#Darkiplier Fanfic

[intolerable-sushi]

I am sad and lonely so I am writing a Dark x reader angst story. Here is a small snippet.

_____________________________________

The road to vengeance was paved in blood and sweat. It was a path Dark had no trouble taking. Friendships and bonds were not something he saw value in so using and killing people to get his way was a very casual thing for him. The only thing he truly wanted at the end of the day was to bestow the same suffering onto Mark as he did to everyone around him. However, despite his best efforts to focus on the task at hand on thing continued to plague his mind. Someone from the past who continued to haunt him no matter how hard he tried to forget.

The attorney. His attorney.Damiens's attorney

[ariwritessometimes]

Cause of Death, Chapter 9

Now available on Ao3!

[jacksepticeye-simp]

Maybe a little werewolf Dark? Maybe helping him through what he can’t tell is either a chronic pain flare or a full moon coming soon? Either way, his body doesn’t like him and he is ouch. Scritches for the wolf man to make him feel better.

Pains

(I LOOOVE WRITING FOR THESE TYPES OF CREATURES! Tysm to @mothgodofchaos for helping me out with some details)

Dark entered your shared room, looking moody and incredibly exhausted. His hair was unkempt and all over the place, Despite how incredibly hot it looked on him, something was up. Dark would never let his hair get that messed up. Dark approached your shared bed and just face planted down onto a pillow. "Hi honey, you doing good?" You asked, putting your phone away and looking down at your boyfriend. "..No. I appreciate you asking though." You ran your fingers through his hair. "You wanna talk about what's bothering you, or are you going to just lay there like the edgelord you are?" A small sound akin to purring reverberated from him in response.

Dark then turned his gaze to you, he looked incredibly tired and his eyeliner was smudged. "It's merely a bit of pain, nothing big." He then moved himself closer to you, putting his head on your lap. "Is it werewolf related or just the normal flare up?" You asked, continuing to play with his hair. "I'm unsure." He replied before re-adjusting himself to have you leaning against him instead of the other way around. "Do you need anything? Where does it hurt?"

"My bad leg and my neck, but it's fine dearest. Your presence is enough to make me feel better." He said, picking up your hand and kissing the back of it. "If you need anything at all, I want you to tell me. I don't want to find you on the floor in pain again." You told him, combing your fingers through his disheveled hair. "I'm fine my love, as long as you're with me I have nothing to worry about." You just sighed and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you so much, Damien."

"I love you so much more, my little monster."

[otterlyinluv]

Only Mortals Catch the Sniffles

Summary: You decided to go shopping while it was raining. But you forgot your umbrella. So of course you end up getting sick (you have a really poor immune system, don’t you?). What’s unexpected is who exactly decides to take care of you and what discoveries it leads to.

Pairing: Darkiplier x DA!Reader

Tags: sfw, the flu, argument and misunderstanding (gets resolved), proximity, tension

A/N: I have almost no time to write. (Who would’ve said I’d be reading lots in a linguistic course���) But hopefully you’ll enjoy this little thing I’ve been cooking up for quite a while now ^^

Word Count: 4.5k

——

You rummaged through the cupboard to find some of your favorite snacks but were met with empty space instead. You sighed and shook your head. Your secret stash of snacks has been disappearing at a suspiciously fast pace, so it was safe to assume someone was eating it. But eating all of it without notice? You’d have to have a stern word when you found the culprit. If at all.

This shortage has happened multiple times already. At first, you let it slide, but it was really beginning to get on your nerves. Scratch the beginning. You were mad. You were going to get your snack. Now.

Breathing slowly to clear your head a little, you decided to go for a late-night shopping run while you were at it. After all, there were some other things you wanted to buy, along with the snack. And then you’d catch whoever had been stealing them.

You walked down the corridor and noticed the time on the grandfather clock. You winced. If you wanted to go shopping you needed to get ready and fast.

You grabbed everything without thinking too much about the details. Your phone, purse, and a shopping bag and bolted for the door. You managed to faintly hear something Google was trying to say, but you had no time to listen. Off to the shop it was.

—

By the time you returned, it was pouring. And you hadn't brought an umbrella.

The door opened with a creak, and you stepped in, clothes dripping with water all over the carpet.

Out of the corner of your vision, Google raised an eyebrow before coughing silently: “I did attempt to tell you the forecast was saying it would rain.”

You pushed your wet hair out of your face. “Yeah. I don’t think that'll help now.”

“Well, if you had given me admin privileges, I would have been able to contact you even while you were away—“

You walked away irritated, not bothering to hear his ‘Giving me admin privileges is the solution to all your problems’ speech.

While sprinting to your room, you almost crashed into someone, but you were able to steady yourself and not make his suit wet. Suit. Only one man would wear a suit well into the evening.

Darkiplier eyed your very much drenched form from head to toe. Before you could say anything, he spoke, no visible emotion on his face. “Your clothes are wet.” It sounded as if he was merely making an observation.

A scoff escaped your lips. “Haven’t noticed.”

“Did Google not tell you about the weather?”

He who stayed mostly cooped up in his office most of the time had the audacity to lecture you for going out when it was raining?!

“Well, obviously I didn’t have the time to get an umbrella!” You threw your hands around, irritated, and stormed off into your room.

—

You woke up still tired. Your throat felt dry. You swallowed. Sharp stabbing pain. You groaned and turned around to check the time. You slept for 10 hours?!

The sun was already high in the sky, an unusual sight for an early bird like you. Weird, but you supposed it was better to get started for the day, you said to yourself, trying to sit up. Emphasis on trying.

You clutched the side of your head to dull the throbbing pain that emerged from your movement and flopped back onto your pillow. Well, this was a problem. Everyone would start wondering where you were sooner or later since you routinely woke up first.

The pain was almost enough for you to consider just staying in bed. And yet you couldn’t do that.

You’ve never allowed yourself to rest even while tired or under the weather. The work helped you focus on other things. Without it, your mind started to wander into territories it shouldn’t. Like those recurring dreams of a strange mansion or a poker game with people you didn't recognize… and it was doing it again. Which is exactly why you needed to get back to work.

You weren’t able to attempt to get out of bed again when your door handle swung open violently, almost slamming into the wall. There was almost no time to register the urgent steps stop as Wilford put his hands on your shoulders and began shaking you.

“Oh, my word, we thought you died!”

Wilford was a mess. Eyes shot wide, clothes untucked, hair unkempt, like he was running around and forgot to fix himself up.

“Wilford…” you said lethargically, Wilford’s shaking making your hoarse voice sound even quieter.

“Illinois said he hadn’t seen you at breakfast, so I thought you must have eaten already, but when I went to check, you weren't at your office and you’re always at your office, so we all thought you got kidnapped…” he continued ranting, almost like he was stuck in panic mode with no regards to the fact that you were actually safe and sound in your bed.

“Wilford, I’m fine!” you yelled as loudly as you could muster, which was not much but it seemed to break the loop he was in. He stopped shaking you. “I’m just not feeling well, that’s all…”

“Oh…” he said softly, slowly pulling his arms away.

His eyebrows scrunched up in almost a comical fashion. “You’re sick,” he stated, as if for some sort of confirmation.

“I’m not that sick—”

“But you never get sick.” He shook his head, looking positively baffled.

“Again, I’m not that sick. Just woke up a little later than usual, nothing to be worried about…”

“You are ill?” you heard his voice before you saw him appear. Darkiplier was standing in your doorway. Who knows for how long. His face looked neutral, except for the smallest furrow of his eyebrows.

You sighed, exasperated. This was too much to deal with in your current state. Which was not that bad, mind you. Besides, how and why was Darkiplier even in your room? Wilford, you could understand. You were acquaintances—friends even, but it was different with Darkiplier.

Sure, you had mutual respect, but your relationship had always been on the more formal side, seeing as you were one of the few people he could rely on to complete the tasks you agreed on. But he would have never struck you as a person to be worried about someone’s physical state.

“I am fine. It’s just a cold. Nothing I can’t handle—“

He interrupted you before you could finish your sentence.

