#project darkstache 2020

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Darkstache week day 2: Balloons and Flowers

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Flirting with Danger

Summary: Wilford isn’t normal, probably never had been; but flirting with an eldritch demon that keeps their city afloat has to be a new high for the madman.

Theme: Cryptic/Danger

Warnings: Discussion of mass murder, death threats. No death takes place in the fic.

Arkham Mysteries (next part of the series)

Normally people in town didn’t volunteer for the red ritual. People usually had more self-preservation than that. Of course, the ritual still had to be performed so someone got sacrificed anyways, but unless they were especially devout to “the Entity” as the town called it, or felt like they couldn’t escape, they tended not to raise their hands.

Wilford Warfstache was not what anyone would call a “normal person”. He wasn’t even classified anymore as a “strange person”. Ever since Wilford was little he’d been causing some trouble, popping his head in and out with no sign of how to stop him.

But here Wil was, on the town’s highest cliff, chained to a rock that barely kept him from falling off the cliff itself. He was left alone as the new moon darkened the sky, leaving only the stars to offer their cold, distant light.

“You again?” A gravelly voice ripped its way across the clifftop.

The still human part of Wilford shivered violently at the creature’s approach, but the rest of him felt something like euphoria.

“Ahh, Darkling,” Wilford smiled bravely. “How’s the Void treating you? Well I hope?”

His chin was seized by the darkness itself, eyes like dying stars staring out at him. Wilford’s skin crawled, and he leaned into the touch. “You look lovely today, my dear.”

“You owe me a sacrifice, you whelp,” the Entity, “Dark” as Wilford had bravely been calling him for years now.

“Anything you desire, my dear,” Wilford promised madly. “I would bathe the world for you if you desired it. Name them, and I will bring them.”

“Anyone?” Dark gave the closest thing to a purr that his inhuman form could make. A tendril of shadow traced along the side of Wil’s face

“Anyone,” Wil promised. “I would slay the most incredible beast.”

The creature traced down to Wil’s chest, right over his heart. It left phantom shivers down Wil’s body wherever the inky blackness passed. “Give me your shadow, and pledge yourself to me.”

“I was always your, my dear Darkling,” Wilford smiled.

“Do it,” Dark threatened, “or I leave you hollow and dangling over the precipice.”

“How exactly do we do this?” Wil smiled challengingly. “I wasn’t exactly left with my hands.”

“I need your full name, the one you were given when the universe spat you out,” Dark said. “Give it to me.”

“Oh,” Wilford scoffed. “That old thing, I wasn’t using it. It’s William Jackson Barnum.”

The instant the name left his mouth, Wil felt like he’d been punched in the gut so hard his soul threatened to leave his body. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he went limp against the rock, blacking out.

He came to on top of the cliff, a metal cuff around his wrist, as he fought the nausea threatening to knock him back to the ground.

Wilford felt a hand on his back as a shrill ringing enveloped his mind, it felt like it was bouncing against his head. He felt a physical hand under his chin, a finger forcing him to look up into a dark pair of eyes, the same phantom tingling that reminded him of Dark still there.

“He-llo, Darkling,” Wilford slurred, trying to regain his senses with his head so full of noise.

The creature, wearing a more human-looking face smiled back. “Yes, you’ll do wonderfully.”

Dark was letting Wil lean against him, the man slightly less human than he was before, his shadow carved out and replaced with something else. “I need you to bring me someone, a human who’s been causing me and my little town so much trouble. Do you think you could be a dear and bring me his head?”

The static lessened, and Wilford finally managed to stand on his own, “His head?”

Warfstache gave a very inhuman smile, “My sweet, Darkling, I’ll bring you anything you desire.”

Dark gave him a smile, watching him leave to fulfill his new existence as Dark’s messenger. A promise of destruction and chaos to be left in their wake, wherever they went.

[mermaid-nebula]

Darkstache day 3: Feeling blue and Favorite things!

Dark feels sad and unlovable but Wilford reminds Dark that he loves him and that Dark is his favorite thing!

