#bigender darkiplier | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

redrosella · 7 years ago

Text

Muliebrity

The long awaited sequel to Femininity! This time posted on my writing tumblr! That’s right, I finally made one!

Summary: Dark doesn't care what the others think. She doesn't. She doesn't want to have to deal with the idiocy of Jack's egos when she comes out in a dress either, but sometimes you just have to do what you have to do.

Warnings: Slight misgendering.

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12787944

“Wilford, do my makeup,” Dark commanded suddenly as she entered the room without warning, staring intently at the pink ego.

Wilford perked up from his seat, a smile crossing his face. “Sure! My room or yours?”

“My room.” Dark rolled her eyes. “I’m never going back in your room since the last time.”

“Oh come on, it was an accident, I swear! I didn’t mean for-”

Dark held her hand up, stopping him. “We’re not getting into this again, Wil. Just do my eyeliner.”

“Alright,” Wilford said, quickly running towards Dark’s room, not even bothering to wait for her to catch up before he pulled out her makeup kit. It was filled to the brim with all different types of makeup instruments, mostly in the color black. There were a few outliers, but he’d never seen them used before and probably never would.

He had finished his once over of the kit when Dark came up behind him, sitting a chair placed next to a mirror.

“What do you want me to do this time, Darkie?”

“Just the usual,” she replied.

“Aw, nothing special? Come on, it’s the first time you’ve been female with the Jack egos around! Don’t you wanna make a good first female impression?”

Dark levelled him with an unimpressed stare. “I’m not doing anything special for those pathetic egos.”

Wilford shrugged, picking up the regular black eyeliner. He began to steadily outline the tops of her lids, adding a slight wing off the side. He then picked up some eyeshadow, lightly applying it. It was a brown color instead of a black, as Wilford knew too much black would just look tacky. He’d had to pester her about that many times in the past before she finally conceded.

He quickly added some light mascara to finish it off before asking, “Any blush this time?”

“No.”

“Aw, come on Darkie. You never let me use the blush,” he whined. “Come on, if you put it on, I’ll put some on myself.” Wilford nudged her.

Dark rolled her eyes, letting out a sigh. “Fine. Just don’t go overboard on my cheeks.”

“Got it!”

Wilford quickly applied a light coat to her cheekbones, then roughly shoved the brush into the remaining blush, making sure it was thoroughly coated, and liberally applied it to his own face.

Dark deadpanned. “I thought I said don’t go overboard.”

“You only said not to go overboard on yourself.” Wilford winked, pointing at her with the thoroughly pink brush, little flecks of powder dropping to the floor.

She rolled her eyes, but Will could see the hint of an exasperated smile on her face.

She stood up, looking herself over in the mirror quickly before nodding and walking over to her closet, pulling it open and looking over what was inside. She contemplated for a few seconds, then pushed aside the collection suits that resided in there, revealing the collection of black feminine clothes hidden in the corner.

Wilford gasped. “Are you going to wear a dress today?!”

“Yes,” she replied succinctly, not bothering to look back and see Wilford almost jumping with joy.

She pulled out a simple long maxi dress with long sleeves, examining it for a few seconds before nodding.

“Get out of my room, Wilford.”

“What, why?” He whined.

“I’m not getting dressed while you’re in here. Go. I’ll be out in a bit.”

Wilford nodded, heading towards the door, but paused as his hand grasped the knob.

“Dark… Are you just gonna let the Jack egos figure it out on their own, or will you tell them?” His voice was twinged with worry.

Dark was silent for a few seconds, before saying stiffly, “I don’t have to explain myself to them.”

Wilford nodded. “Alright. If they’re rude in any way, tell me and I’ll stab ‘em.”

“You don’t have to do that, Wilford. I can deal with it myself. You’ve already done enough for me.” In any other tone of voice that would have sounded rude, but Dark truly meant it with all the sincerity she could muster.

“Okay. I’ll be in the foyer with everyone if you need me,” he said before slipping out.

