#wilfordwarfstachebutwithtits

[nifftysbadboys]

Thought I’d post this here too! I made a silly lil animatic of a tiktok audio for my partner @wilfordwarfstachebutwithtits of Vox and one of the fanchildren they designed for StaticMoth 💖

He’s in the middle of a particular stressful meeting, Vida just wanted to say hi to her dad :3

[laneofpennies]

did a screenshot redraw of my oc harrison dealing with A World Without His Boyfriend (william’s actually alive, just stuck in a storage closet lmao)

the oc on the right is my gf’s, jean >:3 @wilfordwarfstachebutwithtits

[lostcybertronian]

27 with Unus and Annus? Or Dark talking to them?

The first and last time Dark ever propositioned them.

Tags: @tiny-yan-an @darkstache-iplier @redraspberrycats @cookieface678 @bing-iplier @storm337 @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @pixelenchanter @itsjustkyss @darkiplurrr @demon-dark-666 @moonysmayhem @xpouii @projectwkm @sororia04s @purple-anxiety-blog @rabbitsartcorner @tried-my-best @endangered-cryptid

Prompt 27: “Is the weight of it all finally too heavy?”

    He faced them. And they faced him, hands folded in front of their pristine suits, faces shadowed with the kind of contempt Dark would save for a worm. Above them, the clock ticked; 265:15:32, and counting.

    “Don’t you want more than a year?” He demanded, feeling his shell crack in places, hearing his voice multiply. Too angry to care, he continued, “I can give you that! I can give you life!”

    “How long have you lived, Darkiplier?” Unus asked, calm, despite the blaze in his pure white eyes. “Doesn’t the weight of it all become too heavy after so many decades?”

    Annus leaned forward. “And how many of those years were wasted?”

    Dark opened his mouth to bite out a retort, but Unus cut him off with a languid wave of his hand. “Hate, rage, revenge. None of that means anything to us.”

    “We understand that no moment can be squandered.” Annus added, pitch black eyes narrowing.

    The ticking grew louder, grating on Dark’s already frayed nerves. He clenched his teeth, feeling his shell splinter into red-blue-black copies of himself. “You can’t want to die!” He cried, but his voice fell on deaf ears, reverberating throughout this void they seemed to call home.

    “It is our design. It is our purpose.” He couldn’t tell who was speaking now; his eyes darted back and forth between them, but neither of their mouths were moving. “We cannot want for something we have never even imagined.”

As they spoke their surroundings began to ripple and swirl, streaks of white permeating the black. An invisible force began to pull Dark backwards, so strong any struggle of his had no hope of overcoming it. The figures of Unus and Annus began to shrink.

“Let me help you!” A last, desperate bid.

    But Unus only shook his head. “Don’t come here again,” he said.

    And then they were gone.

[midknight-hour]

have a happy boi i sketched for @wilfordwarfstachebutwithtits as a thank you for getting me into toyhouse and being rad 😌

let’s say it’s halloween and he’s having fun scaring random kids >:3

[mail-me-a-snail]

3rd batch of hotcakes! @wilfordwarfstachebutwithtits ‘s boys Jason and Dalton @cuddleflsh ‘s orange boy Seb  @stormlord67 ‘s character @speed-boop ‘s boy-o Ajax @starl1ght-child ‘s Aerienne-2 and Starlight

thank you all for commissioning! 

[emiiinazer]

Yes hun, I am a magician~

Here he finally is! My version of Marvin the Magnificent!

Click for better quality ^~^

Taglist:

@boopymooplier @wilfordwarfstachebutwithtits @lythariwolf

[faeriescorpio]

when u get this u have to answer with 5 things u like about yourself, publicly. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)

Alrighty yes okay um

1. I love the fact that I can play like four instruments (trombone, bass clarinet, oboe, piano, and I dabble in flute and harmonica) and that I taught myself how to play them all, which kind of is that childish thing of “I did it without any help” but hey

2. I usually follow through with things? I love my, uh, determined-ness I guess. If I start a project I will typically finish it

3. I am so thankful for my creativity. I love doodling, and always having something to doodle. I always have the loveliest ideas, and the weirdest dreams.

4. I don’t hate how I look? Like I know that I’m pretty and people think having natural blond hair is pretty and I like the very few freckles I have.

5. I love my obsessions I guess because who would I be without them?

6. I feel like one of these didn’t count probably so: I love that I try to be a good person. Catch me at school helping people pick up stuff they dropped. Do you know how many strangers have told me they love me after I helped them? It makes me feel good and I make them feel better too.

