#darkypoo
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Open RP
The Herald of Love
In the dead of night, Cupid watched as the colors of Sandy’s sand fluttered and sailed across the sky. Dreams were happening, and Sandy was an expert. Cupid was sitting on a roof of one of the buildings, and right next to him came a stream of dream sand. Cupid watched, his green eyes glowing and adding green to the already bright glow. It was beautiful to watch, and Cupid could see a large cloud of sand far off into the distance. That is where Sandy worked, and that is where he made his dreams, and yet again, Cupid wondered if Sandy made dreams for one’s like him.
Cupid stayed deep in thought. His scorpion tail gently swaying as it laid on the roof, his wings adjusting themselves for a few minutes then he leaned back and laid across the roof and just watched the sky above him. He was a bit jealous of Sandy, the dream sand was and seemed like a great power, where as he himself had a black bow with arrows he formed out of thin air, or with children’s love. These arrows could be used either to harm or even not harm others. He never harmed children, even when an arrow would stick into them, whenever he shot one, these arrows never harmed the kids, which Cupid himself found surprising, he used them to give the kids love to the thing or person they loved.
Cupid’s bow was laying right beside him, the steak black etched with symbols and small hearts flashed with the colors of the dream sand flowing around him. Cupid’s eyes closed softly and rested for a bit. Again he wondered if Sandy would give him a dream, he wondered how it would feel to dream. He wasn’t a Guardian, but he did care about the children and protected their love like the other Guardians did. Love was his center, which was kind of self explanatory, he made sure love was shown constantly. He worked tirelessly every day, and on his holiday Valentines Day, where he was depicted as a baby with a cloth over his naughty bits, which also made him laugh. If they actually knew what he looked like, wouldn’t it have been better for the kids who frowned upon the baby picture? Wouldn’t they have found him cool? Maybe, Cupid himself thought he looked cool, and in all reality he didn’t much like the baby look they used to depict him, but it was funny whenever that time came around and he saw tv’s flashing with said baby.
He wonder also if he’d ever meet any of the Guardians. He wondered if he’d get to work with them, and then his mind went to Manny. The Man in the Moon, Manny, the one who created him, and where Cupid believed all “Guardians” came from. The first day, Manny gave him his name Cupid and his bow, then after went silent. It had been so many years since him and Manny actually spoke, but Cupid knew that all of his thoughts must have been heard by Manny, they were just never answered and now he opened his eyes to gaze at the Moon. It was full and bright and hung in the sky as a mighty glowing ball, but Cupid’s eyes watched, thinking over and over at why he was here, why Manny created him. It couldn’t have been because of love, could it?
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Wild Roses - Chapter 1
(This is the first chapter of a DarkiplierxReader fic I just started. I’m only posting the first chapter on here so people can check it out and see if they might wanna read more. All upcoming chapters will be posted on my Quotev and AO3 accounts. This is just a little sample of what’s to come 😉)
“Anti, why the fuck are you here?’
“Wilford invited me. Do you have a problem with that, Darkypoo?”
“Uh, yes. Obviously I have a problem with you being here. No one requested your presence at this meeting.”
“Well, Wilford did.”
“Wilford doesn’t count. He’d invite a hobo off the street if he was given the chance.”
“That’s… Well, that does kind of sound like something he’d do, actually. But I have a good reason for being here.”
“Which is what, exactly?”
“So, it involves a knife—a few knives, actually…”
“Guys, please,” Mark interrupts. “You can bicker on your own time. Right now we have business to discuss.”
Yes,” Dark agrees, straightening his tie. “We have to deal with Y/N.”
“I thought they were stuck in a mirror or something,” Anti says, confused. “What do they have to do with anything?”
“They are stuck in a mirror, dumbass,” Dark says, his annoyance at the other demon extremely clear. “We have to get them out.”
“Why? I thought you were the one who originally trapped them there,” Anti says pointedly.
“Things have… changed since then,” Dark says, albeit a bit reluctantly.
“Ever since we stopped Actor…” Mark begins to say, though he trails off before he finishes that sentence.
“I just don’t understand why you two are suddenly working together,” Anti says, sounding skeptical. “Aren’t you guys supposed to, like, hate each other or something?”
“Any hatred I had was for Actor,” Dark says sharply. “Mark is… tolerable. I’ve found some of his past comments about me to be rather… hurtful, but I acknowledge that he didn’t know the real me at the time. So… no, I do not harbor any hate for this version of Mark.”
