@solabeend and I made this band AU, so i drew the band’s “logos” and doodled The Hosts band :DD!! ((no the Host as we know him doesn’t actually exist, he’s like the symbol of the band))
Sorry this took so long! I really wanted it to be good. And it ended up longer than expected.
And my mental health hasn’t been the best these past few days (translation: I’ve been a fucking trainwreck) so my apologies for that.
ALSO- special thanks to @bing-iplier for helping me out with this! I don’t know what I’d do without you, bro.
This is in association with Dark Decay and One Night. Maybe a part three to this? I don’t know. But I’d love to do so much more with this concept.
Ahead: gore, stages of decomposition, major character death, angst.
Title: Black Blood, Silver Band
“Wilford makes his way down the hall. He is looking for something. Someone. His eyes dart back and forth, searching shadows for any hint of anything darker, any flash of red or blue or gray that could indicate the presence of the someone he is searching for.”
A pause. Normally, the words would come fast and hard, tumbling over themselves and jumbling together in their hurry to get out. But not now. Now was the time for calm. Now was the time for clarity.
Also I love this more than words describe. I hope you do too.
Title: One Night
“Please, take the pain.”
Dark was on his knees in front of him. His suit jacket and undershirt were both unbuttoned, revealing to Bim what he really had no desire to see.
Rotten, oozing flesh. Pearl-white bone. Hints of festering organs.
The air was tinged with the heavy scent of decay. It rolled off Dark in waves.
Bim’s heart broke a little at the sight.
“Please.” The words came out a whisper, and Bim fought back a bitter, choked laugh.
He’d never seen Dark as one to beg.
“And what do you offer me in return?” Something flashed in Dark’s eyes when he said this. Malice, maybe, or pride. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, leaving Bim to wonder if he’d imagined it. “I don’t give anything for free.”
The answer came immediately. “Anything.”
Bim circled him, slowly, considering his options. But there wasn’t anything to consider, really, was there? He’d always known what he’d wanted.
Still, there was a long, pregnant pause before he said, “for one night, you are mine. And I can take the pain away.”
“Is it sex you’re after?” The stare that Dark fixed him with held dull curiosity and something else Bim couldn’t quite decipher.
He quickly looked away, waved a hand dismissively, as if to claim indifference. “For whatever I want.”
There was another pause. Then, “do you love me?”
Bim’s heart fluttered against his ribs and he turned, forcing nonchalance to his face and to his tone. “That’s not in the terms of our agreement.”
He knew Dark could see the answer in his eyes, knew that, even with his carefully schooled expression, it was written all over his face.
But to Bim’s relief, the entity didn’t comment.
Instead, he gave a slow, exhausted nod. “I agree to your terms.”
Bim smirked, then leaned down, sliding two fingers under Dark’s chin and lifting his head up so their lips could meet. “Then pucker up, buttercup.”
Summary: Ending 3/3. Good things come to those who wait. (Masterlist) Enjoy~
Dark had been in this state for six months. Wilford sat beside him, smiling a little. Sadness weighed his eyes down. Six months without his Dark. Six months. Everyday it ate at him a little more. He doesn’t remember when, but sometime over the last few months he’d started wearing Dark’s black jacket. Helped him feel more professional.
He watched as Dark blinked a couple of times. Wilford startled as he watched Dark groan and stretch. “Wil?” He asked in a hoarse voice.
“Dark!” Wilford hugged him, which made ten things pop and crack inside Dark. Dark groaned at the sensation. “Dark, Dark you’re back you’re back.”
“You’re wearing my coat…” Dark murmured. “Are you trying to stretch it out?”
Wilford sputtered a laugh, and tears crawled down his face. “S-sorry. Just thought it looked good on me.”
“It does…” He rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Wilford, you’re crying? Why? How long was I gone?”
“Six months.” He whispered. “I thought you were gone for good, not coming back.”
“Six months.” Dark repeated with a frown. “No, no it can’t be.”
“It is.” Wilford clung to Dark, and he burrowed his face in Dark’s neck. “It is so so true and I felt so lonely.”
Dark patted and rubbed his back. “I’m back now Wil. I feel… more complete. I’m not going anywhere, Wilford. Not again.”
Wilford pulled back, just to kiss him. It was a slow, but deep kiss, his warm lips accepted Dark’s cold ones easily, eagerly. Dark was surprised but returned the kiss with just as much ease. The two loves stayed close, having missed each other so much.
