Hi, I am not sure if this is the right blog ( I believe it is, but you can't be to sure), but I read a fanfiction from someone with your name on Ao3 and I wanted to ask for permission if I could write a story based on that. It is the first story in the Empty Cribs series. I know that the story is from 2018, but my hyperfixation on the Egos came back with a strong vengeance. Anyways please get back to me if you can, and if this isn't the right blog please disregard this.
Oh no yes this is the right acount!!! feel free!!!! Oh this is a exciting message to get. Sorry for the late response, I don't use this acount very often anymore.
Another meme drawing, this time featuring me and the OCs! I like to think I'm sharing my PruHun smut with them judging by their varied expressions. lol
Since Mark cut his hair, Dark and Wilford get a redesign
However, Wilford has quite literally not changed. How? I have no idea. Wilford defies logic and reasoning. He looks exactly the same as the drawings I did of him a couple years ago
Follow Darkiplier as he goes about his day as head of Iplier Manor, from breakfast, to meetings.
—————
The sun had barely risen above the horizon before Darkiplier was also up, bones creaking and popping into place as they did every morning. He stretched and yawned, brushing a hand through his messy hair as he stepped out onto the balcony.
It was cool, it usually was in the morning, but it was a gentle coolness. The weather rarely changed around the Manor after all. Perfect for the few egos who tended to stay up all night.
Dark looked over towards the pool, catching sight of Mike and Dave with their feet in the water. Two egos who didn’t need to sleep and often kept each other company through the night. He smiled a bit, watching them as the sun came up, before turning back into his room.
He glanced down at Wilford as he moved to the closet, noting the distinct lack of pink in the man’s hair where he slept. Dark sighed softly, feeling Celine brush closer, her red draping lightly against William’s hair before retreating again.
They shifted in place, looking through the closet for something comfortable. It felt like a good day, but as he moved that old pain flared back up. Dark reached for simple slacks and a button up, while Damien’s blue snatched their cane from the bedside.
“Thank you Damien.” Dark hummed, tilting his head in the mirror when he heard the younger twin’s presence hum back. He stared at his reflection a moment before deciding against the eyeliner today. Mind made up, he started towards the kitchen.
Looking down the stairs, aura wincing at the sight, it was days like these that Dark was glad he could feasibly teleport, stepping into a nearby shadow to appear in the kitchen.
First things first, Dark started the coffee pots and tea kettles, the various others all having their own favorite morning drink. Pouring their own cup of coffee, Dark made a cup of tea and set it in view of a small mirror that was hung on the side of the refrigerator. The cup vanished, and if Dark were to look, he would see a shadowed figure in the mirror holding the missing cup.
The manor slowly came to life as the other residents started moving about. Dark closed their eyes, reaching their aura out over the entire household. He smiled, enjoying the feeling of energy and warmth that echoed back to him. Dark had changed a lot over the years, and so had the Manor. Once cold and foreboding, the Manor was now warm and full of life.
A couple of the Jim’s tumbled into the kitchen, happily pouring themselves orange juice before leaving with a cheery “Good morning, Demon Jim!” which Dark returned.
Next came Isaac and Edward, the Host and his Doctor. Dark snorted, watching as they dragged each other towards a coffee pot. A few quiet mumbles from the Host and both left with full mugs.
The mornings were a nice routine that Dark enjoyed, watching as the residents of the house came and went; some getting their preferred drink, others making breakfast.
He listened while Artie, a grown up at the moment, rambled about the developments in his squirrel colony. It must have been an important day in his squirrel kingdom, Dark mused, knowing the other ego tended to prefer his smaller, 12 year old form.
Wil finally made his appearance, pink already seeping into his hair and mustache. Dark handed over the man’s disgustingly sugary drink and listened while Wilford talked about his plans for the day.
“I do have a meeting with Mark today, if you would like to join me.” He informed Wilford, turning to finally put his empty mug in the sink.
“Is it about that rascal… ah… Victor?” Wilford hummed, nodding.
“Simon, but yes. For the most part.” Dark picked up the empty teacup that had appeared on the counter, nodding to the shadow in the mirror.
“Sure! It’ll be good to see old Markimoo again!” Wilford agreed, tossing his mug in the sink, laughing at the sound of breaking porcelain. Dark raised an eyebrow at their partner, knowing the mug would be back in its place tomorrow, but scolding the pinkette all the same. Not that it had any effect.
Wilford laughed it off and left in a whirlwind of colour as he always did, leaving Dark to his solitude.
