section due to the lights in your face. You squint to no avail, before turning back to your interviewer. “Now, Captain-” He holds his hand up in a stage whisper style. “-if that is your real name-” Hand flies down and he acts like nothing happened. “-how would you say your expedition across the galaxy with thousands of innocent people is going?” “Uhh, okay?” “Oh don’t feel shy with me! How are you really feeling?” You sit there, uncomfortable as your hands rest in your lap. You look around, trying to possibly escape the question if you can. “Dearheart, are you alright?” Startled, you look back at the man, who is now very much leaning into your space. “Wilford, do you know what it’s like to die?” He pauses, sitting back down in his seat. His fingers are interlocked together as he rests his elbows on the interviewer desk, pressing his forehead against his thumbs. “Yes, yes I do.” There’s a solemn tone to his voice, as if he’s no longer the sporadic cotton candy who just grabbed you out of that hallway a few minutes prior. He opens his eyes, and the camera turns off, the lights turn off, so it feels like it’s only you and Wilford, having a conversation. A teapot and two teacups are pulled out of a drawer, offering one to you, which you graciously take. “Peppermint tea always reminds me of my youth, of an old friend.” You nod, taking careful sips so as to not burn your mouth. “A long time ago, I was a different man. The time of peppermint tea, girls, parties, adventures, the madness that was my twenties. But something happened. Let me tell you a story, dearheart.” Almost as if the color fades from him, you see him pull out a pair of spectacles and a book, taking off the pink afro he previously adorned. “A man goes to a party. This man met an old friend. The two friends shared some wine. The two friends played a game - the most dangerous game…” He pauses again, not looking up from the book. His expression is sorrowful, mourning the loss of someone not yet revealed. He rubs his fingertips against the worn leather of the book, the spine cracked in a way that hints that he visits this page often in this book. But you simply wait, as he continues. “I didn't know the gun was loaded. I didn't know. Was it my fault? Was it?” Wilford sets down the book as you set down your tea. He grabs your hands gently, holding them in his. “Please dearheart, was it my fault?” An image flashes through your mind of another man, dressed in military garb. You know him, but you don’t know his name. You squeeze Wilford’s hands as you think, noticing callouses that wouldn’t be gathered by a simple interviewer. “No, it wasn’t your fault.” “Thank you.” He holds your hands for a moment longer, before letting go. He claps twice, and the studio is gone, standing now in the hallway of a dance club, backstage. “It was wonderful seeing you again, my attorney friend.” “It was nice seeing you too, William.” “Wilford, please.” “Wilford it is.” You step into a pink wormhole, ready to start the loop over again as he calls after you. “I’ll see you at our next interview!”

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Headcanon - Body Shape of William and Wilford

I’ve been meaning to do a proper quick sketch comparing how my version of William and Wilford look. Both are 6′3″ and very strong.

William was a broad-chested, well-built soldier. Between a high-protein diet and a varied exercise regime, his frame was bulky, yet muscular.

Yes, he had a habit of carrying people. There was a photo in the manor of him with Mark hoisted over his shoulder like a sack.

This regime included morning jogs, and he had a habit of paying friends a visit and being a little nuisance.

As he shifted into Wilford, this behaviour also shifted. His diet gained a lot more sweetness into it, for example. He also stopped holding his posture absolutely perfect, so his shoulders are a little rounder. This can be shifted if he needs to intimidate someone.

However, instead of exercises like running and various types of weights, Wilford took on dancing and rollerskating, so he’s still active

He retains the natural strength, and still enjoys picking up people or items. This is not something he uses his logic-defying abilities to enhance.

Both also give amazing hugs. These days, Wilford calls it the Warfstache Hug (trademark) - you have to say the ‘trademark’ - for those who might need a little more TLC than what a regular hug can offer. At the most basic, it’s a type of bear hug. His height, bulk, and natural strength make a focused hug a firm one if he puts his mind to it. In this case, there’s a warmth to it. It’s as though, for a mere moment, the world beyond doesn’t matter. Safety can be found in the arms of the reporter. He might lift them, he might not (depends on how comfortable the other would be with that).

A variation of this is for those he deems a lover or family. The hug adjusts into something much softer, like he’s trying to personify a blanket. The individual is treated so very carefully, as though showing how precious they are to him. (On a side note, lovers soon learn that both Will and Wilf are amazing to cuddle with. They have a broad chest that’s easy to sidle into, while Wilf refers to himself as a pillow)

(And yes, the squeaky noise does happen if they need a little cheering up.)

[kenmarlenn]

For prompts: hmm maybe wilford meeting Celci

Dark wasn’t good at greeting new additions to the mindscape. 

And new additions who weren’t even Mark’s egos, who were just a part of the Actor’s stories, well… Darkiplier was barely tolerating the Invincible II parked in the middle of the mindscape, and he wasn’t about to go play nice with those inside. 

So, naturally, he had sent Wilford instead.

He was, technically, the ego who knew the most about the ship - sure, he was only on board briefly, and really hadn’t intended to be there, but Dark reluctantly agreed that if anyone was going to greet newly minted egos, it should be someone, technically, from the same ‘story’ as them.

It was an impressive ship, to be sure. When the Actor had started his whole ‘space adventure,’ every ego sensitive to the mindscape felt it stretch to accommodate the city-sized vessel. But no one had exited, not yet, despite the indication that there should be thousands on board. And Wilford was interested in why - surely, the ship’s ever curious Captain would have ventured out?

It took a while to find a proper entrance. Even then, it was a couple hundred feet off the ground and without the scaffolding usually present when a spaceship was docked. Of course, that wasn’t a problem for Wilford, who simply floated up to the docking bay door (he couldn’t do it all the time, only when it was funny, or convenient) and knocked. 

