#madman with a familiar face (wilford)

[xshatteredreflectionsx]

Apparently, someone has taken it upon themselves to take Morgan's camera and desk and turn it into a scene of tiny Lego characters going on a hike to the top of Camera Mountain.

Apparently, Wilford is taking advantage of the light coming through the window to practice his selfie skills.

These two acts may or may not be connected. At least Wilford has brought a good bribe of a mug that has "I've had it to Here" printed on it, with "Here" beside an arrow that points to the bottom of the mug. (rosetintedgunman)

A charming set up, to be sure. The topmost Lego minifig seeming to be the fearless leader of the expedition, boldly bearing a paper -and-toothpick flag with a pink mustache drawn in pink glitter ink.

It was a nice thing to come back to, after the stress of the day. Even Wilford voguing it up in their room was a welcome sight after not seeing him for a while. But they had both been busy, Morgan with their career and Wilford with The Roller and the studio and whatever else he did in his free time.

"I've got lights stored away if you really want to make those look good." Morgan signed. "Really make your pinks pop, you know?"

[xshatteredreflectionsx]

Morgan: * side eyes @rosetintedgunman suspiciously *

The Swiss Valais Blacknose have been rubbing themselves against the red feeder while eating and it managed to dye their wool pink.

[coolmayordamien]

Little Talks

A gift, for my @willywarfy

I don't like walking around this old and empty house.

He cautiously pried open the door, his haunted eyes darting nervously from side to side. He couldn't see anyone; no shadows lurking in the corners of the hall, no figures looming in open doorways, but that didn't necessarily mean that he was alone.

Wilford was never alone.

He was, however, afraid.

"It's okay, Wil. Just hold my hand," a voice whispered from behind him. The sound of that familiar voice soothed his nerves immediately, and Wilford's tired eyes lit up with unabashed joy. He spun on his heel, excited to finally see his dear friend once again, but his delighted greeting died away as he realized that no one was there.

Hurt, pure and raw, crawled across his face like he had been slapped. Feeling lost and frightened, his lower lip trembling as he tried to make sense of the mean trick that was being played on him, Wilford let his empty gaze wonder down the empty hall. He should leave his room for once, should…should get some water, maybe go outside and actually get a little sunshine, but he was too afraid. He was afraid to do it alone.

"I'll walk with you, my dear," his friend said gently from just over his own shoulder, a smile in his voice. And…and that wasn't right, wasn't right at all, because his friend only smiled when he was with Wilford, and he wasn't with Wilford because he wasn't here, he wasn't anywhere-

The next thing that the madman knew, he was in the kitchen. A glass of cold water that he didn't remember pouring was clutched tightly in both of his shaking hands, and his listless gaze darted around, surveying the bleak and decrepit room. This was his home, wasn't it? Why would Wilford let it fall into such a state? Why did he feel so uncomfortable here, or in any other room in his house?

"It's not all about the poker! It's not all about me-"

The man with the pink mustache cried out in fear, bringing his hands up to cover his ears so that he wouldn't have to hear that voice. The cup that he had forgotten he had been holding fell to the ground, shattering against the floor in a spray of water and broken glass. He stared incomprehensively at the mess until he found himself in bed, curled into a tight ball with his hands over his ears, blocking out the sound of breaking glass and laughter and jokes and the unbearably loud silence emanating from the other side of the bed, until an icy hand pressed gently against the back of his neck, soothing him. A sudden weight joined him, curling around Wilford, comforting him.

Some days I can't even trust myself. (It's killing me to see you this way.)

Wilford did not hear his friend again until some time had passed, until he remembered again. He stumbled through the foyer of the home that was his home but also not his home, weeping, crying out for his friends. He heard the gunshots, louder even than the silence that lived in his bedroom, saw the gun in his own hands, heard his own broken voice crying out for mercy, justice, forgiveness.

He was on the roof when his friend appeared to him, announcing himself with nothing more than an icy hand on Wilford's shoulder.He didn't say a word; he didn't have to. Wil was flooded with a stark and sudden shame, overcome with grief and loneliness as he released a ragged cry.

"I never stop hearing them," he wept into the wind, dragging in a ragged breath as the cold hands and arms moved to encompass him completely. "Mark, Celine, Damien…everyone but you. Why don't you speak to me anymore? You're…you're all I have!"

The silence was his only answer.

I miss our little talks.

How long had it been since he had seen his dearest one? Heard his voice, even? Time was rapidly losing all meaning for Wilford.

Everything was. He spent his days and nights pacing the floor of his own small world, his hair unkempt, his clothes growing looser on his frame. He became paranoid, afraid, unsure of his goals. What was he supposed to be doing? If he did it right, would his friends return to him? Wilford didn't know, couldn't remember, and there was nobody around to tell him. He was so tired of being lonely.

We used to play outside when we were young.

He didn't have the strength to stand anymore. Wilford could only sit, hunched and curled into a ball, on the fainting couch near the window. He wanted to see the sun. His friend had always called him sunshine, had said that Wil was the brightest thing in the sky. But he only felt cold now, and his friend was gone.

"Does this remind you of when we were kids?" an unexpected voice mused. Wilford blinked in surprise, a small smile breaking out across his face at the sight of one of his dearest friends. He couldn't remember his name, but knew that he was a sweet man who held a very important position.

"Are you talking about all of the times that you boys stayed up all night in that ridiculous treehouse, talking about life and watching the sun come up like wannabe philosophers?" a second voice teased, throwing an arm around her brother and sending Wilford a wink and a smile. He didn't know her name either, but he did know that the pair were twins, and some of his dearest friends.

"Like you weren't right there with us every time," the mayor smirked. "Life was yours to choose even then."

"Damien!" Wilford cried in delight, jumping to his feet. How could he have forgotten about Damien, that old rapscallion? He-

Fell flat on his face, having forgotten how weak he had become.

Damien and Celine were gone--had never been there in the first place, and he was alone.

Wilford wept.

Your mind is playing tricks on you, my dear.

"I'm sorry," his friend whispered, holding Wilford tightly. He was too tired to wonder how he'd gotten into bed, or how long he'd been there, or anything else really.

"I asked too much of you," his dark darling continued, and Wilford was astonished to realize that he could not only hear the voice, but he could see the monochrome hand tightening around his middle. "I didn't realize how hard it would be for you, without me here to remind you."

"Don't leave again," Wilford begged, his eyes wild as he rolled over to see that beloved face for the first time in…in so long. He cried anew at the sight of those familiar, worried eyes.

"I won't," Dark agreed, sounding sad. "I can't, now. You're…"

"I'm what?"

Swallowing hard, the darkness forced a smile. "You're here with me, now. That's all."

"I'm so happy," Wil sighed with relief, curling into his lover's cold arms. "I was getting pretty tired of being alone. I've forgotten where you all went without me, but it doesn't matter. I'm here now."

"Yes," Dark agreed, sounding suspiciously like he was crying. "You're here now."

And though the truth may vary this ship will carry our bodies straight to shore.

[callmegkiddo]

DarkStache fluff

-@wilfywarfy

So I finally got to you, Old Man~

Kehehehe, I'm gonna looove writing this

I'll be using my versions of Uncle D and cotton candy Father-

Hope you don't mind-

Anyway, hope you like it dad <3

It was one of those days in the ego manor. Google shutting down because of his overheating from lack of maintenance. Bing needing a motherboard replacement because he got water spilled all over him. It was all too much for him, he needed a break. Dark may look like an entity that could take anything, but he's still fragile...

And a certain colorful goof, knew this, so he had a plan.

It was around 9 pm, those evening times when the rest of the ego's played board games to try and stay awake. Of course whoever ends up passing out gets to help anyone with the winner's chores.

In one of the more secluded places of the manor was Dark's office. Inside was Wilford, sitting on the monochrome couch, twirling his butterfly knife around. Dark kept on with his work, ignoring his partner and continuing on with the mountains of papers.

Wilford whistled a tune, one familiar and sweat that Dark knew all too well. The entity tensed up, his shoulders squaring up, brows furrowing more than they already were. Sighing, he reaches his hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose.

"Wilford, I advise you to stop that" requested Dark, massaging his forehead from the headache forming from his lack of rest.

Wilford behind his pink mustache, pocketing his knife, skipping over to Dark. "Alright, alright. I'll stop" the madman says, pausing as he leans down to look Dark in the eye, his auburn eyes gleaming with mischief. "Buuut, if you come to bed with me"

Dark scowls at that, his eyes narrowing with annoyance. Wilford knew that Dark didn't need sleep, but that didn't mean he didn't need energy.

He sighs, putting down his pen and closing the folder on his desk. He has had enough of shenanigans from everyone. If Wilford will keep to his word, then so be it.

Pushing his chair back, he stands up, fixing his tie in the process. "Fine, but only this once," Dark says gruffly. Wilford beamed, rushing over to drag Dark out of the office and down the hall toward where everyone's rooms are.

Dark grunted, displeased by the sudden rush, but thought nothing much of it as he was able to keep up with his lover.

Reaching Wilford's room, he opens the door and ushers Dark in. Closing the door, he rushes in to fix up and fluff up pillows on the bed (probably adding more). Dark stands by, sweatdropping with confusion.

Wilford goes to unbutton his vest and put it away. "You should get comfortable too, blue" Wilford calls out over his shoulder, loosening his bow tie and pulling it off.

Dark sighs again, taking off his dress coat and putting it on the chair, pulling his tie off and unbuttoning one or two buttons on his dress shirt.

Wilford had also taken off his pants, throwing it onto a chair and clearing his throat. "I think those pants of yours are a biit too... Scruffy for sleepy time" Wilford warned, adding another pillow to the pile on the bed.

Dark, despite how he sorta was, he cracked a ghost of a smile. Chuckling lowly, he pulls off his belt and hesitantly shimmies off his pants. Making sure to take off his shoes, but keeping on his socks, he looks up to see Wilford rushing over to hug him tightly.

The cotton candy mustache man took his cold hand, leading him to the bed. They both crawled in, sadly not all the pillows stayed on and fell, but that was fine to him, both of them.

Wilford scootched closer, wrapping his arms around Dark's waist. Burying his face into Dark's chest, he sighs. "I missed this... I missed you" Wil mumbles, his eyes gleaming with love as he looks up at Dark.

Dark hums, reaching up to take Wilford's chin and tilting it further up, ghosting his lips over the other. "I know..." he hesitates, but Wilford didn't really feel patient. Pushing forward and capturing Dark's lips.

