Wilfordmotherlovingwarfstache - Tumblr Posts
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I am do Markiplier Alter Egos! (except for Dr. Iplier and The DA sorry)
i need some ask pls send them plss
Wilford Warfstache x Mirror Demon! S/O Headcanons
(Mirror Demons are my own subspecies of ghosts. They have to be tricked into taking someone else's spot inside a mirror. In this case, S/O is the DA. Mirror Demons have skin shattered glass in any injuries, and their inside is just mirrors. They don't have organs or blood.. DA has shattered skin on his left eye, back, and stomach. Mirror Demons eyes are mirrors.They can travel in any reflective surface and disappear by their own freewill.)
The minute you get out of that mirror, you're on the prowl.
You wanted to find William. You wanted him dead.
Keyword: Wanted.
When you found him, and you realized that he could barely remember 7 minutes ago, everything changed.
Now, all you wanted was for him to remember.
To remember Mark, Damien, the party, to remember shooting you.
To remember you at all.
You met back up in a club he was dancing at.
You decided to approach him in his dressing room. Being a mirror demon needing to get into a narcissistic psychopath was super easy, all you had to do was travel into his mirror.
To say he was confused when he looked in the mirror and saw you instead of his own reflection was an understatement.
At first, you just thought he was playing dumb. Running from his own mistakes.
But when he began to attempt to guess your name, you realized that he couldn't remember you.
Couldn't remember what he did to you. What he did to everyone else.
So you stuck around.
Doing everything in your ability to make him remember.
It never worked.
Until you came out of the mirror one day.
You never came out of the mirror in front of him, always talking to him through reflective surfaces.
But when you did, it all came back to haunt him. He couldn't see the cracks on your stomach before.
However, the tear in your shirt allowed him to see all the cracking. To see his reflection, looking at him from his past mistakes.
He'd immediately say your name and start acting like you guys are true friends.
You were true friends.
And then he shot you.
You left and didn't come back for a few weeks and Wilford thought you would never come back.
And so, the cycle of Wilford forgetting you and you doing your damndest to get him to remember, started back again.
I did this drawing long ago. It was drawn with colored pencils. I remember sharing it during one of the 12-hour-long charity livestreams using the hashtag. I was happy to share it because it was one of the first drawings that I was really proud of, and Warfstache is one of my favorites.
Fight the apocalypse!
Darkiplier and Warfstache are trapped in a world where aliens have conquered everything and have turned everyone into zombie-like creatures. The dynamic duo must find the way to stop the threat, but first... Let's have a martini.
I had so much fun drawing this. I had an old sketch of Darkiplier and Warfstache and I wanted to make it into a poster or comic book cover.
🎶I always feel like, somebody's watching me🎶
Having a good day? No? Yes? Have my Colonels.
(Please take them, they are taking up all the room in my closet)
Since you say requests are open and you want some 🤭
I haven’t seen a Wilford one from you in your masterlist, so! (If you were comfortable with it!) something where Wilford confesses to a gn reader. Where Wilford asked them out, but the reader thinks it’s a friendly outing but when Wilford asks them to date him, they fully realize the situation and get flustered!
Keep putting out stories, you’ve got this and I’m proud of you Andrew! ☺️
Confession (Wilford Warfstache x GN! Reader)
OOOO I'VE BEEN DYING TO WRITE FOR WILFORD!! ALSO TYSM FOR YOUR KIND WORDS LJ THEY MEANS LOTS TO ME!! <333
The clock on the wall of your office was ticking away as you typed on the computer. You still had a long way to go before your shift ended, But it wasn't like you had much outside of work in the first place considering you lived by yourself. You started typing again, but you were interrupted by a hand being put on your shoulder, which startled you and caused you to fall off your chair. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry my dear. Are you alright?" a familiar voice asked, reaching a hand out towards you. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you met Wilfords gaze. He smiled charmingly as he helped you up. "I'm fine, thank you, Wil." You said, quickly looking to the ground. "Good! I can't have my future lover- I mean.. very good friend being injured!" He stated, brushing some floor dirt of your shoulders. "Did you need anything?" You asked him, sitting back down on your chair. "Oh yes! Would you meet me in my office in about..30 minutes? I have something of utmost importance to discuss with you." He responded, straightening his bowtie. Before you could agree, he was gone and there was a sucker on your desk of your favourite flavour. You pondered on why Wilford might want to meet you in his office, He was very unpredictable so really it could be anything from a trap to kill you or wanting your help with something.
