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coolmayordamien · 8 months

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Sweet Damien/(Y/N) the District Attorney fluff drabble because I cannot be stopped.

"My dearest friend," Damien greets you warmly, his eyes sparkling with unfeigned delight as he grasps your hands in his own. His ever-present cane leans against the bench that he has just vacated.

You cannot help but to grin in the face of his abject happiness. It never ceases to amaze you that a man such as this--wealthy, influential, handsome--can take so much pleasure from your company alone.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet me here," he says softly, politetly guiding you to the bench. The park that he has asked you to is not one that you have visited before, and it is lovely. There are many walking trails to choose from, a few of which seem to lead off into more private, wooded areas. You would like to walk with him, but his leg still gives him some trouble. You do not want to upset him by asking.

"Thank you for inviting me," you answer back. You are pleased to note a faint blush is dusting his features. It makes him look quite sweet.

Judging by the way he favors his right leg as he joins you on the bench, you were correct not to ask him to walk the trails with you today. That is just as well; it is thrilling enough to be sat next to him, watching people as they pass you by.

It seems to you that Damien has placed himself closer to you than is strictly necessary; although there is plenty of space to his other side, the pair of you are close enough that you can feel his body heat radiating through his suit jacket. If you were to shift slightly, your legs would be touching.

Some time passes in pleasant silence as you watch the world pass by. You and Damien do not always need words to understand each other. This is one of your favorite things about your old friend. You are simply comfortable together in a way that you do not experience with anyone else.

Eventually, though, he breaks the silence.

"My dearest friend," Damien says thoughtfully. "It is true, you know. You are the dearest person to my heart. Were our friendship ever to reach a parting, (Y/N), I simply do not know what I would do."

"Then I suppose that it's a good thing that we will always be friends," you say softly, placing a hand on his knee. You are startled when his own hand covers yours. It is warm, as warm as your cheeks are growing, and it feels so right to have your hand in his.

"I am so happy to hear you say that," Damien says earnestly, holding your gaze for such a long time that you can feel your blush growing.

"But," he continues, and your heart plummets, "I am afraid...I am afraid that I have been...I have not been forthright with you as of late, my friend."

"Damien?" you ask, your mouth suddenly dry. "What do you mean?"

He is quite pale as he says, "I find my thoughts turning to you...quite often. I think of your smile, your friendship, your laugh. I think of the way you rob me blind in poker, smirking all the while, and I--my thoughts, (Y/N), have not been...quite gentlemanly. I believe that my feelings for you have evolved quite without my permission."

You cannot say a thing, and he turns away from you. His hand tightens over your own as if he cannot control it.

"I have grown quite fond of you," he whispers haltingly. "I...mayhaps I...mayhaps I even care for you in a- a romantic sense."

"Damien," you say gently. He faces you once again, his expression one that seems to be prepared for rejection. You cannot help but to turn your hand in his, lacing your fingers together.

"I am quite fond of you as well," you grin, and his face lights up. You place the palm of your free hand against his cheek, which is lightly dusted with stubble. His eyes close as if the touch has caused him great pain, or great pleasure.

"I am so glad," Damien breathes as he leans in to graze your lips with his own. "So very glad, my dear."

#markiplier #markiplier fanfiction #markiplier fan fiction #markiplier egos #damien the mayor #markiplier damien #y/n #wkm the mayor #wkm the district attorney #the district attorney #damien/y/n #damien/reader #text post #my work #mayor damien

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jokingmisfit · 2 years

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Bro, I told my therapist that I write a lot of stories. I made a mistake and told them how sometimes my writing reflects my mental state... Now they want me to bring some into to share! HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO GROW THE BALLS TO BRING IN X READER FAN FICTION TO MY THERAPIST!? WHAT HAVE I DONE!? WHAT DO I DO!?

#fanfic writer #funny #supernatural x reader #batman x reader #hannibal x reader #reverse flash x reader #markiplier egos x reader #sanders sides x reader #dr.strange x reader #wtf is wrong with me #why is this my life #how do i fix this!??!#WHAT DO I DO #HELP ME PLEASE #fan fiction writer #writer problems

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meo618 · 2 years

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I saw you were taking requests 👉👈 could you perhaps draw the Host? I just think he’s neat, and he’d be even neater in your art style :D

ℝ𝕖𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕!

