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coolmayordamien · 1 year ago

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Writing Request (if you're still taking them):

Dark/Wilford sick-fic with comfort? I don't mind if it's Dark or Wil that's sick, but I can imagine either of them being reluctant to stay in bed for different reasons, lol

You got it!

Darkiplier/Wilford Warfstache

Summary: Dark isn't feeling well. Wilford knows what to do.

Tags: Sickfic, silliness, this is way longer than it has any right to be,

Wilford's eyes flashed with concern as he pressed the back of his hand against Dark's forehead. The man with the pink mustache dutifully ignored his grayscale partner's rumbling complaints, although he did pay careful attention to the deep, wracking coughs that Dark couldn't seem to repress.

"That's a fever, sugar," he said regretfully. "And that there's a nasty sounding cough. You, my dear Dark, are not only merely sick--you're really most sincerely sick."

"I'm perfectly fine, Wil," Dark scowled, trying to duck out of Wilford's grip. The pair had been together long enough for the entity to know what happened when he became unwell. He wanted to get out of that situation as fast as he-

Without having taken a single step, Dark found himself tucked securely into bed, trapped by sheets that had been arranged with military precision. He was also dressed in his pajamas-nope, actually, those were Wilford's pajamas. Dark's closet definitely didn't contain such things as a hot pink long-sleeved sleep shirt covered in flaming black hearts. He bet that if he could manage to un-tuck himself, he would find out that the pants matched.

"Don't pout," Wilford warned from above him, wagging a finger. "You just lie back and look pretty. Ol' Wilfy's gonna take good care of you."

Dark absolutely did not pout, although he did release an annoyed huff as he flopped back into the pillows. He flushed a little as Wil fussed with his coverings, making sure that he was warm enough, and then moreso when his partner pressed a loving kiss to his forehead.

"I'm going to get you some soup! Soup is what you need to get better. And lots of kisses, but that will have to wait until after the soup," the madman rambled. "You be good now, alright?"

"Alright," Dark agreed pleasantly.

Dark finally managed to wiggle his way out of his partner's restrictive blankets, refusing to acknowledge exactly how long that it had taken him. He didn't want to upset Wil, but he really needed to get some work done. And stretch his legs. And basically do anything other than just sitting in bed, bored to tears.

Besides, he wasn't that sick. It was just a cough. He didn't even feel that tired, he thought quietly pulling open the door.

Only to reveal Wilford standing on the other side, holding a steaming bowl of soup and a glass of water. They stared at each other for a moment in perfect silence before Wil's eyes crinkled cheerfully.

"Hello, my love!" He sang out, gesturing with the items in his hands. "If you'll just let me put these down, I have a question for you."

"I can explain-" Dark said hesitantly, breaking out into a cold sweat as Wilford moved into the room, carefully placing his burdens on a side table. The mustached man spun on his heel, hands on his hips and a grin on his face.

"Don't be so nervous, darling, it's not a hard question. I just want to know where exactly you think that you're going," Wilford wondered, tapping a finger against his own cheek in contemplation.

Dark searched desperately for the right answer before slowly saying, "No...where?"

"Good answer, my love," Wilford laughed, tucking him into bed. Dark really wished he'd stop teleporting him around; it was sort of making him dizzy. "Now eat your soup before it gets cold. I'll just be down the hall, filming an interview."

Wilford checked his temperature again, kissing his cheek. "By the way sugar, that was strike one."

Fuck.

Dark slid open the window as quietly as he could, making sure that there were no witnesses down on the ground. He coughed twice, painfully, and his head whipped around to search for his looming lover. There was no sign of him, thankfully.

He was only on the second story. It couldn't be that hard to climb down two stories.

He made it about two feet before a voice called out from below him, "Strike two, love."

He shrieked. He fell. He was caught in strong arms, and then gently placed into bed.

Damn it.

He could just open a portal-

"Strike three, Dark. You're out."

Shit.

Dark coughed so hard that he retched, slumping back into the pillows with a groan. He was drenched with sweat, burning up from the inside out, and everything ached.

"I know, I know," Wilford crooned, dabbing at his forehead with a warm rag. "I'm sorry to say that you did this to yourself, my love."

"Yeah, I know," Dark sighed, cuddling into Wilford's side. "This is a little...much, though."

The madman smirked, stroking his dark love's damp hair. "It's just until you feel better, sweetheart. I can't have you sick. It upsets me."

"I don't want to upset you," the monochrome man said softly. "Thanks for taking care of me, Wil."

"Silly," Wilford teased, gently tapping his nose. "I love you."

"I love you too," Dark's voice was muffled, as he had buried his face in his lover's side to prevent further boops. "Can you unchain me now? The ankle cuff itches."

"Not a chance."

#darkstache #darkiplier x wilford #markiplier egos #wilford warfstache #darkiplier #wilford motherloving warfstache #warfstache #markiplier fanfiction #fic prompt

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franklyshipping · 1 year ago

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A Tale Of Tickles ~ A Markiplier Ego Fanfic

WOOO NEXT PROMPT HERE WE GO, THIS IS ANOTHER LOVELY ANON ONE WITH OUR FAVE MOUSTACHE BOI! LET'S DO THIS!

Though the library within the ego manor was known to be predominantly the Host’s domain, there was a section of it that belonged to someone else – the Author didn’t find himself needing shelves upon shelves, but he just liked having a quiet, dark place with the scents of leather binding and papyrus to help get his creative brain functioning. Author prided himself on keeping his space organised and pristine, banishing all dust and using the traditional Dewey Decimal Classification for organising his books. But lately… the Author had noticed that a few of his books were not in the spots they should be in. Sartre was tucked amongst Dickens, Wollstonecraft among Austen, and there was even Neil Gaiman among the cookbooks! It was then that Author realised there was someone causing mischief, and he was damn determined to find out who… and make them pay.

Author was hiding subtly in the shadows, eyes keen and vocal chords stilled. He was patient and determined, two very dangerous traits when combined. An hour passed, then two, but before the clock struck past the third the door opened… and in sauntered Wilford Warfstache. Author grinned. Oh he should have known! Author watched Wilford look about, and waited for him to commit his mischief. Wilford didn’t spot Author one bit. He giggled, rubbed his hands together, and moved to a shelf to start moving things around. He reached out… but before he could touch a single book, Author stepped up right behind him.

‘Well well well, now what are you up to?”

Wilford squeaked and whirled around, and before he could get a word out Author snapped his fingers. Summoned from the room emerged some filigree covered leather, the sort that looked perfect for book-binding. In an instant they wrapped around Wilford limbs and bound him comfortably to one of the bookcases. Wilford went bright pink, a nervous chuckle escaping him.

‘I-I was just having a little browse old boy, nothing more!’

Wilford squirmed, and from the way Author’s smile twitched he knew there was no convincing him of anything.

‘Oh come now Wilford, you can drop the act. I know what you’ve been doing…’

Author leaned in close, and Wilford’s breath hitched as the man’s whisper tickled his ear.

‘… did you really think you could get away with it?’

Wilford shivered, and a wobbly smile appeared on his face as Author’s tone lowered to a familiar one. He knew he was in BIG trouble. Author reached out and casually dragged his fingers down Wilford’s sides, prompting him to flinch and let out a nervous giggle.

‘I was just hahaving a bit of fuhun!’

Author narrowed his eyes at him.

‘Oh… so it’s fun you want, is it?’

Wilford gulped, his chocolate brown eyes gleaming with all the surges of giddiness and shyness and nerves that were bubbling in him right now. One moment Author’s fingers had dragged oh so slowly down to the dips of his sides… and then they were suddenly digging into his stomach with a vengeance. Wilford yelped and tried to struggle against the bindings, but quickly realised he was well and truly stuck.

‘Waitwaitwahahait thehere’s noho neheheheed fohor thihihis!’

Wilford spluttered, making Author chuckle and shake his head with amusement.

‘Oh but I think there is. I want an apology. A very, very sincere apology…’

Wilford’s giggles were wild and bubbly as Author’s blunt nails slipped under his shirt to scratch away mercilessly at his bare stomach, sending sporadic, tickly shocks through the moustached man. Wilford’s mind was getting more and more frazzled as he tried to figure out what on earth he could do or say, but it was so hard to focus – not just because of the tickling… but because it was Author’s tickling.

‘Buhuhut ihihit wahahasn’t eheven thahat bahahad!’

Wilford tried to reason… and Author’s eyes widened as he exclaimed.

‘Not that bad? Not that bad? You put Dracula next to Northanger Abbey!’

Author was so affronted that it made Wilford giggle even louder, he couldn’t help it! He got so genuinely flushed with literary frustration and it was hilarious… but unfortunately Author noticed that amusement. His darker brown eyes narrowed, and gleamed with a sadistic edge as his fingers dug harder into Wilford’s stomach, particularly at the soft spot below his navel.

‘Oh so this is funny to you? What’s with all the laughter huh?’

Wilford giggles and cackles were filled with yelps as he cried out embarrassedly.

‘Yohohohohou’re tihihihickling mehehe!’

‘Tickling? I have no idea what you’re talking about, if anything this is a massage! You should be thanking me right now!’

Author replied indignantly, unable to hide the shit-eating grin on his face as he enjoyed how his teasing made Wilford go beet red and get even more embarrassed. Wilford was squirmed to no avail, his face the same hue as his moustache as his warbling voice went up an octave.

‘Thihihihis ihihis mehehean yohou’re beheing mehehean!’

Author chuckled, and his eyes flashed with even more sadistic light.

‘Ohh you think this is mean?’

‘Yehehehes!’

‘My my… it seems someone needs to find out what a real tickling feels like.’

Wilford got chills, wondering what the heck Author meant by that. And he very quickly found out. Wilford was truly realising that Author, though he was tickling him for fun, was very much looking for that apology. He wanted it, and he was going to damn well get it. Author’s blunt nails softly walked up to his bare armpits beneath his shirt… then stopped. As they stayed still in Wilford’s hollows, the Author just smiled.