“Gee, thanks,” Mark replies with an eye-roll. “I’m glad you can tolerate my presence. It’s not like I’m the one who brought you into existence or anything.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you two talking about?” Anti asks. “There are other versions of Mark? I thought that Actor was the only Mark.”
Dark shakes his head, “Nope. There are… Well, there are infinite versions of Mark now, actually. The whole multiverse thing really… complicated everything.”
“Multiverse?” Anti repeats with wide eyes. “The fuck are you talking about?”
“All that matters right now is this reality,” Mark interjects before the conversation can derail any further. “And in this reality, Y/N is trapped in a mirror and we have to get them out.”
“But you’re not from this reality?” Anti asks. “How is that possible?”
“Were you even listening to me?” Dark responds with a scowl. “I literally just told you that the multiverse messed everything up.”
“So this version of Mark is just… stuck in this reality now?” Anti guesses aloud.
Mark nods solemnly. “Afraid so.”
“But what about the reality he’s from?”
“I choose to… not dwell on that, whenever possible,” Mark answers with a strained smile.
Dark rolls his eyes at the YouTuber. “His life is basically the same here. The only real difference is that, unlike his predecessor, he’s merely human.”
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with being human,” Mark says, offended.
“Whatever. We’re literally only working together to get Y/N back. After that, I consider our current… arrangement terminated,” Dark explains.
“Oh, I wouldn’t count on that,” Wilford says, speaking for the first time since the meeting started. “Bringing Y/N back into the mix will only serve to complicate this timeline further.”
Dark narrows his eyes at the pink-mustached man. “How can you know that?”
Wilford shrugs, then gives a cryptic smile. “I know a lot of things I probably shouldn’t.”
“Look, it doesn’t matter what… consequences this might have—we have to get Y/N out of that mirror. It’s… it’s just cruel to keep them trapped in there,” Mark says, expression pinched in concern.
“I agree,” Dark says. “Now is the time for us to make amends.”
Anti raises his eyebrows at that comment. “Seriously? From what you’ve told me in the past, what makes you so certain they’ll be willing to forgive you for what you did to them?”
“I… I am not certain,” the demon admits. “But I have to try.”
“And you’re okay with this?” Anti asks Mark. “You just… trust Dark to get Y/N out of the mirror safely?”
“What other options do I have?” Mark says with a helpless shrug.
“Why do you even care?” Dark asks Anti. “I thought you didn’t care about Y/N’s well-being.”
Anti scoffs, “Oh, trust me, I don’t. But I know a trainwreck when I see one—and this is about to be a huge one. I might be a lot of things, Darkypoo, but I know better than to leave loose ends. And Y/N is the biggest loose end you’ve got. The minute—no, the second—they’re out of that mirror, they will be gunning for you. And Mark, probably, since they don’t know about the multiverse, or whatever. If I were you, I would’ve killed them to begin with to avoid this entire mess.”
“I mean, they are dead, technically,” Wilford begins to say.
“Y/N will be understanding,” Dark quickly interrupts before Wilford can start one of his notorious rants. “Once we explain everything to them, I’m sure they’ll be able to see things from our perspective.”
“Seems like a longshot to me,” Anti says. “But, hey, it’ll be your funeral. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an Irishman to torment…”
“Why did you let him in here?” Dark asks Wilford as soon as Anti has left the room.
“He seemed like a fun guy,” Wilford responds defensively.
“He stabs people—for fun!” Mark exclaims, sounding a bit distressed.
“So? I do, too,” Wilford says with a little shrug.
***
You wake up in bed with a gasp. Your eyes blink open to darkness, and as your vision slowly adjusts you realize that you’re in an unfamiliar room. Sleep weighs down heavily upon you, and as a result you can’t remember how you got here.
In fact, the last thing you do remember is seeing a face on the other side of the mirror. Someone touched the glass and you mimicked the gesture, vainly hoping you’d be able to feel the warm skin of another human being.
Of course, though, that didn’t happen.
Instead, you held your hand up against your side of the glass and watched the face on the other side contort, as if in pain. There was a bright flash of light after that. And then… nothing.
But now you’re here somehow. Wherever ‘here’ is.
And that face you saw in the mirror, from the other side of it… it looked so familiar. It looked like…
But there’s no way that could be possible, right? Right?
Damien is gone. You know that, intuitively. He was replaced long ago with something far more sinister.
Figuring that you’ve been ‘asleep’ for way too long already, you decide to get out of bed and figure out what the hell is going on. The bedroom is pitch-dark, so you have to navigate it carefully. You manage to find a lamp on a small side table and turn it on.
