#projectdarkstache
Text
Has anyone noticed that @projectdarkstache hasn’t run a Darkstache week for a couple years? I miss it. Would anyone participate if I ran it this year?
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hey all!
We've got a couple things we want to mention and see if there's any interest in them!
1) is there any interest in a Darkstache Week discord server? A space for everyone to get together and discuss the prompts and/or share wips?
2) we're tempted to revamp the blog and change the profile picture and header, is there any interest in a little competition? We'd find a week down the track and you guys can submit entries. We'll pick winner for the header and for the icon. Providing credit to your blog/preferred username in our bio, of course.
Let us know!
Thanks!
- Mod Sam
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Darkstache week day 2! Flower/Balloons
32 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Darkstache Week - Day 2
Prompts: Past and Present
Pairing: Darkstache
Summary: Darkstache through the ages.
A/N: I decided art is a good way to go for the second day of Darkstache week. I love this prompt, it’s adorable
@projectdarkstache
165 notes
·
View notes
Text
Darkstache Week: Day 2
Day 2 of Darkstache Week 2019 by @projectdarkstache
The prompt today was “Past and Present”
Dark could feel the cold before she woke, stirring in his chest and behind his eyes. He had locked himself in his room, wondering if he should fight to keep her asleep—and how would he? It hadn’t been long. Was she even rested? He closed his eyes for barely more than an instant, and he woke up in the cabin, with the damnable storm outside. “Celine?”
“Damien. How are you holding up? You look terrible.”
Dark scowled, “I’m not… Celine, I’m fine. You don’t have to wake up.”
Celine looked up, her dark hair hanging in her eyes, “Damien, you can’t carry hatred like I can. You’re too soft. You’ll fall apart. You can’t do this alone.”
“I’m not Damien,” Dark said. “And I’m not alone.”
Celine opened her mouth to reply, but a voice outside caught her attention.
“Dark! I’ve got a surprise for you!” Wilford called, barging into his room. “I made pancakes!”
Celine snarled and wrestled control over Dark’s body, dragging him to his feet. Dark struggled, but there was no stopping her; she was ten time stronger. The auras blazed red, and she reached out to slam Wilford against the wall. He yelped, dropping his plate, “Dark! That was supposed to be your breakfast! What’s gotten into you?” Wilford folded his arms, working up to one of his famous pouts, but Celine had other ideas.
“William!” she roared. “I’ll kill you where you stand!”
“Celine?” Wilford’s eyes glazed over, and his jaw went slack as he froze in place.
“STOP!” Dark shouted, picking up one of the logs from the cabin’s blazing fireplace and tossing it through the small window. Glass shattered and the cold swept in, shocking Celine out of control.
Dark stumbled away from Wilford, holding onto his desk, “Get out, Wilford! Run!”
Wilford hesitated, but another red flash of Dark’s eyes sent him scrambling out of the room; inside of Dark, they were struggling in that stupid cabin. “Celine you don’t know what you’re doing! Wilford didn’t do anything!”
“You can’t keep coddling him, Damien! That’s how it’s always been! You make all of these little allowances for him and he leaves you holding the bag! Every time!”
“It isn’t like that now!” Dark growled. “We work together. He’s helping me with Mark.”
“Please!” Celine laughed. “Helping you with Mark! Nobody’s ever been able to touch Mark aside from me. You expect me to believe that William and you are going to kill him?”
“You don’t know me anymore,” Dark said. “You don’t know him. You’ve been asleep for too long to wake up and take over.”
Celine folded her arms, “So you’re in charge now? The younger sibling surpasses the older?”
“I am not Damien!” Dark roared. “Get that through your head! I’m not Damien and he isn’t William! And you… you’re not the strongest anymore.”
“What’s so different now?”
“I love him,” Dark said. “I love him and if you hurt him… I’ll kill you. I don’t know how, but I swear-”
Celine laughed again, but there was no bitterness in it, “Oh my god. How many of our hearts does he need to tear through?”
“Just mine,” Dark said. “Go back to sleep, Celine. When I need you, I’ll wake you up.”