This took a surprisingly short amount of time (nearly exactly one hour, surprised myself with that tbh.) I love the Host but weirdly enough this is my first time drawing him. I should draw him more.

#markiplier #the host #markiplier the host #danger in fiction #danger in fiction 2 #markiplier egos #markiplier tv #the author markiplier #markiplier fan art

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mnt-arts · 12 days

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cannot stop thinking about host & the au im making to kiss him in /silly

reblogs appreciated !

#mnt arts #will also post the blood n angst ones too lol #the author / host x the muse #the muse (dif au)#the host #danger in fiction #markiplier egos #fan art #digital art #self ship #self shipper

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yamchaisawesome · 1 month

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Egg Sucking: The Musical (MatPat X Egg)

MatPat, a day into his pseudo-retirement, was finally able to walk into a grocery store without calculating how many days he could survive in there. That’s when he met it. Pale, smooth, porcelain skin. Oblong in shape, and just the right size to hold in his hand. It was then that he knew who his heart belonged to.

“Hello beautiful”

As he walked to the registry, he decided to do a self checkout. He knew that the cashiers wouldn’t understand, and would make him pay to be with it. Extortion standing in the way of love- he wouldn’t have it. He paid for the rest of his groceries and took his lover home with him.

“How about I take you back to my place?”

Stephanie was confused at first when Matthew suggested a more open arrangement.

“I don’t know... I think I’ll have to meet them first.”

“Oh, you’ll love them. I’ve only known them one day but they’re already very special to me.”

“Okayyy?”

Matt pulled out the egg, presenting it to his wife of 12 years with the utmost sincerity.

“Okay what’s going on?”

“This is them.”

“An… egg?”

“THEY’RE MORE THAN JUST AN EGG STEPHANIE!!!”

“Alright, alright, calm down. Maybe retirement was a bad idea; a day in and you’re already doing, well, whatever this is. You know what? Whatever, not the weirdest thing I’ve seen you do.”

“Trust me, you won’t regret this. Soon you’ll understand them the same way I do.”

He snuck his way up the stairs, with his lover in toe.

“Alright, now I know I’m being forward but-“

In an instant, his lips locked around the egg. His tongue caressed the shell, careful not to crack it. He was a gentle lover, yet passionate and fiery in his approach. His lips pulsating around it, he moaned.

“Sans is Neessss!!!”

“Damn, MatPat pulled out.” Head editor Dan proclaimed from his vantage point in the tree outside MatPat’s house.

After this passionate sucking, he decided to cuddle up with his new lover and fall asleep.

#funny #random shit #important #MatPat #MatPat x egg #MatPat x Stephanie x egg #YouTube #fan fiction #fluff #light smut #tw ;; suggestive #tw;; egg #poly #196 #egg #markiplier #what was I thinking

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faeriescorpio · 11 months

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Slay 🔪

#markiplier #markiplier egos #markiplier ego #mark fischbach #markipliertag #markiplier tag #markiplier ego fanart #markiplier ego fan art #iplier egos #markiplier fan art #the host #host fanart #host fan art #danger in fiction #markipliertv #markiplier tv #markiplier host #markiplier the host

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eddeha-art · 7 months

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youtube

Here’s my new video. And now I vanish to go camping for the weekend. So I’ll see what you guys think later, lmao

#fanfic #Fanfiction #fan fiction #fan fic #markiplier fanfiction #Youtube

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creat0r-cat · 2 years

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Wilford Warfstache x reader - Problems

(Y/n) sat on a bench and checked her phone for the upteenth time, hoping to find some message from her boyfriend explaining why he hadn't arrived for their date. Her lock screen, showing the two of them smiling on the cart of a Ferris wheel, remained bare, not showing any new messages. Such a waste of a happy memory.

Tears began to obstruct (Y/n)'s vision. How many times had this happened before? How many times did she sit at a table or wait outside of a building for a man who would fail to show up?

(Y/n) knew he was toxic and that she should just dump him and save what was left of her heart, but she couldn't bring herself to pull through with the impending break up. He was one of the only people who would actually put up with her weirdness. She should've just walked away.