The room is suddenly cast with a soft orange-ish glow, allowing you to make out various pieces of furniture. There’s the table by the bed, of course. Then there’s a dresser across from the bed, there’s a door that presumably leads to a closet, and another door that hopefully leads out of the room.
The bedroom is fairly plain, decoration-wise. All neutral tones, from what you can tell. There are zero distinguishing features to give you any clue about where you might be.
You’re halfway to the door when you glance down at yourself and notice what you’re wearing. Nothing more than an oversized black t-shirt and underwear. And both of your arms have bandages on them for some reason.
Before exiting the room, you rummage around in the dresser and find a pair of sweatpants that sort-of fit. They’re a bit big, but they shouldn’t fall down.
With that sorted, you slowly open the door and peer out into an adjoining hallway. It’s completely dark and silent.
Well, that’s certainly not creepy, right?
You gingerly walk down the hallway, careful to not catch any creaks in the wooden floorboards beneath your bare feet. Eventually, you reach what looks like a living room area. And next to that is a kitchen.
Your stomach immediately growls, as if on cue.
You stay still for a moment and listen for any movement in the house. When you don’t hear any, you approach the fridge. You open it up as quietly as possible and grab several items of food. And a couple bottles of water for good measure.
Since you haven’t eaten in… Well, decades, probably, you wolf down the food and water at lightning speed. Of course, you feel immediately sick afterwards, but you tell yourself that a stomach ache is worth it.
Feeling a bit more awake and alert now, you examine the house more closely.
It looks modern. Like, too modern. Like, how many decades were you trapped in that mirror for?
You don’t see any landline phones on the walls or boxy TV sets in the living room area. Instead, there’s a flat black screen mounted to a wall across from a couch. Is that a TV?
Before the mirror incident, it had been… What year had it been? Sometime in the ‘50s, you think.
Well, you don’t know much, but you’re certain that you’re not in the 1950s anymore.
You spin on your heel to head back to your bedroom to look for more possible clues when you see something that nearly gives you a heart attack.
A man stands in the hallway. Er, he’s walking toward you, actually. It’s too dark to make out his features, but you instantly feel a sense of dread.
The instinct to turn tail and run away, however, is halted by just a few melodic words. They’re spoken quietly, calmly, but somehow easily reach all the way down the hall and wrap around you like a warm blanket.
“Y/N, my dear, you’re awake. I was so hoping I’d be the first to talk to you.”
Link to chapter 2:
#markiplier#youtube#youtubers#darkiplier#fanfiction#actor mark#wilford warfstache#mark edward fischbach#fanfic#darkiplier x y/n#darkiplier x reader#antisepticeye
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(A request from an Anon. They wanted to see what he looked like crouching or ready to pounce...so this it that request, it's just an unfinished sketch though...o3o d)
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Poor Darkypoo is being so neglected over there on his blog... I honestly thought the Dark blog would be more popular than it is. Y’all love Wilford, huh?
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Sooooooooooooooooooo, could you do the following prompt but as Dark and Wilford? "Is that a dead body?" "...No?" "It is, I can see it." "I'll have it cleaned up before dinner!"
Dark’s Aura roiled outwards, lashing out at random times, and the ringing around the demon rose and lowered in pitch spotaneously “Wilford...is that a dead body?”
The insane pink mustached man thumbed his suspenders and glanced askance, the very picture of guilt. Sweat was beading on his brow, and his own Aura flickered nervously around him. “N-no....?”
The demon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting off the headache that was blooming there. “Wil...it is, I can see it.”
Wilford coughed, Aura patting Dark on the head. “Don’t worry, Darkypoo, I’ll have it cleaned up before dinner!”
My Aura swatted his away as I glared at him, albiet a little softly. “What have I told you about using that nickname?”
“Uhhhh, to do it everytimeIseeyou, okaybyeDarkypoo!” Wilford quickly disappeared in a puff of pale pink and yellow smoke, the scent of cotton candy lingering after his hasty departure.
The demon sighed and blipped upstairs. “Wil...what am I going to do with you?”
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Something I don’t think I’ll ever finish because if I add anymore I’ll ruin it! Drensi being a pole dancer is funny to me, and it’s kind of an inside joke with myself that his nickname refers to this. Pfft! XD
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What’s your favorite thing about Dark and/or Wilford?
AAAHHH I’ma do both cuz I love them!