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Roadtrip to Nowhere

Summary:  Wil takes Dark for a bit of a drive, and gets a little lost in the process. But the less Dark knows about that second part the better.

Theme: Moonlight/Roadtrip

Warnings: None

Dark woke up slowly, blinking as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Wil where are we?”

There was a beat of silence.

“Wil?” Dark groaned, rubbing at his face, and cursing his back for being so awful. He was in a car with Wil, and Wil had wanted to take him in a car. He’d claimed it was “for old time sake” and Dark had been too tired to do anything but try to sleep for most of the ride.

“We’re almost there,” Wil promised, a huge smile on his face.

“Did you get us lost?” Dark growled.

“Nah,” Wil rolled his eyes and took another exit. “Why would I be lost?”

Dark just stared at him, motioning to the dark craggy landscape outside the car, “Wilford, we’re in the middle of the Grand Canyon. Last I checked we were driving towards NYC.”

“I know where I’m going,” Wil promised.

“If you just admit it, I won’t be mad, if I find out after another three hours after we’re shot out in the middle of the Olympia National Forest, then I’ll be upset.” Dark crossed his arms in front of him.

“I took a bit of a detour,” Wil reassured, but we’re back on track.

“What kind of detour has us halfway across the country?” Dark growled.

“The best kind,” Wilford boasted, and began driving off road for a little bit.

“I had a thousand things to do, the others are most likely running amok back at the Manor, so if you know where we are, exactly how long are we going to be the road?”

Wil’s face became a flat line, then he had a big smile and began to slow the car, gesturing in front of him. “We’re here!”

Looking out in front of the car, Dark saw that they were in the middle of nowhere, at night. In what was most likely coyote-infested countryside. “And where is here?”

Wilford teleported them both outside the car, gesturing to the open rocky plain in front of them, “Here!”

Unimpressed, Dark looked at all the glowing scorpions now around him, tentatively sizing him up as if he was just a colossal scorpion. “You got lost didn’t you? You’re just too proud to admit it.”

“Nonsense,” Wil clapped his hands twice and the car completely turned off, plunging them both into darkness.

Dark was about to give the mad reporter a rather scathing reprimand for bringing him out here, but his eyes adjusted inhumanely quick and he saw the expanse of the night sky in front of him, the waning moon bright and nearly full overhead backdropped by the Milky Way.

“Oh,” Dark realized, looking at all the colors and lights.

Then he let himself be jumped again and they were both lying on the roof of the car, a padded blanket protecting Dark’s back.

“See, isn’t this nicer than some dusty city, ol’ sport?” Wilford smiled.

“It,” Dark faltered, “it is nice.”

“The city’s become so stuffy lately, never any good places to see the stars like you used to,” Wil rambled.

Dark was lost in thought, his mind thrown back to a moment where three young boys, all still friends, snuck out in the woods at night to face invisible monsters and imagery foes. The stars just as bright, and the moon overhead.

“Darkling?” Wil prodded.

The Entity pulled out of his musing, “What was that? Sorry, I was distracted.”

Wilford frowned, then he gave Dark a small smile, “That’s okay, it’s a pretty sight.”

“Thank you, Wil,” Dark told him, leaning over to give him a kiss. “It’s lovely.”

“You’re lovelier,” Wil smiled back, kissing him again.

As the two old souls lay under the stars, peaceful from the chaos that normally enveloped their lives, they took the break they both so desperately needed.

[mermaid-nebula]

Darkstache week day 4: Tradition

Just a traditional kiss under mistletoe!

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Darkstache

Day 1: Moonlight/Roadtrip.

Reposting cause I was really early (and excited apparently) 😂 Anyway I love them! And pining Dark.

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A Little Pink One

Summary: Madness is usually Wil’s specialty, but every once in a while Dark becomes a less of a demon.

Theme: Balloons/Flowers

Warning: None, only angst.

A/N: Guess what? It’s the DAMIEN anniversary, guess what that means? Angst!