The (Y/n) and her boyfriend had been dating since highschool, so all together they've been in a relationship for about 7 years. She expected him to propose any day now, but instead of a ring she didn't even get a phone call or a text. He had been pulling away since their freshman year of college. (Y/n) blamed it on exams and their jobs, but now she realized he just didn't care.

As she came to this conclusion she began to cry. (Y/n) pulled up her messaging app and texted him.

(Y/n): I hate you

To her suprise, he texted back a few seconds later.

(Bf/n): What do you mean?

(Y/n): This is the sixth time in a row you've stood me up on a date. I hate you and I'm breaking up with you

(Bf/n): Come on baby, don't be like that

(Bf/n): We can work this out

She blocked his number before she could give a second thought.

"Are you okay, miss. You seem rather upset." A slightly slurred voice behind her asked. (Y/n) turned around and was surprised to see a tall black haired man with a pink mustache looking at her expectantly.

"M-me?"

"Yes you." He said, booping her on the nose. "What's a cute bean like you doing with a frown and tears on your face? And the way you’re dressed up, are you here for a date?" (Y/n) blushed and looked down. "My boyfriend stood me up. He was supposed to meet me here two hours ago and won’t reply to any of my texts or calls. It's not the first time he’s done this either so I broke up with him. I guess I'm just a bit upset."

The strange man sat down beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Well that's understandable, but don't waste tears on a jerk like him. If he didn't care about you, then you don't have to care about him. He just isn't worth it and you deserve better."

Some more tears spilled down (Y/n)'s cheeks and dropped onto the back of her hands. “That’s easy for you to say. He and I were in a relationship for over five years so I can’t just automatically get over him. It’s just not that simple.”

“I understand that. Love is a difficult thing. It makes you blind and at times clouds your judgment.” Explained the man as he turned (Y/n)’s face to look at him. “But when love is lost it doesn’t mean you can’t find it again.”

“But who would love me? I’m weird. It’s a miracle I ever got into a relationship in the first place.” My consoler smirked. “You’re weird? Just look at me. I’m a grown man with a pink mustache and an accent even I can’t recognize, and I’m from America! I don’t think you can get much weirder than that.” (Y/n) laughed softly, though it was almost coughed out because she was nearly choking on her tears.

“Who told you that you couldn’t be loved because you were weird?” He asked suddenly, making (Y/n) go silent again. The man frowned, not asking again but seeming to understand the unsaid answer. “What if I were able to prove that wrong?” She looked toward him again in confusion. “What?

“I won’t force you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with. It’s just a suggestion and I know this sounds crazy, but since you’re already dolled up, why don’t we have a little fun? Y’know.. two weirdos making town?” (Y/n) smirked, wiping the last of her tears away. “Sounds fun, but I don’t even know you. How do I know you aren’t just gonna end up kidnapping and killing me or something like that?”

The man stuck out his hand with a wink. “The name’s Wilford Warfstache and I’ll do my best to not kidnap, kill, or something-like-that you while we’re out together.” (Y/n) laughed, a real laugh this time. “Alright then, Wilford. I’ll trust you just this once. Don’t screw this up for me okay? The name’s (Y/n) (L/n) by the way.”

“I’ll probably screw it up in some way without even trying, just you watch, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) knew it was a little crazy and probably incredibly stupid to trust this man whom she just met, but she needed a bit of sunshine today, and he seemed to be chock full of it. Wilford took her hand in his and led her through town to a quaint little diner. It had a kind of 70’s vibe to it but it was delightful and her new date looked like he felt right at home.

“How do you seem to fit this environment so well?” She asked, looking at him curiously from across the table. “Well, I suppose everyone fits a certain day and age. Mine just happens to be as crazy as me. But what about you? Where do you think you fit in?” (Y/n) thought about it for a minute before deciding. “I think I fit in with the [year of choice (1970-2022)] people. I just feel more comfortable in those clothes and styles.”

When (Y/n) was thinking about the question, Wilford gazed at her. He had to admit, she was incredibly cute. It was nice to have someone else like him in the world. Even if she wasn’t exactly the same, it brought him comfort knowing that he wasn’t entirely alone. After Celine died disappeared, he had felt so empty and alone. He loved her with everything he was and she had fallen through his fingers like sand. But now he had a second chance.