They both melted into each other, their lips clashing with arm and cold. They pulled away, Wil smiling and Dark's lips twitching upwards juuust slightly.

Getting comfortable, they snuggled up together. Even if Dark's aura was deafening, the ringing had softened, becoming comforting. And the colorless objects near Dark? Ignored, as Wilford's only worry was his lover.

The silence took over their thoughts, that is till Dark whispered lowly, as if shy and scared to even say it. "I love you... William" and that was all Wilford needed to hear as they both drifted off.

(Jesus I think Dark is a lot more OOC than he should be-)

[inkribbon796]

Like a House of Cards Ch. 10: To Go Forward, Sometimes you Have to go Backwards

Summary: Mistakes happen when you mess around with magical objects.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Brody walked down to the parking lot after the Sides and the Androids had gone up to talk about the plan and safety measures.

Glitch Logan was running diagnostics on the completed machine so Brody was left in silence for a bit.

So it left the hitman with his thoughts. Which wasn’t always a good thing. He took out his wallet to look at a picture. It was the only professional picture he had of the twins.

His Dark — Brody’s Dark — was sitting in a chair with their little twin sons seated in his lap. The hitman was standing behind them. Dark was the only one of the four without a huge smile, his smile a bit more subdued.

The sight brought a sad sight deep from Brody’s face. Another family was being ripped out from under him. Just when things were starting to get good again.

At the sound of footsteps, Brody quickly pocketed his wallet and turned to see, to his relief, his head saw Glitch Logan watching him. His nanite body visible.

Glitch Logan looked at Brody, “You didn’t tell him.”

“A’course[1] not,” Brody scoffed, and put his wallet away. “Bubblegum fooker is takin’ Dark from me, I’m not gonna help him take my twins too.”[2]

Glitch Logan was quiet, which just let Brody go off on a tirade, “I shouldn’t have ta sacrifice one set ‘a my kids fer the other. I wanted T.B, Lils, and Paddy ta be alive an’ safe but I shouldn’t have ta let the Twins not exist ta cause it. An’ I shouldn’t have ta let my kids die ta get the Twins.”[3]

“Your logic is not flawed,” Glitch Logan agreed. “Unfortunately that does not seem to be the situation we have found ourselves in.”

“Fook!”[4] Brody shouted.

“There a problem?” Nestor came down with the rest of the group they needed. Silver, Jackie, Dark, and Wilford had accompanied the time travelers and their past doubles.

“No,” Brody scoffed, glaring at Wilford. “Obviously not.”

Janus was walking down with Roman. The creative Side not wanting to be far from Logan.

“Head back upstairs,” Glitch Logan told them. “This will be a quick procedure.”

“As if we trust you,” Roman rolled his eyes.

“I don’t care if you trust me, I care if you’re safe,” Glitch Logan spat.

“We’ll stay until the transfer starts,” Janus told him. “To make sure you don’t do anything to him.”

The young glitch demon smiled, “I don’t need any of that anymore.”

“Did you do anything to him?” Roman demanded.

“I have only been here for a minute or two, I am fine,” Logan reassured.

Everyone was having their little eleventh hour conversations. Jackie walked up to Diamonds who was signing with J.J.

“Got a question, before I head up,” Jackie asked Diamonds, gesturing to his own throat. “If yeh[5] don’t mind me askin’[6].”

“Not at all,” Diamonds smiled, his voice crackled a bit. “Logan, Google, and Mortician made this for me. It’s a voice box that transmits signals from my brain to the box. It does have to be replaced every few months because my magic destroys it, but it was quite a nice gift.”

“Yeah,” Jackie smiled.

As Jackie was talking to J.J, Brody walked over to Chase.

“I hope yeh[5] don’t remember anythin’[7] I know,” Brody told Chase. “If my world an’ my family is gonna crash down around me, then I don’t wanna remember it.”[8]

Chase was just staring at him, “Me too.”

Brody turned to glare at Wil, “Take care ‘a him, or else I will find some way ta make yeh pay fer it.”[9]

“I will,” Wilford promised but it was clear Brody didn’t believe it.

Then he turned to look at Dark, his expression softer, “Yeh deserve the world, yeh really do an’ when yeh see the Actor, punch him fer me. ‘Cause I won’t be there ta do it.”[9]

“I don’t need to be convinced to hit him more than once,” Dark hissed.

Suddenly the core of the machine began to glow sharply and everyone had a moment’s notice before pain ripped through the people in the middle of the room and a crack shot down the room. Dark, Wil, the Sides, Diamonds, and J.J to one side, and everyone else to the other. A white light engulfed the room.

When the light cleared Silver was standing in a grassy field with Jackie, Ethan, Brody, Chase, and just the Host. The second Host and Nestor were missing.

“I feel weird,” Ethan was patting his chest. “I feel really pissed and angry and I don’t know why.”

“What Ethan is from the transfer, if he is lucky then it will soon fade.” The Host began to run out of the field, “The Host, Brody, and the heroes need to find a time rift out of this point in time quickly.”

“Why, where are we?” Mark asked, picking up Ethan and following him as the rest of the group followed the Host as well.

Coming to a halt, the Host turned to look at them. “Dark is not with the group so the heroes should rid themselves out of their outfits, they will stand out.”

“What is goin’[10] on?” Chase demanded.

“The Host and his allies are in the year 1963, and today is the day that the Entity and the Madman meet again. They will become allies and take over the city within a matter of weeks. By the end of the month the city will become a completely different creature and will be irreversibly driven down the path that will cause the creations of the heroes that fight against both of them.”

“What?” Brody shouted. “How’d we all get thrown back? Where are the others?”

“They have the Anomaly, so we need to find our current Anomaly and use that to get to where Dark and the others are,” the Host explained as everyone started switching into their civilian clothes. “The other heroes and villains were pushed into a different reality and the two groups must regroup.”

With their outfits a touch more casual, the group tried to look like they weren’t time travelers or aliens.

Ethan had to stop a couple times to catch his breath and not have a panic attack. Because he felt like someone had emotionally set him on fire and he wanted to stay next to Mark or Séan the whole time and only started to feel like he was going back to normal by the time the Host took them through a building where Mark heard a rather familiar voice. It was Dark’s and Wil’s voices. Mark could smell the odor of blood and rot in the air. As if Dark had been killing with his aura.

As the crew snuck through the building, Mark froze to listen in. They were so close. Dark wasn’t as powerful, he wasn’t prepared. He could—

“Wil, she’s sleeping,” Dark grumbled, his voice sounding almost as if it hadn’t been used in some time.

“Oh good, good,” Wil decided. Some of his words were hard to understand but suddenly Wil yelled, “I’ve got a great idea, we’re gonna make a TV show.”

Dark was quiet for a long time and Mark wished he could see his face. But he lingered long enough to hear the future mob boss sigh in frustrated indulgence, “Okay.”

A light clapping reached Mark’s ears, “Excellent, Dames, we can talk details at this lovely little diner it’s got—”

At this point, their voices began to get farther away, and the Host cleared his throat so Mark raced away from the door and into an alley.

“Silver and Jackie will accompany the Host into the next building to get the Anomaly, all others should remain up here.”

“Okay, okay, let’s go,” Séan agreed and the Host used his aura to help them break into the apartment building. But since it was set into the hill there were three flights of stairs connecting them to the ground floor and the Host was practically flying down the stairs, his aura helping him navigate the steps and get down safely. Then he took them down the hall to a room where there was a huge magical sigil on the ground and a magic standing in a red tux with black eyes, and a wailing infant cradled in his hands.

It was the Actor, on the eve of another great story.

“There you are,” Marc smiled as the little squirming and crying bundle. “You’ll make a wonderful addition to our story, won’t you?”

Then the door was ripped open and the Host was there. Marc and the baby both startled. “The hell?”

Now that Marc was distracted the Anomaly he’d been working with had nowhere else to put its magic so it ripped open another rift in time. Another point decades in the future but not quite the time that the Host and the others had come from.

Séan had been racing down the hallway and then tripped on a carpet. So he slammed right into the Actor who dropped the baby right into the time rift that immediately closed shut.

“No!” The Actor shouted. “That was my fucking son!”

“Yikes! Host can we get the kid back?” Séan demanded. “Where’d he go?”

The Host’s aura forced a portal around the Actor and he was gone, the box that housed the Anomaly glitched and the Seer grabbed the box and began to sprint out of the room.

He opened the box and quickly pulled out a bracelet, holding the box with his aura as he ran, “the Host and the heroes must go now. Before the Actor returns. They do not have long but they cannot face him now. They do not have the power nor space to be able to do so.”

“Who was that?” Mark asked, following the Host as Séan ran alongside Mark and they headed back up the stairs.

“The archnemesis to the Entity,” the Host told him. “The child he had would have been used as leverage against the Entity. But now he is in somewhat safer hands and will eventually live under the Entity and the Madman’s care. You have actually just saved him from a loveless environment.”

“Was that one ‘a yer brothers?”[11] Séan asked. “Yeh have what? Five ‘a ‘em?”[12]

The Host leaned over the banister to look down at them,  “The Host also has a sister.”

“Yeah, but yeh an’ that guy hinted that was a boy,”[13] Jackie stalled.

“Yes, and it is true that the infant was one of the Entity and the Madman’s sons, but the Host likes to include his sister when he can.” The Host gave them a huge smile before starting to dart back up the stairs.

Séan and Mark smiled at each other before following the Host back out of the apartment and into daylight where Chase and Brody were still waiting with Ethan.

“You guys got it?” Ethan asked.

“Time Anomaly scored,” Séan snapped his fingers over in the Host’s direction. “Let’s go home.”

The Host motioned for everyone to pull in together. “The heroes still have to locate the second group. They were pushed into a separate dimension and cannot be left there.”

“We get it, we’re pressed for time,” Mark agreed. “How do we do this?”

“The Host will start up the transfer,” the Host offered as everyone gathered in close. “Six will start the transfer but only five will move through.”

“Do I have time ta[14] say a couple words?” Brody asked.

“Yes, but Brody does not have long,” the Host warned.

“Fine,” Brody agreed before walking over to Chase.

“Look out fer[15] him okay,” Brody asked Chase. “Yeh don’t have ta like him, but just make sure Wil doesn’t take advantage ‘a him. He means e’erythin’ ta me.”[16]

“I can’t promise I’ll be good at it, but I’ll try,” Chase promised.

“Thanks,” Brody smiled sadly, taking out his wallet to look at the picture one last time. The world seemed to fold in on itself around them as a blinding white light came from the Host and engulfed the group. “That’s all I need.”

