#wwoww au story

[wwoww-au]

A Day in the Spotlight

“Thank you all for watching this episode of ‘Disc of Wishes’! New episodes every Saturday at ten! I’m your host, Bim Trimmer, and I’ll be back tomorrow with the Live Special of this, the world’s most popular show, right after these messages!”

Dark woke up in a very bright room with the second worst headache they’d ever had pounding at their skull. A vanity sat in the opposite corner, framed by large glowing bulbs, with a red velvet cushioned stool placed in front of it. A clothing rack sat in the adjacent corner to Dark, filled with several black suits and a few colorful ones. The sound of the tv hanging off the wall over the mirror wasn’t helping with the headache much, and of course it had to be tuned to-

Bim Trimmer. The memories came flooding back. That damned magician Marvin had given them a lead on Warfstache, and Dark and Abe were sent to find Bim’s studio. They went to a seemingly abandoned building, and then… did they pass out? Where were they? Where was Abe?

The door burst open and in strode the one, the only, Mr. Trimmer himself. He sauntered over to the vanity mirror and slid into his seat, letting out a huge sigh as he started to fix up his makeup and hair.

“Hey! You! What the hell is going on?” Dark yelled. They tried to stand up from the director’s chair they were sitting in, but found themself unable to move. They glanced down as they moved to get up again, only to see a ring of purple sparks flaring around their chest and arms, binding them to the chair.

“Oh yes!” Bim exclaimed, as if he had forgotten Dark’s presence. “Our dear guest! Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about you. You’ll be on in just a minute, so you'd better get ready!” He stood up from the vanity and moved in front of Dark. He leaned down a bit so they were face-to-face, noses practically touching, and his face twisted into an unnaturally wide smile filled with sharp teeth. “I have to say, I’m very excited to finally meet you. I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time, ever since you made your debut at the Crime Department. You peaked my interest. It’s a shame really, the Committee wasting something as special as you on catching a common criminal. But I can give you the spotlight you deserve.”

“What are you-? Just let me go! Where’s Abe? And where’s Warfstache?”

“No time to be thinking about that now, Darkie! You’ve got more important things to worry about.” Bim patted Dark’s face in an almost kind gesture, and then moved back to the vanity; picking up a familiar object and twirling it in his hands.  “Like this cane of yours! Beautiful woodwork, lovely piece really- I can see why you would want it.”

Panic and anger flooded Dark’s mind as they saw him holding their cane. He couldn’t have it, it was given to them. It belonged to them. They started struggling even more, pushing against the magical bonds as hard as they could. “Give that BACK!”

“Well, if you want it so badly, I’m sure we could make a deal for it,” Bim hummed, a hungry look in his eyes.

“A deal?” Dark snapped, fury burning in their eyes. “It’s not even yours! If you don’t give it back right now, I swear I’ll-”

Bim turned to Dark, over-dramatic offense written all over his face. “You break into my studio, insult me, and expect me to just hand you a valuable object of mine? I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a rush, so if that’s how you’re going to be then I’m going to have to get rid of this little trinket you seem so fond of.” He raised the cane in both hands, moving to smash it against the vanity.

“WAIT! Stop! I’ll do the deal, what do you want?!” Dark knew what he wanted, and they knew this was a bad idea. They knew what happened to people who made a deal with Bim Trimmer, but they didn’t have much of a choice. It was that, or.... they didn’t want to consider the alternative.

“Great! Wonderful! Fantastic!” Bim was beaming now, and tossed the cane in the air, catching it easily in the other hand. “You’re on in five, dear. Do your best, but don’t try too hard!”

Dark tried to say something, but before they could get a word out they suddenly found themself in a completely different room, and their splitting headache gone. They were standing behind a podium, and another purple ring of magic was preventing their feet from moving. Two other people stood to their left and right, one who looked rather calm, and the other who seemed very nervous. A curtain separated all of them from where Dark presumed the audience sat, and a large screen hung on the wall opposite it.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and all other configurations of being, welcome to the wizarding world’s favorite show, Disc of Wishes!” Bim’s voice echoed all around the studio, followed by a chorus of cheers and applause. “The only show where you get a chance at winning anything you desire! I’m your host, Bim Trimmer, and here are the contestants!”

The curtain rose, and Dark found themself facing a full audience of laughing and cheering people. They all had unnaturally wide smiles, but Dark thought they could see a few of them crying. All of them, wizards and mundane, had been tricked into participating. Their only way out was to compete in the game show and win, something that was highly unlikely given the situation, and even if it did Bim would still never let them leave. And if they lost…

“First up we have, Mat!” Bim appeared next to the contestant on Dark’s left, wrapping his arm around the calm-looking man. “Hailing from somewhere-or-other, he’s a Life wizard who just wants his wife and kid back! Now isn’t that sweet? We all love a good dad, don’t we? Next up we have Ryan! Who, uh, I don’t know what he wants but that doesn’t really matter. And finally we have our very special guest from the Wizard Committee itself, Dark!” A chorus of applause and cheers went up from the audience as Bim leaned in closer to them, placing an arm over their shoulder and pulling them close to him.

“Can you hear them?” Bim whispered, sending a chill down Dark’s spine. “They're begging to be in your place. They all want what you have. The thrill of death being only seconds away. How does the spotlight feel, Dark? Do you feel that rush, that delicious feeling of fear? I hope you do. It makes the soul that much... tastier.” He licked his teeth before leaning back and suddenly appearing on his special podium. Dark felt another shiver run down their spine. They were in extreme mortal danger, and they weren’t sure how they were going to get out.

“Now, my lovely viewers, let’s begin!” Bim pressed a button on his podium, jagged smile as wide as his face as lights lit up the contestants’ scoreboard and landed on the the Life wizard. Bim certainly didn’t look like he was evil, but Dark knew that they had very little chance of getting out of there alive.

“Mat! You’re up first, why don’t you give that wheel a spin?” Mat stepped up to the wheel, calm demeanor dropping for a brief moment. He raised his arms, grabbing hold onto the wheel and pulling down as hard as he could. The wheel spun and spun, until finally it landed on green.

“Ooh, green! What an interesting choice.” Bim pulled out a green card from seemingly nowhere. “Your first question is, how many known corrupted wizards are in the world at this very moment?”

Dark was focused. They had to get out of this place at any cost; they couldn’t lose, no matter what, even though winning didn’t guarantee anything. All it meant was that they would be put in the audience until the next week when the show aired again, and even then there was a chance of not being selected to participate. The most they could do was stall for time while they tried to figure a way out.

Dark slammed their hand down on the button provided, lighting up their podium first. Of course they knew the answer to this. They had to, as part of their job. “2876,” they said confidently. There was no way they could get this wrong.

“And you are wrong!” Bim announced, his mouth pulling down in an over-exaggerated frown. “Would anyone like to go for the steal? Ryan? No? Well, that’s too bad!” A buzzer went off, indicating that time was up. “The correct answer is 2877! Ooh, that’s a bit embarrassing now, isn’t it?” The audience laughed. Someone yelled a comment about how Dark was an idiot. Dark themself was confused. Surely there couldn’t have been a new corruption case, right? They’d only been there for less than a day.

“And now for the next question- Ryan, would you spin the Disc of Wishes?” Mat walked back behind his podium, muttering random facts to himself to refresh his memory as Ryan spun the wheel.

“Ooh, and looks like it’s blue this time! And your second question is… ‘How many corrupted souls are in this room?’”

Dark buzzed in again. They hesitated for a moment, before locking eyes with Bim. “Two,” they said, their confident voice wavering ever so slightly.

“Now, now, Dark, I really thought you’d be better at this,” Bim shook his head in a dramatic fashion, a look of smug satisfaction on his face. “We both know that answer is… incorrect!” His voice boomed with enthusiasm, prompting an equally enthusiastic round of jeers from the audience. Bim posed dramatically before moving on. “Alright, folks. Next up is an elimination round! Next contestant to get a question wrong is out of the game! Dark, you’re up! Spin the wheel and decide their fate!”

Dark moved around their podium, the magic holding them in place removed just long enough for them to participate in this part of the game. They stepped up to the wheel. They were safe for this round, but who knew how much longer it would last? They spun the wheel, and then immediately walked back to their podium. They wanted to keep as much space between themself and the show’s host as possible. As soon they arrived back to their spot, the wheel stopped.

“Red!” called out Bim. “Your question is a simple mundane history question, so good luck!” Ryan buzzed in before Bim could read the question. “Eager, are we? Ah well, here’s your question.‘What are the exact coordinates of where the third cousin of the person who invented toothpaste is buried?’”

“W-wait…” Ryan managed to stutter out before getting cut off by Bim.

“Time’s up! Sorry, Ryan, but you didn’t answer my question fast enough! You have been eliminated!” He dramatically pressed another button on his podium, causing a trapdoor beneath Ryan’s feet to open up. His screams were drowned out by the cheering audience. “I’ll be seeing you after the show,” Bim muttered in a satisfied tone to himself, eyeing the trapdoor with a hungry look. Dark stared down at the empty space as it quickly closed. They felt a pang of guilt for the poor mundane. Knowing the horror stories they’d heard of Bim at the Crime Department, Ryan was practically already dead.

“Oh well, he tried his best, though it was still pretty bad.” Bim said, checking his nails to highlight his disinterest. “The show must go on, so let’s move on to the next round!” He placed his hands on the podium, casually brushing up against another button. A chime from above the stage ran out, prompting a knowing round of applause from the lucid audience. Feigning surprise, Bim let out a dramatic gasp.

“You know what this means!” he excitedly shouted. “We get another elimination round!” Dark gripped the sides of their own podium, their anxiety about the game flaring up again. They had to get this next question right to make it to the finale, but that would also mean leaving their opponent to their very certain death. Dark glanced over at Mat, who was tightly gripping his own podium, before snapping their attention back to Bim. They had to focus. They couldn’t worry about Mat now, no matter how much it pained them. They had to get out alive, by any means necessary.

“Mat! Your turn at the wheel again!” Bim announced, the contestant shakily walking up to the wheel, giving it a weak spin. “Oh, pink! One of my favorite colors!” The host grinned as Mat shuffled back to his podium, hands shaking. “Your questions is, who is backstage right now?”