“A cold? A cold that leaves you unable to get out of your room until noon? Is just a cold the reason you are left bedridden and shivering despite being underneath a duvet?” He walked until he was near your bed. There was a cold sort of fury hidden behind his eyes.

That irked you. Of course he never cared about your well-being. He only cared about how the search for Mark continued. And no matter who helped him along the way, as long as he got his revenge, nothing else mattered.

You weren’t able to yell, but your gruff voice was teeming with anger. “Well, I’m sorry I had the gall to fall ill. But not all of us have the ability to work for days on end. Some of us are human!”

You hadn’t meant to say that last sentence. Pain flashed in his eyes. You’ve always had a suspicion that he used to be human. At least at some point in time. You got your confirmation now. You would’ve regretted saying it any other time, but not now. Not now when you finally found out the thing he cared about most was your productivity.

“I think you should leave,” you said coldly.

You’ve honestly forgotten Wilford was also in the room as he hasn’t butted into your conversation like he usually did. Darkiplier’s face was stunned, maybe even regretful, but he did nothing, as Wilford took him by the shoulder and led him away from your room.

As they left, you turned to the wall and closed your eyes. Tired from the emotional exchange and your current sickness, slumber soon overtook you.

—

You woke up still tired, your mouth dry as if you hadn’t drank water in forever. Which, you hadn’t. Your stomach ached, but you highly doubted you could muster up enough strength to make yourself something. Another grumble of your stomach convinced you otherwise.

You looked around for a bathrobe to put on over your pajamas when your eyes got caught on your bedside table. There, lay a tray with a plate full of chicken noodle soup along with a spoon.

Did someone…. make you food? You have eaten along with some of them, such as breakfasts with Illinois or Yancy, and sometimes Wilford liked to join you for lunch. Then there were the late dinners in Darkiplier's office. But this? You weren't used to that. You leaned over and put the tray on your lap, careful not to spill anything.

You wondered who would do such a thoughtful thing for you. It looked homemade, so that ruled Yancy out. He approached you a few weeks ago if you could re-teach him some simple recipes since he's been in prison for so long that he's forgotten how to cook.

You were familiar with Illinois’ cooking skills, but you doubted he would find the time to make you soup. He’s always joked that he can’t give anyone special treatment or else they’d fall in love with him.

And Darkiplier… you threw that thought away before you could even start thinking about it properly. As if he’d be all nice to you after treating you no less than an expendable employee.

Wilford, you couldn’t be sure about. You’ve seen him cook occasionally, not soup, but he seemed to have both skill and like you enough to be so considerate.

Satisfied with your thought process, you set to eating the surprisingly still warm soup that you deduced Wilford had made for you.

After about twenty minutes, you already having finished your soup and cuddled up facing the wall to sleep the cold off some more, a quiet click of the door handle filled the silence of your room. Soft tentative steps tapped on the floor, seemingly so as not to wake you up.

You turned around.

“Hey Wil, thanks for the soup…” You trailed off when you realized the one who entered your room was, in fact, not Wilford but a rather startled Darkiplier. You have never seen him with that much exposed emotion. He was frozen reaching for the empty plate, his eyes slightly wide, as if he got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. It, however, didn’t last long. He promptly straightened his back, wiping imaginary dust from his jacket, his expression back to being deadpan as usual.

“Why are you taking that plate?” You eyed him warily. Was he here to chastise you for not working? Or perhaps—

“Because I made the soup. I figured you’d have finished it by now.” He moved to pick the tray up.

“You made the soup? You made me soup?” you blurted out before you could really think about what you were saying.

“You’ve seen me cook,” he said in the most matter-of-fact voice.

“Well, yes, but…” You sat up and tried to gather your thoughts. It all lead down to just one thing. “Why?”

“You are ill. You need rest and warm food. So I made you soup. Is that enough of a reason for you?” There was a hint of humor in his voice, his expression mostly unchanged, except for the faintest sparkle in his eyes.

You were absolutely baffled. He gets angry at you for getting sick and not working and then makes you soup?

He seemed to notice your irritation increasing and opened his mouth to speak. You crossed your arms and leaned on the pillow.

“Listen. I know a plate of soup isn’t enough to make up for what I had said. And I didn’t just make the soup to make amends. I want you to get better. I know what’s done is done but you need to know the truth.” He looked away momentarily as if he had to find strength to continue. “I wasn’t angry with you for not being able to work. I was angry… with myself.”

“What?”

He sighed, looking away.

“What I had said and the way that I had said it was harsh. There is no excuse for it. I was just…” He took a deep breath and shook his head absentmindedly. “I was worried. When you didn't show up in the morning. I thought something had happened. That maybe you had left or perhaps needed some time off. You work too hard all the time. And I did not want to intrude even if I was worried. A part of me was glad you finally decided to take some time for yourself. But when I was passing by and heard Wil say you were ill…” He looked off to the side for a moment.

“I have never seen you ill. Ever. So I said things without thinking them over. And for what it's worth, I am sorry.”

Your eyebrows only scrunched up more. Many emotions of increasingly more confusing variations started bubbling up in your brain. You didn’t say a thing. Just kept looking at him as if that would help you comprehend what exactly he had just said.

He sighed.

“Do with that what you will. But believe me when I say, I am being completely sincere that I truly hope you do get better.” With that, he grabbed the tray with the plate and left your room.

A part of you wanted to say something. To tell him to come back. But you couldn’t will your tongue to move. And not because you were sick.

With a closing of the door, you were left alone once again. This time, with many more things to think about.

—

Evening rolled around faster than you expected it to. You spent most of the time sleeping. You even felt good enough to make some light dinner for yourself. It seemed none of the residents were up to their usual antics of annoying you today. Lovingly, of course, but you had thought when they came to know you weren’t dying, they’d come to visit you. But that didn’t seem to be the case as no-one has been in your room since your… exchange with Darkiplier.

But as all sickness goes, it gets worse in the evening. And so you were lying in your bed, as lethargic as ever, unable to even sleep.

Your door creaked, the sound so quiet you wouldn’t have been able to hear it if you hadn’t been lying in dead silence.

Darkiplier opened the door and looked over into the room. Your eyes met. And even through your hazy state, it felt like you locked eyes just a second too long. Not like any other time.

“I... came to check up on you.” He looked away, cutting the silence.

“That's awfully nice of you.” You weren’t really thinking about what you were saying. It seemed to a side effect of your illness. Or maybe you weren’t so guarded with him anymore.

His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. It looked oddly adorable.

“Are you feeling alright?”

You didn't know if he meant healthwise or your current state of mind, and you didn’t care.

“Absolutely.”

He walked over closer, right up to your bed. You watched him curiously, a bit more attentive even despite your heavy mood.

“No fever or anything of the sorts?”

You scoffed lightly. “No, nothing of the sort. Really, I’m fine. Never been better. See?”

You moved to sit up when he gently grabbed your shoulders and pushed you back onto the pillow.

Breathing became a foreign concept. Even your sickness existed only in the back of your mind. Your body was faintly pressed against the plush of your pillow, yet everything paled in comparison to all but one sensation.

Him.

So close.

And yet not close enough.

His hands on your shoulders were secure and just a bit insistent. But not necessarily painful.

“Don’t get up, you need to rest,” he said firmly but softly just the same.

Your eyebrows raised. He leaned closer. And closer. You closed your eyes.

The touch of his lips on your forehead was feather light.

After seconds which seemed like hours, he pulled away just a little, deep in thought. “Your forehead isn’t warm so it seems like you really don't have a fever…”

It sounded like an inner monologue or a passing thought, but your brain froze from the moment he kissed your forehead. It was so soft you weren’t sure you weren’t actually having a fever dream. Your eyes moved on their own accord, studying his face. His eyes caught yours. You have never seen him from this close. Your mouth was slightly open as a shallow shaky breath escaped it. It was as if the Earth itself stopped spinning and all you could feel were his eyes. Staring. Pensive. As if he himself was also frozen.