With a roaring in everyone’s ears the past and future of two different timelines compressed a little tighter before the hole in space and time flexed again and the Host sent them to find the others that had been separated from them.

After the flash of blinding light faded, they were standing in the same back alley. The streets were right but the feel in the air was wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations

1. Of course

2. Bubblegum fucker is taking Dark from me, I’m not going to help him take my twins too.

3. I shouldn’t have to sacrifice one set of my kids for the other. I wanted T.B, Lils, and Paddy to be alive and safe but I shouldn’t have to let the Twins not exist to cause it. And I shouldn’t have to let my kids die to get the Twins.

4. Fuck!

5. you

6. asking

7. anything

8. If my world and my family is going to crash down around me, then I don’t want to remember it

9. You deserve the world, you really do and when you see the Actor, punch him for me. Because I won’t be there to do it.

10. going to

11. Was that one of your brothers?

12. You have what? Five of them?

13. Yeah, but you and that guy hinted that was a boy

14. to

15. for

16. You don’t have to like him, but just make sure Wil doesn’t take advantage of him. He means everything to me.

[xshatteredreflectionsx]

It was easy to forget that despite Wilford's... everything, he had been alive for a really long time. Probably anyway. If anyone were to ask him, he'd say that he was at least older than ten. Point was: he had been around the block a few times, and had some genuine wisdom rattling around in that noggin of his. Namely that this world (worlds? Timelines?) didn't make any goddamn sense, that they were -all of them- just putting on a show for the amusement of an unseen entity, and that the rules tended to favor those who embraced that fact with both hands. Case and point: it had been raining when Wilford ushered Morgan out of their apartment. He had rolled his eyes, sighed and like he was scolding a misbehaving puppy, told the sky "no". Just like that the rains parted above them like he had just opened an umbrella. He then produced two ice pops with a flourish and linked his arm with Morgan's, as casual as you please.

It had been a scary thing to face at first. The existential horror has nearly broken Morgan, but maybe it already had, considering how... Not "okay", but "fine" they were learning to deal with it. They'd still rally against the bullshit of course, but... Somedays they'd wake up as a space captain, or a prisoner and that was... Fine. They were fine.

Morgan sipped idly at their ice pop (cherry, because cherry was a good flavor despite what some people said) as Wilford explained his worldview. And there it was: The Warfstache Words o' Wisdom -trademark pending. They nodded along and cocked their head at the aforementioned pineapple cloud, drifting happily in the sky.

"This is why I listen to you and not Dark," they signed, ice pop dangling between their teeth. "The world doesn't need another Dark. Not that I'm gonna slap on a pair of suspenders and bowtie anytime soon, but you get my point." Hopefully he did, anyway.

"we're two sides of the same coin, right"

(tfw both are sunshine babies)

@xshatteredreflectionsx (Prompt from here)

-

"I'm glad I've gotten ya ta takin' my point of view."

Was it March? Were they sitting on a park bench eating ice pops? Absolutely. How could Wilford resist? They were colourful! His - pink, obviously (because it's strawberry flavoured, obviously. The colour doesn't matter!) - was waved at Morgan as though it was an extension of his own hand.

"It's not easy ta get ta this point, but I think it's th' better place ta be. People'll look at ya an' think that yer all chirpy an' cheerful all th' time, so that means yer stupid or oblivious. They don't know it's not always th' way." A half-hearted shrug accompanied this. "Still, life is better when ya look up. See th' clouds up there? That one on th' left looks like a pineapple. But if ya resigned yerself ta feelin' nothin' but doom an' gloom, y'd just see it as a cloud, y'know?"

[wwoww-au]

Wizards Aren’t Witches

A week had gone by since Dark had healed enough to get back to work, and they were itching to get back on the case. Thankfully, an old document recently found had given a lead as to where Warfstache was: a small town in northern England, 1620. They rubbed at the faded bruises on their wrists as they sped through the halls of Crime Department headquarters, nimbly avoiding obstacles. They stopped when they reached an unassuming door adorned with a shining gold plaque, a simple image of an hourglass carved into it. They took a deep breath and opened the door.

They had been in the room what felt like a thousand times before, the place where Time wizards opened portals for WC employees to jump through history. The room was large and circular, with a high vaulted ceiling that seemingly went on for miles. Various clocks, hourglasses, watches, and sundials of all kinds hung from the walls, each displaying a different time. The muted sounds of ticking and chimes echoed off the marble floors. To the right of the door stood a faded couch next to an old wooden wardrobe, always filled with clothing appropriate to whatever period they would be travelling to. Across the room stood a man in a blue suit and hat, checking the time on an ornate gold pocket watch. They recognized him as Jameson Jackson, or JJ as he liked to be called, one of the Committee’s go-to Time cores for jobs like this.

Dark cleared their throat to get Jameson’s attention. “I’m sorry I’m late,” they said bluntly.

“Don’t be. According to me you’re right on time, and I’m sure to someone else you’re early.” He closed the watch and tucked it into his pockets with a leisurely smile. He was normally a very quiet man, but when he did speak he always said the strangest things. Typical for a Time wizard.

“Can we just get this over with?” Dark tapped their foot impatiently. As eager as they were to get on the case, they hated this part. Time travel wasn’t a particularly pleasant experience, leaving anyone not naturally Time cored with a feeling of discomfort and slight nausea. Jameson gave a simple nod, and pointed towards the wardrobe. He opened his mouth to speak before Dark interrupted. “For the last time, I’m not changing into some silly costume. I look fine.” They tugged at their trenchcoat as they stepped towards the center of the room.

Jameson stood opposite of him. Eyes closed, he held his hands out in front of him, dark blue energy radiating off the fingertips. A small ring of blue and gold sparks formed in the very center of the room, slowly growing in size until it was a few feet in diameter. The clocks on the walls began to change the shown time, moving backwards at various speeds and stopping at 4:31. The marble tile of the floor faded away and became a small drop to a patch of dirt covered in dead leaves and twigs. The clocks began to chime in unison, the sound reverberating off of every surface in the room as more and more joined in. Jameson kept his eyes shut, anything to keep him from breaking his concentration.

Dark called out across the portal, raising their voice to be heard over the cacophony of bells and chimes. “I’ll send you a communication when I need extraction.” The gripped their cane as if to brace for impact, and hopped into the portal.

As soon as they were through, the ring closed and the floor returned to normal. Jameson’s eyes snapped open and he fell forward onto his knees, the fatigue of using all that energy to open a time portal hitting him all at once. The clocks stopped their incessant chiming, falling back to their dull, rhythmic ticking as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Time marched on.

.

.

.

Dark landed roughly on the leaf covered floor, stumbling and placing a hand on a nearby tree until the time-travel dizziness went away. They glanced up to see a few gold and blue sparks fizzle out of existence. As soon as their stomach settled, they took a look around at their surroundings.

They were in a lightly forested wood, surrounded by tall thin beech trees. The ground was covered in a mushy mixture of mulchy leaves and dirty snow, soaking the ground underfoot. It was very cold, and they could see their breath billowing in the air. As the dizziness subsided they spotted some faint smoke off in the distance- probably coming from a settlement of some kind. It would be best if they could avoid civilization for as long as possible. They’d learned it was inconvenient to mess with the locals, especially ones as finicky about magic as those in this time period.

The first thing they had to do was locate Wilford. This was usually pretty easy, as he preferred to be near loud parties, and if there weren’t any he would start one. They didn’t expect him to be too hard to find, but as they looked around they couldn’t see any signs of a party. The woods were quiet aside from the occasional bird call, and they couldn’t see anything that screamed “time travelling madman”.

That is, until the serene stillness of the forest was interrupted by a blaring boombox falling from the sky a mere foot in front of them. They jumped back, frantically looking up to see a dissipating spiral of gold sparks and pink bubbles, similar to the portal they just came through. They rushed forward and turned off the boombox, hoping that no one from the nearby town heard it.

“Ah, you found my music! Now I can start getting the rest of the party together!” a familiar voice called behind them. They whipped around to see Wilford trotting out from behind one of the trees, a dopey smile on his face and a few dead leaves stuck in his wild pink hair. Dark gained their composure and pointed an accusing finger at the man before them.

“Wilford Warfstache, you’re under arrest for stealing the Time Wand from the Wizard Commi-” they firmly stated with utmost confidence before getting interrupted by the criminal shushing them.

“Boring… just like the rest of this drab time period. Let’s talk about that later. Now is the time for a party.” He pulled the ancient wand from the holster on his belt. He waved it with a flick of his wrist, producing a small bubbly portal next to his hand and pulling out a martini glass full of a fizzing green liquid.

“That is one of the most important artifacts to wizardkind, will you stop waving it around like it’s a toy!” Dark said as loud as they could, letting their anger build up into a ball of red and blue magic forming around their clenched fist. “You’re coming with me, thief!” They raised their fist and launched the spell at the criminal, only for Wilford to take a nonchalant step to the side. The magic flew passed him and burned a hole in the tree a few feet behind him instead. Wilford turned to look at the smoldering tree.

“Good job with that one, you almost hit me that time!” He smiled and turned around, giving them a thumbs up.

“God DAMN IT!” Dark yelled in frustration, ignoring the pain yelling caused their throat. They knew they couldn’t waste anymore time trying to use magic they could barely control, so they picked up a rock instead. They chucked it at Wilford as hard as they could; in response the madman flicked the wand in his hand, opening another small portal in front of him. Dark barely had enough time to react when the other end appeared behind them, the rock beaning them in the back of the head.

Wilford began to space out as the other started screaming a string of obscenities at him. This felt familiar. He would end up in some new place, a new time, left with nothing to do but wander around looking for something that would clear the fog that clouded his mind. Nothing but a blur of abstract shapes and colors that almost became clear, but as soon as he reached out to touch them, they vanished. The only constant was the one person who always came back to try to put an end to the fun.

He stared at the ground for a moment, forgetting his train of thought completely as a small, blue beetle scurried across his shoe. He smiled at it, little things like this always cheered him up when he got lost in unpleasant memories, or lack thereof. “Hello there, little friend,” he cooed, bending down to pick up the beetle and holding it up to get a better look at the blue shine of its shell. He smiled, and tucked it into his pocket. “What was I doing? Ah yes, a party.”

Dark quit their frustrated yelling as soon he spoke again. “No!” they shouted. They stomped forward, trying to snatch the wand out of Will’s nimble hands. “Hand over that wand right now!”