Oh boy, tagging people. obviously all my friends (I wish I could @ you back :3) as well as people who deserve goodness in their lives

@kraefandoms @the-bard-followed-the-witcher @starvingkinnie @slormyy @ericderekson @lydster-the-explorer @thirteentinydoctors @isaacwilldestroyyou @awholehoststan @wilfordwarfstachebutwithtits

[graves-yard]

Ref commission done for the lovely @wilfordwarfstachebutwithtits!! Thank you for commissioning!!

[nifftysbadboys]

this one goes out to my girlfriend 🗣️ @wilfordwarfstachebutwithtits

[lostcybertronian]

34 DA to Dark

Tags: @tiny-yan-an @darkstache-iplier @redraspberrycats @cookieface678 @bing-iplier @storm337 @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @pixelenchanter @itsjustkyss @darkiplurrr @demon-dark-666 @moonysmayhem @xpouii @projectwkm @sororia04s @purple-anxiety-blog @rabbitsartcorner @tried-my-best @endangered-cryptid

Prompt 34: “Will you miss me at all?”

    “This will be the last time I come here.”

    Spoken to no one in particular, over the non-sound of the winter’s first storm; thick clumps of snowflakes batted against the cracked and dusty windows, useless bits of ice that only further irritated him. He hated snow as only a creature born of ice and chill would.

    “This will be the last time I come here,” Dark repeated, to no one important. Yet his words hung heavy in the air, settling upon the forsaken place-- its dust-covered statuettes, its ripped and faded paintings-- like a shroud. 

    And then, nobody important appeared; a mere faint handprint against the inside surface of the shattered mirror hanging from the far wall. 

    Glass crunched under Dark’s snow-speckled shoes as he approached, hands tucked neatly behind his back, expression the definition of indifference. 

    Please- the imprint of a face, through the dust; pale skin and gaunt eyes, haunted face and tear-tracks. Don’t leave me again. You promised-

    “Nothing. I promised you nothing. Damien might’ve promised you something-” Dark spun on one heel, already walking away- “but I am not him.”

    They pounded their fists into the mirror, hollow thuds that rang around off the rotting walls. Won’t you miss me? I thought-

    “And I think,” Dark spat, spinning back around, striding toward the mirror, leaning close to that faint silhouette of a face and baring teeth in an animalistic grimace. When he spoke again it was with three voices, all emerging from the same, gray mouth. “That what’s lost needs to stay lost.”

    He turned without allowing them the chance to reply, waving a languid hand through the frosted air as he made for the still-open door and the white cascade awaiting him beyond it. “Mark has no further use for this place, and neither do I.

    “Enjoy eternity.” He did not offer a backward glance. Not even a pause. Merely disappeared into the snowstorm and left that lonely, abandoned soul behind.

[lostcybertronian]

Saw you were looking for headcanons. Mine is for Annus. My headcanon is that at the time of her death, Celine was pregnant, with a child she briefly saw in the entity's realm through the mirror, before she left with Damien into the DA's body. She named the baby Mori because she knew he was dead and there was no saving him. Years later Mark brings him out of that world and gives him the spotlight as Annus, mostly to cause Celine as much pain as possible, because he is a rat bastard. ♡

This is so in depth @bing-iplier take a look at this

[lostcybertronian]

"I have a headache" with Actor/Celine? Maybe him trying to give her affection and her being distant, leading him to start believing shes cheating. Maybe him following her to find her with William and that's how he catches her?

DISCLAIMER: this fic is not intended to villify Celine. This is just an interesting scenario to write out, and happened very early before she ran off with William, and before Mark knew she was cheating on him.

Tags: @authorsathenaeum @tiny-yan-an @darkstache-iplier @redraspberrycats @cookieface678 @bing-iplier @storm337 @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @pixelenchanter @itsjustkyss @darkiplurrr @demon-dark-666 @moonysmayhem @xpouii @projectwkm @sororia04s @purple-anxiety-blog @rabbitsartcorner

Prompt: “I have a headache.”

    He was there when she got back, far too late and slightly tipsy-- William always had a bottle of her favorite wine on hand, god bless him-- an eager smile on his face, his dark eyes shining in the crackling firelight.

    “I came home early,” he said, pushing a bouquet of roses into her hands and wrapping her in a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the side of her cheek, “from the shoot. I wanted to surprise you. And,” he added, pulling away and gesturing to the side-table, upon which stood a bottle of wine, “I got you wine. Your favorite.”