“You… you shouldn’t be so close to me,” you said quietly, almost indiscernibly. Your mouth was dry. A few seconds passed. Silence. Just him and you. And his eyes. Oh, those dark eyes. They went deeper than you thought. Like they were their own little galaxies. Did he even hear what you said? Did he—.

“Why?” His voice was quiet, similarly to yours, with a slight purr that you’d never heard from him. You could feel his chest rise and fall, dangerously close to your own. Your heart was beating so quickly that you wondered if he could feel it. A shiver ran up your spine. Your brain desperately searched for an excuse. But did you really want him to stop?

“I’ll get you sick,” you tried. Oddly enough, you weren’t feeling all that unwell at the moment. You were, however, feeling something else you couldn’t describe. And his closeness only heightened the tingling in your stomach.

“I’m not human. I can’t get sick,” he said without missing a beat, almost matter-of-factly.

Curses, he’s always been good at quick responses. But— Hang on. How would you know such a thing about him? You’ve spent some time together, yes but… Not enough to know an obscure detail like that.

“But you were.” The words left your lips almost by themselves. And yet, something in you knows that it’s the truth. Somehow, someway you feel he used to be something else before this.

His face darkened, his expression shifting to the all too familiar one you knew from working together late into the night.

“I… used to,” he admitted. You had to keep your mouth from falling open. This was the clearest confirmation of their past you’ve gotten out of any of the residents of this mansion. And to get it from Darkiplier first… If anybody told you a few days ago that such a thing would happen, you would’ve laughed straight into their face. But now… Him sharing something vulnerable with you felt strangely familiar. Like it happened before.

“I can see that brilliant mind of yours working. But whatever questions you want to ask, save them. There is time and place for such conversation and this is not it.” This was his way of saying no to talking about this topic. Rather tactfully from how you’ve seen him snap at Google when he is genuinely angry for a sensible reason. There was, however, something in the sentence that you could use to gauge him. You could consider yourself fairly well-versed in a few things in life but for Darkiplier to call you brilliant? And with such casualty. Like he has already said it before. But he hasn’t. There had to be something more behind it.

“’Brilliant mind’?” you repeated his words inquisitively.

His eyebrows furrowed apprehensively and you knew then you struck gold. He pulled back from leaning over you but you followed suit, sitting up on your bed.

“Forget it,” he said, his voice clipped.

“No.” You surprised yourself by how fast you replied. And it seemed to have the same effect on Darkiplier since he didn’t move from the spot. Encouraged by this, you continued: “… No. Why did you say that?”

“I…” There it was—he hesitated. You waited with bated breath for him to reveal whatever it was he kept trying to hide. You knew it was something that weighed heavy on his soul.

“It is none of your concern,” he said after a few tense seconds of your waiting. Ever the diplomat. Was he a politician in his past life or what?

“Considering the fact that you said something about me, I think it very much concerns me.”

“Look, you are ill and there are things that are beyond your understanding—”

“Then tell me something I can know.” That was it. Your last ditch effort to get to know something more. More about this man who went from only a colleague to someone who has actually, and much to your surprise, proved to care for you. As much as a man with seemingly so little external emotion such as Darkiplier was. But only seemingly. You have seen him smile before this even if it was scarce. But now you could finally admit — it did suit him.

Darkiplier looked at you, brows furrowed, seeming almost perplexed. “You truly wish to know more about me?” he asked, to which you nodded quickly before he could change his mind and decide to leave right then and there.

He sighed.

Then begrudgingly sat back down on your bed.

Bingo.

You made yourself more comfortable, propping your back on the wall behind you. It felt like a child getting ready to hear a bedtime story. Darkiplier raised an eyebrow and let out a soft breath through his nose, the corner of his mouth raising almost imperceptibly.

He looked to the side thoughtfully for a few moments before turning back to you.

“I don’t have to breathe.”

Well, that was unexpected. You thought he would talk about his life experiences or the people that he met. Then again, you should have known better than to think he would actually tell you anything about his past or elaborate on the whole “brilliant mind” comment. Nonetheless, this new information was quite intriguing.

“What do you mean you don't have to breathe?”

”It’s… more of a habit than anything physiologically needed.”

“But— your chest raises and falls so regularly...” you said, more musing out loud than actually meaning to share any information.

“Do you watch me?” he asked. If you didn’t know him well, you’d think he’s irritated, his tone slightly accusatory. But when you looked at him, there was that familiar tug of the corner of his lips. He was playing. He didn’t sport that look often but he pulled it off quite well.

Apparently, you had drifted off again because his lopsided smirk had only gotten wider and he was closer than before.

“Do I have the privilege of your presence now?”

He was close. Really close. Like when he kissed your forehead to check for a fever kind of close. Your heartbeat picked up, and you could only hope he couldn't hear it. Heartbeat... does he have one? You must have spoken out loud because a thoughtful look spread across his features.

“I’m not too sure myself. Want to check?”

Did he really mean to say that? You blinked. His expression hasn’t changed. So he did.

You placed your hand on his chest matter-of-factly. That’s all it was. A checkup. You weren’t doing anything weird. It’s not like you felt his dichromatic aura bristle slightly at your touch before returning to a faint buzz, albeit a bit louder than a few moments ago. With him wearing only a dress shirt, you could feel his skin and the lack of a heartbeat.

“You know I’m only letting you feel me up like this because you’re ill.”

“Stop being cheeky.” You clicked your tongue in irritation when he disrupted your concentration. There was a faint huff of laughter before you refocused on what lay beneath your palm.

“There’s nothing,” you said quietly.

“You won’t be able to feel it like this.” And with that, you found your hand pressed even closer to his ribcage, covered by his. You felt his chest rise and fall more deeply, almost like you’d feel a regular person breathe. That’s when you felt it. A faint heartbeat right under your fingertips.

Badump badump

Even with his palm on top of yours being extremely distracting, it was clearly discernible. Orderly. A sign of life where there really wasn’t one.

His hand lifted from yours but you kept it there, utterly entranced by aseathe sensation of his heartbeat. He didn’t comment on it and spoke up, his tone softer than you’ve ever heard him be.

“There has to be oxygen for it to beat strongly. And that happens when I breathe more. Not that I need to per se, it’s more of a habit.”

“How is that even possible? How can you function without air?”

“There are no... rules for the amalgamation that I have become.”

That was one genuine bit of emotion you’ve seen him express. Frustration maybe? You’d have thought Darkiplier had come to terms with what he had turned into but it seems time can’t heal all wounds.

“I have been... this way for a very very long time. And yet I don’t know the constraints of myself.”

You hummed in understanding, mind racing with thoughts of what exactly he can and can’t do, absent-mindedly tracing the buttons of his shirt.

You felt his heart speed up, his chest jerking in as air hit your fingers. Your eyes flicked back up to his face.

Burning heat. Molten lava and blistering cold of his aura. His eyes searched yours for something. You weren’t sure what. Maybe he—The cracking of a mirror...

The intensity of his gaze made your hand twitch back, your whole body freezing up.

After a few seconds, he exhaled and smiled softly, bittersweet yet understanding, tender even — have you ever seen him smiling like that? — and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Rest. You need it.” He stood up and headed towards the door. Just when he was about to reach the door handle, you called out:

“Dark?”

He turned around, a look akin to hope in his eyes.

“Yes?”

“Will you… make me soup again?”

The tender smile was there again, devoid of all previous bittersweetness.

“Of course. Anytime, darling.”

It was only when he left that you realized, you called him ‘Dark’ instead of Darkiplier. And that Dark apparently resorts to pet names.

——

Fun fact I wanted to write it but could not manage to insert anywhere: Dark was the one who told the others not to disturb the reader :)) Oh and either Wilford or Yancy is stealing your snacks. Which one do you think it is?

Also, if anyone wants to be part of a taglist for future fics, let me know :)

[districtattorney404]

why do I have to see this...

[neenthebean11]

Dark DESPISES snow. He hates it, it makes his joints hurt, he's scared of it, he hates the cold, he HATES snowstorms.

Every winter season, all curtains are closed, heating cranked up all the way, and no one will see Dark for even days at a time. "Only bother for emergencies," a sign on his office door says. Some days he can be found hiding in his room, layers of clothing and blankets on, peppermint tea in hand. Staring blankly out the window. Muttering something about a little pink flower.

