#darknsweet lore

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....them...

They're librarians in the village

They're always together

They use they/them because they think about themselves as one

More lore under the cut

The village has its own "library."

Yes, there is an archive somewhere in the studio, but it's far and quite dangerous to get to, so some of the books from there were dragged into the village. A couple of ex-prisoners' houses were consolidated by tearing down a wall, and that's how the library came to be.

It's run by two Lost Ones, Rachel and Richard.

They are always together, almost always seen holding hands.

They are distinguished by a fabric around their hips that looks like a slightly torn apron. Rachel's is a little skewed on the right side, Richard's on the left.

They are both bookworms and are very protective of books. Alas, they have little ability or practical knowledge and are not as useful as Sarah or Will, but they are still appreciated.

No one knows this, but the two of them keep a diary in which they describe all the events that affect life in the studio and their village, taking on the role of chroniclers so to speak.

Sometimes they do little shows with paper dolls and an original plot.

They are very quiet and can very rarely be made to talk. But they do talk sometimes with the help of their paper dolls, by holding them and moving them.

They panic if they are separated from each other.

Their weapon of choice is the bow. Two bows and two quivers of arrows are kept in the library, where they spend most of their time.

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Iiii made another one- Their name is Will

A bit of lore under the cut

He is distinguished by the handkerchief around his neck.

The chief mechanic when Dark is not in the village. If nothing is broken, he is in charge of entertainment.

Likes to watch movies alone sometimes, or with Dark if they dig up a new movie and want to check it out for decency and stuff.

While the vast majority of the Lost Ones gravitate towards Dark, taking him as an example/seeing him as an idol/sometimes developing a crush, Will has always gravitated more towards Sweet, mostly because of his love of projectors and old movies.

Sits in the village mostly because everyone would be devastated to lose a talented mechanic, but he wants to explore the studio, inspired by adventure movies.

The weapon of choice is a huge wrench, which they sometimes carry around with them. More often than not, he keeps it in his toolbox.

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Without sleep Dark goes insane. So Sweet is looking out for him. When Dark starts to show any signs, Sweet will immediately try to calm him down by covering his eyes and making Dark lean on him. After that he will try to make him take a nap

But Dark being an anxious workoholic doesn't make things easy

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Thimkin...Abt 'em 🥺🥺🥺

Some lore under the cut

Hello folks, I'll be rambling about some of my ideas - that have been circling in blender that is my brain - today

It's worth starting with Dark's "right hand", Sarah.

She is distinguished by the piece of fabric on her right arm, on her forearm, to be exact.

She shares many of Dark's views and her main goals are to help other Lost Ones and set up a peaceful life in the village, to create a little utopia there.

She gained authority with her knowledge of psychology, specifically body language. She was a great help to Dark in tracking down and catching criminals.

Everyone in the village knows how to fight, her weapon of choice is a spear. She keeps her weapon in her house, and spends all her time in the village, either at her place or in the "library" where she expands her knowledge.

Because of her desire to help everyone, she tries to get Dark to open up to her. So far, she's not succeeding.

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That he used to be a cruel prophet who sacrificed people, fought and killed, cannot leave his head, no matter how much time passes.

Always, somewhere on the edge of hearing, a voice whispers to him that he is not worthy of a good thing. That he will never be good enough. That no one cares about him. That no one needs him. That he stayed the way he was. That it's time for him to just end this.

This "past self" of poor Dark sometimes tries to break him, showing him hallucinations, trying to take over his thoughts and body

Dark is fighting this entity in his head for now. But it is so difficult and exhausting..

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My boiiii

His little sister Melissa loved playing with his hair, so he decided to grow it out for her.

Even after her death, when he fell into a severe depression, he couldn't bring himself to cut his hair.

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Along with the pride month coming to an end, I want to throw some facts about my characters at you, because I think it's cute/interesting.

Trouble doesn't have a biological sex. He's just a toon, literally a sexless being. But he still talks about himself as a boy, he thinks of himself as a boy. But at the same time, he doesn't know such concepts as gender and gender roles. Therefore, he can wear a skirt/dress if he likes it. He can wear "girly" or "boyish" clothes if he likes them. He can openly show emotion/attachment and encourage others to do the same. Kid doesn't see much difference between boys and girls because he is friends with everyone. He is a toon! He wants to make all people happy! It doesn't matter what sex/gender they are.