    There was so much love to his tone that Celine nearly flinched away, guilt stabbing like a knife into her chest. Yet she managed to keep her calm as he kissed her, praying he didn’t taste the alcohol on her lips. 

    “I was thinking we could-” Mark started, but Celine only shook her head. “I have a headache, Mark,” she said, feeling that same stab-and-twist of guilt. “And I’m tired. Could we have a romantic date tomorrow, perhaps?”

    If Mark was disappointed, it was a quick flicker in his eyes, an ever-so-slight downturn of his mouth. He was an actor, after all. “Of course,” he replied, and kissed her again before hesitantly releasing her from his grip and sending her off, out of the warm sphere cast by the fire.

    Celine felt his eyes on her back all the way up the stairs.

[lostcybertronian]

52. "Are you going to talk to me?" With Dilliam? Perhaps during wkm when William won't talk about marks death and avoids conversation, but Damien sweet talks him into talking.

Tags: @authorsathenaeum @tiny-yan-an @darkstache-iplier @redraspberrycats @cookieface678 @bing-iplier @storm337 @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @pixelenchanter @itsjustkyss @darkiplurrr @demon-dark-666 @moonysmayhem @xpouii @projectwkm @sororia04s

Prompt 52: “Are you going to talk to me?”

    The grandfather clock in the hallway had just chimed midnight when the door opened and Damien blew in, raking one hand through hair already mussed by wind and time as he struggled to shove a bundle of papers back into his satchel. 

    “Oh! Dames!” William abandoned his wine at the table and got up, hurrying to help him. “You’re- you’re home.”

    “Not for long,” Damien breathed, relinquishing his papers and satchel to William and his overcoat to Benjamin before reaching to William once more for his things. “I forgot some important paperwork in the study. I must retrieve it before returning to City Hall.” 

He started down the hallway, scuffed shoes clicking over worn, wooden boards, leaving the Colonel with nothing to do but to follow. “But Dames,” he protested at Damien’s back, at his slumped shoulders and bedraggled suit, then at his exhausted, purple-ringed eyes when the Mayor twisted to glance at him. “You’ve been gone for… days, now. You need to rest.”

Damien waved him off, but didn’t reply. Merely continued on, his satchel clutched to his chest like its contents were the most important thing in the world. 

“Are you going to talk to me?” William demanded, grabbing at his arm and forcing him to stop. “You can’t just ignore me, Dames.”

Damien jerked his arm from William’s grasp, a look of hard fury crossing his face for a single moment before it disappeared, replaced once more by exhaustion and, now, resignation. “Apologies, Will,” he mumbled. “I am just so tired. But there is still so much to be done.”

“I’m sure it can wait until the morning,” William reached for him again, this time taking one of his hands and prying it gently from his satchel, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. “Please come to bed, Dames. You look an utter mess.”

“I feel an utter mess,” the Mayor admitted, smiling a tired smile when William squeezed his hand and turned, pulling him in the direction of the stairs.

[lostcybertronian]

31 and 41 for some secret Dilliam romance, maybe at one of Mark's parties? If requests are still open :)

I enjoyed this one.

Tags: @authorsathenaeum @tiny-yan-an @darkstache-iplier @redraspberrycats @holyshitsnakesandspace @cookieface678 @bing-iplier @storm337 @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @pixelenchanter @itsjustkyss @darkiplurrr @demonnightmareangel @demon-dark-666 @moonysmayhem @xpouii @damesdoodles @projectwkm @sororia04s

Prompt 31/41: “Can I kiss you?” / “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

    “I am not nearly drunk enough for this,” William declared, downing half his drink in one go. “It’s so boring. I might just drown myself in alcohol.”

    Damien nodded. “I am inclined to agree,” he said, looking around the room, where partygoers clumped into tight, near-impenetrable conversations. Most were drinking, but no one danced to the slow Jazz being played by the record player. It had to be the most dull party Mark had ever thrown. “I’m surprised he invited you,” he added, glancing back at him, “after your falling out. Though, I am glad he did.”

    William chortled. “You seriously don’t recognize one face at this party?”

    Damien raised his wine glass to his lips. “I do not.”

    “Not even that guy?” William pointed at a middle-aged looking gentleman who seemed deeply engaged in a conversation with another middle-aged looking gentleman. The difference, however, was that he had an enormous mustache and a gold-ringed monocle. “He looks like the type you’d fraternize with.”

