(I am a s u c k e r for Darkstache so that’s what we’re going to go with. 😀 ) Send me a cute prompt!
“I planned out this super romantic proposal and you just ruined it by beating me to the whole proposal thing!” Wilford was absolutely livid, and glowered at Dark, who was currently on his knees, ringbox in hand. He swallowed and waiting for Wilford’s reply. They were on the roof of a building, the night sky shimmering overhead, the meteor shower at its apex when he’d asked the question. Now it was beginning to die down.
“Wil… I kind of… need an answer.” Dark told him.
“Like hell you do! Ugh! I had this big fancy dinner planned out for next weekend!” Wilford frowned and stomped his foot.
“Kind of like we had tonight.” Dark nodded. “That I took you on.”
“Yes but I was supposed to take you on it! Not you take me on it! And my proposal was going to be on a boat, out on the harbor, so you can see the city all lit up like you like to see sometimes!” Wilford scowled.
“You hate the ocean.” Dark was still on one knee. He wasn’t sure the rules of if there wasn’t an answer. He assumed he stayed there forever until eventually Wilford gave him one.
“But you love the ocean!” He countered with a frown. “Also you hate space. Why would you come up here to watch a meteor shower?”
“Cause you love space.” Dark gave him a soft smile. “How about you say yes to me now, and then next week, you can propose to me back, okay?” He offered.
Wilford’s anger melted and he smiled he nodded and walked over. “Of course I’ll marry you, Dark.” He pulled Dark up to his feet and gave him a tender kiss.
(I mean yes. You know me, a sucker for some Host lovin’. I think I’ll go withtthtththth Dark. For funsies!) Send me a cute prompt!
“A fairy tale with a happy ending always brings a smile to my face.” Dark smiled as he gazed across the table at the Host. Both men were still in their suits, Dark’s tie undone and hanging around his neck. His aura glowed and flickered, not in a harsh way. Just lightly, just a reminder that it’s still there.
The Host blushed, smiled and looked away. “Yeah… Me too…” He whispered. “Do you think it was mean, not inviting the other egos?”
“No.” Dark shook his head. He got up and walked around the table, holding his new husband from behind. He kissed his cheek. “I wanted this moment to be us. Just us. No one else.”
“The Host is flattered. He gets up and turns to face his newly wedded husband, taking him in his arms and beginning to lead him in a slow, sweet dance. Something he doubts the evilest of us egos are used to.”
Dark laughed and kissed the Host’s nose. “I’d be offended if I didn’t know you were kidding.” He smiled.
The Host grinned and kept dancing. “I’m glad you know I’m kidding. If you didn’t get my sense of humor, I don’t know how long this marriage would last.” He nuzzled into the crook of Dark’s neck and said no more.
Dark closed his eyes. The other egos slept peacefully, no idea of what had passed in the night. No idea of the sweet bliss that had come to pass, of the joy that the night had brought for two of the egos.
Summary: What if… they weren’t always characters? (Light Host/Dr. Iplier) Enjoy~
Dr. Edward Ibbot was a phenomenal surgeon and doctor, and he prided himself on this. He worked hard for his degree, and was constantly trying to learn ways to improve his practice. Every false diagnosis was a learning experience. Every failure was a new beginning. He was a sweet, kind man who kept to himself most days. Tall, slender, not muscular with dazzling green eyes and a stellar smile. He was perfect.
The doctor had been listening to soft guitar music while looking over patient records when his office door opened. Thanks to the night, it was harder to see the person move. All he had was his desk lamp, which barely shined bright enough for him to see the records. “Hello?” He asked quietly. “Who’s there?”
The figure flipped on the overhead switch, and Dr. Ibbot jumped to his feet. He gaped at the man, a generous term in his in opinion, for what stood in front of him looked hellish. Completely gray skin, with a flickering red and blue aura surrounding him. He cracked his neck, and Dr. Ibbot winced at the noise.
“That’s not natural!” Dr. Ibbot’s fear turned to worry. “Are you okay? What’s wrong with you? Can I help you?”
The man chuckled, the noise layered and unsettling. “You can help me by holding still.” He said flatly.
Before Dr. Ibbot could ask what he meant, the room was engulfed in a monochromatic colorscheme, and the furniture disappeared. It was just the man and the doctor. Dr. Ibbot didn’t get the chance to run. The man, no, the demon began to tear at his skin, at his face, organs, all of it. Changing him. Molding him.
Dr. Ibbot screamed, and screamed louder as the demon reached into his throat, changing how he sounded. He didn’t understand. How could he?
“You’re still too tall.” The demon hissed, and Dr. Ibbot felt his body compress on itself. “Your name is Dr. Iplier, do you understand?” Ibbot, now Iplier, didn’t have a choice. He nodded. “Good. Now, Dr. Iplier, tend to your practice.”
Then everything went black for the good doctor.
~
Dr. Iplier was a joke of a doctor. Wrong, no helpful insights, nothing. He was a joke. The others laughed at him, constantly telling them they were dying when he actually wanted to say Ed had high blood sugar or Bim was at risk for anemia, if he didn’t have it. But he couldn’t say it. What came out of his mouth was rubbish.
Dr. Iplier looked at his face in a hand mirror he had once again. He remembered everything, he remembered who he’d been before. He remembered who he was. He wondered if the others did.
He jumped at a knock on his door. Dr. Iplier put away the hand mirror. “Come in.”
“The Host opens the door and walks in. He closes the door before walking to sit in the chair next to Dr. Iplier.”
Dr. Iplier smiled. “Time to change your bandages already?” He asked.
“No… That’s not why I came.” The Host sighed. “Doctor… You’re not the only one who remembers.”
Dr. Iplier’s mouth fell open. He had so many questions, none of them coming out.
“No, you can’t talk about it. No one else can, but me… it’s in my character to have this ability. Dark hates it.” The Host explained, and took Dr. Iplier’s hand. Dr. Iplier felt his eyes sting, but tears wouldn’t break free. “I know your name is Edward Ibbot. And you are a good doctor. I wouldn’t trust anyone else with my care.”
Dr. Iplier lunged forward and hugged the Host. He wanted to say thank you. He wanted to talk about his old practice, his old home, everything. All that came out was a small, shaky, “I’m sorry, you’re dying.”
Summary: Dark asks the Host to create a better life for Wilford. One where there is no madness, so suffering. Just joy. A place where his creativity can flourish. No matter the consequences. Enjoy~
“You know, you’ll never see him again.” The Host’s words were pointed, sharp daggers into Dark’s fragile composure. “He will be out of reach.”
“That’s fine. He deserves it, the ability to get away from this all.” He told the Host in return. “He’s… not had the best life.”
“You say that as if this is all somehow your fault. When it was Mark’s. He created your story. You shouldn’t punish yourself for the actions of the man.”
Dark’s jaw locked and his aura flickered wildly at the mention of Mark. “I am not. Do as I asked, Host. Please.”
“If you insist… where do you want me to put him?”
“Somewhere he can be himself. Somewhere creative. Somewhere- Wil? Wilford how long have you been standing there? No, listen. Trust me, this is for the best. Host, start narrating. Now. Calm down Wilford, this is good for you. This is good-”
Willard J Walsh woke up a gasp. His forehead was coated with a thin layer of sweat, and he frowned. It was a dream so clear, it was almost like a memory. Fuck dreams.
Host: Admittedly, there are some people who take care of him more often, considering that someone doesn’t think some people are fit to take care of him
Host: Anyway, he’s not very aware of the things he does so it’s just better have someone there with them
emptynarration 