Wilford let out a shy whine after one minute went by. Then two. Wilford’s heart was racing more and more every second and he and Author’s gazes were locked. The anticipation was the most intense thing Wilford had felt for a while. His every flinch and twitch made his think Author’s fingers were starting to move, even though they weren’t. Wilford tried to calm himself, not let his flusteredness dull the sense in his head… but when it came to Wilford, his sense was always overcome pretty easily.

‘O-Oh come o-on this is just–EEEE!’

As soon as he blurted out his words, Author started vigorously scratching his armpits, making him howl with immediate laughter. Wilford let out an explosion of noise as Author smirked and chuckled.

‘Oh sorry were you saying something?’

‘OHMYGOHOHOD OH MY GOHOHOD STAHAHAP!’

Author laughed, keeping up his scratches as he leaned in again to whisper in his ear.

‘It tickles so much worse after that build up, doesn’t it? After all that twitching, all that wondering, your mind playing tricks on you thinking the tickles were starting…’

Wilford thrashed helplessly in the bindings, squeezing his eyes shut desperately as Author’s words entered his head and tickled his ear. He could feel the power of Author’s teasing language dancing in his head, making his heart race more as he filled with butterflies.

‘OKAHAHAY OKAHAHAY IHIHI GIHIHIVE I GIHIVE!’

Author chuckled, continuing his scratching.

‘Give? Give what? If it’s not an apology then I’m afraid we’ll be here for some time yet…’

Wilford’s eyes were watery as he let out little squeals and squeaks through his laughter. Wriggling in the soft leather bonds he knew there was no point in resisting, because lord knows what other teasing, mind-invading powers Author might unleash on him.

‘IHIHI’M SAHAHARRY IHI’M SAHARRY!’

Wilford babbled, and Author chuckled with pleased satisfaction as he let his scratches slow down, until they were reduced to the merest of strokes in Wilford’s hollows. He was grinning fro ear to ear as he nuzzled Wilford’s ear gently, making him squeak as another tickly whisper teased him.

‘Very good Wilford, now doesn’t that feel good to say?’

Wilford giggled nervously, his breath hitching every few seconds as his bombastic voice quietened to an almost childish whine.

‘A-Ahare you gohonna lehet me go now?’

Author chuckled, and Wilford squeaked cutely when Author slid his fingers out of Wilford’s shirt… but stayed nice and close.

‘Hmm… I want some other things first…’

Wilford gulped, and after taking a deep breath just immediately started babbling.

‘I-I’ll do whatever chore you so choose my friend! I’ll do hoovering or your laundry, anything you wish!’

Author snorted out a laugh of amusement, humming playfully.

‘Ooh you have no idea how tempting that is…’

Wilford shivered, and nibbled his lip to hide a giggle when Author’s lips brushed against his ear again.

‘…but what I want, first and foremost, is your promise.’

The moment after he said promise, Author took in a deep, deep breath… and blew a long, rippling, tickly raspberry right against his ear. The shock of it brought out the loveliest, most satisfying ticklish shriek from Wilford’s lips, whilst Author purred to him.

‘Promise. You. Will. Never. Move. My Books. Again.’

Each word was punctuated by a raspberry of similarly tickly proportions against Wilford’s ears, Author playfully alternating between each as Wilford let out bouts of squeals and giggles, his words coming out of him as a breathless splutter.

‘IHIHI PROMIHIHISE IPROMISEIPROMISEIPROMISE!’

Author chuckled, and then leaned back with a satisfied grin on his face.

‘Excellent. And there’s one other thing I want…’

Author snapped his fingers, and the bindings on Wilford receded back into the bookshelves so that he was freed. Panting and giggling residually Wilford rubbed his ears and straightened his shirt, whilst Author folded his arms and leant his hip against his desk. His eyes flicked over Wilford with curiosity, and then he asked.

‘Mine is not the only collection of books in this manor… so tell me Wilford, why me?’

To Author’s slight surprise, Wilford’s cheeks went a little pink as he looked at the Author. If Wilford had been asked this a few weeks ago, he might honestly have not had an answer. Wilford and Author hadn’t had as many interactions as perhaps they’d had with other egos, so Author wondered what had made Wilford focus his attention like this. In truth, for Wilford there was just something so… familiar about Author’s chaos and boundless imagination. Something in Wilford felt similar to him in a way he couldn’t explain, and he’d felt drawn to him in a way he at first couldn’t quite explain even to himself. But now a little time had passed… Wilford knew what that feeling was.

‘Well I uh… well I… I just… your books are uh… more interesting…’

He said. But Author knew well the power of words, and what meanings could hide within them. Wilford’s fidgeting alone revealed to him what was going on in Wilford’s beautifully wild mind, which Author truly had a great appreciation for. He appreciated Wilford in general, and hearing Wilford now… Author was reminded just how often he thought about Wilford and his reckless consciousness. His beautifully reckless consciousness… and the fact that there were few others who Author could connect with in that kind of way. Author watched how Wilford fidgeted with his bowtie and braces occasionally, how his blush persisted, and how his eyes were flicking about with that very particular kind of nervousness. Author knew what Wilford was telling him… and he slowly smiled at him.

‘Well in that case… how about I read one to you?’

He knew he could have called it out in a more blatant way… but that didn’t feel quite right somehow. Instead he used a soft voice he usually kept private on the day today, and got to watch Wilford’s face light up as his flusteredness was immediately overcome by his sudden excitement.

‘O-Oh why yes, yes I would love that!’

Author grinned… and what followed was a beautifully unexpected evening, where Author ended up reading Wilford more than one story (whilst at the same time explaining to him precisely why all his books had their special places). Wilford’s attention was rapt, and though the Author was more ordered and organised than he was by a mile, they still shared that true core of chaos. Wilford’s heart was made full by that, whilst Author’s was made fuller by Wilford’s every question and curiosity and verbal quirks. Like truly called to like when it came to these two… and I think it’s safe to say that in this tale of tickling, they both lived happily ever after.

WOOOO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS FIC LEMME KNOW IF YA DID WOOO LUV YOUS!!

#markiplier #markiplier egos #author #the author #wilford warfstache #warfstache #wilford #sfw #platonic #prompt #ego fic #ego fanfic #tword fic #tword fanfic #tword #twording #twordish #twords #luv these bois

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vexedinertia · 8 months ago

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Obsessed with The End of the Dream by @asreoniplier - I had to draw my own version of Wilford's fur jacket!

#wilford warfstache #myart #teotd fic #fighting the urge to draw an entire graphic novel on this fic

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ashtonisvibing · 9 months ago

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"You're not gonna eat all that ice cream by yourself, give me a spoon"

Fandom: Markiplier Egos

Alternate Universe: None

Ship(s): Wilford Warfstache x Darkiplier

Character(s): Darkiplier, Wilford Warfstache

Warning(s): None

Originally Published: January 11, 2024

Word Count: 1,096

Author's Notes:

seasons skirmish gift for thestarsarebrighttonight on AO3

did someone say darkstache with a hint of fluff and angst? :}

pronouns check:

dark - they/them

wilford - he/him

if you liked what you read, consider giving this a reblog, please! it'll let more people see my work!

[plain text: if you liked what you read, consider giving this a reblog, please! it'll let more people see my work!]

Full Story:

There were most nights where Dark was able to just lay in bed when they weren’t able to sleep, just letting whatever memory that disturbed them play out in their mind while they stared up at the ceiling above themself. But this time they simply couldn't. They weren't able to fall asleep, letting their mind wander wasn't working, either. And trying to focus on the breathing and heartbeat of the pink haired man beside them was doing nothing as well. And they had always found that to be a nice go-to when nothing else seemed to work.

So now they were walking down the softly lit winding staircase, not sure where their tired feet would take them. Seemingly ancient furniture and photos that had been covered for years had their colors turned gray as the entity walked by, highlighted by the slight glow of their red and blue aura - as Wilford had decided to call it. Dark tried to keep their attention away from the photos hung on the walls lest they get tempted to pull the fabrics off and uncover them.

The photos were covered for a reason.

Dark soon found themself in the kitchen of the manor. The moonlight coming from outside just barely illuminated the black counter tops, showing the various glasses and plates and silverware that neither occupant had remembered to clean and put away; Dark was far too busy keeping the other look alikes in check wherever they all ended up, and Wilford was far too scatterbrained as it was to remember most simple tasks, leaving the entity to clean up after him most of the time. But no matter how much Wil might protest, they wouldn’t be doing as such if they didn’t mind it. But despite cleaning the kitchen providing the perfect distraction they just didn’t have the energy to do so much work. And considering they were in the kitchen…

The entity looked around the various cabinets, as well as the fridge, for anything that they could have as a midnight snack. Cookies, chocolate, a pie that Wilford had impulsively bought… Nothing was scratching their snacking itch. Well, nothing until they looked into the freezer, noticing a carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream that they hadn’t seen before. Wilford must have picked some up the last time he went to the store. And honestly, it was exactly what they needed right now. Not bothering with grabbing a bowl, they simply took the carton and a clean spoon and stood themself at the central counter. And despite how ridiculous they felt eating straight out of the carton, they didn’t see any point in grabbing a bowl. It would just be added to the assortment of dishes they’d need to clean tomorrow.

Dark stood there for a while, leaned against the counter as they watched the pine trees outside sway with the breeze. Just taking in the heavy silence of the manor around them. So quiet that when they suddenly heard a floor plank creak outside of the kitchen they nearly jumped out of their skin, the spoon in their hand clanking to the counter when they accidentally let go.