“You don’t even know what you’re doing,” Celine said. “You’re just… playing Mark’s games.”
“I’ve made my choice,” Dark said. “I make the choice every day. We all chose the game, and I’ll keep all of us safe until he’s dead.”
Celine sat at the broken table and sighed, “And how many are there?”
“Maybe a dozen now,” Dark said. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“How many are you going to let him ruin?”
Dark walked to the door, “Just me. Now go back to sleep.”
Celine looked at him, and suddenly she looked tired. She gave him a small smile, “Goodnight, little brother.”
Dark watched the cabin—and Celine’s wasteland—melt away around him, and he was in full control of himself again. He sat heavily on his bed and adjusted to the shifting of the auras again, balance—more or less—restored.
Wilford peeked his head in the door and spotted Dark sitting on the bed, “Celine?”
Dark jumped and wiped his eyes, “She’s sleeping… again.”
“Right,” Wil said. He stepped into the room and walked over to sit next to Dark. “Good… it was nice to see her.”
Wilford smelled like caramel corn and cotton candy, like younger days spent at the circus, laughter and soft looks and camaraderie. Dark leaned against him and inhaled just a bit of his humanity back, sighing around a mouthful of painful nostalgia. Wil lifted a hand and squeezed Dark’s shoulder, “Well, at least she didn’t try to carve your heart out.”
“I would have let her,” Wil said.
#darkstacheweek2019#projectdarkstache#darkiplier#wilford warfstache#darkstache#ego shipping#fanfiction#celine
92 notes
·
View notes
Text
Darkstache Day One: Winter
Every November, Dark takes a week off. This year, Wilford gets to go with him. Both are reminded that even love can be cold if it’s meaningful.
Word Count: 966
--
When November rolled in, Dark would take a week off and travel out of town. No one knew where he went, until the year he asked Wilford to accompany him. While Wilford had expected a trip to Florida (don’t cold creatures migrate south for the winter?), a cabin near the Rockies was on the bottom of his list of his predictions.
The cabin was part of a campsite, but far enough away to give a sense of isolation from the families and college students in the other cabins. It was postcard perfect, including the snow lazily drifting down. Wilford hesitated by the door, using the moment to take the sight in. It was beautiful, unlike anything he had ever seen before.
“Will?” A voice stirred him from his thoughts, but the touch made Wilford yelp in surprise. Dark, equally startled, immediately pulled his hand back with a look of regret. A quick apology was given, and Wilford was left alone.
Dark was cold to the touch. That wasn't new. However, Dark's hand was ice. As long as the pair had been together (admittedly, not that long), Dark was never that cold. Was it the result of being somewhere colder than usual? Wilford was used to having that cold hand in his, and had become fond of cuddling his favourite ice cube. The cold wasn’t an issue, yet why did the surprise upset Dark? He didn’t have a chance to ask when the entity made a comment about Wilford losing his nose if he closed the door.
As the pair unpacked and a tour was given, Wilford noticed that Dark kept his hands behind his back, much like how they were before they became a couple. Professional, curt, polite… hiding the truth. Wilford tried to reach out, an attempt to show that it was okay, but Dark moved aside. Guilt began prodding at Wilford like someone was trying to put as many cocktail sticks into his arms as physically possible. He wanted to apologise, but he could tell talking about it was the last Dark wanted to do.
Trust him to accidentally spike Dark's paradoxical view on touch - being both touch-starved and aversive of it. He'd need to remedy this before the week was ruined, and fast.
-
After spending the night on the couch - no point making matters worse - Wilford had a brainwave as he looked out the window. It was snowing! They could go outside! If he needed to remind Dark about how the cold touches didn’t bother him, they needed to be outside. It took half the morning to pester Dark into going for a walk, but it was absolutely worth it the moment the front door closed.
First step of the plan - Wilford forgot his coat and winter accessories. As an entity so used to the cold, it wouldn't cross Dark's mind that this was a mistake.
Second step of the plan - make a snowman. This was a two-pronged tactic. Not only would it let the pair reconcile after their blunder the previous day, but it let Wilford dig his bare hands into the cold snow over and over again without drawing suspicion.