Dark: My Darkypoo, favorite thing about him? That he’s more than he seems. He’s powerful and tbh HOT but he’s complicated and complex and so versatile. His aesthetic is great and as a character there are lots of different things you could do with him....did I mention he’s crazy hot??
Wilford: Ah my sweet candy man lol My favorite thing about Wilford is his crazyness. In a sad way i know but he’s perky and makes me giggle and he’s both cute as heck and hot as heck. It’s the only thing in the world that I can stand liking Pink with and I just love him :)
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Warfy.. noooo! You ain't dead. Our love will keep you and darkypoo alive. I promise. *paps on cheek* we love you warfy. Mark the sadistic biscuit will never take you from us. Not without a fight. Not without pain.
((Trigger Warning - Mentions of depression/Suicide))
Wilford let out a sigh as they papped his cheek, a small half smile ghosting his lips. “Don’t worry about me. Go save Dark. I’m not strong enough to anymore. Don’t waste you tears and care and support, all that, on me. Go save Dark for me, all of you. P l e a s e..”
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Wil wakes up with a knife against his throat.
“Well good afternoon to you too, Darkypoo’.”
“Cut the shit Warfstache. Tell me where it is.”
Wil giggles. “I’m the only Warfstache and I’m right here, silly.”
Dark groans and presses the knife harder against his neck.
“Where’s the fucking cupcake?”
Wil reaches up and licks Dark’s face, and blood begins to trickle from his neck.
“That’s as much as I can give back I’m afraid. The rest done travelled through my intestinals. Man, I love sugar coma naps.”
#markiplier#darkiplier#wilford warfstache#egos#the kupcakeinator#headcanon#an hour later I realised i forgot to write an important sentence
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Will wakes up with a knife against his throat.
“Well good afternoon to you too, Darkypoo’.”
“Cut the shit, Warfstache. Tell me where it is.”
Will giggles.
“I’m the only Warfstache and I’m right here, darlin’.”
Dark groans and presses the knife harder against the lunatic’s neck.
“Where’s my fucking cupcake?”
Will reaches up and licks Dark’s face, and blood begins to trickle from his neck.
“That’s as much as I can give back I’m afraid. The rest done travelled through my intestinals. I dare say, I do love a good sugar coma.”
#markiplier#markiplier egos#darkiplier#wilford warfstache#cupcake#kupcakerinator#source nigella Lawson
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Hi Dark and Anti! How are you doing?? I've been wondering, do you have powers? If you do what type?? I have a few powers which include fight and killing anything mortal that I touch... I'm rambling so I'll just stop talking now and leave you alone now
Hey there, if you want to ask dark something, please use my other blog: @ask-darkypoo Thank you ♥️
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What color is your Aura?
Brown
wicker baskets, bookstores, wood rings, chocolate bars, suitcases, mochas, teddy bears. your essence is brown: you are a strong-hearted worker afraid to burden others. you are persistent, and thankless; you will be the wielder that your loved ones need and will fight for what they deserve. your tenderness only seeks to belong. you are the martyr. you are the unyielding. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of umber, beige, chiffon, and terracotta, who share your devotion to others. you are also drawn to the bright pink and yellow, who will help you grow and show you how to speak up for your needs. however, you may struggle to get along with the aggressive personalities of purple and red who look after themselves first.
Tagged by: @muppeteyes1001
Tagging: Anyone who wants to do this! XD
(I don’t know how to put link in sentence form so please go to @muppeteyes1001 ‘s post for working link!)
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"Here we go get him darkypoo ... babe get some popcorn will you" he said batting his eyelashes crank that's not always how it works ya know!~crank
*I grin and snap my fingers and VOIKA POPCORN HAS APPEARED* I gotchu covered babe 😆😆💜💜
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(Leave a like if you want a 3rd person roleplay starter!)
(Leave a like if you want me to roleplay with you, with every person that likes, I will send you information about Darkside, and if you would please send me information about your OC so we know about each other's OCs before we begin to RP! X3 Thank you all!)
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Hey Wilford. What does Dark like? I want to meet him and make a good first impression. Because he kinds of scares me.
Wil strokes his moustache.
Darkypoo doesn't like much... He likes fine things like red wine and roses... silk sheets, hot baths, expensive suits...
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heyyy moon (and darkypoo) I'm not sick anymore!!! :DD how've your lives been?
"Lovely! I'm glad you're better!!" Kay hugged you and kissed your cheek."Welcome back, darling~" Dark spoke from behind the mun. He offered a smile.
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