Dark knows the difference between the sexes, and therefore can be confused when meeting people whose gender indentity is not the same as their biological sex. Don't get me wrong, if a person who looks like a girl asks Dark to use he/him pronounce toward her, he will do so. Though you may have to try to explain to him what, how and why. What will surprise him the most is people using they/them pronouns. The first thing he'll ask will probably be like, "are you multiple people in one body?" But he will try to comply with your requests, just give him some time to get used to it. He's not going to treat guys or girls differently. Yes, he treats different categories of people differently, different factors influence that, but gender is not among them.

Sweet doesn't see the difference between people. At all. You are all a potential threat to him. For him, the world is divided into two parts: those to protect (Dark, The Lost Ones, Trouble) and those to destroy (literally everyone else, unless Dark tells him to stop). This inky homicidal creature will connect you to God's wi-fi while absorbing the Equality juice.

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Hey, let's talk about Dark and ✨love✨

You know, Sweet, albeit very awkwardly and ineptly, was showing Dark signs of affection. Like, he was clearly letting it be known that Dark was his favorite, following him everywhere and trying to protect him, listening only to him, constantly trying to touch him, like hold his hand or hug him.

I mean, well, it's very much like the projectionist has a soft spot for the prophet. So why didn't Dark notice that?

I thought about it, and I had this idea

What if Dark simply doesn't understand the very concept of love? Yes, he knows there's a thing called "love", but he can't really understand what it means. And he can't understand how it feels.

He knows what joy is and can distinguish it from sadness. He can even tell the difference between irritation and anger. Because he has a clear idea of how these emotions are supposed to feel, even if it is rather primitive.

(for example, fear = the desire to run and hide, tension all over the body at the same time as some mystical weakness, breathlessness and ringing in the ears).

But the concept of love is too vague for him to realize and identify in himself. Also, it is complicated by the fact that there are several kinds of love at once, like love for a family, love for a friend, and love for a partner. And even love for your partner can be different, like romantic love and sexual love.

(and also let's not forget that Dark struggles with understanding of his own worth A LOT. This makes it difficult to even think about being loved by someone).

It's all just too complicated and confusing for this poor man, can someone please explain it to him dhdjjddk

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My brain is melting a little, so it's about time I wrote something!

Yes, Dark came out a little different than we're used to seeing him, but I think that only adds points to their later relationship (◍>ᴗ<◍)

"The first meeting"

The day promised to be interesting. Norman had learned a week earlier that newcomers were coming to the studio, and today was day X. When he finished working on one of the projectors, he stretched lazily and quietly walked out of his office. He had a certain reputation in the studio. He had a reputation for walking in the shadows and knowing everything about everyone. Some were afraid of him. To Norman, that was amusing. Yes, he wasn't a little boy, but still, he was young, and so he still had playfulness and some mischief in his head. He couldn't resist the urge to sneak up on people or make innuendo that he'd heard their private conversations with other employees. He loved the way they twitched in surprise or turned pale, becoming like bleached sheets. He couldn't help himself! There was no entertainment at all for him in this studio; he had to fight boredom somehow.

He strolled leisurely through the corridors of the studio, treading noiselessly on the wooden floor. A couple of times he passed by familiar faces. The employees didn't say anything, but just scope anxious glances at him and quickened their pace. He wasn't particularly interested in them. But he soon found a person who interested him. The newcomer was chatting with the janitor, Wally.

The new employee had their back turned to the projectionist, so he couldn't see their face. Norman stopped as he began to examine the newcomer. Because of the long hair, gathered in a low ponytail and tied up with a white ribbon, the projectionist assumed that the janitor was talking to a girl. The newcomer was a little taller than Wally, and wore clean and well-groomed clothes that were, nevertheless, a little big for her. Because of her pants instead of a skirt, her broad shoulders, and her comfortable shoes, Norman decided the newcomer was an addition to the group of mechanics. The janitor was babbling on and on, so he couldn't hear the newcomer's voice. But in spite of this, and the fact that Norman hadn't even seen her face yet, he decided the newcomer was his type. Perhaps he would annoy her more often than the others. Well, it was time to make a first impression.

He stepped away from the wall and headed toward a couple of workers. The janitor only noticed Norman heading toward them when he was literally a couple of steps away. Before the janitor could say anything, the projectionist's hand came down on the newcomer's shoulder.

"Got yourself a girlfriend, Franks?"

He grinned mockingly, looking at the startled janitor, who nearly dropped his mop at the man's sudden appearance. While Wally looked frightened and a little lost, trying to find the words, the girl mechanic spoke up. And it was unexpected. It was mostly unexpected because Norman heard a voice that was pleasant to the ear, but still definitely male.

"Is that you talking about me?"