Wilford held it above his head, just out of reach of the short detective. “But I still need it, the fun is only just beginning!” he giggled, twirling his wand to open yet another portal, this time resulting in several large multicolored streamers to rain down onto Dark’s head, leaving them momentarily stunned. Wilford leaned his arm on their shoulder as they tried to tear off the streamers, but they shoved him away violently and backed up.

“Enough of this nonsense, thief! Hand over the wand or I’ll-”

“Witch!”

The two wizards turned to face a young girl, pointing at them with a fearful and accusatory look. The town must have been closer than they’d thought. A couple more townsfolk stood behind her, mumbling and looking at the odd pair with frightened stares. Dark took a cautious step away, but Wilford stayed put.

“No, no, no, there’s been a misunderstanding!” Wilford said, pocketing the wand. “We’re not witches, we’re wizards. There’s a difference you see…”

“You’re not helping,” Dark spoke through gritted teeth, eyes darting between the small mob of angry townspeople that had gathered in front of them. They muttered amongst each other, and Dark was just barely able to pick up words like “witch” and “the devil”. Wilford turned to face the worried detective, confident smile never wavering.

“Don’t you worry, I’ll talk us out of this. Everything will be just fine.”

.

.

.

“Everything will be just fine,” Dark said in a sarcastic tone, struggling against the ropes that bound them to the stake, back to back with Wilford. The town had had a stake set up already for a previously scheduled burning, but had decided that the “devil and the witch” were more important targets. Wilford had tried to explain to them that he knew Satan and that he was neither of them, which only caused a shudder to run up Dark’s spine and did not help their situation at all.

“Well I thought they’d be more reasonable!” Wilford huffed. “Turns out there’s just no reasoning with people in Halloween costumes.” The criminal made no effort to get loose from the bonds. Dark continued their struggle, pulling at the ropes as hard as they could. At the very least they still had their cane with them, lying at their feet to burn with them.

“Can you please focus?! Can’t you open a portal and get us out of here?!” Dark exclaimed, panic growing as the town’s judge began to list off the charges.

“I can’t,” Wilford said, unphased by the growing severity of the situation.

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“What- you just summoned all that party crap back there!”

“It’s different. People portals are different than thing portals. I need more time to be able to open another one.”

“I hate that that makes sense…” Dark thrashed against the ropes, their struggle only getting more frantic as a few townsfolk near the front of the crowd began lighting torches.

“…and shall burn for their crimes,” finished the judge. He hadn’t been reading from an actual list, as they hadn’t taken the time to make one, but instead he’d been reading excerpts from the Bible and adding in some connecting wording of his own.

“Come on, hurry it up!” Dark hissed. They’d gotten their bindings loose just enough to try and unknot them, but there wouldn’t be enough time and they wouldn’t be able to simply run past the mob surrounding them.

“No need to be so impatient, work on getting these stupid bindings off first. Not that I’m not into it, but they’re so restrictive,” Warfstache said calmly while attempting to take a sip from the martini in his hands. He couldn’t quite reach it due to the ropes hindering his movement, and one of the more brave townsfolk snatched it out of his hand and smashed it onto the pire before jumping back. Wilford’s face fell in shock. “Hey, I was using that!”

They were out of time, the townsfolk bearing torches marched forward, lighting the pyre. The flames quickly grew, spreading closer to the two wizards. Dark’s breathing picked up as they peddled their feet, trying to move away from the  encroaching flames.

“No!” they screamed. A shockwave of energy flew out around them, knocking a few of the surrounding townsfolk back. They felt the ropes fall from their around them. They looked at their hands in shock, seeing a dissolving red mist fading around their fingertips.

“This has been a fun party, but you took my drink so we’re going to get going now!” Wilford shouted to the angry crowd. He grabbed Dark by the arm and lifted the wand, a firm smile on his face. “Time to go!” With a flick of his wrist, a portal opened below them.

Dark landed on the snowy forest floor with a dull thud, head spinning from the sudden teleportation. They only had a brief moment to rest before half of the stake they were just tied to fell through the portal. They rolled out of the way, narrowly dodging the heavy piece of wood as it crashed to the ground just before the portal closed. They stood up on shaking legs, brushing the dirt and ash off of their coat and quickly snatching up their cane where it had landed undamaged.

Wilford appeared next to them sporting a goofy smile, as if he hadn’t just made an escape from a fiery death. “Not my best escape, but that was fun! Hey, what was that thing you did back there? Normally you suck at magic!”

Dark shot him a dirty look. “Your coat is on fire.”

Wilford glanced down, unphased by the small flame gathering at the bottom of his trenchcoat. “Huh, it seems it is.”

Dark opened their mouth to retort, but was silenced by the growing volume of distant shouts. Through the trees, the could see a few far off figures, angry townsfolk who must have figured they’d escaped into the forest. They rustled around in their pockets, but it seemed they had lost their standard issue magic handcuffs in the scuffle, which would be a problem when Warfstache tried to escape. “Come on,” they grumbled. “We’re not out of the woods yet.”

“Well, yeah,” Wilford scoffed. “We are still in the woods.”

“That’s not what I-  whatever.” Not about to lose him now, they grabbed Wilford by the back of his coat. Dragging the thief behind them, they hurried as fast as they could deeper into the forest. It was a difficult to go very fast since Will refused to move faster than a walk, but they kept their fist clamped in place and soldiered onwards.

They could hear the people behind them. It sounded like they had sent out search parties, which meant they didn’t have very long.

“Ooh, search parties! Gosh, I just love me a party! A shame they don’t have any silvery light balls,” Wilford mused.

“Yeah yeah, just stay right there and don’t you dare move,” Dark ordered, letting go of Wilford temporarily. They needed to focus to get the spell right, and their window of escape was closing fast.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Wilford said, already walking in a circle.

Dark shot him a dirty look before turning their concentration elsewhere. They pushed back one of the sleeves of their trench coat to reveal the old silver watch they wore. Holding their other hand over it, they recalled the special communicator spell Jameson had taught them when they first started travelling through time. They gritted their teeth as the face of the watch started to flash between hues of red and blue, finally settling on a dark shade of blue.

“JJ, I need extraction right now. There was a run in with some of the locals, they’re hostile. I have Warfstache with me- hey! I told you not to move!” They took their eyes off the glowing watch to see Wilford slowly making his way away from them. “Open the portal to 6:42.”

With those final words, the light flickered away. Dark exhaled, unaware they had been holding their breath.

“Well that was anticlimactic. I was expecting something, you know, more exciting, instead of just a simple communication spell. I’m disappointed in you, Dark.” Wilford gave a little “tut tut” and shook his head, patting the top of Dark’s hair in a sort of classic disappointed father way. Dark reeled back and slapped his hand away, glaring at him in frustrated anger. They could hear the townspeople growing closer.

Dark heard the muffled sound of dozens upon dozens of clocks chiming all at once just before a blue and gold portal opened up a few feet away. They straightened up, sliding their sleeve back over their wristwatch before turning to face the criminal.

“Alright, Warfstache, go through the portal now, and no funny business,” Dark said, using their cane to gesture him towards it. They were so tense, they could feel their body shaking. They were this close to finally bringing in the criminal they’d been hunting for forever now. This close.

“Aww, what’s the fun in that? But alright, if you insist!” And before they could blink, Warfstache had fallen through a bubbly portal that closed up behind him.

Dark stood there, stunned, for approximately two seconds before letting out an ear shattering scream.

“FUUUUUUCKKKK!!! GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!!!” they shouted, grabbing a rock and throwing it against a tree in anger.They had him! They had him right there and he just slipped through their fingers! They continued to yell obscenities as they stomped through the portal and back into JJ’s office. “FUCK,” they yelled again as they collapsed into the pile of pillows on the faded couch, voice quickly devolving into a coughing fit.

Jameson simply looked on in quiet understanding. This had happened so many times he could barely keep track. Every week or so they would go out to catch Warfstache, only to return more frustrated than the last time. With every passing day their hopes of catching the criminal dwindled. Soon Dark’s coughing subsided and they rose from the couch, clearing their throat.

“I’ll go make my report to Abe, tell him I lost him again. I’ll be back as soon as I find another lead,” they grumbled hoarsely. And with that, they turned on their heel and left the room, coat trailing behind them. Even after all this time, they were still determined to find Warfstache. They would not rest until they brought him to justice, no matter how long it took.

[plaguedparadox]

Whispers in the Dark - Chapter Twenty

Back Home

Nausea was what woke me up, the feeling of needing to vomit compelled me to sprint out of bed and into the nearest room with a toilet so I could empty my stomach. An ugly sounding groan left my lips as I tried to clean the flavour from my mouth, the acidic burning causing me to wince slightly as I took a few deep breaths. I was mildly coughing by the time I turned to leave the room only to jump in shock due to Dark standing in the doorway looking worried. “What are you doing there, Stormy? You need rest.” I say before wrapping my arms gently around his torso, trying to avoid accidentally injuring his most likely heavily bruised stomach.

“I heard you throwing up, you okay?” He muttered out, his head almost immediately burying into the crook of my neck as he spoke, his voice almost completely like the man I fell in love with all those years ago but the echo was still there. Dark’s arms wrapped tightly around me, holding me close as if he was still trying to process the fact that we were together once again. I tell him that I was fine, that I most likely just had a stomach bug but I was still fine all the same. “Let’s get back to bed…” Slowly the demon walked backwards, guiding me gently back to Damien’s bed. I quickly found my place beside the man as I was practically curled against him while my head rested on top of his chest as if I was trying to listen to his nonexistent heartbeat. I let out a happy sigh and snuggle further into the man’s chest, the smell of expensive cologne was faded but still there, still the same scent that I expected my beloved demon to have. “You are my Sunshine…” Dark started to sing out a familiar song which brought memories of my time in a coma to thought.

The room was suddenly coated in shadows but I wasn’t worried, this was Dark’s doing after all. “My only Sunshine…” His voice continued, making me slowly connect the dots. Delicate shades of blue and red danced about, as if they were putting on a show before they slowed down and spread out like a galaxy in front of me. The small lights seemed to sparkle as they tried to not be consumed by the shadows.  “You make me happy, when skies are grey... “ The demon nuzzled his nose against the top of my head, a soft and peaceful smile on his face. The blue shade that was correlated with Damien seemed to radiate off of the man strongly as I noticed his hair to be more slicked back than normal. Safe to say that Dark was a very beautiful man. “You’ll never know, Dear, how much I love you… So please don’t take my Sunshine away.” He finished the small portion of the song, pulling me into a gentle kiss.

