#I can't help but like the idea that in the dreamscape he can control shadows

[ryokiowriter]

Sweet Dreams

His carefully cultivated darkness was swirling, the swell of nebulous tide keeping the same time as his tapping foot. It rippled and trembled, echoing its master's meticulous metronome as he waited. Patience was nothing new, a skill he'd been forced to cultivate over the years, but it was currently running thin. He’d been waiting for quite a while now. Just where on earth was his guest?

A burst of static broke the silence, a cold breeze ghosting across the back of his neck. Ah. There.

Reaching up to readjust his tie, Darkiplier chose to address his guest without looking, only turning his head once he finished speaking. 

"I’ve been waiting. You're late."

Even though the monochrome man's voice held no hints of irritation, Anti couldn't help but bristle. He'd worked hard to get here, bent his own reality and warped it to pursue his adversary all the way to this dismal little corner of space. His grin faltered slightly, flickering gaze darting between Darkiplier and the table behind him. 

"͈̱̹̩͙I̬'̞̼̣̺m ̢̤̥n̟e͎̻͓v̭̳͈eŗ̱ ͉l͉̜͎̞̮̀a̗̩̬̗̯t̘̯͟e̳̻͎͓̞͠.̷̤̲̲̼̟͙ ̦͚̙Ì͓̞̬̥ ҉̩͙g͞e̩̝̳̭̱t͖̜̕ ͇wẖ͔̱̖er҉̻̙̰̱e̷̩̤̲̙̮̹̼ I̝̫̯͙̰ͅ ̣̺̤w͈̩̻̹͖̩a͉̦̱͚̝͉n̷͉̩t̷͚ w̼̥̪͔͇̼̜h̶͎̼̦̮ẹ̖n̫̘ ̻͉͙͕I̦̬ ͍̖w̬a͕̲̣̪̹̥͈͟n̤͜t̴̪̼̤̣.”͘ 

His eyes caught the table again.

"͓͉̺̥͈̭͜W̗̘̝h̠̼͚͇at͉̙͔͔̕.̭͙͚͓̜͚.̣ͅ.̸ ̶̦i͖s҉̜̝̖͓̪ ͇̺̼̻̲t͘h̤̯͔̯̜̻a̧̮̤t҉̟̜͉?̞̫"͕͍͇

Turning slowly on his heel, the broader-shouldered man opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. That set Anti's very teeth on edge. 

"Relax."

A cold hand seemed to squeeze at his stomach. There was no chance of any relaxation happening anytime soon, especially not when his opponent asked him to in such a honeyed tone.

 "I'm not looking to fight today. Our last two encounters have been... well, 'tense' would be putting it very lightly."

T͚͉͖̳̙̝͙̤ͥ́͊ͬ͞r̬̻̤͈͌ͥͣͅã̝̖̤ͪͩ̋ͨ̑̕͜p̷͕͎̖͋̓͋͑̕t̸̠̗̹̲̓̕r͙͙̣̣̩ͮ͛̍̿̽̒͂ä̢͍̥̰̰͈̻̳̪̂ͦ̿̔̚p̡͍͚͚ͤͪ͆̉ṯ̢͔̫͖̜͍͎̪ͪ̔̈́̇̍͝ŗ̳̎̋͂ͤ̄ͦ̆a̴̼̥̘ͫͬ̎̐͝͞ͅp̮͚̳̟̗̔̋̓̾̿̑t͕̠̗̽̌́̀͞ŗ͔̲̗͎͎̟͗̄͂̿ͫ̄ͨͤ͜a̘͊ͬͬ̄̉͌̈̓͋͡p̡͔̬̒̔ͩ͂̾̆̃͞t͇͈̝͐ͦ̂̈ͤ̀ͅr̶͖̞͍̿̍͌͌̀͑͟Á̵̵͔̭͔̝̽̌ͥ̌̍͆̇P̡̳̘͓͊̇ͣ̓͒͟T̢̛͔̖͙͖̈̏ͅȐ̶̳̖̜̥̜͗ͭ͒ͨ͌̈ͭĄ̴̩ͮ̽̇ͦP̵̳̬͎̣̗͍̫ͩͮ͡͝Tͯ͌̐̋̋̍̆͋ͨ҉͍͖̟͖ͅR̢̨̻̙͆ͫͬḀ͎̮͖̳̘͋̅̇ͥ́ͧͮ̚P̝̻̟͈͎̓ͭ̄̈́͘T̵̻͚̬͍̥̫̪̭ͣ̓͢ͅR̷̟͖̳̖̻̪̯͙͗̄ͨ͂͞A̴̦̘͓̺ͥͫͥ́̚͡P̵̮̣̯͍̜͓͌ͣͧ̑͠—̶̵̯̚͢ͅ