“Never knew that you were one to get spooked.” A voice chuckled from the doorway. Wilford, of course, no one else resided in the manor. No one else would even have the balls to sneak up on the entity like he did. Dark’s cheeks were flushed a darker gray from pure embarrassment as they picked the spoon back up.

“I was just too caught up in my thoughts, that’s all..” They ate another spoonful of their snack. Wil just gave a hum, leaned against the wooden door frame as he watched his partner. For once it felt more unnerving than any other time he did so. “Is there something you want?”

“Are your thoughts why you’re up so early… Eating ice cream, from the looks of it?” He chuckled a little as he took his place next to the other, arms now resting against the counter once he was bent over. “I’m learning a lot about you this night, darkling~”

Dark’s face was now instead a dark gray from the flirting. They rolled their eyes a little, looking down at the other. “It’s not that important, Wilford. You’ve caught me, you don’t need to be down here with me anymore.” Wil was never deterred by their rudeness, they knew that very well. And deep down inside they wanted their boyfriend to stay here with them, chatting away about a million topics at once, like he loved to do while they were working. But it was so early in the morning. And it’s not like Wilford had the best track record when it came to sleeping, either.

“Mmm… No.” He smirked as he reached into the silverware drawer to grab his own spoon. Of course he wasn’t going to leave. “I’m not letting you eat all that by yourself. You’ll get a stomach ache doing that.” He chuckled as he scooped his own spoonful of ice cream from the carton. “Besides, I had bought this for the both of us, you thief.” Another chuckle, this one earning the faintest touch of a smile from Dark.

“Alright, fine. I suppose there’s no arguing with a madman.”

“Now you’re starting to get it!” Wilford laughed as he stood up straight to leave a kiss on Dark’s cheek. “And if you want to talk abo-”

“No.” The entity’s tone was firm. The flickers of red surrounding them became brighter before they sighed. They only used such a tone with Wil, when they were especially sure they didn’t want to speak about something. Well, that seemed to be that then. Wil wasn’t going to push the topic further.

“Alright, alright… Oh! But I’m sure you’ll love to hear about…” And the two devolved into their usual place. Wilford rambling about who even knows what half of the time, and Dark just standing there, listening to every word. Wilford could already guess why his partner was awake, anyways. The day that the three of them died, in their own little ways, wasn’t something that would ever go away. The sounds of gunshots kept Wil awake as well. But in some strange sort of way, neither wanted to go back and change any of it. Because neither would be here as they are now - awake at midnight in a manor full of old and painful memories, sharing a moment of peace over mint chocolate chip ice cream.

How could they ever want to take this away?

#ashton is writing #markiplier egos #darkiplier #wilford warfstache #darkstache #gift fic #seasons skirmish 2024 #(i hope that's the right tag-)

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jimsandfruit · 2 years ago

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Ring (Darkstache)

Summary: Darkiplier has held onto this little pink ring for long enough. It's time for him to finally take the next step, no matter how daunting it feels.

Word count: 900+

Tw: None, I think. Just tooth-rotting fluff

Five small pink crystals of rose quarts arranged in a circular pattern around a small diamond, resembling a flower. A golden band, circling the flower of crystals, resembling slightly overgrown vines.

A ring, that had resided under Dark's hardly used bed most of the time for months now. He had gained the bravery needed to purchase but lacked the bravery for the next step.

They were an entity that was created out of nothing but anger and the need for revenge. The idea of Darkiplier in love felt like the perfect example of an oxymoron to him. Yet here he was, sitting on the edge of his bed, cradling the small pink box in his hand for the third time this week, trying to figure out how to ask.

He took a breath and stuffed it in his pocket. This was getting ridiculous, and had drawn out far longer than necessary already.

But as the other egos started entering his life, he found a capacity for love. He found himself losing the need to destroy Actor. He found a need to protect the others. It softened him, and Dark honestly couldn’t be more thankful. He was no longer just a broken entity with one consuming goal. They felt real emotions now. Not just rage.

He was finally alive, but that didn’t mean he was used to it. The joy didn’t make the ring any less scary.

Some of the more astute egos had been pestering him for a while now. Little playful taunts here and there, about how he should just ask the question already. Wilford would surely say yes, so why was he so terrified?

–

He and Wilford have been together for years now. Everyone knew it was coming. They were all just waiting on him. Years ago he wouldn’t have ever entertained the thought of love. Years ago he was still focused solely on taking care of Actor.

Yet now he was focusing more on Wilford's weight gently leaning on him. The texture of his fur coat pressed up against Dark. The smell of bubblegum and cotton candy, with a hint of gunpowder. The way Wilford waved his free hand as he spoke.

Wilford looked over “Yeah?” He asked lightly.

“Would you mind accompanying me on a walk through the garden? It’s nice out, today”

Wils eyes lit up “Of course, gumdrop! One sec, let me grab my jacket!” he said, dropping his cards and running off to his room.

Bing noticed Dark straightening out his tie or suit more than usual. His almost nervous body language. His occasional deep breaths.

“Ooooh are you finally gonna do it?” Bing asked with a sly grin.

Dark glanced at the group of egos, who now all had their eyes on him, all with varying levels of excitement and anticipation.

“I swear if you all try to spy, I will ground every last one of you till next year” Dark scolded

The Jims looked very disappointed, showing they had had every intention to do so.

“Fine, fine. Everyone knows it’s gonna go well anyways. Go sweep your man off his feet” Bing said. Despite being somewhat teasing, there was a decent amount of sincerity and support in his tone. Yancy, Bim, and Illinois chirped in their own genuine agreement and support, causing Dark to feel deep gratitude for all of them.

Even if they had been a little intrusive throughout this whole process, he couldn’t help but feel happy that he was supported in this big scary step.

“Thank you” He said with a brief nod, still unsure about how to respond to such overwhelming positivity, and headed to the back door to wait for Wilford.

Soon, he saw his boyfriend barrel down the stairs, pulling on his pink fur coat. Wilford hooked his arm around Dark's arm and grinned “Let's go” He said happily.

Dark chuckled softly at Wilford's ever-constant enthusiasm, and headed out into the garden. “How’s your day been, my love?” Dark asked as they walked.

“I finally found out where my candy stash has been disappearing to! Turns out Dr. Iplier has a MAJOR sweet tooth.”

“Is that so?” Dark asked, a little amused.

Wilford nodded, leaning into Dark a bit as they walked. “Yeah. Which is so hypocritical considering that he insists candy kills you. Granted he says EVERYTHING kills you so I guess that’s not saying much...”

Dark could hardly focus on Wilfords words. Not that he didn’t enjoy Wilford's ramblings. He always loved hearing Wilford's excited explanations of typically mundane things.

“What a coincidence,” Wilford said with a grin, “I have something to ask you too”

“Wilford?” Dark asked, walking into the living room, where Wil was currently playing Uno with the Jim Twins, Bim, Bing, Illinois and Yancy.

Soon they reached a point of the garden that was as far from the Manor as they could get. He felt Wilford let go of his arm, presumably to pick a flower or mess with a butterfly he found. He took the free second to take a breath and reached into his pocket.

He pulled out the box and opened it, taking a shaky breath, “Wilford, I have to ask you someth-”

Dark froze when he finally looked at Wilford. He was on one knee, holding a small black box, with a dark crystal holding soft tints of blue and red, encircled by a black metal band.

Wilford kept speaking about his day, full of energy. The energy that completed Dark.

#sam21 writes #darkstache #darkiplier oneshot #darkstache oneshot #markiplier oneshot #Wilford Warfstache #wilford warfstache oneshot #darkiplier x wilford #he/they darkiplier #marriage proposal #proposal fic #pastel bubblegum #sleep deprived in 3d #3d pastels

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fangsofsin · 1 month ago

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#I’m getting distracted by these 3 fics I have in my wip #actor mark #darkiplier #god of night #damien the mayor #wilford warfstache #yancy #Illinois #dave torres

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rapturemctro · 1 year ago

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Rating: General Audience Pairing: William Barnum x Specter x Mayor Damien Warnings: Canon x Self Insert, Tooth rotting fluff, a smidge of angst Word Count: 2209 Summary: It’s the big day, the happiest moments of their lives! This is still one of my favorites <3

The silence was deafening, as pools of blue stared blankly at the unfamiliar woman before her. How strange it was to gaze upon your own reflection, but even then there was someone looking back you recognized. However that was not the case for Kaylina, she was used to dressing formally. Her appearance holding a professional, commanding confidence to it, she however was not used to her appearance holding elegance, making her appear gentle and almost otherworldly. The beautiful, billowing wedding dress felt foreign on the young Psychologist, the lace and satins hugged her frame in a way she wasn’t used to. Had she always had these curves? This was her special day, and if it hadn’t been for the compromise she made with her fiancés, the whole ceremony would be a much more casual setting so she could be in the comfort of her button ups and ties.

Seeing as how the spectacle was being kept on the down low, it seemed only fair to abide by Damien’s wishes. If he wasn’t able to have his grand over the top wedding where he could invite friends and family alike, the least Kaylina could do was wear a dress and take the form of an elegant, ethereal being for the time being. Anything for her soon to be husbands. The thought bringing a smile to her distant expression, how after today they would be bound together in holy matrimony and no one could ever invalidate their relationship ever again. They would be a Family.

“Don’t you look positively radiant” a sudden voice echoed through the stillness, if the young psychologist wasn’t already well adjusted to the booming baritone she would have more than likely jumped out of her skin at the disturbance. Bright eyes slid towards the doorway, the smile replaced with a quirked eyebrow, a blank thoughtful look taking up its place. Having stepped through the doorway were none other then her soon to be husbands.