Dark was taken aback. What kind of question was that? They hadn’t had the chance to see the backstage area, as they were teleported directly onto the stage. They looked at the wheel again, and it hit them. Maybe Marvin was right after all. They hit the buzzer.

“Warfstache! Wilford Warfstache!” Dark shouted. Bim smirked before snapping his fingers, prompting the screen opposite the curtain to flicker to life, revealing footage from the backstage area. And sure enough, there was Wilford; wearing a bright pink suit under his trenchcoat and standing by a table covered in ornate food. He glanced up and waved to the camera.

“Correct!” Bim grinned, turning to the screen. “Will, darling, do you really have to wear that gaudy coat to cover your suit?” Wilford’s only response was to shrug and stuff a sizzling barbecued hot dog in his mouth. “Well, everything looks good on you anyways so it-” Bim interrupted himself by clearing his throat and looking away from the screen, fumbling as he searched for the right button.

The screen finally shut off, and Bim turned his attention back to his captives. “Since Dark correctly guessed the answer, I’m sorry, Mat. This is the end of the line for you!” He dramatically pressed one of the buttons again, and just like that, Dark was trapped alone onstage with the most prolific serial killer in wizard history.

“Now isn’t this exciting, folks? One contestant left, and I know I’ll be having a hearty meal tonight. But before we continue, let’s have a short break, after which we’ll have a word from today’s very special sponsor! See you soon!” The curtains closed as the audience cheered once again. Bim stretched out, before walking over and leaning on the podium in front of Dark, inches away from their face again. “Oh that was a wonderful performance. I have to say, I’m really killing it out there!”

Dark kept their composure as the madman leaned in close. “You’re insane.” Bim paused at this, his signature smile fading for the first time since they met.  

“Enjoy your break, Dark,” Bim snapped, lips curling in a malicious fanged grin. “You might not be so lucky in the next round.” He stalked off, disappearing behind a curtain. Dark felt the weight lift from their feet and looked down. The magical barrier keeping them in place was lifted. They took the opportunity to run after Bim, pushing back the curtain. They found themselves in the backstage area, Bim already missing from sight. They did however, spot a figure clad in pink, leaning over the buffet.

“You!” Dark cried out, running toward the confused thief. They raised their fist to attack, only to find themselves frozen in place, inches from Warfstache. They glanced sideways at their arm, trapped in place by the same purple energy as earlier.

“Now, now, Dark,” Bim called out from behind them, placing a hand on their immobile shoulder. “You can’t just go around trying to hurt my guests! How impolite!”

“Let. Me. Go.” they hissed through gritted teeth.

“Only if you promise not to attack my, ah, friend here,” Bim crooned, leaning on their shoulder and twirling a strand of Dark’s hair around his finger. Dark shuddered at the unwanted contact.

“Fine.”

“Wonderful!” Bim cheered, and with a flourish of his hand, Dark was free to move again. They took a couple steps back from Bim and rubbed their wrist, still stinging from direct exposure to the corrupted magic. Bim had already wandered somewhere else, no doubt checking his appearance in the dressing room again. They faced down their old foe once more, who had somehow found a martini at the buffet table. He simply stared back at Dark, until they broke the silence.

“For someone who keeps insisting that they’re not a criminal, you sure keep some questionable company,” Dark huffed, crossing his arms.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” Wilford raised the glass to take a sip, finding it once again stuck on his mustache, as it always seemed to be.

“Oh please, first that ridiculous conman, and now with.. with fucking Wizard Satan?! You do know what he does to people who lose at his stupid little game show, right? He consumes their souls!” Dark shouted, frustrated at how nonchalant Wilford was about all this. “And who knows what he even does with the bodies, I mean…” they trailed off, running a hand through their hair. “Ugh, I don’t have time for this. I just have to get out of here and contact Abe, then I can go back to chasing you.”

Wilford shrugged in response. “Seems like you have this all planned out.”

“Yeah, well, I still have to win the game, which I know for certain is rigged against me.” They glanced down, spotting a flash of gold from inside Wilford’s coat. “You could always make this easier for me if you just handed over the Time Wand.”

“Not a chance.”

“It was worth a shot,” Dark mumbled. “What are you doing here anyways?”

“Who knows?” he shrugged again. “Bim invited me to watch the filming. He also mentioned getting dinner after the show but he seemed really nervous so who knows what that was about…” Dark stared at him for a moment before realizing what he meant. They let out a tired sigh and pinched the bridge of their nose.

“Oh.. my god…” they muttered. “Of course you two are da-”

“Five minutes to showtime!” Bim announced as he strode back into the room. He stopped behind Dark, grabbing their shoulders and massaging them a bit, like a cat kneading its prey. “I am so looking forward for the finale, aren’t you? It’s going to be a show to die for!”

“I’m thrilled,” they said, their words dripping with sarcasm. They took a deliberate step forward, shoving their captor’s hands away as they turned to face him. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit!” Bim clasped his hands together, chuckling a bit to himself. “We’re back on soon, so why don’t you get yourself back onstage?” He made shooing motions for Dark to leave, and as they started to he walked very close behind them. They tried to walk faster to get to a comfortable distance away, but the creep stayed only a couple steps behind them the entire time. They had just barely stepped into place behind their podium before the magic restraints once more bound their feet in place, and the curtain rose to reveal the cheering audience members.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to  this special episode of Disc! Of! WISHES! I’m your host, Bim Trimmer, and we have a very special sponsor for today’s episode! He should be waking up about now...” Bim announced. Dark wasn’t paying much attention. The ‘sponsor’ bit usually featured the previous episode’s winner, or the latest detective from the team assigned on a suicide mission to stop Bim.

“Let me introduce to you, the Wizard Committee’s very own Head of the Crime Department, Abe Lincoln! Let’s give him a round of applause, everybody!” The screen on the wall opposite the curtain lit up again, once more showing footage of a banquet table. But this time it was in what looked to be a kitchen, and it was covered in what looked like cooked meat. Abe was sitting slumped in a chair next to it, strapped down by the same magic keeping Dark at their podium. The audience cheered. He groggily sat up, eyes widening when he realized where he was. He thrashed against the restraints. Dark could tell that he was yelling something, but the camera feed didn’t have any sound.

A look of pure panic washed over Dark’s face, followed by one of anger. They gripped their podium, and pointed at Bim with a shaky hand.

“I swear if you hurt him, I’ll-” they spat before being interrupted.

“I wouldn’t dream of hurting my special guest!” Bim laughed, placing a hand over his heart. “I’m not a monster, Dark!” Dark wasn’t so sure of that, but they weren’t really in a position to be arguing. “Now, Abe, darling, you must be absolutely starving! It has been two days after all, and you haven’t eaten a thing.”

Dark and Abe both went wide-eyed with shock. Two days? Dark shook his head. It couldn’t be. They’d only arrived a few hours ago. It was still Thursday, wasn’t it? It had to be, Bim’s show only aired on— Dark let out a groan. Bim’s show aired on Saturdays. They eyed the large, glowing block letters over Bim’s head that read, “Disc of Wishes: LIVE!”

“What will you start with, Abe?” Bim asked excitedly, eyes scanning the feast layed out in front of the detective as if he were the one starving, and not his guest. “Given your core, I’m sure you’d love the pig heart in gelatin. Perhaps, though, the duck confit? Or the cassoulet? What will it be?”

Abe eyed the dishes placed in front of him, looking as though he were seriously considering tasting one of the still-warm dishes. Dark looked them over as well, though with more suspicion than interest. Something didn’t sit right with them about the ornate meat spread.

Dark’s gaze landed on the ‘pig heart in gelatin,’ as Bim had called it. Abe had reached forward and pulled the dish towards himself, and was holding a fork over it, trying to figure out the best angle to go at the large portion.

Dark’s heart skipped a beat as they got a better look at the heart. They’d seen pig’s heart. They’d had it a few times at fancy parties. Whatever Abe was hesitantly scooping onto his fork was not pig’s heart, and suddenly Dark knew what Bim did with the bodies.

“Abe, wait!” Dark cried out loud enough for their voice to be heard backstage by Abe, making both him and Bim look at them. “That’s not pig, that’s human!”

Abe eyes went wide with shock as he gagged and spat the meat back into the dish, face turning green as he put a hand over his mouth.

Bim frowned. “Well, aren’t you one to ruin surprises,” he huffed, glaring down at Dark. “I was going to tell him later, but I suppose I could tell him now, since you were a bit impatient.”

“Tell him what?” Dark asked nervously. “He already knows that’s not a pig’s heart.” What else was there to say?

“Well, his core isn’t the only connection dear Abe has to this particular heart,” Bim explained. Abe looked down at the heart and back up at the screen. “I believe the fellow’s name was… oh, what was it? Ah, I remember! Evets Anderson.” Dark could see the color drain from Abe’s face. “I believe he was an old partner of yours, wasn’t he? Lovely contestant. He would have won, if it wasn’t for that tricky math question.”

Dark watched Abe’s eyes roll back in his head. The detective slumped over in his seat, passed out from shock. Bim frowned with disappointment.

“I’m coming for you, Abe!” Dark cried out, leaning forward. “Just hold on a little longer!”

“Don’t worry Dark, you’ll be joining him soon enough, in one way or another!” Bim laughed, clapping his hands together and turning to address the audience. “Now, we have a game to finish! Since this is our grand finale, we have some special rules! I will ask our last contestant a series of personal questions, to see how much they really know about themselves. If they get three wrong, they lose!”

Bim didn’t even bother with the wheel this time around, instead simply whipping out a white card covered in golden glitter. The audience waited with baited breath.

“And your first question is… ‘Who was the last person you dated?’ Ooh, now isn’t this an interesting one?” Bim leaned forwards on his podium, resting his head on one hand and the other hand on his hip, smirking self-righteously.

Dark stopped. They knew these questions were going to be rigged, but they didn’t think they were going to be this hard. They had almost run out of time before they realized they had to answer.

“No one,” they said, fingers pressing hard against their podium, violent red sparks beginning to form at the tips. They just had to gather enough power, and then they could break free.

“No one? Are you sure? Well, I’m very happy to say, you are incorrect!” Bim laughed, and so did the audience. Dark cursed under their breath, prompting Bim to suddenly appear next to them and place a finger on their lips. “Ah aahh, this is a family friendly show, Darkling!”