When he pulled away the shadows and shades of colour that were once depicting a galaxy faded back into him and the room was filled with the morning’s light. The soft lighting matching the mood of the room perfectly as it reflected off the fallen angel in such a wonderful way. Crimson invaded my cheeks as I tried to process Dark’s subtle confession that was combined with the delicate look on his face. Of course, as life with the egos went, nothing stayed peaceful forever.

“DARK!!!” Wilford’s panicked voice filled air as the slamming of doors sounded out. The demon who’s name was just called out groaned to himself as he turned to bury his head in the soft white pillows, cursing Wilford’s name for destroying the moment. With each new slam of a door, Wilford shouting out the monochromatic man’s name and occasionally another voice telling the madman off which was evident by their scolding tone. “DARK! Oh, you’re here.” Was all that he said when he entered the room that the demon was actually in. “And Gumdrop is here too! Oh! Is this a slumber party?! I want to join!” The reporter beamed before he jumped onto the bed next to me, suddenly in his sleepwear of a yellow top and striped pink bottoms. I bounced a small bit before Dark wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest, his shadows holding him down to the bed so his wounds weren’t agitated. A giggle slipped out of me as the madman fluttered gentle kisses across my cheeks, nose and forehead as he rambled on about how much he missed me and a few teasing words directed towards the man that held me close.

I wrap my arms around Wilford and give him a tight hug despite Dark’s small whines for attention which made my heart flutter. “Missed ya, Colonel.” I muttered out, a squeak soon followed as I was crushed into a tight hug as the pastel dressed man began to sob. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you that!” I cry out as I tried to comfort the man only for his happy laughter to cut me off.  

The man nuzzled me a small bit before pulling away and sitting up onto his calves. “It’s okay, old chap! Really! I just… I missed you calling me that.” He admitted, pulling me up so I sat between him and a still laying Dark. My gaze fell on my love to find him smiling back up at me which made my own smile appear. “Things are going to get better from here, right? Now that he’s under control?” The moustached man asked softly, pulling me into a tight hug as he rocked us back and forth slightly. Dark shifted behind me for a moment before swallowing both Will and me into hug.

“Hopefully.” Is all the demon said on that as our hug became tighter, both men seemingly avoiding wrapping their arms around my midsection, the heat from one man and the cold from the other radiated through me and started to lull me back to sleep.

The feeling of arms wrapped gently around me before I had a chance to even open my eyes, the person’s warmth radiating across my back. A gentle and familiar warmth. I open my eyes to see the rich blue sky of the meadow above me, small hints of red in my peripheral line drew my attention over to the red flowers that had been dotted around. “I missed you.” His voice muttered softly in my ear before he nuzzled against the nape of my neck, his breath tickling it gently. My love’s usually greased back hair was now a seemingly wavy mess, similar to how he had it when we were at University together. I murmur that I missed him too before turning around to face Damien properly only for my face to twist in confusion as I noticed what seemed to be eyeliner and an odd darkness under his eyes which contrasted with his now paler skin. I ask him if he’s okay, my hand brushing across his cheek but all he did was lean into it.

“He’s fine. Just getting used to the fact that him and Dark are practically the same person now, I reckon. Seeing as he has almost all the influence over the demon now that his soul has been put back together. Though not without cracks, but I’m sure you know all too well about that.” The Seer’s voice calmly spoke out as she paced closer, a small smile painted on her lips as she enveloped me into a hug. “It’s so nice to finally see you face to face again, so much better than being orb to face. To think when we were last face to face I couldn’t care less about you… If only my brother had explained his feelings for you then maybe my full self would’ve seen your worth.” Celine lamented, reminding me that the Celine I had come to know was only the good side of the Seer and the original Seer was fine throwing my life away.

Damien scoffed lightly, pulling me away from his sister and further into his own embrace. “Well, sorry if I didn’t bother to explain who I was in love with to a sister that had made sure I couldn’t contact her!” His grip tightened around my arms as his anger grew. I mutter his nickname softly and drag his attention back over to me. “Sorry, Sunshine…” He whispered as he began nuzzling gently into my hair, something about his actions made it seem as if he was afraid to touch me. “Sister, are you sure that your husband is fully dealt with?” My love asked firmly, one of his hands holding my head to his chest, letting me listen to the sound of his faint heartbeat. The Seer scolded Damien, reminding him that the Actor was her ex, divorced or not.

A moment went by, Celine obviously visiting the waking world to check up on the egos. “Fairly sure, Mark’s aura is completely different from before… It’s very possible that this Mark truly isn’t our Mark, possibly a bit like our situation where the good parts of him spilt from the bad. Which means the Mark we need to worry about most likely fled back into your body. Only joining with his good self for personal gain.” Damien questioned about the fight in the manor, Dark was sure that Mark was using Damien’s body in that moment but his questioning was interrupted by Celine shaking her head. “I fear he’s realised that it would be incredibly easy for you to get your body back if he was to take it back to the manor.” She sighed and looked away for a moment before her attention was back to us, or rather back to Damien as her face distorts with concern.“The doctors said they’re fine, Damien, stop worrying. You’ll make yourself sick.” Her scolding voice sounded out as my face lifted up to look at her brother, he was looking away with worry etched deeply onto his pale face.

The meadow became silent for a while as the siblings seemed to bicker back and forth with their facial expressions, Damien keeping me pinned lightly to him as they did. Eventually, Damien’s grip on me slowly slipped and allowed me to move away from him, the warmth he gave me almost immediately fled from my body and caused me to shake at the sudden chill as my body complained at me to move back towards the Mayor. I slowly wandered away from the pair, allowing them to speak openly as it was clear that there was something they didn’t want me to know.

The forest surrounding the meadow was dense and seemed to be covered in a thin layer of dew that flicked off of plants and coated me as I made my way further and further in. As my feet carried me I noticed the blue of my surroundings slowly dulling into shades of grey, I brought myself to a stop at the edge of the forest, staring at the void that seemed to be trying to break its way through indicated by a large opening that was suspended in the air. “Dark?” I call out softly, wondering if the demon had fallen asleep or was still speaking to Wilford. My call was replied to with thin, long tendrils that slithered their way through the air and wrapped themselves around my arm which I stretched out, their movements tickled my skin and caused me to giggle at the sensation.

“What are you doing so far away from the meadow, my dear?” Dark’s voice spoke out, echoing from the void as more of the tendrils wrapped around me, pulling me closer to the dark opening. Dark’s face appearing out of the thick smoke that seeped out of the hole. “Now, you really should head back to the Mayor, but I can’t help but be selfish, even if it is against myself.” He chuckled and slowly stepped out of the opening and straight in front of me, his arms gently wrapping around my waist and pulling me into his cool embrace. The warm smile on his face blew my breath away. Celine wasn’t kidding when she said that him and Damien are basically the same person now. My hand brushed his cheek gently, his grey skin darkening at the gesture. “I think it’s best you wake up, the doctors want to check over you.” I give him a small nod before letting myself fall into consciousness.

The bright lights of the makeshift clinic caused me to wince uncomfortably as my sleepy eyes suffered, I gazed around to see Henrik and Dr Iplier muttering amongst themselves while Dark was busy holding my hand, his thumb gently stroking the back of it. “Did they already check me over or something?” I mumble out only to be told that some checks were done but they still needed to speak to me. The questions were rather basic, ranging from how I felt at the moment to if I had been experiencing anything that could be considered troubling but my throwing up, which I had mentioned earlier in the questioning was brushed off. Dark didn’t even seem phased about that, instead only having something to say when Iplier said something out of line or scared me when his famous line accidentally slipped out. He couldn’t apologise enough - especially when Dark’s shadows appeared.

Once given the all clear, Dark lead me out of the room, out of the manor and into Damien’s garden that Bim had apparently taken to looking after while I was gone. I look down to where Dark and I were joined, my arm wrapped around his. The garden, even back then, was something Damien was proud of. Pure white roses and delicate blue forget me nots were a typical sight amongst the deep greens of the various bushes and small trees that he would tend to. It took a while to bring the old garden back to its original beauty but it seemed as it was more than just me that wanted to keep the place thriving. “I’m glad you decided to bring this place back, it took long enough to grow those flowers for you to begin with…” Dark muttered, his voice becoming lighter as his arm slipped from mine as he approached some forget me nots and bending down, picking some and slowly weaving them together, forming a blue circlet with the flowers.

It took a few moments before the demon made his way back over to me, gently placing the circlet on my head. The dork had made me a flower crown. My cheeks reddened slightly as a large grin crossed my face, thanking the man without having to say a word as I brought him into a tight hug. A vague memory of catching Damien reading a book on the language of flowers crossing my mind as I look up at the flustered demon. His cheeks dark grey while his eyes seemed to be a glowing blue. A giggle leaves my lips as I tiptoe and place a small peck on his cool grey lips, my grin widening as his blush darkened more. “I love you, Dark.” I announce, nuzzling my head into his chest, enjoying the cool breeze brush past us as the smell of the garden flowers filled the air, the scent being dragged around by the wind like paint on a canvas. I quickly look back up at the man to see him as an almost entirely blushing mess, his voice barely able to stutter out that he loves me too.  

A loud awe noise broke through the moment, snapping our attention to the pastel dressed man that was busy squealing and crushing a struggling King into an unwanted hug as his attention was fixed onto us. The poor squirrel ruler was wiggling to escape his arm prison but Wilford was just too strong as he cheered on our confessions. “Really, Warfstache?!” Dark exclaimed before storming over and freeing the king and watching the crowned man scurry off into the treeline. “I can’t have a moment's peace with you around, now can I?” His arms crossed, making the muscular arms concealed under his rather tight white shirt move and bulge, catching my attention rather well. My eyes scanned across the demon’s form, a scarlet tint coating my cheeks in a not-so-innocent way. A giggle left my throat as I watched Wilford tease a blushing Dark while the flushed man was scolding.

“You certainly know how to pick them, lass.” The calm Irish voice stopped me from jumping in shock as I turned to look up at my best friend. I greet Sean with a huge hug before he sits next to me. “I still can’t believe all of this. I mean… It seems rather impossible. But, the big thing is that you’re home and you’re okay. I have to ask though, are you happy? With Dark, I mean.” I nod along and tell Sean I’m happy with Dark. Truly happy. “Good, but if I hear he’s hurt you or tricked you or something like that then I’ll kick his arse. I’m sure the rest of my egos would happily do the same.” Sean beams at me, pulling me into a side hug as we watched the two Iplier egos in front of us. A moment later and my huge fluffy blanket is draped around us. “Oh look, the glitch decided to show up.” Sean joked as as Anti appeared next to us.