William and Damien dressed to the nines and looking absolutely ravishing. William’s usual Safari attire had been replaced with a nice tux for the big day, even though his slacks and most of the ensemble were black he insisted on wearing a light pink blazer to offset the darker shades. His usually shaggy hair combed back nicely, and his glasses set on the bridge of his nose. William held a beaming grin, eyes traveling over every inch of the bride. “My darling Kaylina, I don’t think I’ve seen a more beautiful bride” he mused taking a step towards her, arms outstretched. “And you won’t get to see one again if you don’t turn yourself around and march on back to the altar, don’t you know it’s bad luck to see a bride in her gown before the ceremony!”

“I tried to tell him” Damien’s voice piped up, and it was only now that Kaylina noted his take on the situation. Unlike William who had no problems with breaking all known rules, Damien was huddled close to the door, hand raised over his eyes in an attempt to shield the psychologist from his view. The mayor looked as he did every other day, dressed comfortably in a black tux, hair smoothed back, freehand lightly holding onto the end of his cane. Even if he looked as he did everyday, that didn’t make him any less handsome, the slight quirks of a smile could be seen peeking out from behind his hand.

“Oh pish posh you two, absolute poppycock if you ask me. Why it’s preposterous to believe in those old wive’s tales” William remarked, a hearty chuckle following his statement, only receiving a cold stare from the bride to be, “Well then, if one of us ends up dead or we end up divorced then we’ll know who to blame” the chill to those words had William stop in his tracks, a baffled look crossing his features. Absolutely dumbfounded by Kaylina’s words, after a moment or two of silence light fits of giggles arose from the psychologist, stepping forward to plant a gentle kiss of her fiancé’s cheek, “I’m just messing with you my love” she cooed, gently cradling his face in her hands, “It would take some otherworldly phenomenon to separate the three of us”

A hum of agreement rumbled from William’s chest placing a sweet kiss on the palm of Kaylina’s hand, gently cradling her hand in his larger one. “It would take the work of the devil himself to separate me from you” he murmured against her hand. A content sigh escaped the woman’s lips, as she pulled her hand away, “Go, before you get us all in trouble” a groan resonated from William as he rolled his eyes, placing one last tender kiss on his fiancé’s knuckles before retreating from the room. Blue eyes slowly made their way towards the other figure who had silently edged his way into the room, still casting his gaze to the far end of the expanses, respecting his fiancés wishes. “Are you nervous?” Damien’s voice sounded meek for once, and his usual suave confidence was gone, hands trembling as they gripped at the end of his cane.

“Are you?”

He paused, brows furrowing slightly as if assessing his own feelings at the moment, “I’m excited, I don’t think I’ve been this excited since... since we won the election” He chuckled, rigid posture slowly starting to relax as he spoke, Kaylina felt herself drawn to him, gently placing her hands on top of his, a smile holding her features. “Then why are your hands trembling?”

“Because I’m about to marry the love of my life, and she’s absolutely breathtaking” his gaze finally turned to look her in the eyes, she could feel the absolute love and adoration spilling from his gaze. Fingers entwined together, as he gently lifted her hand to his lips placing chaste kisses against her knuckles. “You’ve been so distant today, are you sure you’re not nervous?” His voice was soft, laced with concern. Even when he spoke softly his voice was so clear and so professional. “What do I have to be nervous about? Like you said, I’m about to get married and share the rest of my life with two amazing men. I couldn’t be happier” she mused. “Now if you don’t take your handsome ass down to that alter, there won’t be a wedding to be had” eloping was still an option at this point, and she wasn’t above suggesting such a scandalous alternative. Damien’s smile only grew into a beaming grin, “Fine, if I must depart... I will see you shortly” he placed a swift kiss on her cheek before turning on his heels and sauntered out of the room leaving Kaylina with a warm fluttering feeling in her heart, and a twitterpated smile holding to her face.

—

The distant organ’s keys echoed through the church as Kaylina slowly made her way down the aisle, blue eyes locked on the two figures standing waiting at the end of this trip, her hands held tightly to the bouquet of light pink and blue roses. Besides the haunting melody that seemed to drown out all other sounds, the room was silent. Among the audience were only a small handful of trusted friends and whatever family that approved of the Union. As she finally made her way to the altar, her gaze shifted between William and Damien, noticing their distant gaze. Following their line of sight she noticed the way their eyes held tightly to a pair of seats, empty. Mark and Celine. She felt her heart drop for her beloveds, there was no guarantee that the couple would even show.

Their last conversation as friends hadn’t ended so well, from the limited information she had been given the quartet of friends had gotten into an argument. Something stupid, and it slowly brought up deeper seeded issues, jealousy and concerns that had been buried deep down to keep face, to try and protect each other, tensions had finally boiled over and it seems as if everyone was done with playing make believe. Damien was heartbroken, left trying to pick up the pieces and set things right. However that was easier said than done when your childhood friend and twin sister refused to speak to you. In a last attempt to extend the olive branch, it was Damien who sent the invites to their wedding.

The trio’s attention was drawn away from the disappointing reality when they heard the pastor clears his throat, before raising his hands to address the audience, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of these three lovely beings; William Barnum, Kaylina Morton, and Damien Gaumond in marriage. Today you enter as individuals, but you will leave here as a family, blending your lives, expanding your family ties, and embarking upon the grandest adventure of human interaction. The story of your life together is still yours to write. All those present have come to witness and celebrate your love and commitment this day- eager to be a part of a story not yet told”

The pastor continued on with his speech, Kaylina could feel Damien gently squeeze her hand, her thumb trailing over his knuckles, she could tell from the distant look in his eyes he was disappointed. Disappointed that his sister wasn’t here, wasn’t present for the happiest day of his life. She gave his hand a light squeeze in return, a silent reassurance. “Let us continue on to the vows, Do you Damien Gaumond, take Kaylina Morton to be your lawfully wedded wife, promising to love and cherish, through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, and whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do”

“Do you Kaylina Morton, take Damien Gaumond to be your lawfully wedded husband, promising to love and cherish, through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, and whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do”

After the responses followed justly, the Pastor turned towards William, as the taller man carefully took Kaylina’s hand in his, a beaming smile holding tightly to his features, “And do you William Barnum, take Kaylina Morton to be your lawfully wedded wife, promising to love and cherish, through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, and whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do!” He chuckled, beaming down at the smaller woman.

“And finally” the pastor paused as light fits of good natured laughter floated from the crowd, “Do you Kaylina Morton, take William Barnum to be your lawfully wedded husband, promising to love and cherish, through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, and whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?”

At this point Kaylina couldn’t help but laugh along with William, “I do” After receiving the final response, the pastor motioned for the ring bearer to step forward, as Damien carefully picked up the silver band holding out his hand for Kaylina’s, “With this ring, I thee wed” he spoke before sliding the band onto her finger. In suit Kaylina picked up the two bronze rings, repeating the action between Damien and William, “With this ring, I thee wed”

“And now, by the power vested in me, I hereby pronounce you husbands and wife! You may kiss your bride”

Cheers erupted from the audience, before Kaylina could even react she felt two kisses placed quickly on her cheeks. A giggle fell from her lips as she gently grasped Damien’s face, placing a soft kiss on his lips before turning towards William planting a kiss on his.

As she broke away a bright smile took hold of her features, smiling and laughing happily alongside her newly appointed husbands. Bright eyes turned to gaze at the beautiful, silver wedding band resting on her finger. The sounds from the crowds, the boisterous laughter coming from her husband, all the noise that surrounded her started to fade away, the color draining from the world around her as reality started to fade. Lifeless eyes slowly lifted from the ring, still resting on her hand. The colors had been sapped from the world, nothing but the dark, inky expanses of the void laid before her. She felt tears burn at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill. Her knees hit the ground, long auburn locks fanning out around her, she could still hear the echoes of William’s laughter floating on the stillness as the distant memory faded away into oblivion.

“Another dream?” A cold, calculating voice ripped through the silence. Dark. A sullen smile found its way onto Specter’s features, hollow eyes staring blankly, as her fingertips lightly trailed over the surface of her wedding ring, following the curves and swirls of the design, “A memory” she corrected. Her body shook as she tried to repress the tears that threatened to fall, she didn’t want to break down in front of Dark. He always spoke about how letting your emotions control you made you weak. Unbeknownst to Specter, a single tear made its way down Dark’s cheek, watching the broken shell of his wife struggle to hold herself together.

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doctordiscord123 · 1 month ago

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Whumptober 2024: Public Display

The Actor shows off his prized possession.

For @whumptober, @whumptober-archive

Commission Info | Buy me a ko-fi

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The Actor strolled through the manor, through his vast number of his halls and rooms. It was all for him. All his to own. His.

He came upon the ballroom, and his ever-present grin widened, pushing open the doors with a dramatic flair. The party was in full swing, high-end people from all over gathered here to celebrate the Actor’s…accomplishments. To admire his display pieces.

All along the walls of the ballroom, there were cages. And in each cage, there was a man. The Actor had gathered them all, had plucked them from wherever they were in the world, and brought them here. He had made it easy for him. Most of them were already home. There was the Adventurer, the Prisoner, the Engineer. The Android, the Superhero, the Cannibal. There was the Prophet, the Twins, the Doctor – and there was, of course, that oh so irritating little brother of his. And then there was him. The Actor’s masterpiece.

There were others, of course. The Actor didn’t have the time nor the memory to list them all. They were all here, locked away, to be admired and awed. The Actor played his roles well. So well, they’d taken on life of their own. Life they thought was their own. But they belonged to him. And they would listen to him. Or else…well. The Actor wasn’t afraid of letting things get a little unsavory.

Read the rest on Ao3!