Throwing an odd glance Dark's way, Wilford could see the small smile threatening to spread. Those violet eyes had a slight glimmer to them. Even if he wouldn't break into a giddy mood, Wilford was confident the other was having a good time.
“I'm so used to staring out at the snow that I forgot what it was like to be out in it for a while,” mused the entity as Wilford put the final touches to Twigface the Snowman. “There's a sense of tranquility I find here, like I can slip back into a simpler routine.” Even last night, Dark had chopped some firewood. He wouldn't have the ability to chop a tree without being riddled in pain - nor would the campsite owners allow that - so it was a suitable alternative. “Mayhaps it's that familiarity with death that draws me. Everything is dead, barren, bleak…”
“Refreshin’, white…” finished Wilford with a grin. “Y’know, I'm pretty sure it was Host that told me that things aren't dead in winter. They're asleep. Th’ trees can lose their leaves so they can get new ones fer th’ spring. Animals go ta sleep an’ keep cozy. As fer you?” Wilford climbed onto his feet with a chuckle. “Yer not death. Yer Dark. Sure, yer not as bubbly as someone like Mark, but wouldn't life be borin’ if we were all th’ same? Ya keep me from floatin’ away, an’ I make ya smile. Then my hands always…”
“Warm - WILL!” Wilford, taking the distraction as opportunity, put both his ice-cold hands on Dark's cheeks. Then, to the reporter’s surprise, Dark began to laugh, and covered the hands with his own. “You're like ice.”
“As are you. I'll stay out here all day if I get ta show ya how much I've missed holding yer hand since we got here.” That made Dark wise up to Wilford’s plan. While guilt lingered, he was disappointed in himself for not realising it sooner. He had let old worries get the better of him. That wasn’t fair on Wilford.
“Alright... If I bring you back inside so you can have a shower and warm up, I'll let you hold my hand. Deal?”
“An’ cuddle ya in th’ fluffy blanket I brought?”
“And cuddle in the blanket, yes. It wouldn't be a break if I didn't take time to relax, would it? But, dear… Your cheeks are turning purple.”
That was more than enough for Wilford, who was quickly pulling Dark back toward the cabin. All he could feel was cold, but nothing was more comforting than the cold hands in his.
#projectdarkstache#darkstacheweek2019#darkstache#writersofmark#(hello hi I'm Ash and I'm taking the chance to try developing my Dark in particular this week :D )#(the readmore is for neatness; don't worry!)#Cracked Mirror (Dark)#Rose Petals (Wilford)
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
June 19 (Wednesday): Dark’s birthday
I’m really proud of this one.
If you asked Dark, they did not have a birthday. The Doom twins had a birthday, June 19, 1896, and Dark came into existence on October 13, 1922. But they did not consider either of those dates their birthday. That isn’t to say no one else did.
Which is why Wilford was busily hanging decorations in his studio while Dark was working. Birthday or not, Will loved Dark more than anything and he wanted to celebrate his steady. For this reason, Wilford was filling his studio with streamers, balloons and black lights. Dark loves black lights. Chef Iplier was in the kitchen making a chocolate cake, Google was making sure Dark stayed in their office until it was time, Bing was putting together music Dark would like and Bim and the Jims were helping everyone pick out presents for the Darkness. Will, of course, already had his present, ready and waiting. He was so excited to give it to Dark. But first, decorations.
-
A few hours later, everything was ready. Everyone was waiting. Will texted Google that it was time to bring Dark over then signalled he everyone to get down as he turned off the lights. They soon heard the door open and Dark call “Will? Google said you needed to show me something?” Suddenly the blacklights turned on and everyone jumped up.
“Suprise!!”
Dark laughed softly. “Wilford. What is all this?” Wilford just smiled, slinging his arm around Dark’s waist and holding a small box in front of him. His moustache glowed brightly in the lighting.
“Well, I know you don’t consider any day your birthday, but I wanted to celebrate your life and the years we’ve spent together. So, happy life, Dominique. Open this in your office.” Dark took the box and nodded.