[yuckie-obsessive]

Did You Miss Me?

Remembered ADWM when Dark says, “Did you miss me? I missed you- very much.” And now I wanna make a drabble on it.

Maybe a little variation on what happens in ADWM. Thinking of making a new HC where he can’t touch you unless you give him permission or initiate it first. Of course he can ask for it or give vague gestures in hopes you will accept him.

Darkiplier x Reader (gender neutral)

Set up: essentially the same intro as ADWM, but a little more intimate. Sfw only tho

~★~

You had become extremely disoriented from the rough switch in atmosphere. The ringing that echoed within your mind was not helping either. Your date was no where to be found and neither was the stage.

“Hello, darling.” A disembodied voice greeted. Then a monochrome figure appeared in front of you, though it was difficult to keep eyes on him when he was surrounded by blue and red doubles.

He straightened at your distress and the visual glitching subsided slightly.

He cleared his throat, “I missed you, dear. It’s been quite some time wouldn’t you say?” He took a step forward, extending a hand, only for you to take a step back in confusion. He clenched his hand and let it fall.

“My apologies, this must seem rather forward. Though I must admit,” his jaw clenched, “I’ve grown tired of this perpetual game we’ve been forced to play.”

He straightened his already perfect suit and sighed, “It doesn’t matter… surely you must be aware of this cycle by now?”

You had felt rather caught off by the consistent, repetitive actions you had been forced to perform. You slowly nodded.

“Then let me further enlighten you,” he waved his hand to summon different visions of your adventure so far, even things that have yet to occur. “You must understand this was all his plan (y/n). I have simply disrupted this game, if only momentarily.”

“How did you-“

“This isn’t our first encounter. We have met many times in the past.” His expression shifted, but returned so quickly that you thought you imagined it. “It was brought to my attention that he decided to drag you along once again. A shame he continuously removes your memories of his games… our little meetings. Manipulating the plot to suit his needs,” his sudden harsh tone and odd shattered reflection startled you. He took a breath so steady himself and moved closer, now towering over you. “I can take you from this wretched cycle… to show you what we had together,” once again, he offered his hand.

“Please, (y/n)…” His voice grew strained, “Let me in... Let me be everything you need,” his head tilted to whisper softly into your ear. Dangerously close yet still refraining from contact.

You looked to his hand and cautiously moved to take it, but hesitated.

“I promise you this, your every need will be met. Your heart’s desires fulfilled… Let me protect you now where I couldn’t before. Let me amend my mistakes…”

You felt a great sadness from his words. Letting your naive trust get the better of you, your hand lightly accepted his.

The moment your hands connected, he rushed to embrace you causing you to gasp. He buried his face into your neck, reciting apologies and promises of loyalty. The air grew lighter, and for the first time since you could ever remember, you felt lucid.

He removed himself and held your shoulders. His smile filled you with warmth.

“Let’s catch up, old friend.”

[franklyshipping]

No-One Is Above A Smile ~ A Markiplier and Ethan Nestor Ego Fanfic

Hello again! This time we're writing from a fab prompt from @coolm456 featuring not just Unus & Annus, but Darkiplier too! This is a fun one, so without further ado LET'S DO THIS!

TAGGING: @darkipli-ler

The primary living room of the ego manor was usually very sophisticated, full of leather furnishings, fine mahogany, with a colour scheme of dark browns, reds, and glimmers of gold. Today it was still sophisticated, but there was more of a monochrome vibe filling the room courtesy of the trio using it as their “hangout” space. Dark was in his favourite armchair, scotch resting on his knee as he let himself relax. Annus was reclined on one of the sofas with his eyes closed, a peel-off charcoal face mask in place. Meanwhile, Unus was sat cross-legged on the carpet with about six blankets covering him, and Dark Chica was laying in his lap and boofing softly for tummy rubs. It was an unusual scene for sure, but this time of decompression was much needed for the trio, just to have a little break from the chaos for once. It was mostly silent other than steady breathing, but every few minutes Unus would snort or giggle as Dark Chica spontaneously licked his cheek or ear. At the sound of his giggle Annus smiled subtly, and Dark raised an amused eyebrow.

‘Having fun Unus?’

Dark asked, and Unus grinned. Today he’d swayed away from his stoic side to his more giddy self, mainly due to having Dark Chica’s attention.

‘Yohour dog is the behest!’

He replied, and Dark Chica immediately boofed and licked at his neck, which happened to be a particularly ticklish spot. Unus scrunched up with a giggle as Dark chuckled and Annus rolled his eyes. The elder of the existential pair sat up on his sofa, peeling his face mask off effortlessly as he smirked.

‘I swear you somehow get more ticklish every day.’

‘I do not.’

‘Yes you do.’

‘No I do no–AH!’

Annus’ fingers darted out to flutter at the back of Unus’ neck, coaxing out yet another torrent of giggles which in turn excited Dark Chica more so she licked one of Unus’ ears. The younger man’s cheeks reddened as he batted Annus’ hand, attempting to clear his throat as he glared up at him. Dark bit back a chuckle as he observed, shaking his head lightly as Annus mocked.

‘I hope I didn’t embarrass you.’

‘Annus I swear I will go for your armpits if you don’t shut up.’

‘Oh my, is that meant to be a threat?’

Annus taunted. Unus appraised him, all stretched out without a care in the world. In a flash Unus suddenly darted his hand out towards one of his armpits in a feint, and Annus suddenly lowered his arms to protect himself, letting out a nervous noise from his throat. Annus frowned as Unus grinned at him, giggling and returning his hands to Dark Chica’s belly.

‘That’s what I thought.’

‘Oh… shut up.’

Unus snickered as a slight smile appeared on Annus’ face. Dark rolled his eyes at the pair of them, amazed that two existential beings such as them could be so endearingly ridiculous and wholesome. He sipped at his drink and remarked amusedly.

‘I had no idea you two were getting so soft.’

Annus raised an eyebrow at Dark as Unus gaped, the two replying in tandem.

‘Excuse me?’

‘We are not soft!’

Unus’ particular indignance made Dark snort as he set down his drink, and Annus narrowed his eyes as the shadowy man replied.

‘And yet those tickle spots of yours suggest otherwise.’

Until that point Dark Chica had been flopped fully horizontally and on the verge of a nap, but hearing the word “tickle” from her dad’s mouth made her perk up. Suddenly she was paying attention, but no-one else quite noticed.

‘Those don’t indicate anything of the kind, everyone has them.’

Annus retorted, and Dark sneered.

‘Do they?’

‘Don’t you?’

‘Oh please.’

Dark chuckled, and Unus and Annus shared a blatantly surprised look at the implication. Was Dark… not ticklish? Both of them racked their shared memories, certain that they’d heard somewhere that Dark was ticklish like every other ego in the manor. And yet… the conviction with which he spoke, the casualness, was undoubtedly very convincing. Unus couldn’t help but gape at him, the idea of someone not being ticklish just baffling him.

‘You can’t be serious?!’

‘I’m always serious, Unus. I’m sorry to disappoint you.’

Dark replied with a little grin, internally crowing at himself at the prospect of actually getting away with this. This had to be the most bold-faced lie he’d told in a while, and the idea that it was actually working rather tickled him, if you’ll pardon the pun. Meanwhile, Unus and Annus felt bamboozled, which was a rare thing for the pair. Dark had been the one to educate them on tickling in the first place, but now they thought about it they’d never seen him getting tickled himself. Could it really be true?

Amidst all of this… Dark Chica’s attention darted from the shocked pair, to her smug dad. Despite her being a supposedly “dark” puppo, she was in fact a very good girl and very smart girl indeed. She was taking in the interaction with far more intelligence than you might think – in fact, she was always able to sense when her dad was telling a sneaky lie. She also remembered hearing the world “tickle”… and everything made sense in her belly-rub-loving brain. So, she figured she’d get in on the fun.