Today was already an odd day. Usually, on a normal day, King and Iplier were up first. Iplier because his shifts were usually early in the morning so he could tend to the Host’s injuries later on in the day. Google was up next, followed by Dark who was usually awake first but it took some time to show his face around the other Egos.

Today was different. Mostly because when Iplier walked down he found that there was an unexpected draft. Thankfully because of the spring air it wasn’t too bad, but when he found that all the downstairs windows and doors were all open, the doctor got concerned. Even more so by the pool of blood on the ground under the balcony to the second floor landing.

“Doc, where’s Wil?” King shouted as he ran in.

“Did he open everything?” Iplier asked, getting more and more worried as he looked around. “I’ll go get Dark.”

“No,” King cautioned, motioning for the Doctor to follow him. “It’s Dark, he’s outside.”

“What’s he doing outside?” Iplier was already following King, pausing a bit as King led him into the woods.

“Celine!” Dark’s voice called out into the woods, his voice echoing off every tree.

The two egos got lost, literally slamming into Wil who was calmly strolling through the woods.

“There you are!” Iplier shouted. “What did you do?”

“What’da ya mean? Wilford slurred, looking confused.

“The house is a mess, and Dark is out here screaming like a maniac,” Iplier listed off.

Wil, whether he was purposefully oblivious or honestly distracted, he bent down and picked a pink flower off the ground. “Oooh, what pretty little thing.”

Iplier glared at him, “Did you hear a word I said?”

“Phish posh,” Wil dismissed, starting to pick the five-petalled pink flowers and assemble them into a simple but elegant bouquet. “I’m going to bring these little things to Darky.”

The Doctor felt like slamming his head on a tree, he turned to look at King, “Go get the Host.”

King ran off and Dr. Iplier stayed with Wil, the reporter picking the flowers until he had a bouquet of them, using the long stems to hold them all together.

As they walked Iplier realized how cold it felt, almost like the late spring was instead turning into the dead of winter. “Wil?” Iplier tried to interrupt Wil’s chatting, “we need to find Dark, it’s getting cold.”

“I know exactly where he is,” Wil promised. “Come on, I know a shortcut.”

He tugged Iplier off in a random direction, wandering further into the forest.

Damien was hopelessly lost in the woods again, a feeling of urgency clawing at his soul. “Celine!” He screamed out, desperate to find her. It was getting cold, and a badass attitude and a hunting rifle could only keep you so warm.

It was so cold, Damien felt freezing cold, his teeth were chattering. “Celine! Where the devil are you‽ It’s fucking cold out here!”

His chest hurt, like something was twisting and constricting his heart. “Celine!”

“Dark?”

“Celine!” Damien called out. “Where are you?”

A hand lightly touched Damien’s shoulder, “Dark, are you okay? I’ve never seen you this out of sorts. Are you okay old sport?”

“Wil, I don’t have time for this!” Damien slapped William’s hand away. He turned around and something was wrong with William. He was dressed more than a little strange. “What— . . . What did you do to your mustache?”

William looked confused, scrunching up his nose and upper lip, pointing to the bright pink curled mustache. “My mustache has always been like this.”

Then he shook his head and held up a bouquet of pink flowers. “For you, my dear, I saw them and thought of you.”

Damien had a thousand conflicting thoughts buzzing through his head. That it wasn’t proper for William to give him flowers, that someone would see them like this. That when someone saw the flowers both his and Wil’s careers would be over, if they were lucky that would be all they would lose. Celine was still out there . . . but they were such little, silly things . . . they . . .

Dark shook his head, confused and started. He looked down at the axe in his hand. “Wilford, where am I?”

The reporter looked more than a little concerned for a second before he gave Dark a huge smile. “Well, I don’t know, Darky, but I brought you these flowers. Aren’t they nice?”

Delicately Dark took them and to his amazement the color held up against his aura, his aura trying to strip all the colors and devour them, but especially the pink color stubbornly stayed as bright and vibrant as before.

It hauntingly reminded Dark about something, Dark gently turned the bouquet around so he could inspect the flowers.

“Thank you,” Dark told him. The two exchanging a kiss.

Dark pulled around, only then realizing that Iplier was standing there. “Doctor, how long have you been there?”