-
The party was fun. They danced, they laughed, Will shoved cake into Dark’s face with a giggle. It was a nice time. Dark also got some nice presents. A new watch, some expensive ties, a fun whiskey decanter and some whiskey, a hand-made throw blanket and cologne. Now, Dark was sat at their desk with Will’s gift. What had their boyfriend gotten them, Dark wondered. They opened the box to find a simple wooden box and what appeared to be a hundred puzzle pieces. The wooden box was heavy and mad of some kind of light coloured wood, with the words Do not open until you finish the puzzle. engraved on the top in Will’s handwriting. Dark sighed out a chuckle and got to work on the puzzle. Dark soon discovered the puzzle appeared to be pale pink words on a black background, with red, blue and hot pink hearts scattered around.
After about an hour, Dark had completed the puzzle. In Wilford’s handwriting, it said
I have loved you for almost 50 years, if not longer. I want the spend the rest of my years with you.
Dominique Gabriel Liy, will you marry me?
Dark was so overcome with emotion, they could barely text Wilford “Come”, but Will still showed up in the office seconds later. He hugged Dark tightly and rubbed their back.
“I didn’t expect you to cry, love,” Will said softly. Dark just nodded.
“Yes. Yes. I will marry you, Wilford. I love you so much and I want to be your spouse.” Will smiles and kisses Dark's head. His eyes drifted over to the wooden box.
“Oh! You finished the puzzle, but you didn’t open the box yet.”
“I’ve been a bit overcome to do so, Will.”
“Well, let’s open it together!” And so, with one arm around Dark, Will undid the latch and the two betrothed pushed open the lid. Inside was an expensive looking champagne bottle, two personalized champagne flutes and a diamond ring. Will gingerly picked up the ring. "I love you so much, Dark." He said as he gently took Dark's left hand and slid the ring onto their finger.
"I love you too, Will." And they proved it by kissing Wilford.
Best. Birthday. Ever.
#projectdarkstache#darkstacheweek#darkstacheweek2019#Darkiplier#Wilford Warfstache#Darkstache#Iplier Egos#Bee Writes
50 notes
·
View notes
Photo
I haven't drawn in like 20 years now but I can't not draw for my favorite ship- So here's day 1 for #darkstacheweek : Winter! . @projectdarkstache (it's been 80 long years-)
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
June 17th: Winter/Snowed in
Damien stared down at the flower, disbelief clear across his face. "You don't die very easily, do you?" He didn't quite understand how the flower was still alive despite the cold harsh winter raging around it, but he did think it was pretty. In fact, it reminded him of someone. Someone who was as pink as this flower.
As to who the pink person was, Damien didn't have a clue. In fact, trying to recall anything before today made his head hurt. So he didn't bother. Maybe he could ask Celine? It was possible she would know. But then again, she would probably just dismiss the question and tell him that no such person had ever existed. Along with telling him to get some rest while she went out to hunt.
But that was ok. The flower meant winter would soon be over, and he wouldn't have to chop down trees for firewood. And maybe he'd get to seek out the pink man and give him the pink flower. Until then, Damien hoped the flower survived.
________________________________________________________
So I know it wasn’t night when Damien was cutting down trees, but the snow wasn’t showing up very good so I had to color the background black. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
@projectdarkstache
#projectdarkstache#darkstacheweek#darkstacheweek2019#tw egoshipping#egoshipping#darkstache#dark x wilford#wilford x dark
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
Darkstache Week Day 5
aaahhhh late late late
again mentions the Romantic Quadrangle but ~oh well~ focus is
for @projectdarkstache‘s darkstache week
---
“You went on a date today!” Wil announced his presence in the loudest way possible, barging into Dark’s home office with little care.
“I had lunch with Abe, Wil. It was for work, not pleasure.” Dark spared Wil a glance, looking up from paperwork to briefly take in Wil’s appearance. He could have sworn he’d burned that particular suit jacket of Wil’s.
“It was just you and Abe, therefore it was a date,” Wil teased. He approached Dark’s desk, nudged some paperwork out of the way, and sat down cross legged on the desk in front of Dark. “Just because you were doing work doesn’t mean it wasn’t, my Darkling.”