Someone who would give him a chance.

Maybe it would take some time, and the two of them would likely only start off as friends, but Wilford knew (Y/n) was the woman who could finally fill the hole Celine had left behind. He could feel it in his mustache.

As they waited for their food to arrive and even after it did, the two made small talk and learned more about each other. Wilford apparently was a television host and lived in a big house with his many brothers. How many brothers? Well, he didn’t answer that. (Y/n) told him about her own life. How she was a(n) [(older/younger/middle) sister of (number) / only child) and how she had a stable job as a (job description). Wilford listened eagerly, seeming to hang off of every word in anticipation.

(Y/n) was happy that he would even listen. That was more than she ever got from her now ex-boyfriend. And it turned out that she and Wilford had a lot in common. It was nice knowing that there was someone else like her out there. Wilford was right. Just because she lost one relationship, it didn’t mean she couldn’t have another.

When they left the restaurant, the time was only half past one. They had the whole rest of the afternoon to goof off. As more time passed, (Y/n) almost forgot about her ex and was focused on having fun with her new friend. Wilford knew how to cheer her up and he was awfully good at it.

Over time however, she began to notice how sad he looked. Yes, he smiled, but it wasn’t completely genuine. (Y/n) decided to try cheering him up. She took him to a carnival that was in town, something she had planned to do on her date in the first place. She wanted to make sure he was okay so she led him to one of the first rides that caught her eye, and somewhere they could speak in private. (Y/n) led him to the Ferris wheel and they sat opposite of each other in the car.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, looking at him in concern. “What?” He seemed confused. “Something’s bothering you. I can tell. What’s up?” Wilford looked down, his fluffy black hair falling slightly in front of his face, obscuring it from view. “I didn’t realize you were the observing type. Sorry if my attitude is bothering you?” (Y/n) shook her head. “Not at all. You helped me when I was upset. Why shouldn’t I help you?” He smiled a little, seeming to appreciate that. “Thank you, but I don’t want to annoy you with my problems.”

(Y/n) leaned over and took his hand in hers. “You won’t annoy me. I promise. You can tell me what’s going on if you want to.” Wilford looked up and into her eyes. When was the last time someone had willingly listened to him? Yes, he had held meetings with his brothers and forced them to hear out his ideas, but here was (Y/n) asking and pleading for him to let out his pain.

Tears came to his eyes and they slipped out before he could potentially stop them. The Ferris wheel car stopped at the top, rocking back and forth gently for a few seconds before becoming still. Wilford began to speak, his breathing burdened and choked.

“I can’t accurately remember the last time I had this much fun with someone. I mean, I remember bits of exciting parties and events I’ve been to with my brothers and a few friends, though I can’t necessarily call them my friends. It’s just that.. well.. the last girl I took out on a kind of date is gone. She never broke up with me, but she’s gone. I know Celine is dead, but I don’t want to accept it. Before you, she was the last person to really treat me like a sane human being. But I’m not. I’m not sane. I’ve done so many horrible things in my life and, because of how I am, people don’t take me seriously. And who can blame them? I’m Wilford Motherloving Warfstache the pink mustached weirdo! Or have I switched names I’ve forgotten my real one? I don’t know anymore..”

(Y/n) was a bit overwhelmed by this new information, but took pity on the poor man. She walked over to his side of the car and gave him a large hug. He let out a choked sob and clung to her like a child with his mother. “I’m so sorry..” He whimpered into her shoulder. “I’ve ruined everything. I was supposed to cheer you up and here I am dampening the mood.”

“You’ve made me so happy, Wilford. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. I’m so sorry that your card hand of life is so awful. I’m sorry that Celine is gone. She sounds wonderful and I have no doubt that even in death she still loves you so much. You deserve such good things and even though you don’t see it now, know that it’ll get better. Don’t give up on yourself just yet.”

Wilford looked up at her, his eyes slightly red and puffy, but slowly returning to their normal state. “Y-you really mean that?” (Y/n) smiled and leaned forward, kissing his forehead gently. “Every single word.” He hugged her again and breathed a rattled sigh of relief. “Thank you. Thank you so much, (Y/n). You don’t realize how much that means to me.”