—————
Dark, contrary to what most of the egos believed, did not actually have much paperwork to do on the daily. He reviewed an incident report or two, but as the Manor was made of magic, he had no bills or taxes to pay.
Instead, Dark often spent most of his time in his office just watching. Their shadows curled under Yancy’s feet as the ego left for Crank House, they twisted around the pencil of the Author, they twirled and danced with Yan as she practiced with her katana’s. Soft blue and warm red curled around the Manor as Dark sat there in his office. It was in the centre of the manor, and consequently, the centre of the entire property.
This also meant that everyone knew where to find Darkiplier.
Damien’s Blue curled contentedly around the shoulders of the Engineer as Engie led Mark, the man himself, to Dark’s office.
“Mark’s here, Dami-Dark!” Engie declared, taking note of both the red and blue aura around them and redirecting who he was addressing.
“Thank you Engie.” Dark smiled at him, shifting to the side slightly for Damian to smile too, before motioning for Mark to sit.
Mark sat across from Dark as Engie left, studying him. “Hello Dark, Damien, …Celine?” A sharp flash of red greeted the YouTuber. “It’s… it’s good to see you. It’s been… a while.”
Wilford stepped out from behind Dark, startling both of them. “It’s good to see you too, Marki! It's certainly been an amount of time, that’s for sure! How’s married life treating you, you rascal?”
“No matter how many times I’ve seen it, that gets me every time.” Mark laughed, gesturing to Wilford. A warm, love struck smile melted onto his face. “It’s been amazing. Yeah, the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Good good!” Wilford sat on Dark’s desk and twirled a butterfly knife around his fingers, reminding Dark that he really needed to get Wilford some safer fidget toys.
“I’ve missed you guys.” Mark said after a long moment of comfortable silence. “It’s nice having free time. I can visit more often again, now that the movie is done and out.”
“Yes, about that.” Dark finally spoke up, drawing attention back to himself. “Simon…”
“Oh… oh no. Again?” Mark looked worried, and guilty. “I thought he was fine. Vic-Simon’s been here for a couple years now!”
“Yes, well…” Dark grimaced, remembering a few nights before, the way the manor had shrieked with pain and fear. “I’ll just say I’m glad Simon has his friends.”
“Should I…?” Mark glanced at the door, starting to get up.
“I think it’s best if you wait until next time.” Dark informed him, relaxing slightly when Mark settled back into his chair. “Let him settle into his new skin, find how he fits again.”
“Right.” Mark fidgeted a bit, feet tapping nervously, guiltily.
“Ole Markimoo, king of angst and sad stories.” Wilford joked, pulling a margarita from thin air. It fell flat.
Mark ran a hand through his now shorter hair, something Dark had noticed through himself and Wilford a week or so earlier. He’d been glad, the long hair had been a hassle.
“This one… wasn’t completely my fault.” Mark sighed. “David already wrote the basic story. Still...”
It was the same with Dave. Mark may not have made all the creative decisions, but that didn’t stop both from appearing at the door of the Manor.
Wilford redirected, talking about some big project, catching Mark up in the idea. Dark let them talk, interjecting here and there, his main issue already brought to light.
————
Mark had left hours ago, but the Manor still felt his presence. Everything seemed to run smoother, air seemed fresher, a warm breeze wafted through the halls. The residents felt it too, most of them in better moods. It was always a good day when Mark visited.
Dark pulled a drink from a cabinet behind his desk, setting a matching glass out on his desk in view of the shattered mirror that hung over the door. The glass disappeared, and Dark could see a fragmented shadow figure in the mirror, holding it.
“And how have you been holding up, Old Friend?”
A soft whisper filled the room, no words, but Dark understood anyway.
“You’re right, the man truly is incapable of writing a happy story. Though I’ll admit the tragic tales are much more entertaining.”
The faint impression of a wry laugh echoed through the room before the glass reappeared on the desk. Dark found himself wondering when the Actor would make an appearance next.
“Nothing new, as far as we know.” Dark stood, his own glass empty. “Goodnight, Old Friend.”
The shadow figure disappeared from the no longer broken mirror, and Dark exited his office, heading for their room.
The moon was high in the sky, a glance off the balcony showed Engie and Simon staring up at the stars from the deck. Dark smiled, wishing the Manor a goodnight before changing and laying down on their bed. He knew Wilford would inevitably join them, he always did, but for now Dark let the rhythm of the Manor close in as they drifted to sleep.
inspired by the algo showing me Dark! personalities like Jacksepticeye and Markiplier have and you know what? who says that's just for Youtubers? This is Evil Phoebe, she commits tax fraud, keeps exotic birds illegally and engages in high speed chases.