Nobody answered for a long time, which Wilford thought was rude. He tapped his foot in the air impatiently, then he knocked again, slightly louder. Almost instantly, as if someone had been waiting to hear the noise again, he heard the clanks and whirrs of machines starting up, and the grinding of metal as the docking bay doors slid open. 

He allowed them to open enough to allow entry before stepping aboard, already putting on a bright smile despite seeing no one to greet him. “Hello there~” he drawled to the empty room, “my name is Wilford Warfstache, and I–” The whirr of an electric weapon powering up suddenly cut him off, and he felt a spot of heat by his right cheek. 

“Don’t move,” his welcoming party warned. Not wanting to turn and stare into what was likely a laser weapon of some sort, Warfstache simply glanced to the side. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted bright blue hair and some kind of fur lining.

“Well,” Wilford said, recovering quickly, “not the first time a beautiful stranger greeted me with a gun.”

“Who are you?” they hissed, ignoring his flattery entirely. They began to move to face him, their futuristic gun still pointed at his head. “Where are we, and why doesn’t any of this make sense?”

“I’m afraid those are loaded questions,” Wilford grinned. His new friend was almost completely facing him, and he craned his neck to see around their fluffy hood. “But I already answered the first one. So I’ll turn it around. You are…?”

The radio was playing swing, and she was dancing. It was one of those nights where they were all enjoying each others’ company, the four of them. The realization hit him when he saw her face. It wasn’t a romantic slow dance or any such thing; she wasn’t even dancing with him, her hand was linked with Mark’s at the moment, but he looked up at her face, flushed from the dancing and the drinking and the company and he knew right then and there. She was –

“Beautiful,” Wilford finished aloud, and pink the same color as his mustache and hair flooded his face for a moment. He had not meant to say that. This time. He had seen her face and just… reacted. Now, she simply looked at him from the depths of her hood, looking both confused and guarded. God, she looked like Celine. And that was not a thought he wanted to dwell on for too long, so he switched gears and snapped his fingers. “Ah! You’re a Pam ego.”

“I’m a what?” The gun lowered a tad bit. 

“Pam ego,” Wilford repeated slowly. He clapped his hands together, now completely disregarding the woman’s instruction not to move. “Oh, Pamick Attack will finally have a friend! Perhaps there will be a mindscape for you now that there are two of you, but you never know.”

“What are you talking about?” The woman said, her voice raising a pitch. Wilford is reminded of Abe for a moment. “Why do you look like our engineer? Where is the Captain? Where are the rest of the crew and the colonists? What the f*ck?!”

“Welcome to the mindscape,” Warfstache sighs and points deeper into the ship. “Have anywhere we could… sit down and talk?”  

[wilfywarfy]

YOU! You're Late!

Figured it's about damn time I properly introduce myself. Everyone else has a pinned post, so I'm gonna bandwagon XD

You can call me Wilfy! This is my sideblog where I talk about Markiplier, and basically just vibe

Here you can find shitposts, roleplaying, and just overall chaos

I hope you find my account to be exactly what you're looking for!

Boundaries/Rules/Small guides below!

Fighting, Flirting, Dancing

Flirting and fighting is allowed, but nothing explicit. If anything explicit (i.e. Heavy NSFW) is sent to me, it won't be answered. Other subjects such as gore will be tagged as such. If you're a minor, please do not send/ask for NSFW. Those that are 18 and over may interact with my NSFW blog, @carnivalofchaos (MINORS DNI WITH THE NSFW BLOG.)

There will be adult language. You have been warned. If you'd like me to tag something, please let me know.

Life Needed a Bit of Madness

My account is a mess, but I'm gonna attempt to clean it up a bit. These are the tags I use for RP partners, certain kinds of posts, and etc. (And no, I'm not gonna sort my old posts. I have 2,500+ at the time of writing this and that would just be atrocious)

Late Night With Wilfy: posts that are made after 9PM (my time)

OPs shitty ego art: Art I make that's based around the Markiplier egos

OPs shitty writing: Any writing I make

Musical Madness: Tag I use for my RP threads with freebirdyance Yancy, and anything Wilford X Yancy

Grumpy McGrumperson: Tag for Enzo

Fidget Blanket: Tag for panickedsalesman Eric

What universe is this?: Other fandoms I get sent stuff about

Interview Time!: Asks

I have one labeled anon. If you want to be added to my anon list, send in an ask!

Do I Know You, Friend?

My inbox and messages are always open! Feel free to talk to me about anything! I hope to be a friend, a guide, or... Whatever you need me to be! Speaking of which...

Some people just call him DADDY!

I currently have about 15 internet children, and chances are, you'll see them a lot. We love and respect them here. I always welcome more internet children, so please, feel free to stop by!

It's For Everybody, Not You-

As a roleplay account, I had to find SOME WAY to differentiate the characters. Here's a guide to help you figure out who's who!

Pink: Wilford Warfstache

Purple: Darkiplier, Bim Trimmer

Orange: Bingiplier, Eric Derekson, Ed Edgar, Host

Red: Actor, Captain Magnum, Yandereplier

Blue: Google, Jim's, Dr. Iplier, Stan the Water Man

Green: Silver Shepard

Bolded Black: Yancy

I'm not the best at most of these characters. I mostly do Wilford and Stan, so I'd recommend going to the MANY better characters accounts for most of these.

You Should be Kind and Courteous

Be kind. That's the most I can ask for. I hope that we'll be able to vibe together, and have just a good ol' time.

Welp, here we are, you survived the way through.

"Why don't we have a little fun?"