"́T̤̥h̸͔͈ą̣̟̟̣̦̝t̴̼͎͍̼̹'̫̰̮s̲̳ ̤̮͉̻̼͜a̜͈̟͞ ̛̤̹̳f͡u̝̠̣c̡̭͓k̫̜̫i҉ng̳͝ ̘̲̤̳̙͎u̩̮̕ͅn̲̤̭̤d̴e̛͓̱̺͖r̴͍̬͇͈s̙̯͉̙͎͎̤͠t̛a̩̜̤͍̱̰̻ţ͓e̷͖͔̟͇m̧̘̱̦͚̬̦e̪̗̪̻͓ͅn͖̟̮̣̙͔t̹̥͕̬͢ͅͅͅ.̷̫̦̙"̱

A derisive snort followed his proclamation, fingers twitching as if longing to wrap around the handle of a blade. He never really did stop moving, but the way Dark was looking at him, he couldn’t help but immobilize just a tad. Noting the stilling of Anti’s glitches, Dark gave a slightly warmer version of his usual smirk.

“Anyways, back to your question. ‘That,’ as you put it, is my peace offering. A light luncheon, something to whet our appetites for conversation. Let us not compete, but conversate instead.”

Bending slightly, Anti peered around the smoky silhouette of the other man. The table was indeed set with a small feast, though not the kind he had been anticipating. Instead of a variety of foodstuffs, he was greeted with the sight of sweets. The only thing they had in common was that they were all chocolate.

“̸͍̼̳̣…̬̪I͙̼̱ ̢͈͔̲͔͎̩h̪͚̝̜̦ad ̩̗͕̬̝̺͟n̛o̭̠̪̠̹̝͡ ̛̹̹̫i͞d̗̱̼͖��e̞̝̱͎͟a͞ ̨̫̳̭̜̠y̫͎̖̩͉̬o̤ṷ̤̩̣̩͞ ̷̩̥̖h͎̬͓̪̮̟ḁ̷d҉̲͉̜̥ ͇̲̣̱̭̀s͇͕̟̖͔͚ư͎̜̱̮ch̰̥͕͉̻̻ ͎͎̀ḁ̮̻͠ ͖̜̜͕͓s̝͕͉ẁ͎͍̰e̷̠͙̱͙̲͕e̜̗t͚͓ ̝͓t̝̦̺̪̫̹̱͝o̹̟̲̖̺o̘̖͈̬̬̳͓͞t҉͙͉̭̬̗h҉,҉̩̩̤̫̺̪”̵̫ he finally grumbled, glitching forward and into one of the unoccupied chairs. In a swirl of shadows, Darkiplier followed suit, reappearing in the chair opposite his adversary. Silence hung in the air, uneasy and full of hesitation. As he helped himself to a slice of Black Forest cake, he couldn’t help but notice that his guest was not— save for the occasional glitch— moving.

“Are you not hungry?”

Jumping slightly, Anti tried to pass off his shock at being called out as just another glitch, flickering in and out of view for a few beats. Before he could even offer up a response, Dark spoke again.

“I understand that you may not trust me… so, consider this.” Spearing part of the cake upon his fork, the shadowy figure raised it to his mouth, making an effort to show Anti that he had indeed swallowed it.

“If it was poison, why on earth would I be eating it?”

Not entirely convinced, Anti scowled at his host, reaching forward and taking an éclair. Taking a bite, he chewed thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes at the other antagonist.