Iplier looked like he was deciding what to say for a bit, shaking a bit from the cold, “Why don’t we get home? You two can talk there.”

Wil rolled his eyes, clapping his hands and they were standing in the entrance hall of the Manor, Iplier looking disorientated. “Hoo boy, is it drafty in here or what?”

Dark snapped his fingers and the Manor began to right itself, walking towards the stairs, “Well if the party’s over, I’m going back to work.”

Wil smiled, practically spinning on the spot. “Work on what? Can I help?”

Dark rolled his eyes, gesturing to the reporter with the bouquet, starting to walk up the stairs, “If you’re quiet and you let me work.”

There was a twinkle in Wil’s eyes, he gestured to himself, “What sort of ruffian do you take me for?”

One of Dark’s eyebrows arched up before he kept walking up the stairs, Wilford slowly following him, hands clasped behind his back, still smiling. The Manor righted in its twisted glory once again.

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Put on your Finest Suit

Summary: Dark and Bim go looking in the attic for a video, and it brings up some bittersweet memories.

Theme: Tradition/Video

Warnings: None

“Dark, Dark, what the hell is this?” Bim demanded, bursting into Dark’s formerly-quiet office.

“Bim, I’m busy,” Dark groaned, sitting at his desk in what had been a productive day.

“I know I know, I just had one question,” Bim promised, even though Dark knew it was a lie.

Dark sighed.

“Is this you? And why the hell did you think that outfit was a good idea on you?” Bim asked.

“Already using your second question, Trimmer?” Dark sighed. He did turn to see a picture of himself, well . . . an older version of himself. He had shaggy hair that reached to his shoulders, and a shaggy beard. The Entity appeared to be sleeping on a couch in a yellow suit.

“Oh,” Dark recognized. “Where’d you find this?”

“Up in the attic,” Bim shrugged, letting Dark take the picture. “So there a story? Please tell me it’s juicy.”

“No, nothing too salacious,” Dark reported. “I’d just met up with Wilford and my powers were acting up so he let me rest on his couch. The suit is his. My own outfit was soggy with snow.”

“This was taken in August,” Bim reminded, pointing to the back of the picture where a date had been stamped on it.

Dark stood, moving both him and Bim to the attic. Since the more gregarious Ego was used to hanging around Wilford he was more used to teleporting in the Manor than some of the other Egos were. “He’s got a video of this somewhere.”

“A video really?” Bim was practically jumping up in the air a bit. “Where?”

Then his eye fixated on a clothing rack of different types of suits and outfits. “Is this a pink dress . . . are these flowers?”

“I can’t look at everything you see in this rats’ nest, and look for the camera,” Dark reminded.

“Pl~lease, just once,” Bim begged.

Dark sighed, looking over to a dress that was a pastel pink with flowers on it. “That’s Wil’s, if you want it, you can ask him.”

“Really?” Bim gasped in excitement, “not really my style, but it does look nice.”

Then he started looking around, “Wow, looks like you’ve got all kinds of Halloween costumes here.”

Finally pulling Wil’s old camera from WW1 out of a box, “Alright I found it.”

Dark looked up to see Bim pull a light beige uniform out of the rack, a red ascot carefully draped over the neck of the hanger. Dark’s form split violently and his ringing became shrill.

Bim was tapping the medals, “These real, or just really good fakes?”

“Give me that! You ham-handed monkey!” Dark roared, ripping the hanger out of Bim’s hand. He was angrily muttering under his breath as he soothed out the wrinkles that Bim had started making.

“Geez, calm down,” Bim rolled his eyes, watching Dark carefully return the uniform to the rack. “What? That from an ex or something?”

Dark glared at him, holding up the camera, “You can either take my offer to watch the film, and stop asking inane questions, or leave me alone.”

Bim sighed, “Fine, probably was a douchebag anyways.”

The younger Ego had meant to mumble it, but hadn’t been quiet enough. Dark grabbed him by the throat and the two were dumped into Dark’s office, Dark practically chucking the old camera at his head, summoning up a T.V. “There’s your wretched camera, be quiet and let me work.”