In an instant she’d popped up on her feet, and bounded to Dark whilst wagging her floofy tail. Dark naturally reached out to give her some chin scratches, which she let herself enjoy for a few moments… but then to everyone’s utter shock she chomped down (harmlessly) on one of his shins and pulled him out of his chair onto the carpet! Dark yelped out as he landed on his back with a thump, making Unus and Annus bite back laughs.

‘Wha– Chica?!’

Dark looked at her in disbelief – he knew she was playful, but this was a lot! Dark Chica boofed at him and put a paw of his chest so he couldn’t sit up, before looking at Unus and Annus. The silence made it clear that everyone was confused, until the duo watched her start nudging at Dark’s and neck with her wet nose as Dark spluttered. That was when they realised. She was trying to tell them something very interesting indeed, and Dark had realised it too. He let out a casual chuckle, clearing his throat a little as he tried and failed to sit up.

‘Hah, alright Chica alright, we can play just–’

‘Hold on there Dark, I think Chica’s trying to show us something.’

Annus interrupted, a thin grin on his face as he and Unus shared a devious look… before pouncing together and pinning Dark down properly. Dark Chica barked with excitement, her tail wagging as Dark grunted and struggled and let out a number of vague threats… until Unus started fluttering his fingers down the sides of his neck.

‘What have we here?’

‘Nothing!’

‘Are you sure? Chica seems to think it’s something.’

‘Unus, Annus, let me go!’

He grunted, but the wobbly smile on his face made Unus and Annus share another grin. Dark Chica boofed again, and Annus chuckled as he scratched fondly behind her ear.

‘Is your master lying to us, hmm? Is he ticklish?’

Dark’s face reddened as Dark Chica boofed, wagged her tail harder, and licked Annus’ cheek for good measure. That was all the confirmation they needed. Dark let out another series of grunts, gritting his teeth and trying not to giggle as Unus’ fingers kept fluttering.

‘Unus!’

‘Yeah?’

‘D-Desihist this!’

‘Desist what?’

Dark went to speak again, but ended up snorting and chuckling as the flutters snuck behind his vulnerable ears. He tossed his head weakly, his fresh giggles taking all the heat out of his growl.

‘I’ll gehet yohohou fohor thihihis!’

Unus grinned and snickered, whilst Annus leaned over Dark with a twinkle in his eyes.

‘Did you just threaten my other half?’

Dark couldn’t ignore the chill he got down his spine, Annus’ voice echoing a little in his ears. Then before he knew it, a laugh had exploded out of him as Annus’ hands delved beneath his shirt, scratching swiftly at his sides. Dark jerked and twitched, but his hands were pinned beneath Annus’ knees, and he had no chance of freeing them now.

‘Yehehes! Yohohou wohon’t gehet away wihith thihihis, eheither of yohou!’

He exclaimed, trying to maintain some semblance of a tough façade. Unus giggled as Annus smirked.

‘Somehow that doesn’t fill me with dread.’

Annus continued his scratches as Unus’ fingertips zeroed in behind Dark’s ears, tracing the shells as Dark tried to toss his head even more – he was refusing to admit to himself that he was screwed, even though it was so adorably obvious.

‘Dahamnit gehehet ohohoff mehe!’

‘Aww, this doesn’t tickle does it–?’

‘SHUHUT IHIT!’

Unus snickered at Dark’s outburst as he and Annus continued their tickling, Unus’ fingertips now teasing right behind Dark’s earlobes – an utterly maddening tickle spot, by the way – whilst Annus’ thumbs were massaging circles into the dips of Dark’s fleshy sides. All Dark could do was belly laugh and thrash about, meanwhile Dark Chica was sat and watching with a happy look on her face – though occasionally she did playfully nudge Dark’s shirt or lick his face.

‘Sounds like Chica loves that laughter of yours Dark, I wonder if we can make it louder?’

Annus mused, and started squeezing Dark’s sides rapidly to make him cackle – it got so intense that Unus had to abandon his ears to hold his arms as he tugged at them. Unus had Dark in a half hug, giggling as Dark howled with a red face, his eyes flickering with crimson and blue flashes.

‘AHAHANNUS DOHOHON’T!’

‘Listen to that laugh! I think he’s enjoying that Annus.’

‘I quite agree Unus.’

Dark’s laughter was deep and warm as it reverberated around the room, like his mirth was a mighty opera. His hair was quickly becoming dishevelled as he struggled vainly against the tickling (which he was secretly enjoying, but Unus and Annus didn’t need to know that). It had been quite a while since Dark had been tickled so thoroughly, and honestly? It was even more fulfilling than he’d remembered. Though, Dark couldn’t help but kick as the tickles at his sides grew deeper and more intense, his instinct to wriggle free irresistible.

‘UNHAHAHAND MEHE!’

‘Why should we do that?’

‘BEHEHECAUSE IHI SAHAID SOHO!’

‘Hmm, I suppose that is an option…’

Annus remarked. Then Unus grinned and piped up.

‘Maybe if you admit how ticklish you are we’ll let you go.’

Dark’s lips parted in shock. The audacity of the demand was one thing, but the embarrassing nature of it was what really took the damn biscuit!

‘I would be amenable to that. What do you say Dark, will you confess?’

Thankfully Annus eased up on the tickling for a moment, allowing him to catch his breath, before he spluttered his indignant response. As if Dark would give in so easily!

‘Absolutely not!’

Dark started kicking again in an attempt to escape, though the existential duo didn’t miss the smile he was wearing – the fun of the whole thing was obvious, and they were happy to keep playing. Unus laughed as he hugged Dark’s torso again to try and keep him down as Annus resorted to grabbing at Dark’s legs, his hands gripping his knees and squeezing them… which drew out the most colossal shriek from Dark. There was a moment of silence as everyone looked at each other. Unus grinned, Annus raised an eyebrow, Dark Chica boofed, and a wobbly smile appeared on Dark’s face as he cleared his throat.

‘Annus.’

‘Oh dear, what’s this?’

‘Annus, my friend–’

‘I think I know just how to persuade you.’

‘Annus wait I–AHH! NOHOHONONONO NOHOT THEHEHERE!’

Dark was a hysterical mess in seconds. Gone was any semblance of the smart elegance which hung from his figure every day, for here now he was merely a man whose kneecaps were ticklish as hell. Annus was delightedly squeezing them, pinching them, rubbing them with his thumbs and forefingers as Dark cackled and jerked. Meanwhile Dark Chica had started barking along excitedly and doing tippy-tappies, happy to see her dad laughing this hard. Unus giggled along, giving Dark’s arms a squeeze.

‘I think you’ve got his sweet spot.’

‘Mm so do I, I wonder if he’s considering a little confession yet?’

‘It’s hard to tell, I think we keep this up for a few minutes.’

‘Fine by me.’

And so they did. Five minutes objectively is not such a long time, unless you’re being tickled of course. Then it might as well be five centuries! Dark was helpless as his knees were tickled within an inch of their life, his suit trousers offering no protection as misty grey tears built in his eyes. Eventually he knew he had to do it. He had to admit defeat, though it pained him to even think of it.

‘THIHIHIS IHIS TOHOHORMENT!!’

‘It doesn’t have to be a torment, you know what we wish to hear.’

‘YOHOHOU AHARE EHEVIHIL!!’

‘I shall take that as a compliment.’

Annus smirked as Dark let out yet another howl of laughter… before he finally conceded.

‘ALRIHIGHT ALRIGHT IHIHI’M TIHICKLISH DAMNIT IHI’M TICKLIHIHISH!!’

Unus and Annus shared a satisfied grin, before they released him carefully from their tickly grip. He remained on the carpet, and slowly rolled into his side and tucked his knees up to his  chest as he panted. He closed his eyes for a few moments, his smile lingering as he felt himself start to calm down. When he opened his eyes, and before he could say a word, he was greeted by Dark Chica lying by him on her belly. She licked his cheek, and he huffed fondly.

‘You were absolutely no help.’

She boofed happily and licked his nose, making him laugh as he sat up – naturally she flopped in his lap, earning her some affectionate belly scratches as her tail thumped rhythmically on the floor. Dark looked between Unus and Annus, his eyes narrowed yet warm.