Dark let out a sigh, walking to the door and locking it just so he couldn’t pop back in- although with the teleporting that didn’t mean much. She pulled off her top, fingers brushing over the bullet wound above her left breast. It was just as fresh as the day Wilford had made it. There wasn’t any way in hell she’d let him know it was still there. She pulled the dress over herself quickly, covering the scar up as fast as she could. She had enough to worry about without dwelling on that.

The dress fit snugly, accentuating her curves and hiding some of the more masculine features she possessed. She didn’t get too much dysphoria from her appearance, it was mostly just the pronouns that people used that really irked her, but it was still nice to look more feminine. It just felt familiar on these days.

She did one last check in the mirror, making sure she hadn’t smudged her makeup at all, then walked out of her room, following the path to the foyer. She strolled in, taking count of everyone that was in the room. It was almost everyone, minus the Googles, Bing, King, Anti, and, surprisingly, Wilford.

Dark narrowed her eyes. “Host, where’s Wilford gone to? He was supposed to be here.”

“Wilford told The Host to tell Dark that he had to go grab something from his room, but he did not expect that she would be out so soon.”

A few Mark egos looked up at The Host’s words, checking to make sure that it was indeed a feminine day. No one really doubted The Host, but they were always a bit wary that one day he’d be wrong and earn the full extent of Dark’s wrath simply because he couldn’t see what the non-binary ego was wearing on a day to day basis. It was a pretty normal reaction from them, and once they confirmed that everything was good, they resumed whatever they were doing before.

What wasn’t a normal reaction, however, were the Jack egos. They stared at her in poorly concealed shock, unsure of what to say or do at seeing Dark, one of the most intimidating egos in the headquarters, wearing a dress and makeup. She was about to snap at them when she was preemptively cut off by Anti walking into the room, his obnoxious presence drawing all the attention to him.

Anti took one look at Dark, and then immediately burst out laughing, glitching slightly as he struggled to reign himself in. “What’d you do, lose a bet? Jesus Christ.”

Dark flinched back minutely at his words, just barely noticeable. What was noticeable was her shell cracking, red echoes surrounding her form sharply.

The room went tense. Dark tried to regain her composure and was about to say something to Anti, but was once again stopped before she could do anything.

“The Host warns Anti that it is not wise to insult Darkiplier. Whether she’s wearing a dress matters not.”

“Yeah, there are plenty of reasons to insult her, but this isn’t one of them.” Dark whipped around, trying to see who said that, but it was impossible to figure out given they all pretty much had the same voice and all of them were acting innocent. She resorted to giving everyone a glare, folding her arms. She’d let it go just this once only because they were backing her.

As she looked back, Anti was holding his hands up limply, glitching slightly. “Jesus. Sorry.” He at least had the decency to look embarrassed. That was actually pretty surprising to Dark, as she was certain when she woke up this morning that he was going to be the one she’d have to knock some sense into.

Before she could reply to him, though, Anti had quickly glitched out of existance, off to wherever he spent most of his time.

Dark sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose in annoyance, taking care not to smudge any of her makeup.

Behind her back the other egos all looked at each other, making a silent agreement not to bother her. Even the Jack egos looked at each other in understanding, all coming to the same conclusion about Dark and accepting it in an instant.

“If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the kitchen,” Dark said sharply, quickly stalking out of the foyer to get away from the awkward atmosphere that descended upon the room.

When in the kitchen, she started a pot of coffee, glaring at the machine like that could make it go any faster. She jolted slightly as she heard footsteps coming up behind her, looking over her shoulder.

Jackieboy Man was walking over to her, smiling. Instead of seeming to fear her presence like he usually did, he was surprisingly calm, a sense of contentment surrounding him. Dark raised an eyebrow.

“I thought I made it clear not to bother me,” she said roughly.

“I know, but… I just wanted to say you look beautiful today,” he said, a light blush decorating his cheeks.

Dark blinked in surprise. She opened her mouth, then closed it, not quite sure what to say. The others willingly complimenting her was extremely rare, let alone a Jack ego doing it.

Jackie noticed her staring uncomfortably, then expanded on it quickly. “I just… It’s… it’s nice to not be the only ego here with some, uh, gender issues.” He rubbed his arm awkwardly. “Only the Jack egos know, but uh, I’m actually transgender.” Jackie bit his lip as he stared at her intently, trying to judge her reaction to that bombshell.