30 minutes had passed and you walked into Wilfords office, taking in the scenery. It was like walking into a parallel dimension where everything was vomited on by pastels and a rainbow. The only thing that really stuck out in the room was the blob of void which was Wilfords cat. The cat perked up and ran over to you, rubbing herself up against your legs happily. You felt oddly compelled to pet this cat, so you did. The cat purred and meowed in response, continuing to rub her fur all over your clothes. "Thank you, I appreciate the gesture." You told the cat, your tone dripping with sarcasm. Wilford appeared and picked up the cat, smiling at your presence. "Oh you came! I'm very glad." He spoke eagerly as he set the cat atop the cat tree in the room. "Now, we have much to discuss. Have a seat!" He said, ushering you towards the empty chair on the opposite side of his desk. "So, why did you want me here?" You asked, a hint of fear in your tone. "I wanted to know if you'd perhaps be interested in dinner with me tonight? My treat of course." He said, smiling like the gentleman he was. "Oh sure! I'd love to. I always enjoy it when my friends ask to hang out!" You said, smiling. Wilfords smile faltered for a moment. "..Right, yes..̷f̷̷r̷̷i̷̷e̷̷n̷̷d̷̷s̷...." You could've sworn his eye twitched. "Well then my dear, you should be finishing up your work. I wouldn't want to keep you from it." He said, waving his hand at you dismissively. You exited the office, closing the door behind you.
Wil turned around in his chair as he twirled his mustache. "I must wow them with something grand. Something that'll surely sweep them off their feet." He thought long and hard, but his legs started cramping. He went to get up but he felt a fluffy mass in his lap. He looked down and found his cat sitting there. "Hm. Well, that's a problem." He stated while petting the cat.
A few hours later, you entered the restaurant and gaped at how marvelous it was. You felt incredibly out of place as a hostess guided you to where Wilford sat. He looked absolutely gorgeous, wearing a wonderful crisp suit and pink tie, he held something behind his back but you couldn't make out what it was exactly. He smiled brightly as he saw you. "You made it! Have a seat!" You did as told, sitting in front of him. "I've been meaning to tell you something, very very important..But it may damage our friendship.." He hesitated for a moment. "Whatever you tell me, I'm sure it won't damage anything about our friendship. You're my best friend Wiford and you always will be, no matter what." Wilford sighed. "I am going to cut straight to the point. I am madly in love with you and I'd very much like it if you'd become my lover." He quickly said, placing a bouquet pink roses between the 2 of you. Your cheeks flushed a shade of red you never thought existed. "Y-You like me? W-Wil..I..I feel the same.." You sputtered out, your face only getting hotter. Oh god, you felt like you were about to pass out from excitement. Wilford smiled. "I love you, so very much sugarplum."
"I love you too, Wil.."
Art dump ✨️ 🏳️🌈🎨
old art from a few months ago
WILFORD SKETCH
(left, wilford motherloving warfstache) - (right, markiplier TV wilford)
i dont know how old they really are but i imagine hes quite a bit older in motherloving than he is in tv. drew this right around the beginning of october if i remember correctly.
this is an older drawing from a year ago but its my only finished one rn so @the-ideal-iplier enjoy I guess my Wilford design
here is wilford on paper because he was originally supposed to be part of the paper but due to reasons, he has somehow clipped out.
anyways, still, happy birthday mark! 🎉🎉 have a good morning/afternoon/evening/midnight/dusk/dawn/breakfast/lunch/snack/dinner/dessert
transparent ver
slightly late but
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO DARKIPLIER!!!!! 🎉
ˢᵒʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ² ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᴵ ᵈᶦᵈ ˡᵃˢᵗ ʸᵉᵃʳ
A NICE SURPRISE
Summary: Anti feels a little down on his birthday, but as it seems, (some of) the Ipliers already had something in mind to fix that!
Notes: There are some heavily implied self-destructive behaviors from Anti (You know how he is with knives), so be warned. Also there's like, a scarily realistic cake of a head, if that bothers anyone lmao??
Lastly, I'd like to express that I don't usually write for the Ipliers, like at all. I think this is actually my first time writing anything a bit more "advanced" with characters like Wilford and Google. I apologize in advance for any mischaracterization!
If there are any errors, please let me know!
It's dark. Empty.
Anti's sitting on the floor by himself, and in front of him, two skulls, one smaller than the other, with candles on top of them.
The fire is causing the wax to melt and slowly drip down the bone. Anti's humming happy birthday to himself.
He's smiling, but part of him is bitter. The others always gather together to celebrate each other's beginning of existence, and yet here he stands, alone.
He has a purpose to fulfill, he knows, and he definitely won't be regretting his decisions any time soon. Not like he can even feel regret anyway.