“̛̮̟͔͚̣͈W͎͕̪̻͓͍h̦̤̦̫̠̯a̸̱̪̟͕̜̜̩t̛̰͓̣̪͉͙͔ ͎̠̻̗͜dó̠̖ yo̠̘͈̹̦̺̯u̯̠̭͇̗͟ ̵̤w͙͈͚͎̻̯a͚̦̤̟̻n͓̭̭̠̗ͅţ̘̘̮̝̩?̣͠”

Sighing, Darkiplier let his fork rest upon the plate with hardly a clatter.  “I already told you, my verdant villain. This is a peace offering, a chance to talk rather than trade blows.” Steepling his fingers together, he regarded Anti with a serious look. “We are not meant to exist on the same plane outside of these dreamscapes. Yet we fight and squabble here, trying to outdo one another, to be king on the outside.” As he continued to explain, Anti had already polished off the éclair, reaching next for a cupcake, laden with frosting. Dark waited until he’d taken a bite to continue.

“To be quite honest, I wanted to tell you that you’ve lost.”

Anti froze in place, all-too keenly aware of the fact that crumbs lingered on his lips. Bright blue eyes flickered to black, the sugary confection suddenly tasting bitter upon his tongue as he set the remainder down upon the plate. He didn’t want to swallow, not after hearing that. With an absolutely wicked grin, Dark continued.

“See, here’s the thing. If you want to catch a rat, you can easily set a trap. But there’s a chance the slippery little rodent will escape. Besides, even if the trap is triggered, it’s far too quick to properly enjoy the rat’s demise.” Letting his toothy smile subside to a smug smirk, he regarded Anti with half-lidded eyes. “Poison works so much better, especially if it’s in the form of too much antidote. Tell me: how are you feeling now?”

If he was going to be honest, Anti was actually feeling quite unwell. Antidote. Clever. However, before he could even voice a violent complaint, he clenched his jaw, one hand flying to cover his mouth. His stomach lurched, bile rising to the back of his throat unbidden. Standing so sharply as to knock over the chair, Anti moved to bolt, instead collapsing to his knees. Despite his efforts to keep his mouth shut, his lips pulled away from his teeth, expression locked into a painful grimace.

“̶Y̡̞͎͉-͇͓̤̝̻̘̮y͞o͘u̵͎̻̦͈͙ͅ—̨̖̣͕“̧͈̭̣̭̮͍ He couldn’t even finish his sentence, his already fragmented form twitching and heaving as his system attempted to purge the toxic substance he’d unknowingly ingested. Green dripped from his mouth as he raised his gaze, a similarly-colored pupil flaring brightly in the darkness.

“͓͕B͖̖̱͚-̴̘͉̟̰b̫a҉̩̯̥͚s̱̺̝̞͢ṱ̥̩͇̤ͅḁ̶͈̬̥͖͔ṛ͍̰̤̩d̳͖̙̞̗͍!̡̟”̫ Clicking his tongue, the sharply-dressed man stood, walking to stand over the hunched-over figure that was his adversary. “Now, now. There’s no need for such language. Your last words should be more than just an insult, they should be something meaningful.”

Anti tried to use the close proximity between them to lash out, summoning up his knife from the depths of the abyss for additional damage. The second the handle touched his fingers, however, he was immobilized. Even his glitches had stopped. The source of his frozen state was made evident, his shadow still moving slightly. Crooking his finger in a beckoning motion, Darkiplier brought the shadows upright, thusly straightening Anti upwards and bringing them uncomfortably close.

“As I said before, you’ve lost. So… any last words, Anti?” A few beats of silence passed before Dark realized he’d immobilized the other so much so that he couldn’t even speak. Sighing, he relinquished his control over Anti’s shadow, the green glitch falling to the floor with a spluttering cough. Anti took several shuddering breaths, green liquid still spilling from his lips as he tried not to choke and gasp. Unsatisfied with the other’s lack of a proper response, Dark’s expression turned to rage, grey fingers reaching down to tangle in silken strands, yanking the poisoned youth upwards.

“Any. Last. Words?!”

Unexpectedly, his words garnered a response. It started softly, a weak gurgle, rising in pitch first, then in volume. Anti was laughing.