#whumptober2024 #no.23 #public display #markiplier egos #fic #kidnapping #dehumanization #the actor #actor!mark #darkiplier #wilford warfstache #my writing

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fictionalsownme · 3 months ago

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More Than A Woman | wilford warfstache x gn!viewer / reader |

chapter one - "I've known you very well"

A/N: hi everyone!! I'm so excited to post this! Usually I spend a long time on the stuff I write but I wrote a good chunk of this in a feverish burst haha, I've been wanting to write for Wil and had such a clear idea of how I see him in my head for so long :)) This fic will probably be around 10 chapters~ish and progress will probably be a little slow but I'm also trying to get faster at my writing so I guess we'll see! Getting it down is always the hardest, then you spend a bit of time hating it, then the fixing can start! Anyway, I hope you guys like this, I love this dorky weirdo a lot for whatever reason, and I'd love to write for other egos too :) ((there might be a guest appearance or two in here in the last few chapters if plans don't change 👀)) hope you guys enjoy the first chapter at least! lmk 🥰! word count: 2.9k notes: reader is gender-neutral, similar to all of mark's stuff :) -- the title is just after the song! no pronouns or descriptors are used other than the occasional they/them. reader is the viewer (& district attorney) from wkm, adwm, ahwm, iswm, etc, but that won't come up until later. wmlw wilford. story will be mostly fluff, some hurt/comfort & angst, lots of romance and flirting! story is adapted from an idea I had for my self insert. we will get into some lore stuff (or at least my understanding of the lore 👀) and filling in gaps with headcannons, but it's mostly about wilford & reader and I'll try to explain as we go so don't worry about it too much if you don't know all of it. especially since I don't know if my understanding is always 100% accurate 👉👈 let's have fun yall! 💞

masterlist | AO3

The music playing softly over the convenience store speakers was pleasant, if slightly boring. Like elevator music— there only to help ease the passing of time. Your night shift would end soon, and the sky could be seen as it lightened more every minute through the windowed front of the building.

Other than that, the old store was quiet. Dusty. Pink and orange neon strips lined the walls near the ceiling. They overpowered the dated fluorescent lights, casting everything in a slightly peach haze. Like a dream.

Different sections of the store were marked with neon too, the letters glowed against the wall denoting the drinks, the snacks, the hot food… You liked your little store. Even if the unyielding isolation of your work made you a bit… complacent. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d truly talked with someone.

The ice creams chilled your fingers through the wrappers as you pulled them from their box and slotted them into place. Even with the cold air of the freezer wafting over you, you could smell the cool summer air coming in the sliding front doors.

You liked to prop them open on dawns like these. The convenience store lights did draw in the occasional pestering bug, but they usually found their way out again before long. You did get a bat once. Albeit a little crazed and frantic, you were surprised to find it harmless. Maybe a little lost. Now that thing seemed like it would never leave.

Refocusing on your task, you brushed your condensation-soaked fingers on your work apron, tied tight behind your neck and around your back, and shut the freezer door.

The motion alert chimed a pleasant tune through the staticky old speakers as a customer entered the open doors from the street.

You called an automatic, “Welcome in~,” and went about straightening a shelf of snack bars and chocolate. You didn’t bother to look in their direction as you heard them make their way through the aisles.

“Pardon me,” said their strange, nearly British accent from beside you now. You turned to the source of the voice, the man who’d just walked in, and your eyes went to his outfit first.

A silky-- almost sparkly in how it caught the light-- lavender shirt with mismatched buttons revealed expanses of his bare chest. It was paired with white bell-bottoms and a fake pink afro hanging half-off his head, about to fall off. He had olive skin and dark hair-- nearly black--, fluffy and sticking up every which way like hands had been running through it. Scruffy facial hair framed a thick mustache that tinted slightly pink where it turned up at the ends.

He looked… honestly, he looked ridiculous. But the 70s getup was fun, you supposed. And his eyes-- dark brown and monolid-- were handsome. Underneath all the… extra mess. You blinked, slowly, in a way that felt like waking up.

“Uh, hi. Are you coming from a costume party or something?” It was August, but you supposed it was never too early to start the spooky season.

“Oh! Do you know of one? I do love a good costume. But no. Just the regular-sort. Just woke up from one.” He scanned the products near his head, grabbed a protein bar, sniffed the wrapper, guffawed, and put it back.

“You just woke up? Are you alright?”

“Oh, worry not, friend, this is normal for my level of reverie! I’m not even hungover!” He laughed, his hands going to his hips.

You stared at him.

“I was just looking for something to gnaw on! To nourish myself before I’m on my way.” His eyes were still traveling all over, not really seeing you.

Now in theory, a strange man coming in at this hour, acting even stranger, with his clothes disheveled? You knew you should be on your way to your safe space behind the counter to get him checked out and exiting the store as fast as possible. But there was something about him…

Something you couldn’t place…

Instead you raised your eyebrows and relaxed against the cooler door. “Uh, I guess that depends on what kind of food you like,” You offered. After a moment, his gaze landed on you and he seemed to finally take you in. Your uniform, your crossed arms, your patient expression, your features. His face scrunched into confusion.

A moment passed, staring at each other like that. “Your shirt’s looking a little rough, you know.”

“Have we met, friend?” He asked as he began to fix his buttons.

You watched passively as more of his chest came into view. He either didn’t notice or didn’t mind your blatant staring. You weren’t sure why you were staring, or what you were feeling as you did so.

You weren’t gawking at his abs or anything-- well,-- not that he didn’t have abs. He did, sort of. The expanse of his chest and abdomen were tight with toned muscle. He definitely wasn’t lacking abs, anyway. Either way… this was about something different.

You wondered for a moment if a vague familiarity was what you were picking up on, but quickly dismissed it.

“I feel like I’d remember meeting you.”

You realized with a start that your comment could be seen as flirtatious, and added quickly, “Just, you know-- generally.”

But he just hummed and spun on his heels, turning away. You sighed and found yourself in-step behind him, hands in your uniform pockets. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Well, either way!” He started, his energy returning tenfold. “Let's see what this cute little shop has to eat!”

For some reason, you asked, “Do you have money?”

He froze. “Er, no~. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind what?”

“Well, spotting me of course! Let’s just say I owe you one, eh friend?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Thought so.”

Thought so? Maybe you did know him…

It was your turn to squint in displaced confusion. “What’s your name?”

His voice came from behind you and you spun around, your shoes squeaking on the tile floor. When did he sneak around you?

He bent over and twirled his hand, a flamboyant bow finally knocking the afro off his head. “Wilford Warfstache, at your service.”

“That’s your name?”

He righted himself. “For now.” It suited him well enough, but for some reason it sounded misplaced.

… But no, either way, you definitely hadn’t met him before. You didn’t know many people in the first place, let alone someone so eccentric.

Still, you were curious about him. Curious about his personality and who he was. He felt sort of like a puzzle waiting to be solved. And so far, despite his quirks, despite how admittedly weird you’d also been acting, he’d been friendly. You couldn’t say the staring and prodding questions were too in-character for you. At least not when it came to customers.

His hair looked softer without the wig to weigh it down-- parted at his brow and long enough to fluff over the tips of his ears and end where his neck met his spine. You reached down to scoop the curly mop of synthetic hair up off the floor.

“Where did you get this thing?”

He hummed something like ‘I don’t know’, his eyes sort of wide like a clueless puppy’s.

“What, you just kind of have it?”

“Yea’p.”

You squinted at him, a smirk forming on your lips. “How about I do you a favor and throw this away?”

He shrugged, hummed an ‘alright’ sound, and turned away.

“Oh no, I was kidding! God, here--!” You had to grab his wrist to stop him from wandering off further and placed the pink afro in his hand.

You had just been trying to tease him, but now you just felt bad. “Look, Wilford, you want something to eat? We have to throw the hot food out every night. You can have a taquito or a slice of pizza or something if you want.”

Then he was frozen again-- staring down at where your fingers wrapped around his wrist. Your eyes followed his gaze down and then you were staring too.

A moment passed. Then two. Finally, you let go and crossed your arms again, tucking your hands away where they couldn’t embarrass you again.

“... Fuck, I’m sorry. I-I don’t know why I did that.” You did your best to clear your throat.

But he was still stuck there. He blinked a few times and his gaze met your eyes, his brows gathering together.

“Wh-What did you say your name was, friend?” He seemed so… serious all of sudden. So dire.

You hadn’t mentioned it yet, but told him with a hesitant voice.

His expression blanked, eyes widening. He brought his arm, the offending afro in tow, to his chest, touching his wrist where you’d held it.

“Oh…”

You raised your brows and asked softly, “Sorry, do you know me, then?”

“Hm?” And he blinked like his mind was clearing, like he’d forgotten you were there.

He cleared his throat, smiled-- ear to ear-- his mustache lopsided like a cartoon. “Oh-- nevermind about that! Some food would be lovely, if you don’t mind.”

His eyes were sparkling.

“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing fancy. Here,” And you walked over towards the front counter. Wilford trailed close behind you-- holding onto the wig in his hands like a school kid holding a lunch box-- his gaze wandering over the store again like he hadn’t seen it the first time.

You arrived at the hot foods section, a glassed-off section of day-old food over heated rods. You shrugged. “If you have a sensitive stomach, maybe don’t,” you started, “but it’s mostly fine to be honest. I eat it if I’m in a pinch, you know.”

You hopped up to sit on the counter, your legs facing Wilford, and leaned back to reach around and grab the tongs waiting there. You straightened and clapped them together twice. You offered him a smile. “What’ll it be, Mr. Warfstache?” Then a quieter, “--that was your last name right?”

“Do you gravitate towards anything yourself?”

“Can’t go wrong with a slice of pizza, I guess. Even here.”

His smile grew sort of soft. “Then that. If you please.”

“You got it.”

You leaned over again and served up the slice of moderately warm and slightly greasy pizza on a brown napkin and passed it off to him.

“Much obliged.”

You got one for yourself too, and when you righted and your eyes found Wilford again, he was sitting in a retro-style diner chair you’d never seen before-- his feet against the edge of the counter beside you.

You couldn’t help the surprised laughter that choked out of you. “Wha-- where did you even find that?”