Bim glared at him, “This thing got some kind of adapter or something, doesn’t really look like it has 4K tech.”

“It’s Wil’s,” Dark scoffed. “It’ll connect, just let me work.”

After a bit of complaining and some nudging from Dark’s aura, the film began to play somehow without being connected to the TV. It started on Dark sleeping on the couch.”

“Well isn’t that a sight?” Wilford’s familiar drawl came from the T.V, fully distracting Dark from his work. The camera whirled around to show Wil’s face, his mustache half-turned pink and curling. “I dare say he’s a keeper.”

Wil’s mustache twitched “Real cute one too. I’m ashamed to admit I’ve forgotten the ol’ chap’s name. Began with a “D” I believe.”

A harsh ring pitched up, “Wil, what the devil are you doing?”

“I’m filming something for the boys, sweetheart,” Wilford pointed the camera at Dark, who was slowly picking himself up from the couch. “Say hello, Darkling.”

“No, get that thing out of my face, and that’s not my name,” Dark grumbled.

“Well what else am I supposed to call you, Darkling?” Wilord’s smile was almost visible through the camera.

Dark was glaring at him, making the video glitch, “Call me Dark, at least that’s more dignified than your pet names.”

Then he looked down at himself, “Really?”

“Well your clothes were all wet so I lent you some of mine,” Wilford admitted.

Dark just glared at him and slowly sat up, reaching up to straighten out his hair as the color began to drain from the yellow suit, making it appear like it was a solid grey suit. “They’ll do for now. Put some clothes on, Wil, we’ve got work to do.”

The camera sagged a little.

“Wil, put your clothes on,” Dark snapped.

“Fine,” Wilford pouted. “What are we doing anyways?”

Dark gave a sly, eerie smile and the video ended.

“Are you wearing a yellow suit?” Bim asked.

That got a bit of chuckle out of Dark, “No, this one’s a dark blue.”

To emphasize it, Dark took his coat off and held it out, the bottom of the coat losing its staticy-grey and turning into a deep navy blue. “Easier to manage and replace when Wil or any of you do something stupid.”

“I resent that,” Bim decided. “My ideas are great.”

“You’re a cannibal that chooses his prey libido-first, the only thing you have going for you is that at least you don’t go on a daily murderous rampage,” Dark reminded the younger Ego, putting back on his suit. “Which has only gotten worse the more time Wil spends time with you.”

“Did someone call my name?” Wilford asked, suddenly appearing in the room. “Oh is that my camera? I’ve been looking for this thing everywhere.”

“Then stop leaving your things everywhere,” Dark sighed, summoning up more film for it, safely stored in a dark box for it to keep the film safe. “It makes a mess.”

“Well thanks for keeping it safe,” Wil kissed Dark on the cheeks. “You’re the best Darkling.”

“Don’t break it, they’re almost impossible to replace,” Dark responded.

“I won’t, I won’t,” Wilford promised, holding the box under one arm and then snapping his fingers, replacing the camera. “Smile, Darky.”

“Wil, I don’t have time—” Dark glared, and Wil pushed something on the camera, and an unnatural bright, comically large flashy came from the camera.

“Wil!” Dark spat. “Stop that.”

“Oh, ho!” Wil chuckled, holding a picture. “You didn’t blink.”

Dark was huffy for a bit, but calmed down and Wil left with the camera, and Dark went back to his desk, and his peace and quiet. After a bit, Dark snapped his fingers and he was wearing a lighter grey suit, it’s normal sun-like color drained from the fabric. Wil’s aura still naturally clung to it even after the years it’d been since he’d worn it, leaving Dark in a far more relaxed mood.

Getting back to work, Dark looked through the paperwork he still had to do, occasionally pulling the lapel of the suit up so Dark could get a light trace of Wil’s cologne.

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This is a Nice Dinner for Two, I Promise Officer

Summary: Dark and Wil have a nice dinner at a little diner that’s been in Egoton since time forgot, or at least they try to if the heroes weren’t eyeing them as if they were massacring people in the street.