Anti rolled his eyes at Sean’s joke and pulled me into a gentle hug, his arms barely wrapped around my side.  “Oh, hush, will ya?” The green-hued man hissed out, his head laying between my shoulder and my neck. My arms wrapped around the glitch happily, returning the hug. “How ya feeling, lass?” He asked softly.

I shrugged, a smile never leaving my face. “I feel pretty good apart from the vomiting but I’ve been told it’s nothing to worry about and well… None of my symptoms are too worrying. I mean I could just be throwing up from eating something weird or the fact I’m overly stressed. Dark doesn’t seem to be freaking out over it. And neither are the doctors.” I explained as I looked back over to what seemed to be Dark trying not to kill Wilford as the madman pulled at the demon’s cheeks. Bad move, Will. My thoughts cringed as Dark slapped Wil upside the head and stormed back over to where I was, only to stop and stare at the Septics that seemed to gather around me. He looks at me questioningly, to which I just shrug and open my arms to him. The monochromatic man was quick to sit by my feet and let me wrap my arms around his neck.

It had been a long time since I felt as peaceful as I did in that moment, surrounded by the people I loved as we enjoyed each other’s company. Stories, jokes and laughter being shared between us. Hopefully, today was the start of a fairly peaceful future. I barely noticed so much time had passed until Dark was pulling me inside and into the kitchen. Before I could ask what he was doing, he started to rummage through the fridge and began to pull things out. He was making me dinner. I was surprised he didn’t just make it appear like he did on our date. “Forever means nothing without you, I hope you know that, Sunshine.” Dark smiles my way before turning his attention to the oven. “Now, how do I do this again?” Oh dear lord.

TAGLIST: @2s0uls @crystalsnowygem @thuutthuutbilly

[xshatteredreflectionsx]

@rosetintedgunman

*pauses the current timeline so I can get up for some chips & salsa*

[xshatteredreflectionsx]

When Morgan steps into their room, they can suddenly see why they were having a case of "empty cupboard syndrome" in the kitchen.

Every single mug, glass, plate, bowl, and piece of crockery have been placed on the floor in Morgan's bedroom, leaving only a narrow clean path from the door to the bed. There's only one person stupid enough to go to this extreme... (it's Wilford. rosetintedgunman)

@rosetintedgunman

The perpetrator, who probably thought he was sooooooo clever, had the common decency to put things down in a way that could almost be considered organized- in that there was a clear footpath. More importantly, Morgan could see every novelty mug from their collection. They would eventually get over the disappointment if World's Okayest Sorcerer ever went missing, and maybe Inigo Montoya; but the set of mugs Mark had given them? Cyberbullying the Mayor?? There would have been hell to pay. You did not mess with a coffee addict's mug collection.

But no damage had been done, so crises averted. Morgan carefully picked over the plastic cups and bowls, paused to look at the pyramid of forks that had been left on their desk, before shaking their head and picking up Cyberbullying the Mayor from where it had been hung on their bedpost. They grabbed a plate from the pillow and carefully pulled a fork out of the Fork Pyramid (It still stayed up) before tip-toing back out of the room. Cleaning the mess could wait until after coffee and food.

[lostcybertronian]

16 with Wilford and dark??

Wow. This one just. Wow.

Also, I got three of the same ones, so I’m combining them into one.

Warnings for gore, blood, implied gun violence, nightmares, death, and extreme angst.

Tags: @caffeine-eater @authorsathenaeum @tiny-yan-an @darkstache-iplier @redraspberrycats @holyshitsnakesandspace @blue-greenstylinson @cookieface678 @bing-iplier @storm337

Prompt 16: “I never meant to hurt you.”

    The hallway was gloomy and quiet, most of the egos having long since retired. It was for the best, really, considering it was well past midnight.

    But Dark paid little attention to the time. No shadows followed his flickering form as he prowled the hallways, too restless to read and too restless to sit at his desk and work.

    He saw them. Everywhere.

    The Detective stumbled behind, blood gushing freely down his chest, soaking the clothes he died in. With pale, trembling fingers he reached out to paw at Dark’s shoulder.

    But when Dark twisted to look behind him, there was no one. Only endless hallway, stretching out with no discernible end. He stopped checking.

    Damien and Celine he could just barely see out of the corner of his eye: rippling echoes of neon red and cyan blue. He wasn’t able to make them out clearly, wasn’t able to pick out the words they screamed at each other.

    Pain clawed at his insides and rattled around his splintered bones as he quickened his pace, adjusted his suit, eager to escape these figments of his past.

    “I never meant to hurt you!” He winced as those words reverberated through his skull, stopped as he recognized the voice.

    He turned to see the door to the recording studio. Above the door, the “On Air” sign sputtered from green to red to blue to a bright, fluorescent pink before going dark.

    “I never meant to hurt you.” The voice came from behind the door.

    Desperation- to reach the voice, to leave behind these long-dead figures- seizing him, Dark grabbed at the doorknob, fumbling to turn it and throw open the door.

—

    Inside was dark. But dark he was familiar with. The dark he could handle.

    What set him on edge was the stickiness beneath his shoes, was the sickening stench of blood hanging in the air, was the frantic sobbing he could hear coming from further within.

    “I- I never meant to hurt you!” Over and over again.

    I never meant to hurt you.

    The lights snapped on suddenly, blinding white lights that hurt Dark’s eyes. He squinted against the glare, lifting a hand to shield his eyes.

    “I never meant to hurt you!” There was blood everywhere, spattering and staining every surface, tarnishing the surface of the silver-handled gun that lay, discarded, on the tile.

    “Wil!” Dark finally found his voice when he spotted the madman, kneeling in a pool of blood with his back to Dark. In each hand he clutched two pale, limp ones, and he held them to his face, sobbed into them.

“Wil! What’re you doing? We need to call Bim so he can get this mess cleaned up-” Dark advanced, reaching out to touch Wilford’s shoulder, to snap him out of his stupor. But he stopped short when the two corpses on the floor came into full view.

    Damien’s limbs were twisted at awkward angles, and blood soaked through the rumpled fabric of his suit. His mouth gaped open in a silent scream and his blue eyes stared at nothing.

    Celine wore two smiles: the first curled her mouth into a frozen grimace, and the second spread wide across her throat, the white skin painted as red as her lips.

    “I never meant to hurt you.” Wilford rocked back and forth, his eyes wide, glazed as Damien’s. He didn’t seem to notice Dark standing over him. “I never meant to hurt you.”

    “I never meant to hurt you.” Over and over and over again. Like a mantra. He wouldn’t stop.

“Wilford!” The words filled Dark’s head and his shell cracked, sucking the yellow from Wilford’s shirt, the blood from Celine’s blouse, the blue from Damien’s eyes.

    I never meant to hurt you.

    I never meant to hurt you.

    I never meant to hurt-

—

    “I never meant to hurt you-” Dark startled awake at the hand on his shoulder, immediately growled as pain crawled down his spine. He tried to move. Tried to lift his head from his desk. Failed at accomplishing such a simple task.

    “Never meant t’hurt who now?” Wilford stared down at him. His voice was curious, tinged with concern. Nothing like the frenzied one in his head.

    Dark grunted. “Nothing.”

    “Oh good!” Wilford lit up. “Cause I was wondering if …”

    Dark groaned again as he babbled about whatever project he and that idiot Bim Trimmer were so eager to undertake now.

    But when he didn’t reply, Wilford trailed off. He squeezed Dark’s shoulder. “Y’alright, Darkie?”

    “Can you take me to bed?” Dark hated how small he sounded. How weak. How pathetic.

    Hated how much that dream had shaken him.

    I never meant to hurt you. Those words echoed around his head.

    “Uh, yeah, sure. You sure you’re alright?” Dark gave a low hiss as Wilford helped him sit up and back in his chair.

    “Fine,” he managed to mutter, and let Wilford slip his arms under him, allowed him to hoist him into his arms.

    “Okay! Cause Me n’ Bim wanted to …” Wilford started chattering again as he carried Dark from his office.

    He didn’t seem to notice when Dark passed out, head lolling against his chest.

[rosetintedgunman]

a mix of 1, 7, and 20 ( for the hug meme ) if that's alright 👀 ( for abe :] )

Send a number, get a hug! (Accepting!)

1: a hug with a forehead kiss 7: a hug where one muse picks the other up 20: an overjoyed hug

-

No warnings! It's just a little long.

-

The Midnight Rolling was abuzz with activity. The regular patrons were dancing in full swing, the popular band was playing some well-known tunes, and all was right in the world... Except for one little thing.

Wilford sat by the bar, nursing a large glass of water. He didn't feel like anything fancy. The rainbow straw that slowly stirred the liquid did nothing to lift his mood. Even his moustache was droopier than usual.

Abe had been assigned to a top-secret job that had him out of town. It had been fine for the first few days, but it had been nearly a month! A month!

(Wilford had been marking the days off on a calendar so he knew he didn't fall out of time.)

Keeping track of the days only made the loneliness more apparent. He missed Abe more than he could than he could possibly say. The days were slow and boring. What happened to the fun of checking in on Abe, or taking him out to practice roller skating? What about the many cups of coffee he had made out of habit, only to realise too late that there wasn't anyone around to drink it. He wanted to hear Abe talk in-depth about his latest case, or his experiences in clown college, or even express disappointment in a cheesy joke.

Wilford was just a rainbow splattered on a white sheet of paper without Abe. The picture couldn't be complete without him, not anymore.

The staff behind the bar had noticed their manager was down in the dumps and had taken to gradually decorating his glass. The entire rim had bright paper umbrellas poking out of it, and some spare ribbon was tied around it. It didn't solve the problem, but it did bring a smile to Wilford's face. He was certainly a grateful man for being surrounded by such nice people.

"Excuse me, sir?" One of the barkeepers tapped him on the shoulder, pulling him out of his daze. "There looks to be a little trouble by the front door." Wilford turned and squinted in that general direction. He didn't see anything beyond the familiar door-shaped blur. But he trusted his team, and he pulled himself onto his feet with a half-hearted shrug. A hand blindly reached for his glass, only to discover it had disappeared. Huh. Weird. No matter. It was better to trudge over, check the problem, and then return to his seat. Easy-peasy.

"Hey. This is a quiet place. Best not ta have sorta problems startin' out here." It was a familiar warning he gave to potential trouble-makers, but it was far more lackluster than usual. He stepped outside, only to receive a light punch in the arm.