Dark just sighed, leaning back in his chair. It wouldn’t do any good to argue with Wil on this. He’d just have to listen to Wil make his point and then kick him out so he could finish his paperwork.
“Even better, you and Abe didn’t even get into a spat!” Wil continued nonchalantly. Dark continued to ignore him, stretching his arms up above his head in an attempt to pop his back. “I’m so proud of you, my dear.”
The words had Dark snapping his eyes open, still mostly stretched out, to stare in shock at Wil. “What do you mean you’re proud of me?” he demanded. There was a faint flush on his cheeks, a slight darkening of grey.
“Exactly what I said, my Darkling dear,” Wil stated, leaning forward and placing his hands on Dark’s ribs. He was just holding Dark there, large hands a center of heat on Dark’s sides. “I’m proud of you.” He pulled Dark into a stand, relishing the way Dark’s eyes flashed from confused to loving in the span of a split second. “I know you two don’t always get on well, and, well, you’ve always had the rockiest relationship of the four of us. But I’m proud of you, my dear Darkling. Nothing went weird at all.” He pulled Dark close, prompting Dark to drop his arms over Wil’s shoulders and roll onto the balls of his feet. “I love you so much my dear,” Wil whispered.
“I love you as well, dearheart,” Dark replied just as softly. He tipped his head up slightly to kiss Wil, who leaned down to meet him.
They embraced like that for a while, Wil sitting on Dark’s desk and Dark standing before him. They embraced long enough for someone to get curious and try to find them.
That someone was Yan.
“Dad? Papa?” she queried, peeking into Dark’s office and catching sight of them. “Dr. Iplier finished making dinner, if you wanna come eat,” she said.
The two untangled.
‘We’ll be down in a minute, Yan my darling,” Wil said. He pressed a kiss to Dark’s forehead, smiling brightly. Yan chirped an ascent, disappearing from the door.
“Come on, my love, we should go,” Dark said. “Dr. Iplier is one of our better chefs outside of the Chef himself. Especially with certain children we have, we don’t want to lose out.”
Wil chuckled and let Dark go. “Of course, my dear.” Once Dark backed up Wil uncrossed his legs, sliding from the desk. He stretched and offered an arm to Dark.
Dark took it, and the two walked arm in arm down to the dining room.
#darkiplier#wilford warfstache#darkstache#yandereiplier#projectdarkstache#darkstacheweek#darkstacheweek2019#myde writes
36 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey hey heya! I'm actually the admin of @projectdarkstache !! The thing is me and my other admin sam kept being on and off on running it but we kept losing track of each other XD (also just motivation in general bleh) but omg I'm surprised someone is interested in our week! Honestly? I personally would love to run it again if there's interest? I might even ask my other admin if he wants to come along as well!
I didn’t know you were the admin! I loved doing Darkstache week. You guys did a good job every year.
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
It's that time of the year again! It's Darkstache Week!!
Welcome back ladies, gentleman and all other configurations of beings! We are officially announcing Darkstache Week 2020!
The prompt list will be posted next month (April) with the event taking place in May, the 10th to the 16th!
Please let us know if you want to be tagged on the prompt list once it is posted and we will add you to the taglist!
We are hoping that this event will help to entertain you all while under quarantine! We're excited for another year of absolutely stunning creations!
Remember, attached to the prompts will be the rules, make sure you read them carefully.
If you have any questions don't hesitate to ask either myself or our other dear mod, Cookie!
- Mod Sam
#darkstacheweek2020#projectdarkstache2020#darkstacheweek#projectdarkstache#darkiplier#wilford warfsrache#darkstache#markiplier
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
Darkstache week day 1! Moonlight/Road trip!
It's that time of the year again! I having been drawing much but I really want to get back and doodle and improve. What better which darkstache week :3
#Darkstache#Projectdarkstache#Darkstache week#Darkstache week 2020#My doodles#Darkiplier#Wilford warfstache
12 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Darkstache Week - Day 6
Prompts: Free Day/Pride
Pairing: Darkstache
Summary: Non-Binary Dark and Bisexual Wilford - both of them proud
A/N: I had to do an actual Pride day, so I was very happy there were two prompts based around Pride!