Summary: Ending 2/3. He’s just a little too late. (Masterlist) Enjoy~
Dark blinked several times, the warm sun hitting his face. He sat up in bed and stretched, a yawn escaping his lips though he doubted he slept. He must have been out for a few hours, maybe a day. He wondered who had control, Damien or Celine. More importantly, he wondered where Wilford was. He was usually by Dark’s side whenever he relapsed.
He stood slowly, and groaned, body aching and popping and cracking in different places. He walked down the hall, listening for the usual racket that the egos caused.
But he was met with silence.
Dark frowned as he walked in, regaining fine motor skills slowly, starting to move with more and more finesse. “Hello?” He yelled to the empty halls. “Wilford? Google? Yan? Anyone?”
Silence. He kept walking on.
Finally, he saw an elderly woman, her hair long and grey, a red streak dyed through it. She sat in a rocking chair. She was sitting beside a window, the sun peering in and warming her. Dark approached slowly. “Excuse me, ma’am?”
The woman jumped up and pulled a katana out. She pointed it at him and glared. “Who’s there?”
Dark looked in her eyes. Cataracts, but that wasn’t what he was focused on. It was her face as a whole, so familiar and so different all at the same time. Then, he felt his heart drop and shatter as he realized who he was looking at. “Yandere?” His voice was broken, his layers cracked as he spoke. “Yan, sweet girl… is that you?”
Yan lowered her sword. “… father?” She whispered. “You’re awake?”
Dark ran over and hugged her tightly. He couldn’t believe it, no. This… this eighty year old woman can’t be his daughter. She can’t be. No… He was only gone for a day… Nothing more.
“He said you’d wake up.” She told him as she pulled out of the hug. “He said we just had to wait. He was ri-” Yan was cut off with a harsh cough, and Dark almost cried. His little girl, an old woman. Riddled with age. He noticed her hands shaking, the sword twitching in her grip.
“Where’s your dad? Where are the others?” He asked, his voice barely audible.
“Outback. They all are. You should see him.” She took a seat in her rocker and sipped her tea.
So Dark walked to the backyard. He covered his mouth, tears streamed down his cheeks and his body trembled. His shell cracked. “No, no no no!”
The backyard had been covered into a graveyard, each grave having a name that was all too familiar to him. He was shaking as he found Wilford’s, dropping to his knees and sobbing. “W-Wilford… No, please…” He whispered. “No, I-I love you please… don’t be gone….”
The slab of granite doesn’t respond. Dark wept over the grave for a day, shaking and never wanting to leave his side. But alas, he got to his feet, and trudged back inside with his heart in pieces. He would care for his aging daughter until he had to bury her too, then he was left alone in the house.
He often slept in Wilford’s room alone, wearing the clothes Wil could no longer wear, on account he was buried six feet under in the backyard they were supposed to share whilst they grew old together.
“Why?” The Author flashed him a grin, his teeth white against the dark. “Because I am who I am because of you? Because-” he leaned closer, batting his eyelashes- “I adore your laugh?”
Dark’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, eyes glinting under the passing lights of the streetlamps. “Next time, I pick the movie.”
“Aww,” the Author reached across the center console to stroke Dark’s cheek with his thumb, “your smile is gorgeous. Please, keep doing it.”
“I’m going to kill you.” As he spoke, the road took a desolate turn; the streetlamps and urban setting faded away, leaving only the headlights to illuminate the cracked, pot-hole filled road in front of them. The only thing that could be seen for miles ahead was black, dense woods.
“But I love you,” the Author declared, “you can’t kill me.”
Dark snorted, then, without further comment, flicked the blinker on and pulled over to the side of the road. “This is your stop. Get out.”
The Author groaned. Then a mischievous smile spread across his face and he leaned across the console to whisper in Dark’s ear, “but … can’t I just stay the night?”
That earned a scowl. “No.”
The Author brought his hand up to cup Dark’s face, tilting it so the entity was forced to meet his gaze. “I’m very lonely, you know. Can’t you come keep me company?” He batted his eyelashes again, hoping that he sounded sufficiently lovelorn and I-am-all-alone-in-this-world. “Just for a little bit?”
The scowl deepened. “No.”
“Perhaps this will change your mind.” The Author kissed him, slow at first, then harder as Dark reciprocated in kind.
Dark was the first to break away. He gave a frustrated sigh before cutting the engine. “Fine. You win.”
The Author grinned, kissed him again. “I knew I would.”
emptynarration 