"What can I say? I've got a terrible, trouble-making influence." There, hidden just to the right of the main entrance, looking a little beat-up, was Abe. There was a sly grin on his face that only lasted a few seconds before he was suddenly plucked off his feet.

"Abe!! Yer back! Ya actually came back!!" The madman held him close, mindful not to squeeze Abe too tightly - one never knew what injuries lay hiding. After a moment, the hug loosened as Wilford lowered Abe back to the ground. "Ya... Came back. I would've thought y'd love th' chance ta leave..."

"Leave?" Abe repeated with a hint of a frown.

"Yeah. Ya always said this place would've turned yer hair grey if ya hadn't lost it already. Somewhere new an' excitin'... Wasn't that whatcha wanted?"

Abe gestured for Wilford to crouch down. When he did, Abe placed a kiss on Wilford's forehead. "It's in my nature to be stressed. My cases are serious stuff. It doesn't mean I'm going to up and leave when I'm asked to help with something out of town. Besides," another kiss to the forehead was given for good measure, "I can't really be happy in a new place when everything I've grown to care about is here, can I?"

It might have been a corny phrase, but it was the perfect response. A goofy grin was quick to plaster itself on Wilford's face before he kissed the detective and yanked him back inside.

And, just like the rainbow needing the blue sky to be complete, the overly-decorated glass of water was accompanied by a tumbler of whiskey when they arrived at the bar.

[xshatteredreflectionsx]

@rosetintedgunman

[whovianofmidgard]

Familiar Wounds

Notes: Thanks @auraphantom for the title suggestion, ya saved me hours of thinking and staring into the void This is angst with some hurt/comfort sprinkled in

 Dark has seen a fair amount of corpses throughout the years. Some his own doing, a few from the various other egos, and most of them were one Wilford Warfstache's mad handiwork. It was nothing really, most of them didn't even bat an eye when a dead body turned up, and aside from a stern scolding the issue was quickly forgotten.

However, some causes of death were a little too familiar for the demon's comfort. A gaping bullet wound would make Dark frown and turn away. A mangled body from a significant fall would leave his aura frizzled and a twinge of uneasiness in his gut. He always shoved those thoughts aside and angrily marched off, leaving the dirty work to someone else.

One incident came unexpected though.

Dark and Wilford were out finishing some pesky unanticipated job quite literally. The pair stood on a balcony, the eccentric pink man proudly brandishing his gun as his demonic partner held a squirming man by the collar, the victim's upper body dangerously pushed over the railing in threat.

"I've had enough. You are just a waste of our time." Dark sound almost bored as he addressed the man struggling in his hand. "Wil, take care of him quick. We're finished here."

Wilford's eyes lit up with crazy glee and with a grin he aimed. "Well if you say so... Bang!"

The actual 'bang' followed a fraction of a second later. Dark felt the body grow heavy in his hand as it went limp and he let go of the weight. The pair watched it fall over the balcony and impact with an unpleasant sound. The bullet to the chest was not the only place it was bleeding from now.

"I say, that's a nasty fall." Wil looked over the railing as he aloofly pocketed his gun. He then spun away from the sight and reached a hand for Dark to take.

"Oh well, he'll just have to walk it off. Isn't that right Darky?" His other hand fiddled with a strap of his pink suspenders.

Dark didn't respond. He was still looking at the corpse below, broken and bloody and unmoving. He stared, and he stared...and stared.

The demon was unable to pull his eyes away from it. 'Too familiar' his mind raced. The sight was awfully familiar...and somewhere along the way Dark got lost.

He was the District Attorney, his body screaming in pain, his bones aching and broken, the old bullet wound distracting. Dark idly placed a hand where he felt the phantom pain in his chest and silently mouthed a small 'ouch'.

He was the Mayor, struck with grief to see his most trusted friend go in such a horrid way.

He was the Seer, heartbroken that it was Wil...

Wilford didn't understand what was going on. He cocked an eye at Dark's unmoving form, pink moustache twitching as he pulled a face in confusion. All he saw was the grey ego's glazed over eyes staring down at the body and his red and blue colors retracted so close to Dark they were merely a thin outline around him. The ever present shadow around him clung close to his form and seemed to dense. Wil wondered if the darkness would grow thick enough to be impenetrable like a wall.

"Dark? You okay?" the crazed man asked. He took a tentative step closer to his partner and when no answer came he grew worried.

"What happened, did I do something wrong?"

No response.

Wilford placed a hand on Dark's shoulder. He noted that his arm passed through the shadowy aura without any resistance. "Darky, you told me to do it so what's wrong?"

The pink man tried gently calling out to his demon until he grew frustrated. "Snap out of it, goddammit, or I'll slap you back to me!"

Wil huffed annoyed but didn't go through with his threat. His hands were now squeezing Dark's fingers as the madman slowly grew frantic with his pleading, not knowing what to do.

"Darky please, baby Darkling, why are you doing this? Dark. DARK! DAAAARK!!!"

Dark startled at the shout, his aura bursting out wildly for a short moment before retreating back into its small protective cocoon state. He looked at Wilford with a dazed expression, barely managing to gasp out a tiny "wha...?"

A small relief washed over Wilford and he sighed. "You with me, Dark?"

The broken ego blinked, trying and failing to get out of his mind set.

"...yes," he answered regardless.

"Are you okay?" It took a while for Dark to process the question. Wil waited patiently for him to collect his thoughts, thumbs gently rubbing Dark's hands.

"I'm...fine," he lied.

Wilford didn't pry any further and gave a firm nod. "We're going home." With that he pulled his dazed demon close and warped themselves into Dark's room with a flourish of pink smoke, the faint scent of cotton candy and a small pop.

Wil led Dark to his bed and made him sit. The grey ego was still out of it, his gaze switching between staring off to see something only he could and fixating on Wil, who had helped loosen his tie and shake off his suit jacket and was now sitting by his side.

Dark slumped into Wilford's side, burying his face in the other's shoulder, and took a deep and heavy breath.

"I'm...not fine." he admitted. His voice was half swallowed in Wil's yellow shirt.

"Awww, Darky. Can I somehow help?"

Dark thought about it. "I don't think so. Just don't go anywhere."

Wil hugged him and placed a quick kiss onto the crown of black hair. The pink ego didn't go anywhere.

[theashofwkm]

Collapse (Shattered Pt. 2)

You hear a distorted popping noise following Wilford’s snap as he transports you out of that wretched manor and into a room you don’t recognize.

What just happened? Where were you?

Your stomach feels funny and you keel over a bit, hands on your knees, your head spinning.

You take a deep breath and the world slows to a stop.

You straighten yourself out and begin to curiously survey the room you’re now in.

The room’s full of vibrant colors, mainly pink and yellow, reminding you of the Colonel’s shirt and hair. You think offhandedly that this must be his room, and you fear for a minute that you’re still in the manor- that he’s just redone his room - so you rush to the window, forgetting about the teleportation for a moment as you stumble over your own feet to reach the window and let out a deep sigh of relief when you don’t recognize the outside landscape.

Your form sags against the window, the glass icy against your forehead.

You’re not in the manor. You’re ok.

You turn back around towards the Colonel.

He strides forward to hug you again. You hug him back, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Dark told me I wouldn’t see you again,” he mutters in your ear, totally and utterly relaxed and happy before he suddenly tenses up.

He backs away from you slowly.

“Dark told me I wouldn’t see you,” he says again, a hauntingly familiar horrified expression beginning to take hold of his features.

“Who’s Dark?” You whisper, matching his quiet tone.

“But Dark doesn’t lie. Not to me.”

The Colonel speaks quietly, horrified at this revelation, his words getting louder the more he speaks.

“Dark doesn’t lie to me. He hasn’t! He would never. I-I’m his friend. His-his colleague. He wouldn’t lie t-to me. We’re partners!”

He’s shouting now, reminding you so much of the last time that you saw him. Frantic and confused.

Your feet are bolted to the floor, and you realize you are still what you were in the mirror.

A helpless bystander.

You don’t know how to calm him, you’re afraid of making it worse so you just watch silently, your heart twisted in knots.

“This is another joke, isn’t it? You’re not really here, Dark is just messing with me, isn’t he?”

Tears slip down your cheeks as the mindless man discovers a way to lose it a second time.

“What a wonderful joke!”

His hands are gripping his hair, tugging harshly at it as he talks to himself, tears running down his cheeks. Your stomach drops to your feet as you hear the familiar words.

“Splendid job! You really had me going there!”

He’s backed himself into a corner, a manic grin on his face.

“What a wonderful-“ He cuts himself off by his laughing, deep and throaty and genuine.

Your heart follows your stomach, the scene before you all-too-familiar.

He pulls his gun out -a part of you notices that it’s the same one he shot you with- and you fall backwards a step automatically at the sight of the deadly weapon.

“-wonderful joke. It’s a wonderful joke.” His words are almost indecipherable as his laughs cut in every now and then.

One of his hands tangles itself in his bright hair, the other clutching the gun.

“What are you? You look just like y/n did, how did Dark find you? Did Google make you?” He’s talking loudly, grinning and laughing and crying.

The hand with the gun lifts the cold metal muzzle towards you.

You stumble back another step, remembering when he shot you before and what the consequences of that was.

But you’re still unable to leave, your feet are still stuck in place and your eyes are glued to the madman in the corner with a gun.

“Who’s all in on this? Is Host? Google? Of course they are, everyone knows! It’s a joke! You’re a joke, Damien didn’t lie to me, we’re best friends, he wouldn’t!”

You take another step back before turning on your heel and fleeing out the door, scared of getting shot again.

The wrecked man’s laughter follows you down the hall.

———————

Tag List:

@pleaseletthisjimbetaken @intj-boredandready @electricprincess888 @justwritingscibbles @gerardwayslips @superawesomeamazingname @mackenziplier

Here’s part 2, I hope you all like it! Let me know what you thought, I love hearing from you guys.

This was a lot of fun to make. especially Wilford’s breakdown

This part was written so fast because of all the likes and reblogs and comments the first part got, so if you all do that again then you’ll get the next part sooner.

(Message me or leave a comment if you want to be added to the tag list, or if I didn’t add you here, I feel like I forgot someone)

[iamvegorott]

Attention

I asked for some ideas and @flaming-pancakes-4819 suggested a soulmate AU and @carmenthefoxy13 wanted me to try some Darkstache, so, I combined the two! I hope you enjoy!

Summary: With a mark and a phrase, Dark learns that not everything will go his way. 