Dark just nodded, keeping her expression neutral. There was no way in hell she’d ever judge him for that, but she still had a reputation to uphold.

“Female to male?” She questioned.

“Yeah. Schneep was kind enough to, uh, help with my transition. I didn’t think anyone else would feel the same as me, though. Or, well, at least be under the same umbrella as me, since you’d be bigender.”

“What?”

“Bigender. That’s… that’s what you are, right? I’m really sorry if I got it wrong, I just assumed with the female sometimes and male sometimes thing that’s what you identified as. I’m sorry...”

“Bigender.” Dark repeated. “I like it.”

“Oh, good,” Jackie said sheepishly before coughing and perking up slightly, puffing out his chest. “I mean, of course I was right. I’m JACKIEBOY MAN!”

“Of course,” Dark replied dryly.

“Oh, by the way, Wilford came back to the foyer. No one wants to tell him what happened.” Dark shot him a questioning look. “He’s got a gun,” Jackie explained. “That’s what he was fetching from his room.”

She sighed. “Alright, I’ll deal with him.”

“Okay. Thank you. And… I know you don’t like ‘feelings’, but… If you ever want to talk to anyone, I’m always here. I know what it’s like.”

“...Go back to the foyer,” Dark replied, shooting him a half hearted glare.

Jackie nodded. “Alright. See you, Dark.”

Dark didn’t reply. She turned back to the coffee maker, where the heavenly concoction she needed was finally poured into her mug. She took it out, taking a small sip and sighing in contentment.

That was not the turn of events she had expected when waking up that day with Celine’s influence hanging over her but she wasn’t complaining. Not in the slightest.

There was no way she was ever going to talk to Jackieboy, but the idea that someone else understood what she felt was nice to hear. It took a weight off her shoulders that she hadn’t even realized was there.

Not that she’d ever admit that.

She was Darkiplier. She was strong and powerful whether or not she was male or female. She would make sure no one would ever dare to think otherwise.

People who wanted to be tagged: @the-asexual-reaper @niluith-moonlady @dontmakemecomeupwithausername

#markiplier fanfiction #markiplier #darkiplier #bigender darkiplier #fanfiction #redrosellawriting #jackieboy man #trans jackieboy man

140 notes · View notes

mayor-damien-protection-squad · 7 years ago

Text

Femininity

A quick one-shot I wrote for bigender Darkiplier because I can’t stop thinking about this headcanon now…

~Mod Carbz

Warnings: Slight unintentional misgendering, implied Wilford/Dark, WKM Spoilers

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12377511

Read Below The Cut!

“She/Her pronouns today,” Dark said quietly to Wilford, passing him on the way to the meeting room. Most of the other egos were already there, ready to spitball ideas for how to take over Mark’s channel and then eventually just end up doing their own things for the rest of the day when that fell through.

Wilford nodded in reply, continuing to work on his most recent script without a second thought. Dark nodded back, feeling a bit more satisfied. It didn’t really matter if Wilford knew it was a feminine day because they almost never talked one on one, and she would murder him if he said anything to the other egos, but she felt just a little better knowing that at least one person knew in the long run.

She couldn’t let the other egos know about her past and risk them thinking she was weak. That meant they couldn’t know that she wasn’t one person. That she was the conglomeration of three broken people, pushed together into one being fueled by revenge and betrayal. That this caused her to have days where Celine- wonderful, beautiful Celine- would be more present, causing Dark to prefer she/her pronouns.

As Dark walked closer to the room, she could hear The Host casually narrating the things happening inside the meeting room, a common nervous tick of his when there was too much silence. He had explained once before that it was because without any sound filling the void he felt like he was sans two of his senses instead of just one.

Dark pushed open the door, quickly assessing the room in a single glance. It seemed that she was the second to last ego in today, Wilford being the one lagging behind as always.

The Host continued his rambling. “Darkiplier walks into the room. She strolls over to her chair, then stops, staring at The Host in concealed shock. Everyone in the room looks at her.”