He's powerful, he's all-knowing, he's admired, he's feared, he's... Alone. But it's fine. He's fine.
...When did the candles snuff out? He must've gotten lost in thought.
...
He buries his face in his hands and lets out a heavy sigh.
His existence matters, he repeats to himself, he's what people stick around for. There are people celebrating, it's not like nobody cares or something- So why does he not feel it?
His knife glitches into existence in his hand. Ah, the lovely memories of Jack- Jack, who no longer exists. Is this what Chase felt like when he lost his family? Boo. This sucks.
He's staring at the blade.
He has no cake to cut, but he can still cut something. Cut something so he's no longer bored, so he can remind himself just how above everyone else he is, how much this doesn't impact him.
He raises the knife, blade facing his neck. He remembers the people loved this one. They talked about him for a very, very long time.
Suddenly, the door swings open, and it's... Wilford? What door?
...Wilford just opened a door into the void. It's okay, he does that sometimes.
Anti immediately lowers the blade, acting like he was just playing around with it.
Behind Wilford, are... Two others. Anti could tell one of them was here prior to even seeing him, just because of the all too familiar ringing that engulfed the room.
...They're all wearing stupid party hats.
“Suuuurpriiiiiiiiiise!”
Wilford brings his gun out from behind him, and fires in the theoretical air in celebration. Instead of a bullet, confetti shoots out, falling in the air.
“Oh̡? ́Ẃhaţ's t́he s͟p͝ec͝ial occ̨a̛sion?”
He smiles, pretending not to know.
...Wilford freezes up as he looks at Anti, his mouth agape and his gun still aimed at the air.
“Your birthday!”
He sounds so sure, but after Anti's reaction, he's starting to honestly doubt?
“It... It is your birthday, right? I- I even wrote it down so I could look at it whenever I forgot! Look, I've got it right here!”
Wilford pulls out something from behind him again, this time a calendar, which he opens and flips through until he gets to October.
“See? Right here, in the big red circle.”
He aggressively pokes his finger on the date of Anti's birthday, which has been circled with a red marker.
“N-N-No, it is today. He's just being a bra-a-at as per usual.”
Google walks up to them, interrupting. Dark trails up as well after realizing he stayed behind.
Google's not entirely sure why he's even here, considering that just being near Anti completely messes with his system.
“Ẃa̛y to r̨uin t͡h͟ę ̀fùn̷.”
Anti smirks as he rolls his eyes.
“No, it's not "fu-u-un", Wilford actually has a hard time re-e-emembering things. Last time I checked, it is considered impolite to use so-so-someone's condition to make them the punchline of a joke.”
Wilford places his hands on his hips as he stares at Google, clearly offended.
...
“What I mean to say is, you're being a bi-i-itch.”
“You don't speak on my behalf, metal man! I can remember things just fine, thank you very much.”
...Darkiplier coughs, bringing attention to himself. When Anti looks at him, he raises his hand to wave.
“H̴e͞llo̢, "Dam̶ien".”
Dark smiles, and lowers his head slightly as he places his hand on his chest, bowing.
“It's good to see you alive and well,”
He heavily emphasized, still smiling through his words despite his sarcastic tone. Anti's own smile faltered.
“Not͞ muc̕h else I can do, r̕eally. I ca̢n't j͢us͏t go di͡e in a di̶tc̨h, ev͏en if I wa̸n͢tèd to. Not ́humàn.”
“Well, then it's a good thing you don't want to.”
Suddenly the air is... Tense?
...
“...Anyway, we have another surprise for you.”
“Oh̵?”
Wilford suddenly covers Anti's eyes, and he hears someone, probably Dark, snap their fingers.
And when Wilford pulls his hands away, Anti is greeted with the sight of a circular table with four available seats, all with their own plates and cutlery, alongside some mystery drinks...
One of the chairs is fancier, positioned in the middle, and in front of it, a silver platter with a tray covering its contents.
Anti's mouth drops slightly as he looks at everything, over and over, blinking in surprise.
“Sit,”
Dark speaks up and, when Anti looks back at him with a dumbfounded look, pinches the bridge of his nose.
“You know where.”
“R̛i̶g͟h͡t̀- Right.”
Anti snaps out of it and walks over to the chair reserved for him, followed by Wilford, Google and Dark picking their own seats.
For some reason, he's reluctant to sit down.
Dark raises a brow at him.
“Why are you hesitant?”
“I͟'ve juśt, err- Nev̨e͢r had s͟omet̷h͞in͏g l̛i̕ke thi͞s happen t͞o m̛e.”
“I thought people lo-o-oved you?”
Dark almost smiles, considering he, too, would probably say something like that- But any sign of a grin is immediately wiped off his face when he notices Anti's unchanging expression.