“Now, dear viewers for the next question!” Bim announced, reappearing back at his podium. He produced another card, this time having to shake off the large pile of glitter. Some of it managed to find its way to Dark, who shifted backwards to avoid it, while trying not to reveal that they had almost gotten one foot loose from the magical restraints.

“What is the worst pain you have ever felt?” This question made Dark stop and think. What was the worst pain they’d ever felt? Mental pain? Physical? They’d gotten hurt a lot over the years, but if they had to pick…

“…Being tu-… no, I can’t… that time on a case when I broke a leg. I had to walk with my cane for weeks.”

“Ah yes, your cane, the one you are so close to winning back. Unfortunately, you are incorrect! You almost answered correctly too, you were so close!” Bim flashed a sharp toothy grin. “That's strike two, Darkie! One more and you're out!”

Dark gritted their teeth. They were this close to breaking free, they just had to get this last one right and they could do it.

“Now for your next question! Be careful, it may be your last! What is… your real name?” Bim leaned on his podium, hand hovering over the panel of buttons. Dark was taken aback, it was such a simple yet impossible question to answer. They settled back, pulling at their coat.

“It's Dark,” they said with a flat tone.

“That is incorrect!” Bim chuckled. “However, I'm feeling quite generous tonight. I'll give you another shot to answer the question, truthfully this time. Now tell me, what is your real name?” he punctuated each word with a drum of his fingers on the podium. It was obvious he could hardly contain his excitement.

“My name is Dark,” they answered, bracing their arm against the podium. They almost had their other foot free. If they could just last a few more seconds they’d be able to run. Maybe they could go through the audience, or backstage, or make a detour to punch that creepy fucker in the face. On second thought, they wanted to get as far away from him as possible. The sooner they could find Abe and get out of this studio, the better.

“Incorrect again, ‘Dark’. I wish I could say I was disappointed, but this is an opportunity I simply can't pass up.” Bim smiled wider than what seemed humanly possible, showing off each sharp tooth, and Dark could swear they could see his eyes shine brighter in a purple hue. “You lose! Thank you for playing Disc of Wishes! See you soon!” He lifted his arm high up in the air before bringing his finger down on the button.

In the split second before the trap door opened, there was a blinding explosion of red, blue, and purple light. Bim stumbled back, shielding his eyes.

“What the hell?!” Bim yelled. Dark had no time to hesitate, they sprinted from the podium, tearing away the curtain to backstage, the audience's boos and screams drowning out into the background.

Dark grinned as they turned around the corner to Bim’s dressing room. Cane first, then Abe, and then they could finally get out of this damned studio. They would never have to see Bim’s face again, and they could get back to chasing after Wilford.

Just as Dark reached the dressing room door, they felt a tug in their chest, and suddenly they were being yanked backwards, dragged back towards the stage. They tried to grab onto nearby objects to stop themself, or dig their heels into the ground to at least slow down, but to no avail. Before they could figure out what was going on or how to stop it, they were thrust back onto the now empty stage, directly under a large spotlight.

“That was quite the escape attempt!” Bim laughed. “I must say, I’m quite impressed with your little trick! However, you did lose, and rules are rules!”

Dark was helpless as a large hole opened up beneath them, and they were plunged into darkness. The last thing they saw before they lost consciousness was Bim’s illuminated face, smiling down at them.

.

.

.

Dark woke up tied to another director’s chair. This time, however, they weren’t in Bim’s dressing room. The area around them was pitch black, only interrupted by a few illuminated cages of various sizes, a couple of which held dead or dying animals. The cages to Dark’s left and right held Mat and Ryan respectively, but they didn’t seem to be themselves anymore. Both of them stood motionless in the centers of their cages, eyes half closed and lightless. They both looked like mindless, soulless… husks…

Dark felt the blood drain from their face as they realized where they were. This was where the contestants went. Where they all, one by one, lost their souls to Bim Trimmer. Dark tried to twist around in their seat, attempting to get a good look at how many cages were around them, but only a few others were illuminated, and it was hard to judge how many sat in the darkness.

“How cute,” Bim’s voice hummed from the blackness in front of Dark. “You really did think you could get away from me.” He stepped in to the edge of the light, and Dark suddenly noticed the large circle their chair was sitting in the center of. A few concentric circles closed in around Dark, filled with strange, Dark Age symbols that dredged up bad memories. It flashed purple as Bim’s polished shoe touched its edge. “I do love when my dinner has some fight in it. Gives the soul extra spice.”

Dark’s breathing quickened, and they swung their head around wildly, searching desperately for some sort of escape. There had to be some way to escape, right? They attempted to push against Bim’s magic with their own, but it only seemed to backfire, the bonds tightening against them, searing into their skin and making them let out a strangled cry.

“You’re still trying to escape?” Bim sighed, walking forward until he was directly in front of Dark. “I told you before, Darkiepoo, rules are rules. You lost, and now you’re all mine.” Bim let out a deep chuckle and ran his tongue over his jagged teeth as he bent down to look Dark dead in the eyes. Dark tensed and tried to lean away as much as they could. The show host took in a deep breath through his nose and leaned in too close for comfort, flicking out his tongue and brushing it against Dark’s face. They nearly gagged as Bim let out a pleased sigh. “You taste so good already. You really will be a treat. I’m so lucky to get someone like yourself, you’re practically a three-course meal all on your own. But don’t worry, I’m not going to indulge myself right away. I’m going to savor this, perhaps keep a little memento? Maybe one of those pretty eyeballs of yours. I could put it in a little jar in my dressing room, to remember you by.”

Bim pulled away, looking over Dark like a tiger ready to pounce on a cornered deer. He walked back to the edge of the circle, brushing the floor with one hand as he knelt. Dark shut their eyes, but opened them quickly as they heard something solid being placed on the ground. Their cane. It shimmered in the spotlight, so close, yet more out of reach than ever before.

Dark squeezed their eyes shut again as Bim began muttering unintelligible words and the circle started to glow a royal purple hue. Dark felt their mouth being pried open by thin, magic-made fingers. They could sense the restraints on their wrists and ankles fall away, but it didn’t even matter at this point, they were so terrified they couldn’t move. They gagged as the hand began to force itself down their throat. Dark’s head was filled with an ear splitting sound, and they could feel themself losing consciousness again. Tears welled up in their eyes as searing pain burned their mouth and neck and they gagged again, choking on the corrupted dark magic. This was it. They were going to die here. Abe wouldn’t even know what had happened to them, and they were going to die alone. They didn’t even have enough energy to scream.

Suddenly, the hand was gone, and Dark coughed and sputtered as they took in several quick deep breaths, the air burning their damaged throat. They- they were still alive? They opened their eyes and looked around wildly, eyes landing quickly on something bright pink and yellow. Wilford? The thief stood toe to toe with Bim, tangled in a passionate embrace that made Dark avert their eyes and look down at the ground. They weren’t sure how or when Wilford had gotten here, but it didn’t really matter. What mattered was that, whether on accident or not, Wilford’s left foot had shifted towards Dark, smudging the edge of the circle. Dark could feel a weight lift off of them.

As silently as they could, while Bim was still occupied, Dark slipped out of the chair and into the darkness, grabbing their cane as they did. They had to get out while they could, before he noticed they were gone. Dark took one glance back at Bim and Wilford, sending a reluctant thank you nod to the pink bastard.

Dark felt their way to the wall, almost bumping into more cages than they could count. As their eyes adjusted to the blackness, they could finally see a rectangular hole in the wall close to them, with stairs leading upward into more darkness. Dark picked up their pace and practically scrambled up the stairs, pushing out through a trapdoor in Bim’s dressing room. They closed the door behind them, pulling the vanity over it for extra measure. Now they just needed to find Abe, and they could get out of there.

Dark walked quickly through the halls, trying to be as quiet as possible. The whole studio had an air of one of those places that either needed to be consumed with noise or dead quiet, and right now it was definitely the latter. The whole place felt like a maze, and Dark was starting to lose hope that they would ever find Abe.

They pulled one last door open at the far end of a hallway, and their spirits lifted as they saw the table in front of them, still covered in a large array of food. Abe wasn’t at his seat anymore, instead curled up in the far corner, his whole body shaking and his eyes wide as tears ran down his face.

“Abe?” Dark said softly, voice sore and scratchy. The head detective jumped, scrambling against the wall. He relaxed when he saw Dark, and he stood up quickly, smoothing out his coat and clearing his throat.

“Took you long enough,” Abe grumbled, glaring down at the floor as he walked over to Dark.

“I was busy getting my soul almost removed,” Dark whispered hoarsely. They tensed at first when Abe wrapped one arm around their shoulders, but soon relaxed, returning the gesture. Their tone was kinder when they spoke again. “Are you good to walk?”

Abe nodded and removed his arm. “I never want to see this fucking studio again as long as I live,” the detective said firmly, eyes betraying his fear as he looked over at Dark.

“The feeling’s mutual. Now let’s get out of here quick, before he realizes we’re gone,” Dark said, turning quick to go back the way they came. They weren’t looking forward to navigating the maze of hallways again, but the sooner they tried the better.

It took about five minutes before the two found a door that lead to the abandoned warehouse they had entered in. As soon as the door closed behind them, Dark glanced at it to see that it didn’t exist anymore, and in its place was a plain wall. They sighed, shuddering once more as thoughts of the disturbing show host crossed their mind. Focusing their magic, they formed a quick communicator and sent a short message to the Committee with their location and a request to be quick. They would already know the two needed help, and a lot of it.

#wwoww au story #wwoww bim #wwoww dark #wwoww abe #wwoww wilford #darkiplier #Wilford Warfstache #bim trimmer #markiplier

[wwoww-au]

All That Glitters

Dark and Abe strode in through the Great Library’s entrance. Shelves stuffed with books towered over them, ascending out of view. They had been there plenty of times before on past cases for information, but they still didn’t know quite where they needed to go. No one did. The whole place was like an ever-shifting labyrinth. One day the Ancient Middle-Eastern History section would be south by southeast, the next it would be on the third floor due west. It was easy to get hopelessly lost.