“We weirdos have to stick together, don’t we?” she asked, giggling as he smiled and booped her on the nose, just like he did when they first met. “That’s true. Thanks for the reminder, gumdrop.” He wiped the last of his tears away and the Ferris wheel car continued in descent until it reached the bottom and the door opened for the two of them.

“Well, shall we?” Wilford offered his hand out and she took it, the two of them exiting the ride and joining the crowd outside.

All hints of sadness were gone as they enjoyed their evening. After many roller coasters, booth games, unhealthy but delicious food, and prizes later, they left the carnival and headed toward their car. The sun was going down, bathing the world in a beautiful orange color. Wilford had his arm around (Y/n)’s shoulder as they walked together, laughing and holding bags of cotton candy and some stuffed animals. It was the perfect evening.

“Hey, (Y/n)! Babe, is that you?” She recognized that voice and she turned toward it. There, running toward her, was her ex, (Bf/n). “What are you doing here?” She asked while Wilford glared at the new man. “What am I doing here? Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over the place for you! And who the heck is that? Are you seriously so sad after “breaking up with me” that you’ll take random street bums out?”

Wilford wasn’t just glaring at (Bf/n) now, he was getting up in his chest. “I beg your pardon. I have a name y’know, and at least this “random street bum” is actually able to keep a date rather than blow it off. Also, she did actually dump you. Get your facts right.” (Y/n) watched this go down and she wasn’t sure if she should step in or not.

(Bf/n) growled angrily. “I wasn’t talking to you, freak. Listen, (Y/n). I’m going to make it up to you. You don’t have to go and tear up your reputation anymore than you do already by going out with this 80’s screw up. He doesn’t even actually care about you anyway, weirdo.”

As he reached to take hold of her arm, she slapped his hand away and glared at him. “First of all, he has a 70’s style. Second of all, you have no right to demand that I go with you. You’re a toxic person who doesn’t deserve me. I deserve much better than you, and Wilford is that better. I’m over you. And, yes, I’m weird. Get over it.”

(Bf/n) looked like he was going to blow a blood vessel. “Why you little-” He tried to grab her again, only to back away as Wilford pointed a pistol in his direction. “Don’t you dare lay a hand on her. I will shoot whether you ask me to or not.”

“You’re crazy..” (Y/n)’s ex whimpered as he held his hands in the air, surrendering.

“I get that a lot.” Said Wilford with a sneer. “(Y/n) get away from him.” pleaded (Bf/n), but she didn’t do as she was told and instead clung to Wilford’s arm. “The thing is, I feel safer with him than I do with you so.. no.”

She took Wilford’s hand in hers and walked away and over to their car. “Ah yes. Our victory chariot!” She said, laughing and sliding into the passenger’s seat. (Bf/n) didn’t move from his spot and instead just stared at the two of them as they drove away. Wilford was shocked that (Y/n) didn’t freak out that he had a gun.

“Hey, was that pistol loaded?” She asked, looking at him as they stopped at a red light. “Uh.. yeah. I always carry around a loaded pistol.” She shrugged and leaned back in her chair. “Cool. Guns are fun.” Wilford couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. Yeah they are.”

The rest of the ride was filled with a comfortable silence as he drove her home, (Y/n) pointing out the way. When they arrived, (Y/n) turned back to look at him in worry. “I just realized that we drove my car all the way here. How are you gonna get back to your house?” Wilford smiled and winked. “It’s not that far, just a snap and poof away.”

“Are you sure? Do you need to call someone so they can pick you up?”

“Nope! Don’t worry, sweetie.”

(Y/n) blushed and shrugged. “Alright. Whatever you say. Thanks again for this evening. It was amazing.” Her new date gave her a mustache covered grin as he bowed. “It was my pleasure.”

A thought occurred to her suddenly and she shuffled nervously. “Do you, maybe, want to do this again sometime? Y’know, without the exes and stuff like that?”

That was an offer Wilford hadn’t expected to receive, but he was delighted to agree. He felt so happy. Happier than he had been in a long time. “Alright then,” Said (Y/n) giving him a kiss on the cheek and turning back to enter her house. “See you around Wilford!”

At the sound of a snap, she turned around to see a small cloud of pink smoke and glitter fade into thin air. “Woah. I guess it really was a snap and a poof away.” She knew he was a bit crazy, but honestly, so was she. That day, both of them had met the person who made them feel whole again. And they were both weirdos with problems.