Theme: Dinner/Picnic

Warnings: None

The weather was wonderful, the crisp night air accompanied by light chirping in the distance. Whether it was the weather, or the fact that even insects didn’t like Dark. Dark was walking down the street with Wil, Dark had his hand on Wil’s arm.

The two of them stopped outside of a diner, Wil had a huge smile on his face. The reporter checked the pocket watch on the inside of Dark’s suit. “Right on time.”

“I do wish you would stop losing your watches, and your phone,” Dark reminded sharply.

“Maybe they should work properly,” Wil reminded.

“Dark, Wil,” Silver called out, flying over but staying up in the air, a safe distance away. He just suspiciously watched the two of them, clearly looking for something.

Wilford smiled cheerily. “Evening.”

“Yeah, evening,” Silver responded, mostly to be polite.

“If you could come closer to the ground,” Dark droned, “I’d like to not have to crane my neck so much.”

Silver did move a little further down but kept the same distance. He glanced around, clearly nervous at something. Looking up and down the street, Dark saw more than a couple humans on the street, watching them. Perfect, witnesses and collateral.

“So what brings you two to the neighborhood?” Silver asked, trying to keep attention on him.

“Date night,” Wilford answered gleefully. “Let’s go.”

“Get our seats,” Dark smiled at him.

Wilford practically jumped to the door, holding it open for Dark.

“You’re going to be on our trail all night aren’t you?” Dark asked.

“Not every day you come into town like a demonic spring chicken again, thought I’d see what all the fuss is about,” Silver evaded. “I’m not going to find a mess on the other side of town, am I?”

Dark smiled, “Try not to be too invasive, you’ll make the wine sour.”

With that, Dark turned and walked in. The whole restaurant basically snapped to attention. This diner was one that they’d frequently gone to, even since Wil and Dark had met back up again.

“Dark, Wil,” the hostess smiled, quickly showing them to their table. It was one of the booths. The seat reminded Dark of a simpler time when his body wasn’t quite his own yet, and Egoton hadn’t learned to fear or respect him yet.

Looking out his window he knew Silver was still watching them.

“What’s the matter, you have a fan?” Wil winked.

“No, Silver is positive we’re a distraction of some kind,” Dark smiled. “Which I find hilarious, but as long as he doesn’t interrupt the evening.”

“Are we?” Wil asked, curious.

Dark scoffed, as their coffee was brought out. “My Network is always working, this is my night off. The fact that some child is wasting his evening tailing me brings a smile to my cold dead heart.”

He gave the waitress a sidelong glance, “Wil, dear, tell her what you want to eat.”

Oh,” Wil looked over and the two gave her their orders. Their food came quickly, mostly because the two tended to order the same thing every time they came to the diner. Wine and some steaks.

“So how was the station today?” Dark asked calmly.

“Wonderful,” Wil smiled. “I’ve been talking with the Producer about getting some of those wily heroes on the show, that’d sure to be quite the interview.”

Dark put down his wine glass, “Best idea you’ve had yet, how’d Kathryn tank it.”

“She didn’t OK it,” Wil pouted. “Something about “liability” and “public outrage” or some such nonsense.”

Rolling his eyes, Dark promised, “I’ll talk to her, see what I can work out.”

Wilford’s eyes lit up, “You’d really do that for little ol’ me?”

“Of course,” Dark smiled, “and if you happen to kill the troublemaker it’s a win-win for me.”

The reporter laughed, “No one dies on my show sweetheart, it’s all part of the game. You got back up, after all.”

Dark took a second to swirl his wine. “Sure, Wil, all part of the game.”

“You always understand,” Wil leaned in. “Can you believe how many people play and don’t understand the rules? Tried to explain it to ol’ Anti but he didn’t get it. Real shame since I always thought he got it.”

“The glitch has the intellectual capacity of a sock,” Dark reprimanded sharply. “I’d appreciate you never talking to or about him again.”

Wil gave Dark a love-sick smile, “Have I ever told you how hot you look when you’re jealous?”