    Damien laughed and elbowed him in the ribs. “I have never seen that man before in my life.”

    “Ugh. Why would Mark invite all these stuffy busybodies?” William gulped the rest of his drink. “What kind of party is this? Oh-” He straightened, suddenly, a grin appearing on his face before he leaned over to whisper in Damien’s ear- “I have a grand idea.”

    “It’s bound to be better than this party,” Damien replied. “Shall we go?”

    William took his hand, strong, calloused fingers curling warm around his own. “We shall.”

---

    “Not even Mark knows about this.” Together they climbed the stairs toward the second story, William helping Damien up as they went. “It’s amazing.”

    “Do you mind telling me what it is?” Damien asked, as they climbed past the second story, heading toward the Manor’s dusty, creaky attic. His hip was aching, but even so he couldn’t help but focus on the feel of William’s hand in his. 

    “That’d ruin the surprise!” They emerged into the attic, where the Colonel made a beeline for the farthest corner, tugging Damien toward it. As they got closer he could see there was a ladder, old and rusted, but still sturdy, he found, as William guided him up.

    There was a hatch in the ceiling. Not locked. It led to a flat part of the roof.

    “What is this?” Damien rubbed at his arms to ward off the chill as he stared out across the Manor grounds and the surrounding forest, then up at the sky, which glittered with thousands upon thousands of stars. “This is-”

    “Amazing? I knew you’d say that.” William closed the hatch. “I found this spot years ago, trying to hide from Cook after I’d swiped his dessert.” He sat down on the roof, patting the spot next to him so Damien could sit as well. “You can see the whole night sky from here.”

    “It’s beautiful,” the Mayor murmured.

    “Isn’t it?” He glanced over to see William looking at him, a tender expression in his deep, brown eyes.

    Damien’s face flushed hot, and he opened his mouth to say something when William asked, “can I kiss you?”

    “Uh- I-” Damien only managed to nod before William leaned in, pressing soft, gentle lips to his. 

    It lasted but a moment before he drew away, but it felt like a million. Damien was left breathless.

    But still. “Kiss me again,” he whispered.

    William smiled and complied.

[lostcybertronian]

Darkstache in the snow for first kiss. Maybe right when damien/dark leaves the cabin and finds william/wilford again after the events of DAMIEN.

Title: Eyes Dancing

“Damien!” As soon as Dark set foot on the Manor grounds-- because where else would he go?-- William was there, appearing as if from nowhere to throw his arms around him and clutching Dark’s broken body tight, body uncomfortably warm despite the falling snow. “I knew you were alive! My dearest friend! I knew it was all a joke!”

Dark grunted and struggled against his grip, every one of his broken bones screaming in protest of the rough treatment. “Will-”

“Nope!” William let him go, seeming to be everywhere at once and nowhere at all. He held a finger to Dark’s lips. “Not William. Wilford.” He shot Dark a wink. “Th’name’s Wilford Warfstache.”

As he suspected. The William he’d known would never have worn pink. Would never have abandoned his beloved glasses and pith helmet.

“Will- Wilford,” Dark started, gesturing around him to the snow-covered shrubbery, now overgrown, bare branches reaching skyward like outstretched fingers. “I see much has changed.”

“I’d say!” Wilford looked him up and down, all the while playing idly with one end of his mustache. “You look different, Dames.

“But that doesn’t matter one bit!” He exclaimed before Dark could correct him. He popped to Dark’s side and snatched up his hand, raising it to his lips for a mustache’d kiss, his eyes dancing with mischief and-- dare Dark think it-- love. “It’s good to have you back.”

Dark tried to look anywhere but him. “It is good to be back,” he replied, and did his best to sound like he meant it.

[lostcybertronian]

💏 kiss in secrecy for Dilliam! ♡

Last one.

Title: Many Nights

“Will!” Damien yelped as William snatched his hand and pulled him to his chest, one arm snaking around his waist. He glanced around wildly, though there was no one else in the Manor’s parlor. “Someone could see us!” He hissed.

“Do I look like I care?” William bent his head to kiss him. “I’ve been waiting so long for this, Dames.”

He kissed the Mayor again, passionately, clutching him to his chest like he was afraid to let go, and Damien couldn’t help but melt into his arms. He would never admit it, but there’d been many nights where he’d dreamed of this. Many nights where he’d dreamed of being loved.