@projectdarkstache
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
Darkstache Week: Day 1
Day one of Darkstache Week 2019 by @projectdarkstache
The theme is “Snowed In”
Warnings: Very mild gore
“Pripyat,” Wil read on the aged sign. “Charming. Although I can’t say much about the welcome wagon.”
“Keep your eyes open,” Dark said. “He’s here, and he knows we’re here.”
Wilford shrugged and caught a snowflake on his tongue, making a face, “Ukrainian snow isn’t my favorite.”
“A little radiation won’t hurt you,” Dark muttered. “Now, come on. Let’s try to find some high ground.”
The crunch of their feet on show echoed through the empty streets, and Dark spotted a set of metal stairs leading to the roof of a squat building that seemed mostly intact. They climbed up trying to be quiet, but the metal creaked and popped beneath them, announcing their presence to anyone nearby. A single gunshot sounded as Dark’s foot hit the roof, and they both went flat, crawling along to the edge. They drew their guns, and Wil spotted their target first.
Mark was in a suit, hair slicked back and backlit by the setting sun; despite his smug expression, he looked a lot like Damien. Wilford had to ignore a sad twinge in his heart, and he hesitated. Dark nudged him out of the way, “If you’re not going to shoot him, Wil then get out of my way!”
Wil snapped out of it, “Da-“
The bullet tore through Dark’s chest and sprayed Wil with blood. He gasped, but Dark just snarled and returned fire. The bullets were enough to keep Mark from shooting again, but not enough to drive him out of his hiding spot. “Fuck!”
Wil touched Dark’s shoulder, “Not that this isn’t great, but remind me again, how fun is Ukrainian prison?”
Dark paused and heard the sirens, “About as fun as prison anywhere else.”
“Still, we should probably break up our little party for now and see Mark in the morning, hm?”
Dark looked down at his ruined shirt and sighed, “Fine. It’s almost too dark to shoot anyway. He likes the attention too much to try and slip past us.”
Wil grabbed Dark’s arm and hauled him to his feet, ducking under Mark’s suppressing fire and stumbling down the icy stairs. Their footsteps were no longer audible under the wail of approaching police, and Wil pulled Dark into a large warehouse, the rusty door shrieking in protest. It swung shut behind them and they were plunged into relative darkness. One corner of the large open space was lit from the collapsed roof overhead, and it let in most of the cold that the walls kept out. Dark walked over to an abandoned pile of flattened cardboard and sat down heavily.
“Better let me get that bullet out,” Wil said.
Dark shrugged off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, “It’ll come out eventually.”
“I suppose, but it might be a little bothersome when we’re chasing Mark tomorrow.”
Dark grunted, but he tossed his shirt aside and reclined on the dirty cardboard, hands behind his head, “Why the Ukraine, do you think?”
Wilford smiled, taking out his knife and kneeling beside Dark, “Dramatics, maybe? Eastern European spies and nuclear disasters. He’s taken us to stranger places, I suppose… never this cold before.”
“I’ve been colder,” Dark said, wincing as Wil went digging for the bullet. “Would you prefer to just stick your whole hand in?”
Wil chuckled, “I’ve dug bullets out of men less tough than you, believe me, Dark. Just think about something nice.”
“Something nice?” Dark muttered. “Mark with a bullet between his eyes would have been nice.”
“There we go,” Wil said. “You’re relaxing already… well… maybe not relaxing per se, but you aren’t flickering so much, which makes this a lot easier.”
Dark gave Wil a look, but said nothing, genuinely relieved when the bullet finally popped out of his body and clattered to the concrete floor. He sighed, “Thank you.”
Wil smiled and kissed Dark’s forehead before handing him his shirt. “Anything for you, old friend. Now… are we actually going to spend the night here?”
“Just go home,” Dark said, sitting up to pull on his shirt and buttoning it. “I’ll finish this.”
“We could both go home,” Wil said. “Come back tomorrow—I’ll even make us a nice breakfast!”
“I’m staying, Wil.”
Wil scooted closer, but Dark jerked way, “We could keep each other warm.”
“I’ll just make you colder,” Dark said.