‘You’re both lucky I value our friendship.’

‘And we value yours.’

Annus replied as Unus grinned, before sitting close so he could scratch behind Dark Chica’s ears softly. Dark smiled lightly as he and Annus shared another look… and Dark was surprised to see Annus’ expression turn soft.

‘It’s endearing.’

‘What is?’

Dark asked. Unus and Annus shared another look, and Unus replied.

‘To know you’re as ticklish as the rest of us.’

Dark huffed and rolled his eyes, but nevertheless felt the warmth of the sentiment the existential pair exuded as they all sat there together. It didn’t take long for them to get comfortable in the soothing room with countless blankets, with the sweetest (and most attention-seeking) puppo in existence. They were a dark group indeed, right to each of their cores… but even so, there was no-one there who was above a smile.

WOOOO HOPE YOU LIKED THIS FIC (SORRY IT TOOK A WHILE!) LEMME KNOW IF YA DID WOOO LUV YOUS!!

[jasminesjournal]

Something new…

I want to write reader inserts. While I’ll keep up with my OC writing I want to keep the door open to add more than just that and leave you guys empty of my content when I have no ideas for that OC.

Here’s the thing, my OC writing would take more planning than reader inserts because it fits a timeline for that OC. With a reader insert I can just use a prompt and a character.

Speaking of which, my inbox is open! Have a request for the following characters? Send it in!

Have Written:

Darkiplier

Yancy

Carlisle Cullen

Dr. Iplier

Dr. James Wilson

Lucifer Morningstar (Fox)

Dr. House

Prince Sidon

Have Not Written (but want to try)

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Castiel

Dr. Strange

Iron Man

[jacksepticeye-simp]

Someone help me find a fanfic I saw earlier, It was about Darkiplier getting mugged or something.

[otterlyinluv]

Dark is just a little black cat.

A void with eyes if you will.

Sometimes, you see a vaguely upset shadow on your wall, and because you know the drill by now, you simply reach your arms out.

A few seconds pass.

The shadows stir.

Then, Dark is in your arms, his face in your shoulder. The only thing visible from him is the tuft of black hair and his red-blue aura. Its faint buzz is the only sound in the room as you let him rest.

With the way he's pressed against you, you can literally feel his chest rise and fall ever so slightly slower. Calmer. Maybe even relaxed.

If Dark really was a cat, he would curl up in your lap and start purring.

---

I saw a post about black cats and thought of the grumpiest one of them all

[quillpenartistz]

・❥・ Headcanon time ・❥・

╰┈➤ Here’s only a few headcanons I’ve made throughout my whole ego phase [my life basically]. Some that I have are already pretty popular amongst the community, so that must mean I’m doing something right!!!

.·:*¨༺╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗༻¨*:·.

╭┄┄┄┄┄┄┄╯

・❥・ Wilford Headcanons

╰┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄╮

•⌇⌦ Can shift fragments of reality intentionally and unintentionally [he can’t necessarily manipulate all of reality itself. But he is aware of his existence and its purpose - he knows he is a character meant to play in a story and he simply goes along with it, all while manipulating and shifting the story in some ways.] His reality shifting power is similar to Wanda’s [marvel] reality manipulating powers in a way, though watered down. He can sneeze confetti, take out balloons out of thin air, spawn bubbles in his hands, teleport, and defy the laws of physics.

•⌇⌦ With his reality shifting abilities, he can turn into AU [alternate universe] versions of himself. Maybe there’s a universe where he’s a cartoon? Chibi? Horror eldritch creature? He can turn into those versions of himself in the physical world whenever he wants! The laws of those universes will then apply to the world he is in [such as onomatopoeia words appearing in physical text midair.]

•⌇⌦ He is easily distracted and can never sit still. He always tries to actively distract himself from the darker parts of his mind.

•⌇⌦ His body ‘desaturates’ similar to pinkie pie from my little pony whenever he is in a ‘dull mood’ or when someone drives him to the point of being sad.

•⌇⌦ He loves stickers a lot, he can never stop collecting them. Mischievously, he also likes to splash glitter onto anything he deems necessary [to torture people to clean it up, but he claims that it’s just to ‘liven things up’ a bit.]

•⌇⌦ Too much creamer in coffee kind of guy [“Can I have coffee with my vanilla creamer please?”]

•⌇⌦ Constantly eats and smells like fruit candies.

╰───────────

.·:*¨༺╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗༻¨*:·.

╭┄┄┄┄┄┄┄╯

・❥・ Dark Headcanons

╰┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄╮

•⌇⌦ More monster than human. [Yes, Dark is all the mansion, Celine, and Damien in one walking corpse. However, overtime, as Damien fell into the role of the villain, he may have embraced it a bit much. He still cares about his sister very dearly… so much so that he made sure she’s in a permanent sleep. Celine, even in her sleep, knows about this, and parts of herself influences Damien - thus influencing Dark as a whole. He is completely merciless, sadistic, manipulative, and couldn’t care less about the consequences of his actions as long as it benefits himself and his plan. Besides, he is immensely powerful, so if he is met with his consequences, he simply destroys them.

•⌇⌦ He is also very aware he is nothing more than a character, but, he knows he’s much more than this. Because he knows he’s a character, you often see him staring at the fourth wall but never necessarily addressing it [unlike Wilford.]

•⌇⌦ Can read minds and telepathically speak to people, conceal his presence, move through shadows, mimic voices, shift shadows and blend into them, and can turn himself into a Raven. Ravens hold a lot of symbolism, but for Dark specifically, The Raven means ‘Death, bad omen, bringer of chaos, transformation & metamorphosis, and the duality of existence’. He often stalks, observes, and travels within this form of himself.

•⌇⌦ Camera’s, no matter what kind, CANNOT pick up him as a whole. Whenever a picture is taken, a video, or anything of that sort is taken of him, he will always appear as a sporadic blur of blue, red, and black. He can never be caught on any footage.

•⌇⌦ Whenever he is present in a room, depending on his mood, the ringing sound that emits from him can completely shatter ANY kind of surface. Glass, wood, stone, etc. His surroundings also turn a bit desaturated/monotone whenever he’s around.

•⌇⌦ EXTREMELY tall, eerily tall, to the point it is very obviously inhuman.

•⌇⌦ Can take form of people’s fears and/or desires [used for manipulation tactics.]

•⌇⌦ Loves being praised for any reason. In fact, he could get distracted by it… likely because he’s slightly egotistical.

•⌇⌦ His body, to the touch, is always ice cold. Just being around him gives off cold chills and makes rooms colder.

•⌇⌦ Neck twitches constantly.

•⌇⌦ He’s highly patient.

•⌇⌦ Smells like smoke and old candles.

•⌇⌦ He is constantly tired, yet he never sleeps.

•⌇⌦ He can be referred to as Damien only by Wilford as he knows it’s a comfort for Wilford rather than anything else.

•⌇⌦ Dark wisps, like smoke, often emits from his hair and leaves a feint trail wherever he walks.

╰───────────

.·:*¨༺╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗༻¨*:·.

・❥・ Bonus Short-Story ・❥・

.·:*¨༺╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗༻¨*:·.

A fuchsia haired man sat on a weathered wooden bench, the crisp autumn air swirling around him, carrying with it the scent of fallen leaves and the hint of change. The trees stood tall and dark, their skeletal branches reaching out like gnarled fingers against the dark sky. Beneath the rolling clouds of black was a light shower of cold rain, paired with occasional deep bellows of thunder. Wilford, unbothered by the weather, wore a bright yellow coat that bore a striking contrast to the muted colors of the dark day, yet he felt oddly muted himself, as if the world around him had absorbed all the vibrancy he once possessed just moments ago. He stared at the trees, his curled mustache twitching as he was lost in thought. The shadows cast by the branches danced around him, triggering a flood of memories that flickered in his mind like fading autumn light. This time of year always made him contemplative how everything seemed to prepare for a long slumber, how decay and beauty coexisted in a delicate balance. Just as a gust of wind dragged him out of his thoughts and rippled up his spine, a dark figure swooped down from the sky. It landed gracefully next to him, perching on the back of the bench; its form a sleek raven whose feathers shimmered black as the void. The raven’s eyes glowed with an otherworldly stygian energy, deep pools of darkness that could drag anything into them.