Who else would they have been?

#wilford warfstache #wilford x reader #Wilford x female reader #Wilford Warfstache x female reader #Iplier egos x reader #Iplier egos #Markiplier egos #Iplier fan fiction #wilfordmotherlovingwarfstache #x reader #markiplier egos #fluff #angst

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theknightmarket · 1 year

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Key

Here, you can find a compilation of all the one-shots I've written (linked) so far and am planning to write (italics).

Actor Mark:

Why Would I Work With You?

Sometimes I Wonder What You Saw in Me

Being Dead Really Isn't Working For You

Damien:

Do You Want to do This Again Sometime?

You're Too Stubborn to Die

What if I Just Sit Here and Die?

It's Just Not Easy

You Look Tired

Dark:

Eat Your Young

What Do You Get Out of This?

Oh, Please, Save Me

Choke on it

I'm Glad it was You

Wilford:

What Day is it?

Yancy:

What Can I Say? I'm a Badass

Came for the Accent, Stayed for the Crisis

Did I Scare Youse?

Illinois:

You’re On

Berlin, 1996

Engineer:

We've Made it This Far

Murdock:

Chase Me

God of Night:

My Own Little Worshipper

Heist:

Do You Promise?

Google:

You're the Most Handsome Person I've Ever Seen

Hello, Google

In Another Life, I Think I was in a Mental Institution

Bing:

In Another Life, I Think I was in a Mental Institution

Bump in the Night (Ghosts AU)

Chapter 1 : 'You Were an Oh-So-Generous Imbecile'

The Ones Fans Came up With / 'Homebrew':

Lord Dimitrescu - I Could Take Him

Knightiplier - What Are Rules For?

#key #theknightmarket #fan fiction guide #guide #markiplier #markiplier egos x reader #markiplier egos #writing

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your-local-weird-frogs · 11 months

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#who killed markiplier #wilford warfstache #william j barnum #celine the seer #markiplier cinematic universe #fan-fiction

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d-ama-ien · 2 years

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The Mirror

My body is shaking, or maybe it’s the little window I have left into the real world that trembles, another crack branching across it. The same thought runs through my head again, and again, how could he, how could he, how could he do something like this when he claimed to love me?

Thoughts of Y/N as they adjust to the void after the events of Who Killed Markiplier

Read on AO3 or below the cut

At the time, things seemed hopeless.

How could they leave me here? How could he leave me here?

…

How could they leave me here?

I won’t let him. He doesn’t get to walk away from this, from me, especially not in my own fucking body-

I need to calm down. I can’t give up. They left me with a view, with his cane. We were made for each other. I was made for our love. I was certainly made for more than being trapped for an eternity, at least. Even if my love has crumbled, my life hasn’t.

I won’t let them turn my name to dust.

Unfortunately, getting yourself out of a magical possessed void was harder than it sounded. But, slowly, I learned things. I figured out what I could control, what I could create, the things I could do-

It turns out I was capable of many things, with the power of the void. Or maybe I was capable of it all this time, only able to unlock it now that I’ve faced myself and truly seen what I am, what I have to offer.

I had a world to offer, a life, and it was taken away by the person I offered it to.

But it’s fine. I can give him more now.

I can do more now.

He loved things that aren’t a part of me anymore. Things that were weak and stupid and believed the many sweet things he said. He loved my heart, the empathy I had, the gentle kindness I extended to those I helped through my work.

I loved those things about myself once.

Those aren’t traits I recognize in myself anymore.

My heart that used to be open is closed, wrapped in cracked sheets of glass and an endless void that looks like the night sky once your eyes adjust to it. Beautiful in its darkness, in its overwhelming, overbearing presence. Beautiful in its cold emptiness, in its clarity.

I’ve learned through the years-

The days.

The months?

I’ve learned the importance of avoiding the light, of keeping the limited endless world around me dim. The light brings things I don’t want to see, a warmth that burns if I try to feel.

I know now to keep the lights low, the warmth far away.