The only one who had any clue where anything was located was the head librarian, Google, who was mostly referred to as G. The detectives cautiously approached the large desk in the center of the room where G was sitting with his face in a book. The book had no title on its cover, but he seemed to be enjoying it, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Beside him, a deep blue quill was writing on its own against a stack of papers. Upon further inspection, Dark could just barely read the numbers of pi being put in order. He matched Abe’s equally confused glance, but they shook it off. The Library was a life form of its own, and no one asked questions if they wanted to keep their sanity intact. Abe cleared his throat before speaking up.

“Good to see you, G,” Abe greeted. “We were wondering if you could help us on a case we’re working on.”

G flipped a page of his book, and for a moment, Dark wasn’t sure if the librarian had heard Abe or not. The quill gently brushed aside the paper at the top of the stack before continuing onto the next sheet.

“What is it you need exactly?” G asked, not looking up from his book. He seemed mostly disinterested in the two. If anything, Dark would have guessed he was slightly irritated at being interrupted.

“We’re trying to track down someone named ‘Marvin the Magnificent.’ He’s a conman of some sort, might have ties to Warfstache,” Dark explained, eager to get on with the case. G said nothing for a moment until he flipped to the next page in his book. Dark tapped their foot impatiently.

“My apprentice will help you with that,” G said casually, picking up a quill and jotting something down on a notepad. Abe and Dark looked at each other in confusion. Having an apprentice in itself wasn’t too odd; plenty of wizards had apprentices. Google, however, hadn’t had an apprentice in years, ever since the last one went missing in the Dead Zone.

“Since when did you have an apprentice?” Abe asked. Considering he was the head of a department that regularly used the library’s resources, it was weird for him not to have been told. He should have been updated as soon as the apprentice was taken on.

“He was assigned to me last month.” G checked a nearby clock, frowning a bit before going back to his book. “He should be along right about now, actually.”

That didn’t make any sense either. Classes at the Academy had only ended a couple of weeks earlier, and the selection process for special jobs like this usually took a while. How could he have been assigned a month ago?

Just as Dark started to question Google’s sanity, they heard a scream from above, followed by a loud thud and a quiet “Ow…” coming from behind them. Turning around, they spotted the end of a portal closing and a newly disrupted pile of books.

“Ah, there he is,” G said, looking completely unfazed by his apprentice’s entrance. “Detectives, this is my apprentice, Bing. You may call him ‘B.’” G gestured to the teen, who was now jumping up from the ground as if he didn’t just fall from the ceiling.

“Suh dudes,” B greeted, a happy grin plastered on his face. “I finished organizing the Portal section like you asked, G.”

“Excellent, but I have a new task for you. B, these two are from the Crime Department. They’re trying to find one ‘Marvin the Magnificent.’ Go fetch his file and the Map, would you? The file is in the Biographies section, and the Map is in the Magical Objects section, Heart subsection,” G ordered, his voice never changing from its uninterested tone. “You’ll know it when you see it.” B sighed, his smile fading into a dejected frown for a brief second. He perked up again quickly though, waving to the detectives before running down the aisle of bookshelves directly behind G’s desk and disappearing from sight.

G turned to watch B run off before finally getting up from his desk and walking between Abe and Dark as if they weren’t even there. He crouched down, picking up an armful of the books B had knocked over and carrying them over to the nearest bookshelf. The two detectives only watched as he began placing books on the shelf without any apparent rhyme or reason.

“So.. how’s the apprentice?” Abe said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“Good,” G replied, placing one last book before turning to look at him. “It’s nice to have an extra set of hands around here. A bit dull-minded, but he has… potential.”

“What made you choose him? I mean, he seems so… different from you,” Dark asked. They weren’t usually one to delve into gossip, but they couldn’t not ask questions when they saw a mystery. The difference they’d picked up on just observing the two for less than a minute was clearer than night and day. Bing was enthusiastic, sociable, and kind, while Google was… well, Google wasn’t.

“I didn’t,” G said as if he expected Dark to understand exactly what he meant. As he walked back over to his desk, a loud roar was heard from somewhere to the left, followed by a scream from what had to be B.

“What do you mean, you didn’t choose him?” Dark asked, now only more confused and eyeing with fear the direction the sounds had come from. G looked off towards the distant sounds and sighed.

“I told him not to cut through the Deep Sea section again... “ he huffed, voice as monotone as ever. “As to the answer to your question, it’s like I said. I didn’t choose him. Simple as that.”

Dark opened their mouth to ask more questions, but was distracted by movement to their right. They could see someone sprinting down one of the aisles, and as they got closer they could see that the person was B. The apprentice skidded to a stop once he reached the central circle, collapsing onto his knees in an exhausted pile of sweat, salt water, and scarf. He held a file and box above his head like trophies, proud that he had even made it out alive.

“Thank you, B, now go file that under ‘Children’s Books’,” G said, taking the objects from him and dismissively pointing him toward a cart of books. B groaned, but stumbled to his feet and trudged over to the cart anyway.

“I’m assuming you have something belonging to the criminal? It won’t work without it,” G said, clearing away some space and placing the file and box on his desk. He opened the box and looked pointedly at Abe, who dug into his pocket and pulled out the glittering business card, taking a couple steps forward to hand it to G. He examined the card closely.

“It’s preferable to use an object that the person cherishes, but I suppose this will do.” G placed the card inside the box and closed the lid. He held his hands above the box, a cloud of light blue sparks enveloping it. “Once you open the lid, you’ll only have a few hours before the spell wears off and the map becomes useless.” When the last of the sparks faded away, he pushed the box across the desk. “Good luck, detectives.”

“Thank you, G,” Dark said, taking the box with their free hand and tucking it and the file under their arm. The librarian only nodded and picked his book up again, making it clear that the conversation was now over. Abe and Dark exchanged uncomfortable looks before stepping outside and onto the long marble staircase.

Dark stumbled and nearly dropped the map G had given them as they almost collided with someone coming up the stairs. Dark was ready to snap at whatever rookie hadn’t been watching where they were going, but stopped when they realized who they’d run into.

Doctor Henrik von Schneeplestein brushed his sleeve, a mildly irritated look creasing his brow as it usually did. Flecks of gray peppered his dark brown hair, and his glasses sat askew across his face, slightly obscuring the doctor’s dull blue-gray eyes. He was wearing the same thing he always seemed to be wearing; a dark blueish black tunic with black pants and tall dark boots. He backed down a few steps, moving to the side to let Dark and Abe pass.

“Sorry, Doctor,” Dark apologized, stepping back as well to push the library door back open for Henrik. “I didn’t see you there.”

Henrik made no move to step inside the library, only eying Dark with a look they couldn’t quite interpret. Sympathy, perhaps. “It’s fine,” he sighed, straightening his glasses. “And don’t bother. I can’t go in.”

Dark awkwardly let the door shut behind them and glanced over at Abe briefly before looking back at Henrik. “Why not?” They knew Henrik had done something unforgivable in the past, and that was why his magic item was broken, but no one had told them why. Whenever Dark asked, they were always met with uncomfortable glances and awkward excuses.

“Something a long time ago,” Henrik answered, sounding suddenly much more tired than he usually did. “Regardless, the library doesn’t want me going inside again, and personally, I don’t blame it.” The doctor leaned against the ornate metal banister, slowly lowering himself to sit down on the stairs. “You two seem very busy,” he added, forcing a polite smile. “I’ll let you carry on your business.”

“What about G-”

“He knows I’m here,” Henrik interrupted. “He’ll be out in a moment.”

Dark opened his mouth to volunteer to get G for Henrik, but was stopped by Abe tugging on their sleeve. The head detective shook his head and started walking down the stairs. Dark followed close behind, giving Henrik one last glance as they descended before he disappeared out of view.

.

.

After reading Marvin’s file, Dark expected that he would be hiding somewhere large and glamorous, like Las Vegas. Somewhere fast paced, with lots of people and plenty of entertainment. Instead, they found themself walking through the streets of a small Mundane town in eastern Europe. While there were a few tourists, it definitely didn’t scream ‘flamboyant con-wizard’ to Dark, but there had to be clues around somewhere. As they and Abe walked into the town square, they spotted colorful buildings, a large fountain, a green cart, and numerous posters taped up all over the place. On the buildings, the lampposts, the giant fountain thing in the middle, and more just blowing around in the wind. Abe managed to grab one and showed it to Dark. It was a green piece of paper, an advertisement for a show, one side written in Czech, but the other thankfully in English.

“‘Come see Marvin The Magnificent today! Show starts at 12:00, look for the green cart,’” Dark read. Checking their watch, they had about forty-five minutes until then.

“Guess we found our clue,” Abe muttered, stuffing the ad in one of his many coat pockets. Dark followed closely behind him to the flamboyant cart, scanning it up and down. It was rather large, four wheeled and attached to a horse that was laser focused on pulling what little grass it could snatch growing out of the pavement. It was all very green, and seemed to be one of those carts that could extend into a small stage. There was a door on one end of it which Abe spotted and knocked on, and some shuffling sounds could be heard from the inside.

“Just a second!” A sing-songy voice called out from inside. The door opened to reveal a masked man wearing a shiny blue bathrobe, with tall sparkly green boots covering the visible parts of his legs. Long, equally glittery green gloves went halfway up his arms. “I have to finish my- oh. Well, hello there. What brings you two to my humble home? The magic show isn’t for another forty minutes.”

“Are you Marvin the Magnificent?” Dark asked, straight to the point. Clearly he recognized them as wizards, but apparently was deciding to play ignorant. Probably didn’t want his cover blown in a town full of mundanes.

“Yes, the one and only!” Marvin answered cheerfully, taking a sweeping bow. “Did you want an autograph? Or maybe you’d be more interested in some of my wares? I do have quite a few exotic items if you’d like. Usually I wait until after the show to open shop, but I think I could make—”

“We’re not here for your show, or your shop,” Abe snapped, tapping his foot impatiently. “We need— Hey! Are you listening to me?” Marvin had retreated some into his cart, muttering under his breath as he dug through something Dark couldn’t see. Turning back, he adjusted his robe and looked down at Dark and Abe, appearing slightly apologetic.

“Sorry, dears,” Marvin sighed dramatically. “I’m a bit busy at the moment. Perhaps you could come back after the show?” He leaned heavily against the doorframe, letting his bathrobe slide off of one shoulder seductively. Dark looked down at their feet, suddenly feeling incredibly uncomfortable.