The chair teetered on its two legs as he leaned precariously back, tilting his head at your question. The pink wig sat in his lap and you couldn’t help thinking it looked like some weird dog.

“Well, there’s no need to worry! I’m only borrowing it, I’m not a barbarian.”

And you just knew you weren’t getting more of an answer than that.

“So who even are you?” You asked as he took a bite of the pizza, somehow pulling all the cheese right off the top in one piece. He pouted down at the offending mozzarella, slurping it into his mouth and swallowing it. “Do you live around here?”

“Mm. I don’t really live anywhere. Much more the exploring-- ever on the move-- type.”

He was so expressive. It really felt like talking to an old cartoon come-to-life or something. You turned to lean against the side of the glass cover, swinging your legs so your feet rested on the counter, not far from his still against the edge. You weren’t touching at all, but you were surprised at how quickly the two of you fell into a casual-- albeit timidly curious-- rhythm.

“So what do you do?” And you began to eat too.

He beamed, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes. “I’m an interviewer! Warfstache Tonight, that’s what my show is called! It’s quite a professional endeavor!”

You smiled and hummed around your bite of pizza, impressed. That actually explained a lot. And it suited him nicely enough. “Sounds pretty glamorous.”

“And what about you? You can’t just be a convenience store clerk!” He seemed so affronted by the idea. Crinkling his nose, dropping his voice an octave. “How dreadfully boring.”

You winced. “‘Just a convenience store clerk?’ Ouch, Wilford…” You couldn’t help frowning down at your slice.

“Oh! No no, pardon me!” He let the chair fall back to four legs, waving the idea way with a panicked hand. “I only meant that… this isn't what truly stirs your passions, is it? Do you do anything at your leisure? For work or just… something you enjoy?”

You squinted at him. But you didn’t really think he was trying to insult you. And he wasn’t wrong. It just… wasn’t always the most fun when someone pointed it out. Especially like that.

You sighed, fidgeting as you considered his question. “Not right now… This job keeps me pretty occupied. But you know, it’s not too bad. It keeps me, I don’t know, grounded I guess.”

He thought for a moment, then nodded, taking another bite. “I do hope you get more opportunities soon, then.” He said, surprisingly grounded.

You looked at him. “... Thanks.” And you meant it.

“And… my apologies for the earlier, uh, miswording.”

“That’s fine… I’d be curious to hear more about your show, though! Have you interviewed anyone interesting or anything?”

A beat. A sort of tiredness settled into his shoulders and he peered up at you. “The odd gold-star guest did wander in from time to time. I’m not sure if my skills were quite deserving of them at the time.”

Was that… shame?

“The truth is, I couldn’t quite live up to the role. I--” He laughed, pained. He cleared his throat. “I’m taking a bit of a break from show business for the moment.”

Ah. So that’s what happened. You offered him a sympathetic smile. “To party? That’s probably why you don’t have any money, Wilford. And why you have to rely on shitty convenience store food?” You held up your greasy napkin like it was evidence.

“Now don’t underestimate the power of a good party! And this food is fine, I’m grateful for it,” He crumpled the now empty napkin and gestured wildly with it. “The truth is I get by just fine. I’m just not sure what else I should be doing.”

You looked out the front windows. The sky was getting lighter. The timer marking the end of your shift would go off any minute.

So maybe that’s why he’d been asking you about your passions. You felt bad for him. He was strange, to be sure. And a little hard to follow. But he was also… sweet. He had a softness about him.

And still… there was that feeling that hadn’t disappeared since meeting him. Like… like your soul recognized him. Maybe not deeply. But distantly. Like you’d met him in a dream. It was a ridiculous notion. Ridiculous didn’t seem beyond his territory.

You turned, legs coming down from the counter once again. You leaned forward, your hand landing at the junction of his shoulder and neck. His silk shirt was soft under your fingers. His eyes jumped up to yours and you looked down at him with a smile.

“You liked doing your show right? You want to be an interviewer?”

He nodded slowly. His lashes fluttered.

“Then that’s what you should be doing! You just have to try again!” You shrugged with one shoulder. “It might suck a lot. And you might fail again. But pick yourself back up. Keep going. I’m sure you can do it if you keep at it and think outside the box, you know. Failing only means failing if you stop.”

You leaned back, your hand sliding away. He stared at you.

“That’s what the rest of us do, anyway. Honestly, maybe you should do your show online! You know, livestream it or something. I’m sure you’d find your own way to it.”

Slowly, a smile crept back in, the corners of his eyes creasing.

“What a wonderful idea…”

God, his eyes…

You looked down at your own napkin, laughing a little at yourself. “Wilford, I promise, the advice I just gave you was nothing crazy.”

“Well, perhaps it’s just a little too rare that I get a pick-me-up.”

You hopped down from the counter. “Swing by whenever, I’ll hand them out for free. Though, if you’re always on the move, I guess you’re probably not in town for long, huh?”

He quickly followed your lead and stood, his chair nearly falling in his haste. “Uh— w-well I, I don’t know, I could always… linger for a day or two. Hard to say really.”

“Uh huh.” You smirked at him, raising your brows. “Well, if that constant partying you have going on brings you back here, feel free stop in, okay? … It’d be nice to have someone in here every once in a while. Well, someone friendly, anyway.”

“Right. Will do. Of course.”

You gave him two solid pats on the chest and turned to throw the napkins away behind the counter. When you turned to face him again, he was gone. Only slightly confused, you quickly recovered and yelled a quick, “bye~!” to the now empty store.

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justyoursicanon · 1 month ago

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Headcanons I wrote in school today

📌 Imagine the chase music you hear in Flee the Facility. Wilford has his own. It's either carnival or carousel music.

📌 Bing sometimes calls Google 'Connor' or 'RK800' to reference Connor from Detroit Become Human.

(He sets Google's friend nickname as RK800 in his chats with him)

(I think it would be ironic, from what little info I know about DBH, Connor is a deviant, and since deviants are androids that go against their programming from what I found in the fandom wiki when I skimmed through it, I find it funny thinking about Bing calling Google Connor knowing Google is the exact opposite)

📌 In return, Google calls Bing 'Deviant' on rare occasions.

(Thought it was fitting)

📌 Damien prefers milk chocolate, Celine prefers dark chocolate.

(Celine would find milk chocolate too sweet. Damien has a sweet tooth)

📌 Bing was originally programmed to learn and enhance through watching visual representations such as demonstrations and performances.

(One of my main headcanons for Bing is that he was created as a prototype for what I made up called 'Browser-Bots')

(Eventually I'll post the backstory of what 'Browser-Bots' are)

📌 The hankerchief that Eric always carries belonged to his mother

This is a long one:

📌 Yandereplier actually goes to college rather than high-school.

While she is still an obsessed loving maniac, she's grownto be more discreet and careful.

She's still incredibly skilled with her daggers and katanas.

She still styles her outfits with same colors as her original high-school uniform.

She also looks androgynous.

📌 Bim still hosts his original gameshow, but he often invites actual horrible people, like criminals and assaulters.

(Google, mostly Google Red, and Bing help track down Bim's contestants to kidnap invite them to his gameshow)

(Bim still eats the losers😋)

📌 Yancy calls Dark 'Boss'

(I found this headcanon on a tumblr post to which i cannot find, if you happen to stumble upon it please send the link or @ me because I NEED to reblog it again)

📌 Dark pays for Yancy's monthly paroles in envelopes and sends them to the prison.

(Gonna need to research on this more because I don't know shit about it LMAO)

📌 Illionis visits the Manor every month with Heist Mark being his travel buddy.

(Brings home souvenirs for the egos, asked or not)

(Sort of his love language)

📌 Google Red is a research extension, he summarizes the information he finds and has a built-in plagiarism detector.

He actually likes researching history.

He helps Yandereplier by teaching her history lessons.

(I headcanon the Google's are actually Google Blue's extensions. Uh not sure if that's actually canon or not)

(And since I like to think they are different extensions, they have their respective uses in their programming that benefit themselves and together as a whole.)

📌 Google Green hates Duolingo.

📌 Google Yellow loves it.

📌King of the Squirrels started dressing more formally when out in the forest, and more comfortably when in the Manor.

Started dividing the Manor's supply of peanut butter into different small containers for him and his squirrels.

📌 Murdock (Murderplier) hates Wilford.

But Wilford is also his favourite weapon buddy.

("Don't bring a knife to a gun fight my ASS Warfstache.")

📌 God of Night is constantly fascinated suspicious of The Host whenever Night drops by the Manor.

📌 Damien and Celine both play the piano. Dark plays the Violin.

📌 King of The Squirrels enjoys gardening.

📌 Bing plays the drums and or the electric guitar.

📌 Dr. Iplier actually owns prescribed glasses but for some reason never wears them.

(He just forgets and refuses to wear them)

That's all the headcanons I had today folks, and majority of this filled up one side of one intermediate page LMAO

I'm honestly so happy I'm spending time on writing when I have nothing to do in school, I'll try to keep this up.

I've also made drafts of some of my oneshot ideas from my previous post!

Many fics coming soon!!

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franklyshipping · 2 years ago

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Tickling His Guard Down ~ A Markiplier Ego Fanfic

WOOOO HERE WE HAVE A FIC BASED OFF A GLORIOUS ANON PROMPT WITH OUR FAVOURITE BUBBLEGUM BOI AND OUR GRUMPY FNAF GUARD, SO LET’S DO THIS!

Wilford Warfstache was in a traipsing mood. This kind of mood involved the flamboyant man letting his whims carry him through the manor, until such a time as something caught his interest. Currently he was humming an absent tune, not at all thinking about where he was going – such was the man’s haphazard nature. Eventually though he found a glimmer of focus, and realised he’d made it to the very top floor of the manor. Here resided a few bedrooms, some of the largest in fact, since they’d all been converted from attic spaces. And as it so happened, one of those bedroom doors was ajar.