“I can help you,” Wilford said.
“I don’t need you!” Dark growled, standing up and walking away to the opposite corner.
Wilford wanted to argue, but it wouldn’t do much good. He sighed and laid back on the makeshift bedding, wondering how long it would take Dark to get uncomfortably cold. He drifted off to the once-again deafening silence and the encroaching darkness—broken only by the airy sounds of snowfall.
Wilford woke in the pitch blackness when he felt Dark moving near him; the gray man settled in, pressing his back against Wil’s chest. Wilford wrapped an arm around Dark and pulled him closer, “Cold?”
“Shut up,” Dark murmured, but he placed his hand on Wilford’s arm and let out a deep rumble of contentment.
Maybe Ukrainian snow was Wil’s favorite after all.
#darkstacheweek2019#projectdarkstache#darkiplier#Wilford Warfstache#fanfiction#sorry it's late like everything else in my life!
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Darkstache Day 2: Past and Present
Dark remembers a time when the concept of him falling in love was impossible. But the past is not what the future is, and it requires a little support to help him see that.
TW: Implied conflicted internal homophobia (but it’s a happy ending!)
Word Count: 1,425
--
“Reality”
--
They say the truest form of loneliness is when you are in company. Damien would hasten to agree. Ever since he became Mayor, he felt isolated from everyone, and yet he was surrounded by more people than ever before. It was a bizarre reality he found himself in.
If he were to be honest with himself, it only became more apparent once he began attending formal functions as the City Mayor. The invitations always read “Mayor Brooks plus one”, yet he nearly always went alone. He was a very busy man, Damien would tell himself. He didn’t have time for love. While he would engage in polite conversation and socialise, Damien would find himself watching couples mingle or dancing on the floor. Ultimately, it would remind him of the cold reality that he refused to acknowledge - no woman really took his attention.
When he watched couples dance on the floor, it was the male partner that drew his eye. That neat, well-fitted look of a man in a suit was something a part of him longed to draw close to. Yet no matter how hard he tried, he could never trick his foolish brain to do what a normal man ought to and view the woman in the same light. Of course he could see their beauty, of course he would compliment how fair and pretty they looked with utter sincerity; but it was impossible to imagine himself in a happy relationship with any lady he met.
Damien would never be able to love someone as he wanted to. That was his reality. The parties reminded him of this time and time again. They were far more sophisticated than the soirees Mark would host - Damien would often compare the formal events to games of chess. One wrong move and it would all be over in a flash. When conversing with other guests in groups, he would learn of rumours and stories of others in this ring of society that he was still adjusting to. A man was caught cheating on his wife, but instead of a mistress, it was another man. Two men living together for years were considered “a bit funny”, but no one could say for sure if it was true or not. Constant little reminders that if Damien was caught with another man, he would be publicly disgraced (without bearing to think of how it would affect his personal life). He had fought hard to get to his position and stay there by 27. As much as he wanted to be in a loving relationship, it just wasn’t worth the risk of losing absolutely everything.
He would insist he was too busy for love, that he “wasn’t looking”, or any excuse for someone not to try and find him a partner. He had so much love in his heart, but he loathed that part of himself. Why couldn’t he be like a normal man? Why couldn’t he have had his heart stolen by a charming young lady? Why did he have to be broken?
Even now, he was broken.
Physically broken. Emotionally broken. Not quite mentally broken, but certainly cracked.
It was the reality Dark lived in.
And yet… There was Wilford.
Wilford. That mysterious, wonderful man that was nothing like the soldier he used to be and simultaneously the exact same The man who could find the strangest ways to bring a smile to his face. It was so long ago now, Dark couldn’t remember if he had romantic feelings for William when he was Damien; but it was a fact he couldn’t ignore every time he looked at Wilford.
Speaking of, the reporter was staring at him rather intently.
“Somethin’s troublin’ ya.” Three simple words, and Wilford hit the nail on the head. Dark’s gaze shifted to the side, before he let out a slow sigh.
“Will… Do you this is all… Strange?” It was difficult to explain it. Frustration was clear on the entity’s scarred face.