Abe let out a tired groan and rubbed his temples with one hand. “Fine,” he grunted, glaring at Marvin. “We’ll see you after your show.”

Marvin bounced to his feet, clapping his hands together and producing a small shower of green glitter from his gloves. “Excellent,” he purred, beaming down at Dark and Abe. “I look forward to it.” The door to the cart slammed shut before either detective could say anything else, leaving them standing in stunned silence. Nearby, the horse huffed and shook itself.

“Well, I’m not looking forward to seeing him again,” Abe said finally, not waiting for Dark before starting off towards the nearest cafe, “but I guess we don’t really have a choice.” The head detective ran his hands along the side of his head, clearly frustrated with having to wait. For as long as Dark had known him, Abe had never been a very patient man.

The two watched in silence from across the square as Marvin finished setting up the stage. Dark had a black coffee, and Abe was pouring over the file they had gotten from G. The crowd was fairly large for such a small town, though most of them didn’t look like they were from the area. The show began exactly at noon, with a large explosion of green glitter and some loud, dramatic music.

As Dark watched, slowly sipping their drink, they noticed that while most of Marvin’s ‘magic’ tricks were cheap and easy, he was definitely capable of using some rather impressive magic. Half of his tricks that would usually be done by using invisible strings or hidden panels were instead done using real magic. Marvin’s bright green sparks were hidden easily by his equally bright green gloves. The show lasted around half an hour, ending with the magician bowing and the audience cheering as they were showered with more glitter. Abe immediately stuffed the file back in his coat, standing up and briskly walking over to the cart. Dark sighed, gulping down the last of their coffee and hurrying to catch up to him.

Abe moved to knock on the door, but it opened just before his hand hit it. Marvin was standing there in his full show garb, and smiled when he saw the two detectives.

“Oh yes, you two! I had to cut my sales off early today, but you seem like you might be worth it,” Marvin sighed, dramatically leaning against the door frame. He spun around and walked into the cart, cape giving a perfect dramatic swoosh. “Come on in, I’ve just finished putting the props away.”

Dark and Abe exchanged puzzled glances before walking in. To their surprise, it was far bigger on the inside than the outside. They were in some kind of living room, and it looked like there was an entire house compressed into the area of the tiny little cart.

“Permanent spatial distortion? Do you have a permit for this?” Abe asked, stepping around a pile of half-finished fake wands. There was a spiral staircase leading upstairs in the corner, and a door leading to a kitchen right next to it. In the the living room, there was a blue couch facing across from a coffee table and an ornate red velvet fainting couch, where Marvin lay sprawled in a suitably dramatic pose. Dark and Abe took seats on the other couch. Dark glanced around the room, noticing all sorts of fake magical items strewn about in boxes and on shelves. Crystal balls made of plastic, leather-bound books with nonsensical symbols drawn on the covers, cloaks literally covered in sequins; all items that any wizard could discern as fake, but looked real enough to trick an unsuspecting mundane.

“Permit? No. Am I supposed to?” the conman asked innocently, shifting into another dramatic pose.

“Of course you- you know what? That’s not what we’re here for,” Dark interrupted themself, straight to the point as always. “We’re from the Crime Department.”

“The Crime Department?” Marvin echoed back in a shocked tone, sitting up in his seat and placing a gloved hand to his heart. “What do policemen like yourselves want with little old me?” Dark glanced around at all the fake items again. From what they read in his file, he used these to scam desperate mundanes out of their money with promises of magical solutions to their problems. There was enough incriminating evidence in this room alone to get Marvin thrown into prison and his magical item destroyed. However, they still needed him for answers on this far more important case. They would call in some officers to arrest him once Dark and Abe had gotten what they needed.

“We’re looking for a Time wizard by the name of Wilford Warfstache. He stole something very important from the Wizard Committee, and we have it under good authority that you know where to find him,” Dark explained, leaning forward in their seat.

“Oh, you’re looking for Will?” Marvin asked softly, his mask barely obscuring the deep red that was spreading across his face. He quickly regained his composure and stood up, leaving his cape on the couch. He brushed past Dark, and began pacing around the room as if he was in deep thought, heels clicking against the hardwood floor. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to help you with that, I haven’t seen him for a good while.” Marvin paused with his back to Dark and Abe. “Your name is actually ‘Dark’? A bit on the nose, don’t you think? Ah, well, who am I to judge?” Dark glanced over in confusion, standing up quickly and patting around their coat when they saw the magician was flipping through their wallet.

“Hey! When did you-” they started to yell before they were cut off by Marvin tossing the wallet back toward them.

“Here’s an important lesson about magic. Don’t watch the mouth, watch the hands,” he said, giving wild jazz hands that glittered in the lamp light. “Honestly, as a detective I’d think you’d know this.” He collapsed back onto the fainting couch.

“I’m still new to this…” Dark grumbled, checking their wallet only to find it empty. “Hey, give me my money back!”

“What money? Even if I were to have some of your money, check the sign on the door. No refunds.” Marvin winked, reclining back. Dark thought they spied a piece of paper peeking out of Marvin’s glove.

“We’re getting off topic,” Abe interrupted, purposefully ignoring the dirty look Dark shot at him as they shoved the wallet back into their pocket and sat down, crossing their arms. “I don’t care if it’s been a while, we need any information we can get our hands on to catch this guy. Did he tell you where he was going?”

“Even if he did,” Marvin began, pretending to examine his gloved hands, “why should I tell you? What’s in it for me?” He glanced over at the detectives, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

Dark wanted to get up and smack the greedy magician until he begged for mercy, but they knew that that would get them nowhere. They ran their hands down their face, inciting a small chuckle from Marvin. “What do you want?” Dark asked finally, immediately regretting their choice of words.

Marvin’s eyes lit up and a grin spread across his face. He looked the wizards over eagerly, no doubt trying to assess how much money they were carrying. Dark reached for where they had rested their cane against the couch to steady themself against this clearly insane man, but surprisingly found it missing.

“How about this?” Marvin asked, balancing the cane on one finger. “I’ve been looking for a new cane for my act, and this one’s already got some delicious magic in it, I can tell.” He bounced up from the couch and twirled the cane like a baton in one hand. Dark leaped to their feet and snatched the cane away from Marvin, clutching it tight to their chest.

“No,” Dark snapped, making Marvin frown. “Not now. Not ever. Anything but the cane.” Marvin fell back onto his couch, heaving a dramatic sigh.

“Fine,” Marvin huffed, eyeing the cane with envy. “That was an excellent bargain, but I see you’re going to be tough customers.” Was Marvin seriously treating them like customers? Dark’s brow furrowed with irritation, and they could tell Abe was struggling to keep his composure.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything else you want?” Abe asked, voice tense with frustration. “Money, jewelry, less time on your prison sentence?”

Marvin laughed at this, which only made Dark want to punch him even more. “Oh, dear,” Marvin chuckled, briefly lifting his mask to wipe his eyes. Dark caught a brief glimpse of a dark green iridescent scar running down the center of Marvin’s forehead to the end of his nose before it was covered by his mask again. “You really think you’re going to catch me? That’s adorable.” Dark twisted the cane in their hands.

“Look, Marvin,” Abe said slowly, “we just want information on Warfstache. We’ll give you anything you want, except the cane, so long as you hold up your end of the bargain.”

“This is an awfully nice badge,” Marvin hummed, now holding Abe’s wallet and flipping through its folds. “Imagine the places I could get into with this…”

“Hey!” Abe yelled, jumping to his feet and reaching for the holster at his belt. “How did you- When did you- Give that back!”

“Don’t bother,” Marvin muttered, casually waving Abe’s gun in the air. “And you did say ‘anything,’ dear detective.” The conman tucked the wallet into his pocket and examined the gun closely. “I’ll take these.”

Abe sputtered angrily, his face beet red. Dark let out a sympathetic sigh and patted Abe on his arm. The head detective stomped his foot before sitting back down on the couch, glaring furiously at Marvin.

“Thank you, Marvin,” Dark said, forcing themself to sound calm. “Now your end of the deal.”

Marvin set the gun on a side table and tapped his chin thoughtfully. “What was that, again?”

“Don’t play dumb, conman,” Abe snapped. “Warfstache. Where is he?”

“Ah, of course,” Marvin purred. “I have no idea.”

“We know he was here,” Dark said, irritation creeping into their voice. “He must have mentioned something about where he was headed.”

“Who said he was here?” Marvin asked, smiling naively.

“His shoe is on the stairs!”

Marvin glanced over at the offending bright yellow shoe and let out a defeated sigh. “Fine, fine,” he said sadly. “You’re really twisting my arm here.” He let one of his legs dangle off the couch, casually kicking another yellow shoe further under. “He’s with Bim.” Marvin looked partially ashamed of himself, but it was hard to tell with his face half hidden.

“Bim?” Abe repeated, going pale. “Bim Trimmer? The Bim Trimmer?” Marvin only gave a slight nod, and Abe and Dark exchanged anxious looks. Of course Warfstache was with him.

“Can you take us to him?” Dark asked. Marvin started to open his mouth to talk, but Dark held up their hand, stopping him. “We’ll pay you.”

Marvin beamed. “Your watch, then,” he said, pointing at Dark’s wrist. “And any money you have left on you.”

“Money, yes,” Dark growled, “but not my watch.”

Marvin’s face fell, and he pursed his lips in annoyance. “Why not? It’s just a watch.” Dark only glared, and the magician shrugged. “Fine. I want your badge, though.” He stood up as Dark produced their wallet, swiftly taking it out of their hand and tossing it along with Abe’s wallet onto a small basket brimming with numberless other wallets. He walked into the kitchen, and for a minute, didn’t return. Abe and Dark both flinched as a bright green flash of light illuminated the main room from the kitchen entrance.

Marvin stepped out of the kitchen, brushing his hands together before pulling his gloves back on. “We’re here,” he said, grabbing his cape as he walked past the fainting couch. He pulled the door open and stepped outside, revealing a dirty cobblestone street.

Dark couldn’t tell where they’d travelled to, but it certainly wasn’t Czechia. Rain drizzled lightly, forming puddles in the cracks in the road. A couple stray cats hissed at each other over a half-eaten paper tray of fish and chips next to a knocked over trash can. Across the street, a large warehouse door was partially open. Dark stood up just in time to see the figure of Warfstache run into the open warehouse door, closing it behind him.