Attention 

Dark never understood the whole ‘soulmate’ obsession that everyone had. They were all over static for their birthmark to start ‘tingling’ as others have explained it. All it took was a certain phrase said by the soulmate in order to make it work. Sometimes it was someone they’ve known their whole life, sometimes it’s someone they’ve just met. Dark always found the idea of having a ‘soulmate’ of having a ‘one and only’ to be absolutely ridiculous. He also found the fact that he, a demon from another dimension, has one of those marks on the lower part of his wrist to be even more ridiculous. Why would he even need one? Why would he want someone to get in his way? To have the emotion of ‘love’ to get in his way as well. He did not have time for that. He had better things to do. He had people to bribe, to manipulate and to torture. He only had time to get back at Mark and right now he was at a park looking for his next victim, someone has been claiming to know everything about Mark and Dark wanted to learn if it was true.

“Dark! Dark, ol’ pal, where are ya!?” A familiar voice calling for him snapped Dark out of his thoughts, pulling his sleeve back down to cover his ‘w’ shaped birthmark.

“Hello, Wilford.” Dark greeted the pink madman as he ran over to him.

“There’s my devilishly handsome demon!” Wilford chuckled as he threw himself on the bench Dark was sitting on.

“Please try not to call attention to us at the moment,” Dark stated, speaking softly and not looking at the other man.

“Why not? Having attention is fun.” Wilford poked at Dark’s side, pouting when he didn’t get a reaction.

“I do not understand the need for attention, but I do understand that you like it. At the moment I am waiting for a man to appear and I need to have a few words with him and after that is through, you can continue your attention seeking.”

“I’m not always seeking attention.” Wilford attempted to pout, but the look Dark gave him made the man laugh. “Alright, I’ll admit to seeking some attention from my friend every now and again.”

“Every now and again?” Dark raised a brow, finally facing Wilford fully.

“Sometimes.” Wilford shrugged, laughing again when Dark only hummed in response. “Fine!” Wilford leaned over and wrapped his arms around Dark’s shoulders. “I always want my little demon’s attention!” Dark was going to roll his eyes but noticed that his wrist itched.

“That’s annoying.” Dark murmured as he scratched the tingling.

“What? I thought we worked on your hugging problem? Do we need to-”

“No. We do not need to go through ‘hugging boot-camp’ again. That was the biggest waste of three weeks in my existence.” Dark huffed at the memory, he definitely did not want to go back to Wilford constantly asking if he could give him a hug. At first, it was a little annoying, but manageable, but he soon learned that the boot-camp meant he was getting hugged at least five times an hour and it was very difficult to work with a grown man holding you.

“Then what’s annoying you, pal?” Wilford asked, still keeping his arms on Dark.

“My wrist,” Dark responded, stretching his shoulders out a little to tell Wilford he would like to be let go and Wilford got the hint.

“Does it hurt? Do you need a bandage?” Dark would never admit it out loud, but he did appreciate Wilford’s genuine care for him. Not a lot of people cared for the sociopathic demon, Dark couldn’t blame them, but it caused the pit of his stomach to heat up a little when Wilford did that. Dark didn’t know what the feeling was, but it felt kind of good so he never went out of his way to make it stop.

“It’s not in pain, it’s just an itch.” Dark adjusted his sleeve to make sure his mark was covered.

“Wait a moment, I saw that.” Wilford grabbed Darks wrist and pushed the sleeve back up. “You have a mark!?” He exclaimed loudly, earning a light glare from Dark when he noticed that they were getting some strange looks from the other people in the park.

“Yes, I do and again, keep your voice down,” Dark said in a hiss as he yanked his arm away.

“I have one too!” Dark threw his hands up when Wilford suddenly put his foot on his lap, lifting up his pant leg to show a mark on his upper ankle. “It kind of looks like a lowercase ‘d’,” Wilford commented as he pointed at the mark. Dark closed his eyes and took in a deep breathe before reopening them and gently removed Wilford’s leg.

“We can discuss this later, I-”

“Didn’t you say that yours just started itching? Like a tingling?” Wilford twitched his large mustache.

“Body parts itch. It’s nothing more than that.” Dark was not the biggest fan on the look Wilford had.

“I always want my little demon’s attention,” Wilford repeated and when he saw Dark’s hand stiffen a little, he let out a cheer. “I knew it!”

“Knew what?” Dark could feel her entire body clench, he knew exactly what Wilford was referring too, but he was hoping playing dumb would make it not real.

“We’re soulmates!” Dark quickly stood and began walking away, he could escape his, he could easily escape this. “Come on, Darky!” Dark stopped, his feet doing to opposite of what he wanted. “What’s wrong, chap?”

“I can’t be a soulmate…” Dark stated.

“Obviously not so, given you have a mark and everything.” Wilford chuckled.

“I can’t be your soulmate!” Dark faced Wilford as he yelled, tensing back up when he saw that Wilford was scratching at his ankle. “I can’t be your soulmate.” He repeated, swallowing thickly when Wilford continued scratching. “No,” Dark whispered before suddenly disappearing.

“Rude.” Wilford huffed before disappearing as well, crossing his arms as he arrived in the ego’s meeting room. Dark sat at the head of the table, where he always sat. It was always about control with that man. “Really, out of all the places to run to, you come here?”

“It’s the only place that I know I always have control,” Dark admitted.

“Dark, ol’ pal, there’s nothing wrong with having a soulmate.”

“I know that. That’s the function of this world, it’s how they pair off...for most of them.” Dark was staring at his wrist, wishing that he was one of the few that were unbranded, soulmates nor romance not being part of their lives. Why couldn’t he be like that?

“Then why are you so upset? I didn’t even know you could get upset.” Wilford chuckled lightly as he headed over to the other man.

“I don’t. I’m not supposed to. I am not like this. I don’t feel. I think I manipulate, I work, I do not feel.” Dark covered his mark back up.

“Obviously that’s not true.” Wilford took Dark’s hand in his own and pulled the sleeve back up, moving a lot slower and gentler than before. “I always want my little demon’s attention.” Wilford felt Dark’s hand tighten its grip.

“Let go.” Dark’s order sounded weak. “Please.” He added, remembering that it wasn’t as easy to boss around Wilford as it was the others.

“You’ve said in this very room that you respect me. That you always have. Why is it so hard to believe that we’re soulmates? We’ve been friends for how long? We’ve been working together for even more. Everyone knows that if one of us is here, the other isn’t too far behind. What’s so wrong with just adding another layer?” Dark could tell that Wilford was not going to let go.

“I can’t do that to you, not after everything I’ve already done.” Dark used his free hand to hold his head. What was this terrible feeling in his chest? It ached. It hurt. It felt...gross. Wrong.

“You haven’t done me any harm.” Wilford laughed. “You’ve always been there for me. You’ve helped me a lot. Who else would put up with me and help clean up my messes? My kitchen would be nothing but ash if it wasn’t for you.”

“I’ve taken so much from you and you don’t even know.” Dark sighed.

“What could you have taken from me?”

“Celine and Damien.” Dark felt his chest pinch tightly when he got a confused look from Wilford.

“Who?” Wilford tilted his head while the back of Dark’s screamed. A burning feeling began to form around the rim of his eyes and he quickly blinked, feeling something wet threatening to come out. What was this? He had this sudden urge to just scream and curl up into a ball. He craved for warmth, but it was a specific kind of warmth.

“No one. Don’t worry.” Dark stood, realizing that Wilford was still holding his hand. He didn’t know that the feeling coming from Wilford’s hand was soothing, that it was the only thing preventing him from breaking.

“Dark?”

“I can’t.” Dark tried to take his hand away, but he couldn’t.

“Why do you always have to be so negative?” Wilford moved a little closer. Dark felt a heat press into his lower stomach. His entire body twitched, begging him to move while someone inside of his head pleaded with him to embrace Wilford. To just hold him. To do it. Do it. Do it. DO IT.

“I can’t.” Was all Dark could say at the moment.

“You can. Give it a try, pal. I can. I can.” Wilford took Dark’s other hand and swayed them a little. “I can.”

“I…” Dark started to step away.

Just give in. You can’t give in. Hold him. Run away. You’ll be free. You’ll be trapped. You’ll make him better. You’ll make everything worse.  It was meant to be. Nothing is forever. Love him. Hate him. Love him. Hate him. Love him. Hate him. L-

Dark’s thoughts stopped with a simple press to his lips. Everything froze around him as a deep warmth filled him. Hands were on the side of his face and his own held the wrists of the arms they belonged to. He was keeping the hands there, not wanting the contact to go away as the fingers rubbed through his hair.

“I didn’t know demons could blush.” Wilford teased when they parted. “At least, I think you’re blushing. Not much color for me to work with here.” Dark did not respond. “Here.” Wilford took Dark’s arms and wrapped them around his waist, putting his hands on the demon’s shoulders. “I know you’re all about control and whatnot, this probably makes you feel a little better.” Dark had no idea what to say, he was still reeling in from the kiss. “Hello? Earth to Dark? Don’t make me start singing.” Wilford threatened with a smile, making Dark shimmy by moving his shoulders. Dark only blinked a few times before grabbing Wilford’s arms and using them to pull the pink man close so he could press their lips together.

“I can try.” Was all Dark said before he gave the man another kiss, not seeing Wilford rubbing his ankle against his other leg.

“And thus began the two’s journey into becoming a very strong and powerful couple.” A voice said in the distance.

“Host,” Dark growled, instinctively moving Wilford behind him.

“It’s not like you have to worry about Host seeing, the Jims on the other hand.” Wilford pointed down, laughing when Dark saw the twins crouching behind Host, one holding a microphone and the other holding a camera.

“We have to get our shot.” The Jim holding the microphone stated while the other nodded.

“Jims!” Dark shouted, stalking out of the room while the Jims ran, both yelling.

“You can’t kill them!” Dr. Iplier shouted from down the hall.

“I can try!” Wilford laughed at Dark’s comment and kicked out his leg.

“That is such a weird feeling.” He said.

“The Host wonders why you chose to lie to Dark about your phrase.” Host asked.

“How else was I going to get that stubborn demon to listen?” Wilford scoffed.

“The Host believes that beginning a relationship with a lie is not a good thing.”

“It’s only a lie until I tell Dark the truth,” Wilford stated.

“Wilford leaves the room, knowing that Host will continue to tell him to be honest and does not wish to listen.” Host said with a small smile as he heard Wilford’s footsteps.

“Hey, Dark! Wanna borrow my gun!?” Wilford asked as he ran.

“No shooties!” Jim cried.

“And with that. The story ends, but there will always be more tales to tell.” The Host paused when there was a loud crash. “Especially with these two.”