He's not reacting. He's just standing there, taking it. Why is he just taking it?
...Anti finally sits down, and sighs as he reaches out for the handle of the tray.
“Oh, and before you say anything, it's cake.”
Anti shoots Dark a confused look, before finally lifting the tray off the platter.
...Oh.
It's Chase's head. Or, at least, a hyperrealistic cake version of it. He understands what Dark means now.
“Sooooo? What do you thiiiiink?”
Wilford rests his head on his palms as they balance on the table, blinking repeatedly at Anti with weirdly defined eyelashes.
“Having the head of your enemies served on a silver platter sounded like something you'd enjoy, so we went with that!”
“It was the d-d-dark one's idea.”
Thankfully Dark was only just beginning to pour this mystery drink in his glass, because he would've spat it out.
He glares at Google, who doesn't react. Dark can't tell if he genuinely can't understand he's playing with fire here, or if he just doesn't care. Probably the latter.
“I̧ n͟ev͘e͞r͏ kne͠w I wąs̛ in̡ y̵o͞u͡r h͢ead̀ that mu̕ch.”
Part of Anti is genuinely surprised that Dark was thinking about him, like at all.
...Dark's eye twitches.
“Yes, well- I had to think of something that at least somewhat resembled your... Likeness. I can't interfere with your story, so this is as close as I'll ever be to giving you the real thing.”
Wilford chuckles before he speaks.
“You know what they say! You can defy death, but you can't defy good taste!”
No one says that.
...
“Th̴a̴nḱ yo̡u.”
Dark smiles.
“What was that?”
“I͜ said̨ t̷hank yòu.”
“Ah. Like music to my ears.”
“There is n-n-nothing to your ears besides ringing.”
Dark lets out a sigh of annoyance at Google's comment, but reminds himself that there are other things to prioritize right now.
“Now- Let me do the honors.”
“Sit down. I will cut the cake.”
Google interrupts just before Dark can get up.
“I've already cal-cal-calculated how many pieces I can cut this into.”
Dark is honestly a little hesitant, knowing Google's past... Attempts at AI generated stats.
But maybe that will get a smile out of Anti, so he decides to let him do it.
“...Okay, suit yourself then.”
When Google grabs a knife, Anti can't help but stare. Stare and think.
Dark must've been looking at him, because he began repeatedly tapping his index finger on the table until he got his attention.
Eventually, everyone is served a piece of... Chase. Chase cake? Cheesecake?
...Google can't eat, but he served himself a piece anyway, just to feel included.
Before anyone can dig in, Dark places his hands on the table, pushing his chair back and standing up before taking his glass in his hand.
“I'd like to make a little speech, for the man of the hour.”
Dark gestures to Anti, who cringes and hides the side of his face behind his hand.
But he's chuckling.
“Òh, si̸t ba̕c̵k dów͏n. You look͞ stupid.”
“Ah ah ah. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity,”
“So, I'd like to say that I am glad to be present in this very moment. Present in front of my equals, my friends.”
“We've got all day and night, an endless supply of food and drinks. Let's enjoy a feast made for a king!”
Dark raises his glass.
“A feast for a king!”
Wilford, too, gets up, holding his own glass that he clings with Dark's. Google doesn't move from his seat, like an actual jerk.
For a moment, Anti wonders if he deserves such a grandiose celebration.
But then he quickly remembers he's Anti, the Fandom favorite, and he loves the attention! So he gets up, and clings his own glass.
When everyone sits back down, Anti is looking at Dark, Wilford, and Google. Dark and Wilford are smiling, chatting away as they eat their cake. Google isn't saying anything, but he's listening.
“You know,”
Wilford turns to Anti in the middle of his conversation with Dark.
“I was gonna get you a present, but this one didn't think my pocket knives were good enough!”
He points at Dark, and Anti fakes a gasp.
“Ho̧ẃ dare you do̷ t̡hat, Da̸mi̷en! Sham̷e on you͏!”
“I- You- I never said your pocket knives weren't good enough! You know why knives don't make a good gift! Especially to Anti!”
“I can h̢e͠ar you̕, you ̀kn͏ow.”
“Oh yeah? Well, even if you didn't say that, that's what it felt like!”
Wilford crosses his hands. Dark facepalms, defeated, and Anti's quietly giggling.
It was an honor to get to be casual with them, really. Even if Google didn't take much of a liking to him, he's happy he's here too.
...Hm.
Maybe he wasn't completely above wanting some company, sometimes. And maybe he did want someone to tell him nice things every now and then. There's no problem with that.
...
What a nice surprise.