It was the first time in his memory that he had been caught off guard. He looked at the newcomer and got a new surprise. Blue eyes were looking at him. Blue and deep, like the sky or the ocean. It was hypnotizing and drawing him in like a whirlpool. For a second, it even seemed to the projectionist that he wasn't looking at a human, but at a mythical being about to take his soul. It was a strange feeling he had never experienced before. He was surprised and...embarrassed.

The unknown man looked him straight in the eye, expectant and annoyed, clearly wanting to hear Norman say he was just kidding. But the pause lingered because the projectionist had fallen into a stupor. However, it wasn't showing on his face, so the newcomer took it as a sign of disrespect.

"I didn't know there were such insolent, rude and shameless people working here."

He sighed angrily, grabbing the man's hand and removing it from his shoulder. He didn't let go of his hand, however, when he took a step back. He shook it, squeezing it hard, as if challenging him.

"My name is Samuel. Samuel Lawrence."

That managed to bring Norman to his senses. He shook his hand back, wondering at the young man's grip. They looked into each other's eyes again. And that was something new. Norman was already used to the fact that in his rare conversations with other employees, they always looked anywhere but into his eyes. This one...Norman could already tell that this guy would be interesting to work with.

"Norman Polk. I apologize for the misunderstanding."

Sammy huffed, frowning.

"Yeah, you better be sorry. Make that mistake again, and you'll face the consequences."

With those words, he let go of his hand and turned around. Grabbing Wally under the elbow, he began to walk away, stomping a little in annoyance.

Norman, on the other hand, froze in place, watching them leave. After a few seconds, he looked at his hand, which remained outstretched for a handshake. It hadn't gone according to plan, what the hell was that all about.

He put his hand down, still feeling the touch of Sammy's cold, rough palm. That pale skin, that a bit fluffy, thick black hair, that voice that sounded like honey, that firm grip, those eyes.... why was he even thinking about it? He slowly began to feel stuffy, and his face felt like it was starting to burn. He needed a break, some fresh air. He's just overworked in his office. And that's why he feels so weird. He just needs to go outside for a while and he'll be fine. Yeah, that's right. That's what he'll do.

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Okay, so- random facts

The Lost Ones and Dark have a special.. bond. The only way I can describe it is as the "angel radio" from Supernatural

He constantly hears soft cries, questions about when they can go home, their pleas for this nightmare to end, their howls of pain. And it's all right there in his head, 24/7 without stopping or being able to drown it all out in any way

The worst part is that every time one of the Lost Ones is on the verge of death, they let out a bloodcurdling scream on this "radio," which the others pick up on

(In fact, I think long and hard about the idea that everyone can be hooked up to this "radio," even The Ink Demon(or, well, the evil entity), whose voice is slowly driving everyone insane)

Frankly, the death cries of the Lost Ones were one of the reasons Dark wanted to help them...not die. And for that, he created a cult. And that's how he found out that to live long, you need a reason you want to hold on to

Another random fact, Dark needs sleep

Of course, he doesn't sleep as long or as often as the average person, but still. If he isn't able to sleep for some reason, he will enter a state in which he is a danger to himself. If even in that state he is still not able to sleep, he will become a danger to those around him

Not because he will be angry about being disturbed from his sleep (just like me, when someone wakes me up early in the morning on my day off). It's because he'll just be out of his mind. He'll see horrible hallucinations and he won't be able to account for his actions

In a nutshell, with no sleep, Dark goes brrr

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Well hello there! I don't have any content to offer you today, so let's talk about the relationship between Dark and Trouble!

It's worth starting with the fact that Dark and Trouble will establish a father-son relationship eventually.

But that will only come with time and with great difficulty. Mostly because Dark will forever remember that Trouble emerged from the Ink Demon's remains.

And yes, Dark had already shown some concern and care for Trouble the moment he saw him appear and decided to carry him to safety. But in spite of that, his fear of the Demon didn't go anywhere.

As silly and funny as it sounds, any attempt by Trouble to interact with him will only cause Dark to just- [fear.png]

But don't get it wrong-

Dark will take Trouble to safety. And he will watch over him, so he doesn't get into trouble. And he will even give him attention and spend time with him.

But Dark will be constantly on edge. He will act aloof and closed off. He will fear and worry that the Demon may return at any moment.

Because of his memories and mixed emotions, he will continue to call Trouble his Lord.

And the main problem is that Trouble has absolutely no memory of the time when he was the Ink Demon. For him, all the years of confinement and the living Hell in the studio passed like the blink of an eye.