Wilford peeked inside, and beamed when he spotted none other than Guard, the paranoid FNAF security fellow turned ultimate-sarcastic-grump-meister. The man was lying on his bed, flinging playing cards with great accuracy into his trashcan, which was lying on its side a few feet away. Wilford realised that he’d never actually seen inside the man’s room before, and of course his curiosity was insatiable. So Wilford, actually remembering his manners for once, knocked on the door.

‘What?’

Guard called, and Wilford stuck his head in the doorway with a bright grin.

‘Eeeevening.’

Guard raised an eyebrow, not moving from his bed.

‘Can I help you?’

Wilford’s head inched into the room slightly, his grin widening as he put on his sweetest butter-wouldn’t-melt voice.

‘Actually you can! You see I was just having a little wander, just letting the wibbly-wobbly time continuum guide me on my way, when I realised that I’ve never actually been up here before! Or if I have then I can’t remember… anyhoo! I was just wondering if I could have a little looksie around, if that’s alright with you. I swear you won’t even know I’m here!’

Guard blinked at his impromptu guest. He was hesitant, for a number of reasons. After everything Guard had been though he was incredibly protective of his private space – it was his sanctuary of solitude away from the rest of the world, a place where he knew for certain he was safe. Also he was keenly aware of how easily Wilford could bring chaos into every situation. Despite these points however… Guard actually quite liked Wilford. He was an interesting breed of innocent weirdness and maybe, just maybe, Guard had left his door ajar on purpose… in the hope of someone noticing.

‘Sure, why not.’

‘Why thank you very kindly!’

Guard held back a smile at Wilford’s enthusiasm and watched as he sauntered into the room, and set about taking eager interest in… well, everything. To be fair though, Guard had more of a mini apartment at his disposal than simply a bedroom. He had a kitchenette with worn wooden surfaces, a huge en-suite bathroom, access to a fire escape so he could come and go unseen, and his own wifi router – though Wilford got especially excited when he looked through Guard’s weapons closet, where his flamethrower was displayed in pride of place. Wilford got excited by every little thing, babbling like a hyper kid as Guard tried not to laugh at how endearing he was being. Wilford sat himself on Guard’s bed with a dramatic sigh after his inspection, giving Guard a delighted grin.

‘I mean you basically have a mini house in here! With all this stuff you barely ever have to leave!’

‘Yeah, that’s kinda the point…’

Guard paused, realising what he’d said. He cleared his throat and fiddled with his playing cards as Wilford’s expression softened. Wilford knew the desire for isolation and self-preservation when he saw it, for he had seen it so many times before with his loved ones; though everyone always had their own reasons. He tilted his head at Guard softly.

‘Why?’

Guard shrugged, avoiding Wilford’s eye and continuing to fidget.

‘I guess… I’ve always felt better with my own company.’

Wilford nodded gently. He could tell Guard wasn’t quite ready to open up all the way, which was understandable given everything he’d gone through. Even after having such a victory over evil, when all was said an done he was ultimately alone, hardly able to share his experiences with anyone lest he be labelled as crazy. Wilford could relate to that. He was eager to help make Guard feel more at ease around him, and so brightened his smile to him.

‘Well I bet your company is a fine one to have! I know I’d love to have it from time to time, and I’ve heard on the grapevine that my company is pretty spectacular!’

Wilford waggled his eyebrows, and for a few moments Guard was speechless… because that was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him before. He even almost let out a genuine smile, especially with Wilford bigging himself up like the endearing goof that he was. However Guard, as per his habits, let his sarcastic self get the better of him.

‘You think your company’s really that great do you?’

Wilford blinked, then gaped when he picked up on the sass. Guard snorted at Wilford’s suddenly dramatic expression, which made Wilford narrow his eyes at him as he exclaimed.

‘You dare sass at Wilford Warfstache?! In all my incomprehensible decades of living I have NEVER been so insulted!’

Guard snorted again, he couldn’t help it! He had a love for winding people up that he sometimes just couldn’t ignore… but little did he know that today, there would be consequences. Wilford wasn’t going to take Guard’s attitude lightly, and as he flicked his gaze over the smug man he contemplated. A punishment was certainly in order, something torturous enough to teach him a lesson, but also playful enough to perhaps help him loosen up… aha. Wilford’s eyes gleamed with the perfect idea. Before Guard knew it, Wilford’s hands had latched onto his ankles. Guard spluttered as he was tugged into a lying position on his bed, his playing cards spilling from his hands as Wilford sat on his legs.

‘Hey–what the hell?! Get your damn candy ass off me!’

Wilford chuckled and tutted, wrestling with Guard’s flailing hands as he replied.

‘Now now settle down you! Fighting will only make this worse!’

‘Make what worse?! Get off you–no!’

Guard yelped when Wilford successfully pinned his wrists down under his knees, the moustached man letting out a satisfied sigh as Guard wriggled and grunted under him.

‘That’s better!’

‘No it isn’t! Let me go right the hell now!’

‘No can do I’m afraid! Not until you’ve taken your punishment for being a sassy little shit.’

Wilford grinned as Guard glared up art him, a mix of confused and annoyed as he tried to figure out what in the hell Wilford was talking about.

‘What the hell you mean punishme–?’

Then, Guard’s voice got stuck in his throat. Wilford has chosen that moment to splay his fingers across Guard’s taut, vulnerable stomach. He was only wearing a thin, grey t-shirt, meaning that Wilford’s light touch sent some rather intense, ticklish sparks through his midriff. His reaction made Wilford’s grin widen.

‘Well now, what have we here?’

‘N-Nothing.’

Guard swallowed thickly, trying to keep his composure… but deep down, he knew he was fucked.

‘Nothing?’

‘Wilford c-c’mon!’

‘C’mon what?’

Wilford was curling and uncurling his fingers incessantly, making Guard bite his lip and start smiling as he shook his head up at him – with every passing second, his will was slowly unravelling.

‘Not this okay anything but this! God–fucking waterboard me, throw me in a vortex, beat me up, anything you want just not thihis!’

A little giggle escaped him as Wilford’s blunt nails trailed over his stomach and sides, making him tremble as his face got gradually redder and redder. Wilford’s grin was impossibly huge with delight and awe – discovering someone’s ticklishness for the first time was honestly one of his favourite things in the entire world.

‘Aww, but I could never hurt you Guard! That’s why this is so perfect! I can torture you all I want and there won’t be a mark on you… unless I get hungry of course.’

Wilford winked down at him playfully, making Guard gape as even more heat rushed to his face. But before he could come up with a reply he burst into laughter, for Wilford had decided he was done with the anticipation. His fingers now scratched and scribbled Guard’s toned stomach with wild abandon, and there was nothing Guard could do.

‘NAHAHAHA FUHUHUCK NONOHOHO WIHIHILFORD C’MAHAHAN!’

Wilford found himself amazed by Guard’s laughter, for it wasn’t at all what he’d been expecting! The way he laughed was so bright, so perfectly musical, and Wilford thought it was one of the most beautiful laughs he’d heard in his entire life!

‘Oh my God your laugh is so pretty!’

‘SHUHUHUHUT UHUHUP!’

‘No really I mean it! It sounds like music!’

Wilford exclaimed in earnest, which had Guard shocked. At first he’d thought Wilford was merely teasing him, but now he saw the sincerity on his face and just felt flustered beyond measure! He was so unused to compliments that he had no idea how to react, and so ended up turning his face away and squeezing his eyes shut adorably.

‘YOHOHOU SHUHUT YOHOUR MOHOUTH!’

Wilford giggled, loving how flustered he was.

‘Why don’t you make me?’

Guard spluttered and yelped as Wilford now starting kneading his toned stomach, making him arch his back and flop about desperately as he shook his head.

‘IHIHIHI CAHAHAN’T!’

‘Oh dear, that must be pretty sucky for you.’

Guard let out a desperate whine as the kneading sent ticklish waves all the way through him, his laughter making his entire body shake underneath Wilford. After a few moments though Wilford gave his stomach mercy, leaving Guard panting as he got his breath back. But then Guard gulped when Wilford hummed musingly at him.

‘Now I wonder where else you’re ticklish, howsabout down here?’

Wilford give his hipbones some soft, experimental pinches, making Guard elicit a few rather noticeable squeaks. Wilford, of course, loved this.

‘Is that a yes? That sounded like a yes to me!’

Wilford softly spidered Guard’s hips, making him splutter and squeak even more as he jerked from side to side – unfortunately for him though, nothing he did could dislodge Wilford’s tickling fingers. The hip tickling also meant Guard was now caught up by the most adorable, high-pitched fits of giggles Wilford had ever heard!

‘Gohoho ahahawahahay!’

‘Aww, now why would I do that when I’m enjoying your company so much?’

Wilford teased, chuckling when Guard’s face scrunched up out of embarrassment.

‘Shuhuhut uhuhup smahahartass!’

‘Or what gigglehips?’

Wilford’s retort made Guard let out an indignant voice crack, the nickname catching him completely off guard – it also had the side effect of sending his blush up to his ears. Wilford laughed fondly, scratching away at Guard’s sensitive hips happily as he crooned.

‘Ooh, does someone like their new nickname?’

‘Wha–nohoho! Dohon’t cahahall mehehe thahat!’

‘Oh I’m so telling everyone to call you gigglehips now!’

‘Dohohon’t yohohou fuhucking dahahare!’

Wilford kept laughing along with Guard. He was so damn happy that he was able to see this brighter side of him, and ironically the tickling seemed to have the wondrous effect of making Guard less tense than he was before! Wilford decided he wanted to up the ante though, and spontaneously pinched the giggly man’s thighs as he raised an eyebrow.

‘Was that a threat?’

Wilford’s eyes widened with surprised glee when Guard shrieked at the pinches, and at how his eyes went oh so wide as he looked up at Wilford and babbled.