It was true. Dark was staring at The Host, barely concealed shock tearing at her seams, rippling through her form.

“Shut. Up. Host.” She grit out, wringing her hands in the air like she was gripping something that wasn’t there. A familiar reflex from the past.

This is not how she wanted to be outed. If she had her way, she’d never be out, no matter how male pronouns felt like knives sometimes. She couldn’t let them think she was weak. She couldn’t afford it.

“The Host does not understand. He was simply narrating what she was doing,” Host replied.

Everyone in the room could see Dark’s shell beginning to crack, although instead of the red and blue echo that usually surrounded her when it happened, this time it was almost entirely red.

“Um, Host, I know you’re blind, but Dark isn’t a woman,” Bim spoke up, finally gathering the courage to break the thick silence that had descended upon the room.

“She is today. The Host is never incorrect. He simply narrates the world around him.”

“I know you liked to manipulate people’s lives when you were The Author, but I thought you were past that, Host,” Silver Shepard admonished, trying to stop The Host from making the situation any worse, lest they bear the full front of her ire. “You can’t try to change a person’s identity for your own amusement.”

“The Host is not manipulating anything,” Host replied, words more tense than before, not wanting to be challenged on something he held pride in being exceptionally skilled at.

“You can’t just change someone’s sex, Host,” Dr. Iplier said angrily. “Dark is a ma-.”

Suddenly, everyone stopped, frozen in their tracks as the color seemed to drain out of the room from every corner. Dark was twitching violently, her shell cracking at the seams, a thousand splinters trailing down her body. No one knew what was going to happen next until-

“Celine.”

Dark froze. Wilford had come up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around and in the corner of her eye she could see the egos flinching back, prepared for her to lash out at Wilford. Instead she simply stared at him, relaxing just slightly as she saw him standing there, a comforting and familiar presence.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said, motioning his his head toward the door and guiding her away from the room with his hand on her shoulder. She didn’t protest for once. None of the egos said anything as they left, afraid to shatter the tentative peace that might have just saved their lives.

Once they were outside the room and walking down the hallway, Wilford asked softly, “Do you want me to help you put on some eyeliner?”

She was about to scoff and say that she could do it herself, but she stopped herself. She knew she honestly couldn’t- Celine’s muscle memory in that regard hadn’t translated to this body- and she really did want to have some eyeliner on.

“Fine,” she replied stubbornly, letting Wil lead her to a room out of the way. There he began to apply the dark eyeliner around her eyes with perfect accuracy, not saying anything else, just letting the comfortable silence surround them. They didn’t need words.

Wilford. Her oldest friend. Her old lover in one sense, despite the fact that she was no longer that person and neither was he. It was in these moments that she felt the most peaceful. The most human. Where the rage and revenge that fueled her existence seemed to simmer down just slightly, allowing the three people that fused to create her to calm, reminding her of the old days. The days when it was just her and Wilford, where she didn’t always have to worry about enacting her revenge on the man who stole her- Damien’s- body. Reminding her of the days when she was three separate people, none of them weighed down by the constant agony of murder and desire for vengeance.

After Wil completed her eyeliner he moved on to bringing out some black nail polish, carefully applying it to her nails without a word.

They stayed like this for a long while, falling into an almost meditative state, the repetitive action of painting her nails lulling them into a calm trance. Finally, the silence was broken as Wilford stood up.

“I’m going to go… talk to the others,” he said, pulling out his gun with a wink and a smirk. Dark didn’t do anything to stop him, simply watching him leave with the shadow of a smile gracing her lips.

She could work with this. The others could know her identity, and if thought her weak because of it then she would simply show them the full extent of her powers until they understood exactly what she was capable of. Then none of them would ever question her again. That is, if Wilford didn’t get to them first.

—–

The next week when Dark was feeling feminine again and walked into the meeting room ready for another day of accomplishing nothing, The Host narrated her walking to her seat with feminine pronouns. No one even blinked.

It was a nice feeling.

#Mod Carbz #Markiplier fanfiction #who killed markiplier #Markiplier #fanfiction #bigender #bigender darkiplier #wilford warfstache #markiplier egos

405 notes · View notes