“There he is!” Dark shouted, running out the door with Abe close behind. They pulled the warehouse door open, letting the dim gray light illuminate the space. Warfstache stood over a crate, his back turned to Dark and Abe.

“It’s over, Warfstache,” Abe said loudly, voice echoing through the room. The thief didn’t seem to acknowledge them, simply rocking back on his heels.

Dark glanced over briefly at Abe before stepping forward cautiously. Warfstache had either gone deaf, or was actually going to let them catch him. A pit of uneasiness settled in Dark’s stomach. Something didn’t feel right about this.

They finally reached Warfstache, and he still hadn’t noticed Dark. Cautiously, they reached out to place their hand on his shoulder. Just as they touched Warfstache, he vanished in a puff of green sparks and glitter. Something hit the ground with a heavy thud behind Dark, and they spun around.

Marvin wiped something shiny off his mouth and stepped over Abe’s unconscious body. “You really should know better than to trust an illusionist,” Marvin purred. Before Dark could react, Marvin blew them a kiss, sending a spray of green glitter at Dark. They were out as soon as it hit them.

.

.

“...Outdone yourself this time, Marvin, darling,” a voice said, voice dripping with sweet charisma.

Dark’s head was filled with the sound of their own heartbeat.

“Told you I would,” Marvin hummed pridefully. “You’d better pay extra, my dear.”

They couldn’t move. Something was binding them.

“I will, I will,” the other voice reassured softly. “Don’t worry.”

Dark let themself slip back into unconsciousness.

#wwoww au #wwoww dark #wwoww abe #wwoww au story #wwoww marvin #wwoww google #wwoww bing #wwoww wilford #markiplier

[wwoww-au]

Conspiracy Wall

    It was three o’clock in the afternoon, though the bright sunlight was doing nothing to illuminate the desaturated room. The folds in the closed blinds let slits of light hit the single chair where the detective sat. He appeared statuesque, with his hands clasped and legs crossed as they had been for hours. The only indication of life was the motion of his eyes over the wall in front of him. His intense focus was aimed at studying the smorgasbord of information taped, nailed, and glued to its surface - names, places, dates, classical folk dances from years past, present, and future - all tied together beneath tangled red strings. It was all connected in some way or another. He just wasn’t sure how.

    The door opened with a loud creak, fighting against a stack of files about the Indian Rebellion of 1857 for floor space. The stranger closed the door behind them in a harsh manner, stepping over piles and making their way over to the surprisingly ornate desk, where they sat down on a particularly sturdy pile of papers and lowered their head onto a bit of free space.

    “You’re back soon,” the detective huffed, not bothering to turn and look at the stranger. “How’d it go this time? Did you get close?” Despite not taking his eyes off the wall, he was able to tell exactly who the stranger was. Only one person had that feel to them, a chaotic blend of passion and intelligence.

    The only response he got was a muffled screaming sound.

    “I’ll take that as a no.” Abe’s voice wasn’t upset, more so concerned than anything else.

    “Every. Single. Fucking. Time!” the voice shouted. The detective nodded as the voice confirmed that the one in his office was indeed his longtime friend, Dark. One of the few working in the Crime Department who interacted personally with Abe. Dark stood up, knocking over the pile of papers they were sitting on and a couple more on the desk for good measure. They were venting out their frustrations the same way they always had, destroying anything and everything around them enough to make the emotions subside. Papers flew from folders and scattered across the carpeting. Though not as destructive as they had been in the past, it was messing with the organization. Abe flinched as a hefty stack of papers hit the back of his chair.

    “Look, let’s not get too worked up,” Abe said carefully, adjusting his position in his seat with his elbows on his knees and focusing mostly on the board. The travels of one time wizard in particular were posted all over. It was a lot harder than one might think, connecting all those dots, given the constant time travel and the fact that even the thief didn’t know the order of events. France, Egypt, Canada, Brazil- he could be in any place, at any time. “That pink bastard has gotten out of our grasp time and time again, no pun intended. We just need to think. What we need-” He rose to his feet, taking up a cigar in his fingers. The detective lit the cigar with his back to his partner. Smoke escaped from his lips before he turned to Dark, the cigar sat sly between his teeth. Abe gestured to a red string board covered in articles, Polaroid photographs, multi-colored sticky notes, and a couple of Renaissance oil paintings. There was a small grin on Abe’s face, one of pride. “What we need is a detective’s crime-solving board.”

    The all-powerful detective’s crime-solving board, and Abe’s pride and joy. It was the perfect way of connecting and making sense of events, which was in much dire need with this case. Performers, rituals, parties, and magic could all be thought out in a clear way. Dark looked at the board, paper still crumpled up in one of their clenched fists. There was mild confusion at first, then an annoyed look.

    “Really? That’s the best you have? We’ve had it for years, nothing new is just going to magically pop out of nowhere.” They slumped against a stack of files on the floor, a dejected look in their eyes now.

    “Don’t doubt it just yet,” replied the detective, taking the cigar from his mouth and exhaling smoke. He gently pressed his hand to the board. “We’ve got tons of places the guy has gone to. We’ve got a count of how many times he’s been to those places.” His hand traversed the board, gliding over photos and logs and writing, “If we can just manage to catch him at one of those places, then it’ll be game over for him. Case closed.” At the end of the board, he poked it a couple of times before placing the vape back between his lips.

    Dark groaned, standing up to pick up a few files that had been scattered about. Abe would organize them later, but it would be easier if they weren’t strewn all across the room. “We’ve tried that,” they mumbled, “but just showing up isn’t enough! We need to actually trap him, and I’ve tried everything I can think of.”

    “We just gotta keep trying. He can’t run forever,” Abe mused, settling back into deep thinking mode. If left unchecked, he could stand in one place for hours, just thinking.

    As Dark was sliding a few files into a nearby cabinet, something fell out of a folder,  catching their eye- a small slip of paper the size of a business card, adorned with gold leafing and an exorbitant amount of glitter, making it the most eye-catching thing in the room. Trying not to get glitter all over them, they carefully picked it up.

Marvin the Magnificent

Wizard Extraordinaire

    The card read, along with an address listed below it. Flipping it over, they found a note written in neat, fancy handwriting and with a green glitter gel pen.

Will-

Bring some spirits next time, we’ll have a party!

~Marvin

        “Hold on. Who’s Marvin?” said Dark, holding up the card for the other to see. The detective tore his eyes away from the wall, reaching across the desk to take the card. His eyebrows furrowed in thought as Dark tried their best to wipe the glitter from their hands. It only ended up spreading onto their coat.

      “Marvin, Marvin… I think…” Abe started scanning the walls looking for something, then started rummaging around through the piles of papers and files.

      “Aha, got it!” he said, emerging victorious from somewhere near the shaded window with a particularly thick file. He hefted it over to the desk, carefully pushing things aside to create a space to put it down.

       “Did you find something?” Dark had finished organizing the knocked over piles as best they could, careful to see if anything mentioned this Marvin character.

      “Yes,” Abe said as he started to flip through the bulky file. “Marvin the Magnificent- wait, that’s his legal last name? Anyways, Marvin the Magnificent, a criminal wanted for so many accounts of theft and scamming that this isn’t even the complete file. I don’t know know why I didn’t think of this before, but if we match up places he’s been spotted, a lot of them match up with places we know Wilford has been in the present and recent past.”

    “So if we find this Marvin, we’ll find Warfstache? Alright then,” Dark turned on their heel and began to make their way out of the room. Abe looked up from the file, bewildered by the sudden movement.

    “Wait, where are you going?!” Abe called, torn between going after Dark and reading through the rest of the file.

    “I’m going to find Marvin,” Dark explained as they reached for the doorknob.     Abe let out a groan of frustration, one that he had let out a plethora of times prior. Dark often rushed into things, so often that it was easy to mistake them for a heart wizard with how much their emotions controlled their actions.

“Hold up there, Dark, you’re not going anywhere alone. Let me get my coat and we’ll head out together.” Abe frowned sadly at the large file before heaving it closed and moving to pull his coat on.

    Taken back by this gesture, Dark slowed down and waited for their fellow detective. Well, ‘fellow detective’ in loose terms. They often had to remind themselves that Abe was no longer just another detective, but the head of the Crime Department. After his stellar work on busting a number of banned magic users, Abe was given the title. Having him come out on the field for something as small as finding a possible lead was quite an honor.

    “Hey, grumpy face, get out of your own head for a quick sec.” Abe waved a hand in front of Dark’s face, snapping them back into reality. “We’ll need to stop by the Library, get some quick info on the Marvin guy. G might know someone who can help cut down on the searching time.” Opening the door, the two made their way out and started walking briskly to the Library.

#wwoww au #wwoww dark #wwoww abe #wwoww au story #darkiplier #the detective #abe #markiplier #au

[wwoww-au]

Lovesick

I’ve always been afraid of being alone. For as long as I could remember I was terrified that my world would always be cold, empty, incomplete. I could only hope that I would find someone special… and one day I found him. My Senpai. From the moment I met him, I knew he was the one. I felt complete. But he was destined to be with someone else.

She likes him, but not in the way I like him. She could never appreciate him the way I do. She is a selfish, shallow human being. She doesn’t deserve someone as good as him. But I found something to stop her. Something to cut their ties -- their heartstrings -- before she could take him away from me. I thought I was doing the right thing, protecting Senpai from ending up with the wrong person.

I knew it the moment I cut the string. The searing pain in my hand where I had held the scissors, the jagged red scar etched beneath my ring finger. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have done this. It wasn’t my choice to make. I-

“Yan?” Senpai waved a hand in front of their face.

“Huh?” Yan looked up at him. The two were sitting across from each other at a small table in a cafe. They had been meeting like this a lot in the last few weeks; getting lunch or walking through the park and simply getting to know each other.  Yan cherished these moments more than anything in the world.  “Sorry, lost in thought.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Senpai leaned forward, a look of concern on his face. “You haven’t been acting like your normal, obsessively cheery self lately. And you look awfully pale.”

“I’m fine, I promise,” they reassured him, placing a gloved hand over his. “I’ve been tired, that’s all.”

“Are you sure it’s just that? You could be coming down with something. Maybe you should see a doctor.”