Imagine at one point, you're living a relatively normal life(Trouble doesn't know that he was actually living a very non-normal life), you're surrounded by people and everything alive and all that. But then you close your eyes and find yourself in a strange place. All the people are gone, the studio looks dark and scary, and you're alone. And the only person around is something that only looks like someone you once knew. And even he is not eager to spend time with you, treats you coldly, and for some reason calls you Lord.

That's- not good for a child-

And just to clarify, Trouble represents a child of 8-10 years old. He thinks like one, he acts like one, he feels like one.

So he's freaking out. Which makes them both freaking out. While Norman is chillin with the Lost Ones

All Trouble wants is to be friends with Dark. You know, really be friends with him so he doesn't feel alone.

But at the same time, Dark refused to let this kid near him because of his trauma.

And this went on for a long time. Dark has warmed up to the kid a little bit, but he's still acting aloof...

Until Trouble finally can't take it anymore and throws a whole tantrum. You know, like kids do-

And so, this tantrum frightens Dark, but at the same time, he feels guilty about it:

Yes, that child did strange and creepy things sometimes. But at the same time, he didn't give him any reason to think there was anything wrong with him. He gave no reason to be afraid of him, it was just Dark's idea that there might be something in him. Dark finally realized that Trouble was just... Trouble. He's not a Demon.

That's all for today, thanks for stopping by!

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Adding some pieces of lore again. Dragging this from a Discord server. Talking about Dark and Trouble, as always. Specifically about their connection to their past selves

Dark has almost none memories about his human past. The only thing he can remember clearly is a day when he was turned into an ink monster

But he still has his muscle and emotional memory, if it can be called so

Examples: he always has an uneasy feeling when he's near the ink river. The reason for it is that he almost drowned, when he was a teenager

When he found the tommy-gun, he was pretty skilled with using it. The reason for it is that his father had a hunting for hobby and he taught his son a lot of things

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I'm leaning more and more toward the idea that Trouble is just Melissa's consciousness, trapped in an inky body without any memories. Like, if Dark at least remembered that he was human, Trouble is sure that he was always a toon. Maybe he has some sort of emotional and muscle memory, like Dark, but it's not certain, it's hard for me to tell

From Dark's younger sister, he has only some of her habits left. For example, he would hang onto Dark's leg, wrapping his arms and legs around it. If he is scared, he wraps himself in a blanket. He dances just like that little girl and prefers the same genre of music

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The day it all changed

It's a short story I posted on the Discord server a long time ago (I'm not there anymore, alas). And it just so happens that now I really wanted to post it here. I never considered myself a writer, and I don't think you'll like what you read. Especially since English is not my first language, there may be errors and inaccuracies in the text. However, I tried very hard when I wrote this text. The story told here is canon in my au about Dark.

Warning, this describes a scene of forcible conversion of a man into a monster (albeit not in great detail), if you are sensitive to this kind of thing, please refrain from reading.

-William Franks, I swear to God!

The young musician's disgruntled voice could be heard throughout the music department. It wasn't unusual, just something the janitor had done wrong again.

After that shriek, however, everything fell silent. Though no, you could hear Sammy Lawrence's slightly disgruntled voice if you stood just outside the door of his office.

- I swear, one more time you'll lose your keys! That's the third time this week, and it hasn't even gone all the way through!

The janitor stood, guiltily lowering his head and nervously clutching his work cap in his hands as the musician told him off, sitting at his desk.

Sammy sighed loudly, closing his eyes and rising from his chair.

- You know you could get fired at any moment. Why are you so inconsiderate?

- ... Are you going to tell Mr. Drew about this?

Wally looked up at him. Oh, that puppy look he knew how to do. Sammy could never resist that cutie. The musician squinted his eyes, but then closed them and just slipped the keys into his hands.

- Wasn't going to, don't make that face.

He looked at him with a slight smile.

- What am I, some kind of monster?

Wally was just about to smile at him and thank him, when a howl of a siren pierced the air of the studio. Neither Wally nor Sammy could remember a time when they had heard such a horrible and disgusting sound. A voice began to come out of the speakers so distorted that it was hard to tell who it belonged to and what it was saying.

..............

One word they could make out was fire. The studio was on fire.

Well, that wasn't so surprising; most of it was made of wood, the ink often leaked, and there was plenty of machinery around... But those thoughts did nothing to distract from the growing panic. The two looked at each other. It took them a moment to nod at each other and then run toward the exit of the office.

- You got the upper floors, I got the lower ones!