Wilford turned to the raven, raising an eyebrow. “Well, aren’t you a striking little creature?” he quipped, a grin tugging at his lips. “What brings you to my little corner of the world? Here to steal my bread?” The raven tilted its head, regarding him with an unsettling calm, remaining silent but observant. Fragments of its being would fall out of place and come back together, as if reality itself fought against the creatures existence. Wilford leaned back against the bench, hearing it creak from his weight while his expression shifted. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the roles we play, the expectations we uphold… it’s exhausting.” He glanced at the raven, as if seeking validation. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m still just a part of the show. One of the many characters in this unending, chaotic play. Am I the hero, the jester, or maybe even the villain? It’s hard to tell when the lines blur! As if I would use any scripted lines… but you know what I mean.” The raven hopped a bit closer, its gaze cold. Wilford felt a familiar chill run through him from the stare. “And then there’s the bigger picture. All those choices we make, the paths we tread. Are they truly ours? Or are we really just puppets on strings, guided by forces beyond our understanding? It’s like we’re all just fragments of a larger story, one even I can never understand, lost in a labyrinth of our own making.”

The raven remained silent, but its intensity seemed to deepen, as if it understood. Wilford sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I guess what I’m really trying to say is… I’m not sure where I fit into all of this. Sometimes I want to scream, to break free from agonizing expectation. But then I think—what if in doing so, I lose everything that makes me… me? Do I even have the power to break this? If I do, what would happen?” He would ask, hoping for an answer. With a rustle of feathers, the raven leaned in slightly, almost as if offering comfort. “You will never know until you try, William. Every great discovery begins with a leap of faith.” The raven spoke without its beak moving an inch. The raven studied the man in the yellow coat for a moment longer, and then, with a powerful flap, it took to the air, soaring high above the trees. As it ascended, Wilford felt an odd sense of clarity settle over him. He smiled softly to himself, the weight of the world feeling a little lighter as he returned his gaze to the autumn trees. In the depths of uncertainty, there was hope. A chance to steer his path towards an unforeseeable future. And it was all only a leap of faith away.

.·:*¨༺╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗༻¨*:·.

・❥Thank you for reading! If you wish to see more, request some ideas. What are you curious about the most?❥・

[leighsartworks216]

Markiplier Egos Masterlist

I have too many links on my main masterlist lol

Main Masterlist

AO3

Request Rules

Tag List Form

The Host

Please Stay - The Host x gn!reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, lots of blood, wound descriptions, implied self-h*rm, awkwardness, just sorta the beginning stages of a crush so it's really cute

-

Help - The Host x gn!reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, depression, intrusive thoughts

-

Friendship - The Host x gn!reader

Warnings: none

-

Cuddles - The Host x gn!reader (platonic)

Warnings: swearing, anxiety, awkwardness

-

“Did you sleep well?” Headcanons - The Host x gn!reader

Warnings: none

-

Wilford Warfstache

Blanket Thief - Wilford x gn!reader

Warnings: none, just pure fluff

-

Scary Movie Night - Wilford x gn!reader

Warnings: broken glass, panic attack, swearing, hurt/comfort but mostly fluff

-

Wilf Welcoming You Back Home Headcanons - Wilford x gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of food and drink

-

Yancy

Pet - Yancy x gn!reader

Warnings: swearing, reader is angy, bad accents

-

Parole - Yancy x gn!reader

Warnings: cat

-

My Handsome Guy - trans!Yancy x transmasc!reader

Warnings: dysphoria (not explicit), Yancy calls you “doll” in a gender neutral way, period stuff

-

Breakfast - Yancy x gn!reader

Warnings: swearing, slight paranoia (?), slight abandonment issues

-

Star-gazing - Yancy x gn!reader x Illinois

Warnings: none

-

Solitary - Yancy x gn!reader

Warnings: panic attack, claustrophobia, swearing, hurt/comfort

-

Hyperfixations - Yancy x autistic!gn!reader x Illinois

Warnings: slight swearing???, fluff

-

Darkiplier

Just a Little Dark Drabble - Dark x gn!reader

Warnings: none

-

A Thousand Awful Days - Dark x transmasc!reader

Warnings: dysphoria, swearing, fluff

-

Overwhelmed - Part 2 - Dark x (implied) autistic!gn!reader

Warnings: overstimulation/sensory overload, being nonverbal, zoning out, swearing, can be read as platonic

-

Damien and Dark ramble - Damien x gn!reader, Dark x gn!reader

Warnings: none

-

Grief - Dark x gn!reader

Warnings: grieving, depression, loss of a pet

-

Period Pains - Dark x AFAB!reader

Warnings: talk of period stuff that may cause dysphoria

-

Trauma (Songfic) - Dark x DA!reader, Damien x DA!reader

Warnings: angst

-

Birthday Wishes - Dark x DA!reader

Warnings: mentions of purgatory, fire/matches and a knife

-

Dark Drabble - Dark x DA!reader

Warnings: none

-

Just A Child - Dark & teenage!gn!reader (platonic)

Warnings: Actor is a creep (implied), hurt/comfort themes

-

Panic Attack Comfort Headcanons - Dark x gn!reader

Warnings: panic attack (obvi), mostly fluff

-

Pretty Boy - King!Dark x masc!reader

Warnings: things get a little spicy 😳

-

Gone, I’m Gone (Songfic) - Dark/Damien x DA!reader

Warnings: explicit descriptions of blood, broken bones, starvation and dehydration, swearing, manipulation, extreme angst

-

Papers (Songfic) - Dark/Damien x DA!reader

Warnings: Actor is an asshole, angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of some events from WKM

-

Illinois

Of Cowboys, Cave Ins, and Crushes - Illinois x gn!reader

Warnings: being trapped in a small area, death, minor injuries that are not explicitly described

-

Partner - Illinois x gn!reader

Warnings: none

-

Free of Charge - Illinois x gn!reader

Warnings: illness, swearing, hurt/comfort

-

Reckless - Illinois x gn!reader

Warnings: death, blood, injury, swearing, ANGST

-

Family Reunion - Illinois, no reader

Warnings: none

-

Stay Safe - Illinois x gn!reader

Warnings: swearing

-

Star-gazing - Illinois x gn!reader x Yancy

Warnings: none

-

Careful Not To Fall In Love - Illinois & Indiana Jones

Warnings: none

-

Hyperfixations - Illinois x autistic!gn!reader x Yancy

Warnings, slight swearing??, fluff

-

Damien

Midnight, The Stars and You (Songfic Kinda) - Damien x fem!reader

Warnings: none

-

Damien and Dark ramble - Damien x gn!reader, Dark x gn!reader

Warnings: none

-

Trauma (Songfic) - Dark x DA!reader, Damien x DA!reader

Warnings: angst

-

Gone, I’m Gone (Songfic) - Damien/Dark x DA!reader

Warnings: explicit descriptions of blood, broken bones, starvation and dehydration, swearing, manipulation, extreme angst

-

Sodomy - Damien x male!DA!reader

Warnings: internalized homophobia, religious trauma, hinted emotionally abusive parents, sodomy laws

-

Papers (Songfic) - Damien/Dark x DA!reader

Warnings: Actor is an asshole, angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of some events from WKM

-

Googleplier

Hug - Google x gn!reader

Warnings: none

-

Reader Who Can’t Spell Headcanons - Google x gn!reader

Warnings: none

-

First Kiss Headcanons - Google x gn!reader

Warnings: none

-

ISWM

You’re Not The Captain AU

One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven - Eight - Ficlet

-

You’re Another Engineer AU

One

-

Captain’s Log - Ficlet - Addition

-

Dogs in Space Headcanons - ISWM Crew + Captain!reader (Slight Captaineer)

-

Engineer Mark

Kiss It Better - Engineer Mark x gn!reader

Warnings: minor injury, but mostly just fluff

-

Captain, My Captain - Engineer Mark x AFAB!reader

Warnings: period fic, cramps, swearing

-

In My Solitude (Songfic) - Engineer Mark x gn!reader

Warnings: loneliness, depression, possible su*c*dal thought (written in red text just in case), death, heavy angst, maybe a little fluffy at the end but like a sad fluffy

-

I Missed You - Engineer Mark x transmasc!reader

Warnings: being (unintentionally) misgendered

-

#1 Captain - Engineer Mark x gn!reader

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

-

Your Captain - Engineer Mark x gn!reader

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, loss of identity, overworking

[shabeeboothedrawingender]

Darkstache and Bactor Double Date - Requested by @justnyat

Wilford and Dark had been dating for quite a while, they were actually happily married with four kids now. They hadn't had a date in years. So, Wilford thought of a great idea, a double date. But with who? Benjamin and Actor, even though they weren't dating. But, hopefully this double date would get their relationship closer. So they headed out to the bar that they were going to meet Actor and Benjamin at, their four kids were being babysat by Dark’s mother.