“Oh, alright. If you say so.” Yan gave a half-hearted smile. “I’ll get a checkup tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” Senpai sat back in his chair. “I care about you, you know. I don’t want you to get sick.”

"You're just the sweetest, do you know that?" Yan said. The pair smiled at each other. "So, what were we talking about, before all this?"

"Your trip to the library?"

"Oh, right! So yeah B and I get to the Gardening Section, and then this giant vine shoots out of nowhere and-"

.

.

.

Henrik rarely got appointments these days. His patients mainly consisted of officers from the nearby Crime Department or special cases assigned by the Committee themselves. Sitting at his desk, he checked his schedule for the day. It was completely empty, except for one person who had scheduled a checkup for later that afternoon. He was a little surprised, but he was grateful to have something to do that day. 

They arrived five minutes early to the appointment, greeting him at the door with a smile. "Good morning, Doctor."

"You can just call me Henrik," he said, politely shaking their hand. Their greeting reminded him of Jackie, another positive force trying and failing to brighten his ever sour mood. "Yan, was it?"

"That's me," they answered cheerfully as they followed him back into the office. They perched up on the edge of one of the beds. Henrik pulled a clipboard off of his desk and read what was written there.

"So, it says here you've been feeling sick? Can you describe your symptoms?"

Yan looked down at their hands, folded in their lap. "I've been really tired lately. I guess I've been a little more irritable."

"Anything else?" Henrik barely looked up from his clipboard.

"Well, I-" They hesitated. "Uh, I've been struggling with my magic a bit."

Henrik's eyes went wide upon hearing this, and his head snapped up to look at them. His grip tightened on the clipboard. He spoke slowly, but with urgency. "What did you say?"

"I've been struggling with my magic a bit? Nothing too serious, I've just been getting headaches when I try to sense emotions or look at strings…" They trailed off when they saw the look Henrik was giving them. It was a look of fear, and of sadness.

"Did you use any core magic, other than your own?"

"W-what?"

"Did you use any core magic other than your own?" he repeated, his tone urgent and serious.

"I…" they trailed off and slumped their shoulders. They pulled off one of their gloves, holding up their left hand to reveal a small red iridescent scar on the knuckle beneath their ring finger. "Yes."

Henrik's heart broke for the person in front of him. Someone so young, having to endure the consequences of such a horrible decision. He so badly wanted to tell them everything was alright, but they needed to hear the truth. "You're corrupting."

 "I thought because I used an item, nothing bad would happen. But I guess not," Yan continued, their breathing picking up as they spoke. "It was such a dumb mistake, and now my life is over! I'll lose my apprenticeship, they'll break my locket, they'll throw me in jail and- oh wizard god, what will my mom think?!" They broke into a sob, covering their face with their hands.

Henrik froze. He didn't know what to do; it had been too long since he had comforted someone. He moved forward and put a hand on their shoulder, a gesture Jackie had used to comfort him countless times. "Hey, it's alright. You're going to be alright."

"How?" Yan choked out between sobs, tear-filled eyes begging for some sort of answer.

"I-" He paused to consider what he could say, if he could trust the stranger in front of him. Something about them told him he could. "I'm working on a cure. Something that can stop corruption before it can destroy the wizard. It's slow work, but I have help." He decided not to go into detail about Anti. The poor kid was already so afraid, it would be best not to mention the walking corpse in the basement. 

"You- you are?" They sniffed, a small smile tugging at the corners of their mouth. "And you'd be willing to help me?"

"Of course," he said softly, managing to return the slight smile. 

"Then I want to help you, too." They wiped a few stray tears from their eyes. "Where do we start?"

Henrik stepped back. He was hesitant to bring someone else into this, but the need for more help outweighed the worry. "First you have to promise not to tell anyone about any of this. The Committee already has me under watch, and if they find out I'm messing with corruption they'll break my item even more. You'll be fine; you're in a very early stage of corruption. It's barely noticeable. Keep that scar covered, and don't tax yourself too much when using magic."

They slipped their glove back on and nodded. They had a new look of determination on their tear-soaked face. Henrik bent over and shifted the carpet to the side, revealing the basement door.

"I keep my research down here," he said, lifting the hatch to the stairs. "I'll go grab some of it for you to look over, see what you can do to help, though admittedly, there's not much. Wait up here." He disappeared down the dark steps.

Yan stood up from the bed and began pacing around. They absentmindedly fiddled with their locket as they began to process their feelings. On one hand, their selfish decision led to their own corruption; on the other, sheer luck brought them to someone working on a cure. Yan halted their pacing in front of the trap door. The sound of Henrik's voice, along with a second, harsher voice, drifted from below. Using the smallest bit of Heart magic, they could sense strong emotion from below. Concern, fear, anger. It put them on edge. 

They moved towards open door, gently padding down the steps. They spotted Henrik arguing in a hushed tone with another man, whose back was turned to them. "Henrik, are you alright?" they said quietly.

"Yan," Henrik said quickly, eyes wide with panic. "I told you to wait upstairs."

"I heard you talking and I wanted to check-" They were quickly cut off when the other man turned around, revealing his haunting features. Blood oozed from a cut on his neck, and his skin clung to his bones, as if he hadn’t eaten in years. Jet black eyes glared at them, green and blue irises seemingly glowing with fury. Yan clapped a hand over their mouth. "Oh m-my wizard god… your neck-"

"I told you this was a bad idea!" the man yelled back at Henrik. He stalked towards Yan, a hideous sneer on his face. His hands flickered with glitchy, crimson and dark green magic. 

"Anti, calm down," Henrik begged, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

"No! Listen to me!" Anti whipped around, throwing Henrik’s hand off, and pointed an accusing finger at the doctor, who shrunk visibly. "You're way too trusting! That's what got you into this mess in the first place!" He turned back to Yan. "You! Get out!"

"I'm- I'm sorry! I shouldn't have-" Yan stuttered out the best they could. They backed away slowly, heart practically beating out of their chest. 

"GET OUT!" Anti screamed. The magic gathering at his hands burst out, knocking back everything around him. Yan flew back into the stairs with a strangled cry. The room settled, unbearably quiet after the blast. Yan stood on shaky feet before scrambling up the stairs, a few fresh tears streaking their face.

"What did you do?" Henrik broke the silence, pushing past Anti to get to the stairs.

"I didn't know I could do that." Anti flexed his hand, staring at it with curiosity. "Honestly. You know I can't control my magic."

Henrik was already midway up the stairs. "I don't care about your magic,” the doctor snapped, “what you need to be controlling is your temper. We'll talk about this later." He disappeared up the stairs, calling after Yan.

Anti huffed, and slumped over into the worn desk chair. He glanced over at the jar on the desk, where Sam was silently bobbing in the green potion. "Don't look at me like that," he grumbled. "Okay.. maybe I overreacted, but I have every right to be on edge."

 Sam bumped up against the glass. 

"It would be nice to have a little more help... But how do I know we can trust them?"

Sam bumped the glass again, making a few bubbles float to the surface.

 "You're right. You're always right. I'll go apologize."

He stood up, grabbing the tattered notebook and numerous loose scraps of paper that made up his corruption research, as well as Sam's jar. With one last look at Sam for reassurance, he made his way upstairs, carefully lifting the trap door with his free hand when he reached the top. 

He peaked out, glancing around the room with wild eyes. His gaze landed on Henrik, hands resting on a shaking Yan's shoulders. Tears ran down their face, and the doctor was muttering something in hopes of calming them down. Anti cleared his throat.

Henrik turned around, immediately moving in front of Yan. "That was fast. Already coming to apologize?"

Anti shrugged before climbing up the last of the stairs. "Sam convinced me that we could use more help, okay? They can stay."

"Sam?" Yan whispered to the doctor, peering around his side. "Is he talking about that thing in the jar?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Henrik sighed. "All that time sitting alone in the basement is making him lose his grip on reality."

"Are you two going to stand around insulting me all day, or are we going to get some work done?" Anti cut in, tapping his foot impatiently.

"I have some books on old life magic in my room, I'll go get those while you two start going over notes," Henrik said, walking over to the door that lead to his apartment. "Anti, if you try anything, I'll make sure you stay dead this time."

"Yikes, low blow," Anti gasped, and held a hand to his heart to feign hurt. "But your point stands."

"I mean it. Play nice." Henrik stepped into his apartment and shut the door, leaving the two alone.

Anti kneeled down on the floor, laying out all of his work and Sam's jar in front of him. He glanced up at Yan, who still watched nervously from a few feet away. "Well, you wanted to help, right? Come here," he grunted, waving them over. They slowly walked over and sat in front of him, cautiously watching him. "So, Yan, what'd you do?"

"What?" Yan flinched slightly, half expecting Anti to lash out at them again.

"What did you do to get corrupted?"

"Oh, that." They looked away. "I used an item with a Soul core in it. I have a Heart core." 

"Really, that's it? Why?"

"Well," they hesitated, "I really like this guy, and I was scared I was going to lose him to someone else. So I used the item to cut their heartstrings." They looked up to see Anti staring at them with disbelief. His mouth slowly curled into a smile and he started to howl with laughter. "Why are you laughing?!" 

"Are you kidding me?" He spoke after catching his breath. "You got corrupted over a crush?! Oh my god, you know what this makes you? A Yan-dere!" He began to laugh harder at his own joke.

"Stop laughing, it's not funny," they huffed, crossing their arms. "Whatever! How did you corrupt then, if what I did was so ridiculous?!"

"How do you even know I'm corrupt?" 

"You literally just threw me into the stairway with glitch magic."

"You got me there," Anti admitted, reaching up to gently scratch at his neck. A few bits of caked-up blood flaked off. "It's a long story. I was at a low point in my life, thought magic would help. Obviously, that wasn't the case."

"How did your family react to finding out you're corrupted?" Yan asked. They tensed when they saw his face grow solemn. "Sorry, I just- I'm really worried about what might happen if my friends or family find out."

"No, it's fine," Anti said. "My family was out of the picture long before I corrupted."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be," Anti scoffed, shaking his head. "I doubt they miss me much, anyways." Those words hung in the air for what felt like hours before he spoke again. "Hey, Yandere, now's not the time to mope around. We got work to do."

"Are you seriously going to keep calling me that?"