That's all Sammy said to him as he ran for the stairs. There was no smoke yet, and no smell of burning, but the adrenaline was taking over his body. Scared people started running out onto the stairs, panic starting to set in. The musician could barely stay on his feet, facing the panicked people. He knew that if he fell now, he would be stomped to death. He descended to the floors, quickly kicking in the doors of the emergency exits and directing the terrified crowd there. He quickly checked all the rooms to make sure no one was left behind. He knew that some might have been hiding out of fear, and that could've been dangerous.

The siren never stopped howling.

There was a loud pounding in his temples.

His legs were tired from running.

He was out of breath.

The air was cutting his throat.

His lungs burned.

He was beginning to slowly panic himself, too; after all, it was hard not to get caught up in the general mood. But for some reason unknown even to him, he kept going. It was as if he wanted to be a hero.

He was getting lower and lower. And he began to notice puddles of ink.

If it weren't for the siren and the sound of footsteps, the studio would've been quiet.

............

The ink stains grew larger and larger, but the musician didn't notice, continuing to circle the floor in search of people. He went into another room, looking around for those who might be hiding.

But then a huge ink stain right on the wall caught his eye. He tilted his head slightly, coming closer. And after a couple of seconds, it was as if his oxygen had been cut off. A kind of animal, spontaneous fear gripped him. He was so scared that his legs were shaky. And he couldn't understand the reason for such intense fear until he turned around and looked at the doorway.

Bent over, standing in the doorway was a tall and impossibly thin figure. The creature's proportions simply didn't allow it to be called human, nor did two horns on its head and a wide half face smile... The musician couldn't even see the creature's eyes - something was covering them.

Something black and sticky.

And yet it was dripping from the monster's just wrong body.

Tap-tap.

Even through the howl of the siren, Sammy could feel the heavy, hoarse breathing of his guest.

Tap-tap.

What a familiar smell.

Tap-tap.

And no smell of burning at all.

Tap-tap.

Oh...

Tap-tap.

So the alarm wasn't because of the fire, it was because of it?

Ink dripped from the demon's body, forming puddles on the floor. There was some kind of black aura or something around the creature, Sammy couldn't think about it. He was consumed by fear with every second he looked at that face. The creature was taking steps toward him. Slowly. So slowly. It staggered, as if its legs were too weak to hold it up.

And the closer it got to him, the more the musician pressed himself into the wall. He would've tried to run, but fear literally paralyzed him, making him slide down the wall to the floor. His body wouldn't listen to him. Soon, fear and panic forced his brain to stop working.

-Please, don't...

He could barely squeeze out a plea for mercy.

- I don't... I don't want to die like this...

The tears rolled down his pale face. His voice was so quiet, it just drowned in the siren's screech.

It was hard to believe. And yet, it was happening. And he was scared. He sobbed and begged it to go away and leave him, like a frightened little child.

But it only ended with an icy hand grabbing him by the throat, lifting him up and pushing him against the wall. Though the monster had moved slowly earlier, it now pinned the unfortunate musician to the wall rather quickly and easily, as if the man weighed nothing.

It was hard to breathe.

Was it over?

.............

No, no, no! It can't be! Not like this! I don't want to!

He tried to move his legs, tried to kick the monster, tried to free himself from his inky hands. But his legs couldn't get off the wall. And they were cold. Alas, Sammy couldn't look down to see what was wrong with them.

He started screaming. As loud as he could. He kept hoping someone would come and save him. Someone who was left on the floor. At least one living soul.

But he knew that he was alone.

And even if there were people around, they wouldn't hear him.

After just a few seconds of him screaming, he felt something in his mouth. Cold. Bitter. Slimy. Pulsing and sinking deeper into his throat. His eyes went wide. He wanted to close his mouth, to vomit the abomination out, but the creature's hand wouldn't let him. His body began to sting. There was a sharp pain, and the world began to darken in his eyes.

............

It was a perfectly ordinary day.

Today he wanted to go to the bar with Norman and Wally after work. And tomorrow he wanted to go to his parents' and sister's graves. He had plans, but.... well, apparently fate had plans of its own, too.

He will disappear.

He'll be gone.

He will be killed by this thing that literally drenches him in ink.

In agonizing pain, utter loneliness and fear, this musician will go to the afterlife...

Well, they must have been waiting for him there.

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*Gently slides in*

Why did Sweet have a crush on Dark?

For starters, Sweet remembers Dark from the time they were human. Ever since then, the poor mechanic has had a soft spot for him

He didn't recognize Dark immediately, of course, but he did after the battle. Dark overpowered him and showed him his strength. And Sweet respects strength

Plus, Dark, even after becoming inky and a little crazy, acted like a cinnamon bun. Which Sweet liked a lot, and therefore his crush became even stronger than when they were both human-

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Hello

Goodbye

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🐙