I used to watch out the mirror, my own personal window into a world I could no longer be a part of. I watched the dust collect, and then I watched new people enter, and I watched how they smiled and embraced. They were young and in love, and they were overjoyed at the start of their new life together. And I watched as new cracks splintered across the surface, starting as delicate spiderwebs and hairline fractures before splintering and spreading into deep trenches as shards fell and shattered on the floor.

I lost my window that day, but it’s for the best.

I know the darkness better, it wraps around me in a comfortable way the light never could. I can cloak myself in it easily, morph it around me and bend it to my will.

I can create things.

It doesn’t mean anything.

Nothing means anything, nothing has meant anything since he left me here.

I’d burn this prison to ash to see him again, I swear it to myself-

Despite the flame flickering at my fingertips, I never do it.

I wish I could say it was the oppressive air, or lack thereof, or that it was an illusion and not a real flame, that it wasn’t my fault I couldn’t escape.

But I had spent too long staring into the void and having it stare back into me. Lying to myself was a moot point. So I tell myself the familiar platitude as I extinguish my latest flame.

“Creatures of the darkness know how to keep the lights low,”

The flame in my hand extinguishes in an instant, a slight puff of smoke the only trace of its existence left.

“I know how to bide my time,” I finish.

My voice isn’t human.

The realization should surprise me, I think, but I’ve known it for a long time. Humanity doesn’t survive in the void. I do. And, whatever I used to be, I am not human.

A human can’t live so long. Has it been that long?

It feels like it. I haven’t exactly been able to keep track though, with nothing but infinite night surrounding me infinitely. Would keeping track make any of this better? I doubt it, but it’s an interesting thought to ponder. I spend a lot of time pondering, and experimenting, and pondering some more. It’s about the only thing I am able to fill my time with at this point.

I could leave.

But I can’t leave yet.

So I’ll stay and ponder.

It’s never long before my thoughts return to him- the one that left me. The one that glowered at me before disappearing from my view, leaving me to rot in a personal hell.

We were in love once.

Were we in love?

We might’ve been, but I’m not sure I can say the same thing anymore. How can you love someone who hurt you so deeply? How can you love someone who left and hasn’t come back? How can you love when your heart has iced over?

I’m not in love.

I hate him. I’ve hated him since the moment he left me here, him and his most darling sister stealing from me and leaving me like I’m nothing. Like it wasn’t my body they were walking away with.

You can’t love something like that. Maybe that’s why I haven’t left. There’s nothing out there for me. No love, no friends, family, not even my job would be waiting for me at this point.

“Why leave?” I ask, just to entertain my ears, or maybe to check that they still function. Sometimes it’s hard to tell in the endless silence.

“Why would you stay?”

Hm. That’s new.

Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised to hear him. I know it’s him, even with the inhuman distortion, I’d never mistake his voice for another. He came from the void, it makes sense he could come back.

Which makes it more surprising to hear him, actually, because, “If you could come back why haven’t you until now?”

Something crackles and screams for a moment before quieting. His form is unstable. I almost snicker- what poetic justice for the twins to take a body they can’t even keep in line.

“Navigating the void isn’t easy for anyone, I didn’t know how to get back here.”

He says it like it’s the truth. He always sounded so genuine.

I wish I could let myself believe him.

I wish I could let myself see him. Why can’t I face him?

He says my name, gently, the same way you’d speak to a spooked animal.

“You should go,” I answer.

He says my name again, more insistent, and I know he’s approaching, reaching for me.

“You should go,” I repeat sternly, flame dancing at my fingertips before spreading up my arms, engulfing me to my elbows.

He touches my shoulder, pleading this time as he repeats my name.

“Damien,” the name burns on my tongue, “I’m leaving.”

I pull away, turning to face him as I unleash my flame, surrounding the two of us. He looks just like he did that day, grey and cold, strange red and blue apparitions moving disjointed from the movements of his body. For a second, bathed in the light surrounding us, he looks how he did in life.

Warm, gentle, soft.

Things neither of us are.

The fire spreads in an instant, flowing along a floor I can’t see, surrounding us in a bubble of light and heat.

Then, in a blink, nothing.

I’m on the ground, disoriented, feeling the familiar itch of grass on my exposed skin and staring up at pieces of a night sky through a sea of leaves.

I’m not in the void, I observe first.

Second, I observe that Damien isn’t here.

Good.

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