‘NOHO–nonono Ihi wohould never threaten you n-nehever! I was juhust s-sayihing random shihit I swear!’

Guard gulped as he watched Wilford, hoping beyond hope that maybe he’d have mercy, that maybe he wouldn’t tickle the most insanely ticklish spot he had on his body. The moustached man regarded him for a few moments… before his lips slowly spread in an evil smile which, I daresay, would have rivalled that of Darkiplier himself.

‘Are you ticklish right here?’

‘Wilford!’

‘It seems like you might be ticklish right here.’

‘Wilford please!’

Wilford paused for a moment, for dramatic effect, before smirking like the Devil.

‘I think I’m gonna tickle right here.’

As soon as Wilford’s tickly, pinching fingers touched down on Guard’s thighs, he was done for. The poor man was a mess of mirthful shrieks and screams as Wilford tickled the absolute hell out of him. This was the most that Guard had been tickled in his entire life and honestly? He thought he was going insane.

‘OHOHOHO MY GAHAHAHAAAA!’

Guard’s hysteria only made Wilford more eager to tickle him, and he cooed down at him eagerly.

‘Daawww poor thing, do my pinchies really tickle that bad?’

Guard nodded frantically, tears quick to gather in his eyes. The sensations were like nothing he’d ever felt before. Each pinch to the flesh of his thighs was like a fiery shock that made his cheeks ache with grinning, and his stomach shake with the heft of his laughter.

‘YEHEHEHEHEEEE!’

Wilford chuckled fondly, because to him there was truly nothing more beautiful than a little madness.

‘Are you sorry for being a sassy little shit?’

Guard nodded again, his desperate babbles immediate.

‘YESYEHEHEHEHES IHIHIHI SAHAHAHARRY!’

Now, Wilford discerned that Guard could likely have handled a little more, but he decided to have mercy. He could tell with ease that it had been a very long time since Guard had gotten tickled, and certainly nothing close to this level of meanness, and the last thing Wilford wanted to do was over-do it. So he happily relented and moved off Guard’s legs, his smile broad and sweetly satisfied.

‘Good, and let that be a lesson to you! No-one sasses ol’ Warfy and gets away with it!’

Guard snorted in-between his gasps for air and residual giggles, blinking his tears away as his body immediately curled up into a protective ball. The two men were quiet for a few minutes, Wilford exercising his rare patience as Guard panted and regained his senses. Soon Guard just had his residual giggles to deal with as he smiled bashfully.

‘Mehessage received… hoholy shihihit…’

Wilford giggled fondly as Guard calmed down fully, and another sect of silence reigned the room. Wilford looked around a little, his thoughts starting to drift once again into that familiar haze of absence; then, Guard nudged him.

‘Hey Wilford?’

Wilford blinked and smiled at him.

‘Uh huh?’

Guard was hesitant then, tentative as he thought about what he wanted to say. Then he took a breath and cleared his throat.

‘Do uh… do you really want my company?’

Wilford smile softened, and he nodded to him as he replied.

‘I do. I know some other people who’d like it too… you wanna meet a few of them?’

Guard nibbled his lip at the question, thinking to himself. However now, a few of his feelings had altered. Instead of an anxious tightness encompassing his chest he felt lighter, more relaxed, at the thought of spending time with people. He knew his anxiety would return in the future, for there was rarely a one-time fix for the recurrent feeling… but here and now he was okay, and he wasn’t going to take it for granted.

‘Yeah, yeah I’d like that.’

Wilford beamed with a gasp and jumped up excitedly, and Guard laughed when the bombastic man grabbed him by the hand and started rattling off about all the people he wanted to introduce him to. Before Guard knew it he’d been yanked out of his room, but he was okay with that. Of course, it is always incredibly important to have time for yourself, and to have a space for your own that’s all for you so you can feel safe with your own company… but never forget, there will always be other people out there who will love your company too.

WOOOO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS FIC LEMME KNOW IF YA DOO! WOOO LUV YOUS!!

#markiplier #markiplier egos #wilford warfstache #wilford #warfstache #sfw #fnaf guard #guard #prompt #platonic #ego fic #ego fanfic #tword fic #tword fanfic #tword #twords #twording #twordish #luv these bois

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hessonite-dragon · 5 months ago

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I am Incredibly Normal about Abe the Detective and Wilford Warfstache: A text post

So, an AO3 fic made me think more about how Abe and Wilford do the things they do

Throughout Wilford 'MOTHERLOVING' Warfstache, both Abe and Wilford display some sort of oddity that doesn't follow the logical paths of either Space or Time (The concepts of which will be capitalized because they are Important)

It's much more obvious for Wilford, but there are several instances of Abe also having Weird moments

For example:

The camera slides across the car's rim in this scene, and Abe suddenly has a vape pen. This is double weird because 1, that wasn't there before, and 2, a vape doesn't fit the Noir style attached to Abe..

I don't believe I need to provide examples of weird moments involving Wilford.

So, in my mind, Wilford and Abe are -in some way- not bound to the rules of Space and Time.

(1/?)

#wilford warfstache #wilfordmotherlovingwarfstache #abe the detective #text

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lyssak09 · 2 years ago

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Masterlist & Things I write for

AN: I automatically write the reader as female so when you re quest please please tell me what pronouns you want the reader to have. Also if requested I will and can write the reader as part of the LGBTQ+ community

Key: Italics means to be posted/its a draft

Fandoms I can write for:

Supernatural

Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Night Court (1986)

Corpse Bride

Beetlejuice (both movies)

Doctor Sleep

Charmed (the original one)

The Labyrinth (David Bowie movie)

Krull (1983)

Secret Obsession (netflix movie)

Day of the Dead: Bloodline

The Walking Dead (seasons 1-7) I get pissed with the show when I get to parts of season 7 so I stop watching and restart from the beginning of the show

Umbrellas Academy

Z Nation

Warehouse 13

Repo! The Genetic Opera

Dead by Daylight

Adventure Time

The Big Bang Theory

Friends

Suicide Squad (both movies)

Futurama

Slashers: Ghostface (preferably Stu), Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Jason, Brahms Hillshire

Star Trek: TNG, Voyager, Lower Decks, TOS, SNW

My Bloody Valentine: Both 1981 and 2009 movies so please be specific with which one you want

Markiplier & Jacksepticeye egos

Masterlist

Supernatural

Yandere Dean hcs

Yandere Shapeshifter hcs

Yandere Sam hcs

Yandere Archangels request

Yandere Castiel hcs

Yandere Lucifer hcs

Yandere Casifer hcs

Yandere Casifer with Trans!reader request

Yandere Archangels soulmates request

Yandere Michael!Dean w/ soulmate fem!Reader ask

Dead by daylight

Platonic Yandere killers reaction to child reader

Yandere Leon with Killer!reader request

Yandere Leon with Killer!reader pt.2 request

Platonic Yandere (HOY) Trapper & Huntress with tween!reader request

Platonic Yandere Huntress & Trapper request

Yandere Nemesis hcs request

Yandere Killers & Survivors request pt.1

Yandere Killers & Survivors request pt.2

Yandere Doctor hcs request

Plantonic yandere (HOY) Trapper & Huntress pt.2

Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Yandere Jake Peralta hcs

Yandere Jake with Lawyer!reader request

Yandere Jake

Yandere Rosa

Yandere Amy

Yandere Charles request

Star Trek

Yandere Q request

Yandere William Riker

Yandere Brad Boimler

Yandere Spock (SNW)

Yandere Data

Yandere Tom Paris

Umbrella Academy

Yandere Five with Soft!reader request

Yandere Five hcs

Yandere Luther hcs

Yandere Diego hcs

The Walking Dead

Yandere Daryl with motherly!reader hcs request

Yandere Daryl motherly!reader hcs pt.2 request

Yandere Daryl

Yandere Daryl VS Rick hcs/sorta request

Yandere Rick VS Governor request

Yandere Rick hcs

Yandere Grown Carl hcs

Yandere Michonne hcs

Yandere Governor request

Tim Burton

Yandere Victor Van Dort hcs (Corpse Bride)

Yandere Emily hcs (Corpse Bride)

Yandere Beetlegleuse hcs (BeetleJuice)

Miscellaneous (Aka writing that doesn’t have their own category yet)

Yandere Brahms Heelshire (The boy)

Yandere Elliot Stabler (L&O SVU)

Yandere Mack Thompson (Z Nation) hcs

Yandere Black Mask/Roman Sionis (DC/BOP)

Yandere Pete Latimer (Warehouse 13) hcs

Yandere Homelander (The Boys) hcs

Yandere Joker (Suicide Squad) hcs (Fight me on this)

Yandere Piper Hallowell (Charmed) hcs

Yandere Leo (Charmed) hcs

Yandere Colwyn (Krull) hcs

Yandere Danny Torrance (Doctor Sleep) hcs I love Ewan McGregor

Yandere Max (Day of the dead: Bloodline) hcs

Yandere Wilford Warfstache hcs

Yandere Antisepticeye hcs

Ocs

Currently redesigning how these guys look like

Tyler from my yandere song fic

Evan ( Yandere Landlord)

Daniel (Yandere Slasher)

Hudson (Yandere Cop/Sheriff)

Luke (Yandere Childhood friend/Bully)

Damien (Yandere Teacher)

Zachary (Yandere zombie apocalypse survivor)

Derek (Yandere Hypnotist/ Therapist)

Ashton (Yandere Neighbor)

Zeke (Yandere robot boss)

William (Yandere Prisoner)

Adrian (Yandere Asylum patient)

Devon (Yandere Priest)

Jason (Yandere Step father)

Max (Yandere step brother)

Anthony (Yandere slasher/homicide survivor)

Ryan (Yandere childhood friend)

Ewan (Yandere military man)

Unnamed (Yandere boss)

Unnamed (Yandere AI robot house)

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