Dark’s astonishment at the laughter didn’t last long, nor did his wonder for the cause of it. Anti had barely twitched, and yet the monochrome spectre felt a strange warmth blooming from his shoulder, accompanied by a white hot pain. As he tried to pull away, he found skinny arms wrapping around him, practically crushing their forms together. Another cough wracked Anti’s form, the action followed by the softest words Darkiplier had ever heard from his fellow villain. 

 “̸̲̦̯͔̘͕͕I̯̻̺̕f̻͈̯̱͝ ̸̦̤I̻-̮̞̦͎̫͈̜͝I̯͇͙̯’̴̦m̛̟̲̗̤̝ ̤͈̱g̸͎̟̬̰̩ò͔͍̟̯̝i̵̘̲͓̦n̬̮̞͝g̸̝͓̬̦̜ ̡̣̖d́o̳w͕̰͕ṉ̬̫͓͢…̨̩ ̟̲̗̼I̩’̪̻̳͇͚m̻̼͉̯̪ ̵̖̣t̛̬̘a͕̗k̸̜̤̹̰̳͔̦i̮̫̟͝ǹg̻̣͈̗ ̟̫̺̣̭̥̼̕y͖̟ơ̹̙̲̜ͅu̸̘ ̜wi̱̦̼t̬͈̠̫͙͙h̟̬̕ ͍̺̭̗͔m̡̘̖͕̮̙-̛̯͕̘͙͚͎m̗͔ę͕͕͙̤ͅ.͏̦̠̼̫̰̳̟”̰̜̠̭

The knife in his hand was yanked unceremoniously from Darkiplier’s back, only to be plunged into his shoulder again. The action repeated several times in an astonishingly rapid fashion, each blow going slightly lower than the last. A cough to match Anti’s left him, blackened blood spattering forth and staining his lips and chin. With one final plunge of the knife, Anti ceased his barrage of attacks, both of them collapsing to their knees, exhausted and wounded beyond saving. As Darkiplier’s vision began to blur, he heard one last fragmented sentence from his adversary. 

“̘ͅN̯̯̩o̥͚͙̹̙̬͟ͅw̹͙̹͢…̜͙̀ ̴̱̤n̶̼͚̭-̗͖͉̼̲͚̀ǹ͎̘̖̘̳͉o͓͔w̮̤͖̪ ̝̰̘̤i͍̱͖͍ͅt̯̭̱̘̯̳̼͟’̟̲͝s̩̼̤̣̩̲ ҉̲͖̫̬y̡͖̥̮o̝̱̖u̘̠͞r̪ ̧̯̟̙̼t͚̳̞ṷ̴̩ͅr̷͓͚̱n͕͜ ̴̹͖̼̦͚͓̬t̥͇ơ͎̦̣̫͔ ̴̫̤̗w̹̳̼̰͘ạ̞͎͈ķ̩̼ę̱̯̣̪ ̦͍̜̘͚͈u̸̹̮̫̮͔p̼̹͖̳.̭̺̝̜͔̖̻”̳̘

Mark jerked awake in a cold sweat. He could still feel a lingering burning sensation on his back. Subsequent contorting and frantic patting confirmed that there was no actual wound that carried over from the dream, prompting a sigh of relief. Admittedly, though, he was going to need a bit of a walk, maybe a glass of water. He had to shake off such a disturbing dream. Fumbling for his glasses, he threw his blanket back, sliding out of bed easily and speed-walking down the hall.

The water was cool on his tongue, washing away the bad taste the dream had left in his mouth. Or maybe that was mouth ick from sleep. Either way, he couldn’t help but mull the dream over in his head, inspecting his reflection in the glass. A frown curved his mouth downwards, dissatisfaction evident on his face and in his reflection. “So, Anti wants to kill Darkiplier?” he mumbled, talking to himself, musing almost. Taking off his glasses, he rubbed at his eyes again, groaning softly.

“He’s not going to get rid of me that easily.” A tiny smirk tugged at his lips, before he took another sip of water. “Clearly, we both need to try harder if one of us is to rule absolute.”

One thing was for sure. This was, by no means, over. And if he had his way, Darkiplier was going to finish the battle, once and for all.

He would be king.