Glaring at him, Dark took the wine bottle out of the ice bucket and filled up his glass again, “Don’t be ridiculous, finish your steak, it’s getting cold.”

Wil startled looking down at his food, he did wind up eating more but soon the two were outside and walking into the night air. Dark’s arm was linked with Wil’s.

The rest of the evening was spent mostly taking a walk, normally Dark would rush back to his office and throw his mind back into work until the body he was puppet in demanded rest. But tonight was supposed to be his night off and Wil was right here, together where the both of them belonged.

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Sweet Blues

Summary: Wil is prone to dramatics, when things go wrong, the dramatics are turned up to 11.

Theme: Feeling Blue/Favorite Things

Warnings: None

“It’s not fair Dark,” Wilford complained, resting his head against the concrete wall in front of him.

Dark sighed, as if trying to keep himself calm at all costs. “Lots of things aren’t fair, Wil.”

“But I just wanted ice cream,” Wil complained.

Dark took in another deep breath, his ringing almost shrill at this point, “Wil, can I ask something?”

“Yes,” Wil whined. “As long as it’s about the cruel indifference of society.”

“What part of getting ice cream involves getting arrested!” Dark shouted, motioning around Wilford to the prison cell they were both in. Dark had really been a passive observer to his boyfriend’s chaotic antics today and after the arrest, used the Void to get inside the cell.

They would have gotten out an hour ago if not for Wilford complaining.

Wilford looked around, “They didn’t have your favorite.”

Dark dragged his hands across his face, “Wil, it’s okay, we could have gone to a different parlour. It wasn’t the end of the world, an unreasonable management of resources and money? Yes. But not a complete travesty.”

“But we’ve been going there for fifty years, they always have strawberry,” Wilford reminded him. “What ice cream shop doesn’t have strawberry?”

“You always make such a big deal about things like this,” Dark complained. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“I should start my own ice cream shop,” Wilford decided.

Dark let out a quiet scream into his hands, “Wil, if this is anything like your need to start a puppy sanctuary, save us all the trouble and just stick to interviewing.”

“But the ice cream,” Wilford pleaded. “Think of the ice cream.”

“I have,” Dark answered. “I will not have you near children with your penchant for murder. If I let you keep buckets of ice cream in the Manor, and let you contain it there, will you stop?”

“But it’s the virtue of the thing,” Wilford balked. “What’s the point of date night if you stay at the house?”

“That’s what wine is for Wilford,” Dark reminded coldly. “Of which I assure you, I enjoy our dates, but I do not enjoy the clean-up of bailing you out of jail.”

“Ice cream is always worth it,” Wilford defended.

Dark let out a long sigh through his nose, before growling sarcastically, “Sure, why not?”

“Exactly,” Wilford clapped excitedly. “You always understand.”

Dark, hitting his limit, dragged Wilford out of prison, keeping him in the Manor so he could calm down. It took some time — a week — before the reporter calmed down enough. Dark had to get more than a bit crafty to make sure Wilford had hazier details about the little ice cream debacle. A bit of a drastic measure, but it was that or let the madman open up an ice cream parlor, and while Dark cared deeply about Wil, the Entity knew it would only end up as a complete disaster.

Dark round up in a different ice cream parlour, sitting across from Wil on a table just outside of the restaurant, aware that Abe and another police officer were watching them.

Dark just locked eyes with Abe, enjoying his strawberry milkshake.

“How is it, Darkling?” Wil smiled.

“The ice cream was a nice thought,” Dark smiled, stirring his milkshake idly.

“Not our usual place, but can you believe it burned down?” Wilford asked.

Dark shrugged. “I’m sure it’ll be back up and running soon.”

“Yes, yes,” Wilford smiled again, the two of them idly talking as Dark did his best to relax.

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Round Robins

Summary: Gossip around the office tends to surround Wil, who he’s sleeping with, who he isn’t — Dark — but the office has a revolving bet of how long it’ll take for Dark to join Wil’s rather long list of ex-partners. Joke’s on them, they’re been dating for years now.