“Everythin’s strange, sugar. That’s th’ beauty of life! A bitta madness goes a-”
“No, no. I mean us.”
“Us?” Wilford sounded hurt at that, and Dark internally scolded himself for being so inarticulate. He would only make matters worse if he kept dancing around the topic that had been troubling him all day.
“No, that’s not - Let me start over. I… Will, do you not find it a little strange that we - two beings who identify as male - are in a romantic relationship?” He lifted his hand to interrupt Wilford’s likely counter. His nerves began to fail, and he had to drop his eyes to the ground so he could attempt to continue. “It goes beyond what is considered the norm, and has so many… Risks.” It was strange. No matter how many times he had made this argument to himself, Dark couldn’t find the words to express his internal conflict. However, Wilford’s worry shifted to calm understanding as he pieced together what was going on in the other’s mind.
“You question why our relationship goes beyond the norms others have set?” Wilford asked for clarification. His voice lacked the normal drawl. Dark nodded. “Despite not raising an objection to this when I asked you out on our first date, you feel a little uncomfortable?” He waited for a response, and a long moment passed before Dark nodded. Shame radiated through the gentle glow of red and blue. The reporter reached out and put his hand on Dark’s shoulder. When there was no attempt to brush it off, he knew he was safe to continue.
“Dark… Do you love me?”
“What? Of course I do.”
“And I love you too. That’s all that matters.”
Dark finally braved looking up at Wilford, and at last he could see what was going on. Black was peppering that pink moustache. Those eyes held more resolve than ever before. His posture was slightly straighter than usual. It was as if the Colonel sensed the Mayor’s distress and was trying to reach out in his own way. As though acknowledging this, Wilford smiled.
“Love is love. It doesn’t matter what gender the other sees themselves as. It doesn’t matter what the world says. If you’re in a position where you can love, then love. You might have been taught that love can only be in a certain way, but things are different now. You and I… We’re just as valid as Mark and Amy, and no one can change that. You deserve love. Our friends supported both of us through this. I spent weeks trying to woo you. I’m not letting you slip away because of the fear of what others might think of you. Sometimes… A little risk reaps all the rewards you’ve ever wanted.”
Dark didn’t object when the larger man pulled him close for a tight hug. After all the thoughts of uncertainty and the memories associated with them, he felt grounded. He felt safe. And if a tear or two slipped down grey skin, neither would comment on it.
“I love you, Will,” he murmured against the other’s shirt.
“I love ya too, Dark.”
It was several minutes before either pulled back, though Dark didn’t leave the other’s hold. Wilford was back to normal. Black strands had faded into pink. Chocolate eyes gazed down with pure affection. The past had quietly slipped away to let the present shine bright, as was the right thing.
“You always know the wisest thing to say.”
“Ya think? ‘Cause Bim insists I’m a ‘feather-brained oaf’ after th’ time I cut all power ta th’ buildin’ when I tried ta connect my phone ta YouTube.”
Dark kept close to Wilford, listening to him ramble on about some scenario that belonged in a cartoon. In a romantic sense, his life in the 1920s was bleak. But that didn’t mean his life in the modern day had to be. If ever Dark was invited to an event, he always had Wilford as his ‘plus one’. Dark’s name was already tarnished by a shell of a man who stole his body. What more could he lose if people thought ill of him for loving a man? But even if only a handful of people knew of this relationship, they all supported him. Had he really been so worried that he never considered that?
Purple eyes lifted to meet chocolate ones. A smile was returned with just as much love. No matter what, he would have Wilford by his side.
This was his reality.
For the first time, he was content with it.
#projectdarkstache#darkstacheweek2019#darkstacheweek#writersofmark#darkstache#(I.... Didn't expect it to be this long but I'm really proud of it!!)#(the linked song was the ambience I had when writing. The lyrics don't really match up)#tw homophobia#little angst with fluff at the end#Cracked Mirror (Dark)#Rose Petals (Wilford)#love is love
55 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
bitchiha
✰Lizzie The Rat✰
little-mari-on-a-roof
mon doux chaton
kxisuke
大好き
lchillos
chicas
mschimdt
J☆