They finally arrived and sat at the table next to Actor and Benjamin, the two not noticing them yet.

“Did you buy a new suit just for this master?” Benjamin asked, smiling. Actor showed off his new crimson suit. “Of course, my dear, you deserve the best for this outing! Well, so do I, but I thought of being generous.” Actor stated. Benjamin let out a little chuckle until he noticed Wilford and Dark watching them. “Ahem, yes, yes. You would want to impress others wouldn't you?” Ben did not like when the two caught him and Actor flirting.

“Already started getting horny without us eh?” Wilford smirked. Benjamin blushed. “SIR WARFSTACHE, THAT'S NOT WHAT THIS IS-!” Wilford chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Wilford, leave the poor butler alone. Actor is nothing but bad news anyway.” Dark looked at Actor with a glare of hatred, as usual. “Alright, my dear lamb~” Wilford teased. “Shut up.” Dark said as he sat down at the table.

The night went on with the four drinking and talking to their partners. And, of course, Actor and Wilford were the drunkest by the end of the night.

I hope I delivered well >:3

[neenthebean11]

God I can never write darkiplier perspective 3rd person limited bc he needs to be mysterious and shady and creepy and the egos slowly learn more about him but GODDAMN do I want to spill everything in a quick dark perspective fic

[cozyenigma]

Ingrained

Word Count- 1201

Request?- Yes!

(sorry this took me so long! I hope the tarot parts aren't too basic and it's what you envisioned! And of you'd still like the anon handle you can absolutely take that one!)

Tag List- @cookielover0001010 , @swag-droid , @watchoutforfrostbite

Warnings- None

Dark didn't need to eat or drink. Food didn't nourish the carcass he hauled around and drink did nothing to quench his thirst. When he found himself presented with these things anyways, Dark always took a small amount of pleasure in others discomfort when they noticed he never touched anything.

Still, in the privacy of his own office, away from annoyances and prying eyes, he let himself imbibe. A steaming hot cup of sencha sat on his desk. The fine china cup, delicate and thin, gleamed atop its saucer. Heedless, of the temperature, Dark took a sip.

It tasted like ash.

One of his human components, he wasn't quite sure which, had liked to take tea in this setting once upon a time. Steaming hot tea in a window seat with a good book. As much as Dark was annoyed at the bleed over, the habit helped.

As did the readings. Dark knew which one this habit stemmed from. The cards seemed to flow in his hands. Shuffling and dealing and reading. The deck was worn. Creased and faded at the edges, the cards showed their age. Part of him wondered if this was her set when she was alive. Probably not.

As he was going to set the spread of cards, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Dark's hands paused. Then he gathered the cards back into one stack.

"Back again, are we?"

The air grew noticeably colder, the steam rising from his tea that much more pronounced. They were here alright.

With a sigh, he started shuffling again. "Are you going to skulk about or try and wreck my office again?"

His answer was a lamp tumbling to the floor, glass skittering across the hardwood.

"Right." Dark ignored the blatant hostility and cut the deck. The DA, reduced to the presence they were now, would eventually tire of the destruction. They always did. It was only Dark's own aura that kept them from doing physical harm to his body.

The destruction was a nuisance but only that. While he didn't enjoy replacing and repairing his furnishings every other week, he wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of seeing any reaction. Eventually, after he heard them gouge long tracks into the floor, they stopped.

He hummed and placed the deck on the desk.

"If you're finished?" Dark gestures to the cards and waited.

The room was still and silent once more. He knew they could move and choose the cards. Whether or not they were shocked or just refusing, he could only guess.

"If you won't," he took up the deck himself, giving it one more shuffle. "I'll ask a question for you, I'm sure both of us have been thinking it. Why do you keep coming back?"

The sound of broken glass crunching under foot. They were seemingly grinding the shards into the floor. That got to them.

"Let's keep it basic, shall we?" He kept going, tone too casual for the situation. "Basic three card pull. Past, present, future, hmm?"

They slipped through his hands as easily as water. Three cards, situated in a line right in front of him. Dark pictured them in his head, brooding as they sat opposite. It almost made him smile.

Delicately, he flipped the first over. A woman wrestling with a beast that might have, once, been a lion. The wearing of time and distortion made it seem otherworldly somehow.

"Strength," he laughed. "Makes sense, I suppose. You always were confident in your skills, even when we were young. Clear choices, clear purpose. I imagine you and everyone else thought you were aiming for bigger and better things, hmm?"

The walls themselves seemed to creak ominously around him. If he didn't know better he might suspect they could bring the ceiling down on top of him.

"Yknow," he said, resting his fingers atop the next card, "this is less the cards talking and more supposed to be the people themselves talking. To put things to words, I suppose. Though you can't quite manage that can you?"

The tea cup beside him abruptly cracked in half. Hot tea leaked out in a small flood, nearly taking the cards with it and soaking into his sleeve. Dark paid it no mind.

"The present now then, shall we?"

This next card was so worn down he very nearly couldn't read the text. Though he'd know the upside down design without it well enough.

"Reverse wheel of fortune," he leaned back, shaking errant drops of scalding tea from his hand. "A run of bad luck. Much as you try you can't control the past, you can't control the present either. Oh my poor, poor friend. I can understand that, to a degree."

He scanned the room, looking for a shimmer, a shadow, anything to indicate where they were. If they actually occupied any sort of space in this reality. The empty, cold office didn't provide him with any insight on that.

"Neither of us were in control then," he said eventually, "as for now…"

Dark flexed his hand. What was once their hand. "I suppose I'll be taking that back for the both of us, hmm?"

No response. Nothing was destroyed in a fit of impotent rage but he knew they were still here. That crawling every present feeling of being watched was still there.

"Stop trying to change things," he murmurs, "I don't pretend to know where you're existing now but there's surely better things for you to be doing. Maybe even actually rest."

Again, nothing. Dark huffed and, without further preamble, flipped the last card. This one made him laugh. As much as he could laugh, anyways.

"Justice? Really?"

The card was fairly self explanatory, as far as other cards in the deck went. The woman depicted held a scale and sword, regal and just. At some point the face was nearly erased, a small tear going through where her eyes would have been. The now cooled tea had soaked into the paper, giving the card a sickly brown green tint.

"You're pinning your hopes on karma, is that it?" He tossed the card back onto the desk. "I don't think so. The world isn't that kind. If anything, I'll be bringing you justice. Bringing down the man that caused all of this is karma enough, I think."

The deck next to him abruptly flew apart, cards pinwheeling in the air and just adding to the mess. Heaving a sigh, Dark got to his feet.

"One of us can keep going with this cycle, old friend," he'd admit, the old moniker was a dig he couldn't help but slip in, "and I think you know who."

If they heard him they chose not to show it. The room was more than still, it was empty. That pressure, the presence in the air was gone. Which left Dark among the ruins of his office once again.

"Same time next week, I suppose," he mutters, plucking a card from the desk and giving it a flick. The sencha had truly soaked the thing. Even with the paper starting to warp and discolor, he could still make out the tower clear as day.