Theme: Ordinary People

Warnings: None

Dark was working at his computer, double checking the papers in front of him. He’d completely lost track of time as he usually did while he was working. Until the door to his office opened.

“Darkling,” Wilford, one of the two advertising managers, walked in. “Closing time.”

“No such thing,” Dark kept his eyes on the screen.

“Well some of the boys and I are going to the High House pub, wanted to see if you wanted to join us,” Wilford offered.

“I don’t,” Dark answered. “Marketing hates me.”

“I don’t,” Wil repeated.

“Just go have fun,” Dark dismissed. Wil pouted, but left him alone.

Everything was silent for a while, letting Dark work before he was interrupted again.

“Ye know, that was just Sara from HR’s five bucks goin’ inta the drain.”

Dark groaned, looking up to see Jack standing there, the Irishman was just standing there with his hands in his pockets. It had taken years for Dark and Jack to go from hated enemies, to never admitting they were friends even though Dark had been called by Jack’s brother during several emergencies.

“I don’t care what you’re all doing, my personal life is none of your concern,” Dark dismissed.

“You know, Cheri from HR thinks that the two of us are dating and that you just enjoy leading Wil on,” Jack shrugged.

“I don’t know why you’re all going to such lengths to fantasize about my personal life,” Dark felt his eyes trying to kill him, which he felt was weird because it couldn’t possibly be 3 AM because Jack was still at the office, and he wasn’t going to put his glasses on in front of Jack.

“Because yer an asshole, an’ Wil hasn’t completed the circuit,” Jack answered. “That and people are pretty sure you’re a demon.”

“I wish, I wouldn’t need sleep,” Dark stood up and started packing up his desk. “You know what, I’m just going home.”

“Drive safe, Chase will kill me if anything happens to you,” Jack warned.

Dark sighed, “Give him my regards, good night, McLoughlin.”

“Yeah, tell Wil I said hi,” Jack smiled.

Giving the Irishman a sly smile, Dark backed up his computer and grabbed his bag. “So long as you don’t tell anyone.”

Jack gave a fake scandalized, mock-hurt look, “An’ be out the entire pot, are ye mad?”

Dark let out a scoff and headed out of the office, grabbing his glasses only after he was safe in his car. It took about a half-hour to get to his house just outside of town, and he was a little bit surprised to see Wil there.

Wil smiled, bounding over to him, “You’re back early.”

“Figured I’d keep working from home,” Dark explained. “The office was getting a little distracting.”

“Why, some fresh young face?” Wil waggled his eyebrows. “Or did Jacky bring his brother into the office.”

Rolling his eyes, Dark pushed him away, heading towards his office to drop his stuff off, “No, don’t be obscene. You’re enough for me.”

“What a sweetheart,” Wil sighed. “A real gentleman.”

“If you could be less of a mayfly, I’d appreciate the gossip around the office to stop so that I can work,” Dark warned.

“But it’s fun to watch them run around,” Wil gave Dark a wide grin. “Imagine the heads that would spin if they found out how long we’ve been together.”

“If you would stop sleeping with people who hate me we might be able to make this,” Dark chuckled, motioning between the two of them with a finger.

“Not my fault Jenny was fun, wish she wasn’t married to that cad Jerry,” Wil scoffed.

“My point exactly,” Dark reminded. “Anyways, I was thinking of making shrimp fettuccine, any complaints?”

“As long as you make it, it’ll be delicious,” Wil agreed. “Oh can we make the little potatoes with the smiley faces you made for Chase’s kids? Those were adorable.”

“So long as you peel the potatoes and get the chili powder and breadcrumbs, make sure you don’t snack on too many of them,” Dark warned.

“No promises,” Wil was already rolling up his sleeves and racing into the kitchen.

“Wil, at least give me five minutes!” Dark called after him.

Resigning himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to get a whole lot done tonight, Dark took off his coat and began rolling up his own sleeves, racing into the kitchen to get the main pasta dish down before Wil could engorge himself on fried potato bread.

[mermaid-nebula]

Darkstache week day 5: Danger