"Absolutely." He handed them a notebook with a wink.

"Whatever," they grumbled, snatching the notebook from his hand. Their brow furrowed as they flipped through the crumpled, occasionally bloodstained pages. "Your handwriting is terrible. Does this say 'soul' or 'seal'?"

Anti leaned forward to read the scribbled words. "That says 'core'."

Yan looked at the page again. "You're such a mess."

Anti snickered. "Oh yeah, well-"

Henrik opened the door to the apartment, a pile of old books precariously balanced under one arm. He watched the other two on the floor, quickly exchanging playful insults back and forth. He couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. His efforts always felt so hopeless,yet such a small exchange between strangers made him feel optimistic for the first time in months. Maybe there was some hope left.

#wwoww au #yandereplier #henrik von schneeplestein #dr schneeplestein #antisepticeye #wwoww yan #wwoww henrik #wwoww anti #wwoww story

[wwoww-au]

Off Track Mind

Mare cracked his knuckles and glared at the bright green door. Thunder boomed in the distance, and rain soaked his trench coat. After weeks of searching, he’d finally managed to track down the location of what would soon be his greatest capture.

Marvin the Magnificent.

Mare had been on the conman’s trail for weeks now, always just a few steps behind. He couldn’t risk getting too close too quickly, or he’d completely lose his target. Finally he’d managed to catch up as Marvin stopped in a small Midwestern town.

Mare lifted his hand to knock, but something made him hesitate.

The conman had avoided capture for far too long. Every time anyone got close, he’d somehow manage to slip away. Some of his attempted captors vanished without a trace. Those who returned shared in ashamed tones how they’d been seduced by the magician before being dropped on the side of the road. Marvin was near impossible to track, disappearing in a flash and leaving no clues behind. Wherever he showed up, he robbed people blind, manipulating them out of everything they owned. His entire business was a scam, and the Wizard Committee was constantly scrambling to keep the wizard community hidden wherever he went. 

This would end tonight. Tonight, Mare wasn’t going to leave until he had Marvin in handcuffs. He’d never failed to bring a criminal to justice, and he’d take special pleasure in breaking Marvin down.

Before Mare could knock on the door, it swung open, revealing a masked man wearing a shimmering blue robe and thigh-high sparkling green boots. His bright green hair was pulled back in a loose bun, held together by two needles.

“Marvin,” Mare growled. “I’ve been waiting a long time to finally meet you.”

“You have?” Marvin asked, placing a gloved hand to his heart. “I’m flattered, honest! You’re Mare, aren’t you? I’ve heard so much about you.” The magician slid up against the door and dropped a shoulder, letting the blue robe slide off.

“Y-yeah,” Mare stammered. Why was his face so warm? Was Marvin wearing anything but his boots, gloves, and robe? What was-- No! Mare shook his head. He had to stay focused. “You’re under arrest,” Mare added, fumbling to pull out his badge. “I’m taking you in!”

Marvin stuck out his bottom lip and held his hand out the door, letting a few drops of rain gather in his palm before taking his hand back. “In this weather?” Marvin asked. “Tell you what, Marie, let me take you in” -- He paused to hold up his hand, stopping Mare from interrupting -- “just for tonight. Then, once this dreadful rain has stopped, you can arrest me and I’ll go along quietly.”

Mare’s heart pounded. It should have been an easy choice, but the way Marvin had said his name, and the look he was giving him was making his head go fuzzy. Mare made eye contact with the conman and felt his face flush. Just the night couldn’t hurt, right? Once the rain stopped, then he’d arrest Marvin, and he could forget about those glimmering blue and green eyes and those well-toned arms.

“Fine,” Mare said, less reluctantly than he wanted to admit to himself. “No funny business, though. I won’t hesitate if you try to pull something.” He felt his hands shaking as he reached to touch the microphone at his belt.

“Perfect,” Marvin purred, grabbing Mare by the collar and pulling him into the cart. The door slammed shut behind him, and Mare swallowed hard.

The carriage was dimly lit by a few candles scattered about the large room. Boxes full of fake magic items sat against the wall by the door, leaving the rest of the space to a couple couches and a table. A door on the back wall led into a darkened kitchen, and a spiral staircase disappeared to an upper level. Marvin was reclined on the fainting couch, robe hanging loosely off of his shoulders.

“Please, take a seat,” Marvin invited, gesturing at the couch across from him. “You must be exhausted from all your travelling.”

Mare shrugged off his coat and took a seat where Marvin had gestured. Despite still being soaked, the detective felt almost too warm. “Wait, you knew I was following you?” Mare asked, the realization hitting him suddenly. He’d been extra careful to stay undetected, and he was sure he’d been doing alright. Marvin hadn’t disappeared, after all.

“Of course!” Marvin laughed. “I’m not daft, Marie. If I was, I would have been captured long ago.” He gestured at a pair of wine glasses on the table, filling them magically with a shimmering ruby red drink. “Thirsty?”

Mare hesitantly took one of the glasses, swirling it gently. “This, uh, better not be poisoned,” he said, eyeing Marvin as they both took a sip. The taste was incredible, clearly crafted with care. “That’s really good,” Mare admitted, taking another sip.

“I had hoped so.” Marvin swirled his own drink, watching it with pride. “I've been saving this bottle for a rainy day. And with the storm outside it seems it's the perfect time to have it.” The magician turned his gaze back to Mare, and the detective felt his face grow warm again. He found himself just staring into Marvin’s mismatched eyes, heart fluttering in his chest.

“See something you like?” Marvin asked, startling Mare out of his stupor. The conman chuckled as Mare struggled to answer. Why couldn’t he answer? Mare wanted to say no, to shake his head, but something was holding him back. He glanced down at the drink. Could it have--? No, Mare had hardly had a couple sips, and a love potion that quick and potent would have had to have been crafted by a heart wizard. This was something else.  Something real.

Slowly, Mare nodded.

Before Marvin could say anything, Mare picked up his glass and downed the entirety of its contents. He held the empty glass up to Marvin, who raised an eyebrow.

“Are you sure about that?” Marvin slowly chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink. “You can’t arrest me drunk, Marie.”

Something inside Mare reasoned that Marvin was right, but his heart, set on what he really wanted, quickly pushed that thought aside, and he nodded.  “Yes,” he added out loud when the magician continued to hesitate.

Marvin nodded, satisfied by the verbal confirmation, and flicked his wrist. Mare’s drink refilled slowly, and only halfway.  "Don't get too carried away."

This had to be some powerful drink Marvin had given him. His vision was already starting to blur at the edges, and when he tried to open his mouth to talk, a hiccup came out instead. When had he moved so close to Marvin? The same thought from before now begged Mare to focus on why he had come here in the first place, but Marvin’s glittery lips were just so alluring, and the plans of Mare’s mind had been replaced by those of his heart.

Maybe it was the drink, maybe it was the lipstick Marvin was wearing, or maybe it was that very real something else, but Mare found himself letting his rationale take a backseat as the rest of the night passed by.

.

Mare groaned and sat up slowly. Where… where was he? The gentle sunlight reflecting off of a sequined blanket made him close his eyes tight. His head pounded, and he tried to collect his memories as he got dressed. He remembered Marvin’s kiss, remembered a conversation before stumbling drunkenly up the spiral stairs, remembered- oh. Mare’s face flushed with embarrassment and rage, and he started carefully down the stairs, ready to slap a pair of cuffs on Marvin’s wrists and forget the night ever happened.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Marvin purred, shuffling a pan of eggs over a magically lit stove. He was wearing that damned blue bathrobe again, and fishnet stockings were pulled up to his thighs. Mare felt the same warmth from the night before, but quickly forced it back down.

“You’re under arrest,” Mare grumbled, sounding probably a lot less intimidating than he wanted to. He blinked blearily as Marvin easily guided him to the front door.

“I was hoping we could have a nice breakfast,” Marvin sighed, opening the door, “but not with that attitude.” The conman gently nudged Mare outside, and the detective’s heart dropped as the door closed.

“Wait--!” Before Mare could open the door again, the cart was gone. A single, glitter-covered business card sat on the ground where the cart had been. Picking it up, Mare read silently, ‘Call me, Marie~,’ followed by a series of numbers. In a fit of fury, he lit the card on fire and dropped it, stomping it into the dirt until it was just a pile of sparkling ash.

Mare wanted to kick himself. He’d let himself be seduced and then tossed aside like last week’s newspaper. He couldn’t believe he’d let himself be led on by Marvin of all people. Worst of all, Mare had liked it. He’d wanted it when he was lucid, and he’d just drank to keep himself from holding back.  It had been clear that Marvin wouldn’t have done anything had Mare not stated his own desires.

 Still furious, Mare stormed back to his car. He couldn’t let anyone know he’d gotten his perfect capture streak tarnished in glitter. He’d just tell them he’d lost the trail again and needed to gather more information before heading back out. It had happened before, and there was no reason it couldn’t happen again. He wouldn’t let some undeniably handsome conman in glittery boots ruin his career.

Mare rummaged through his coat, making sure he had all his things. Keys, check. Microphone, check. His handcuffs were missing, but those were easily replaceable. Wallet… Mare groaned. He searched a couple more pockets, just to be sure. His wallet was gone. He wasn’t one to carry much cash, but that wallet had his badge in it, plus a few prized pictures of Mangle. Perfect. Now he had to make an excuse to get a new badge as well.

Mare fumbled with his keys for a moment before speeding away from where the cart had stood just moments before, determined to never look back.

#wwoww au #wwoww marvin #wwoww mare #wwoww story #marvin the magnificent #natemare

[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.

#wwoww au #wwoww story #wwoww dark #wwoww wilford #wwoww jj #markiplier #jacksepticeye #darkiplier #wilford warfstache #jameson jackson

[wwoww-au]

Fun at Your Local Library

Dark rarely found themselves with time off. Even when they weren't physically chasing after Wilford, they would be cooped up in their office analyzing evidence, searching for leads, anything that would get them closer to finding the thief. It was rare to find days where there was nothing for them to do.

Today was one of those days. While going over some old reports on the Warfstache case, Dark had found an inconsistency in the timeline of events. They figured that it must have been caused by him jumping through time again. Unfortunately, as soon as the Committee got word of this breakthrough in the case, they took the reports in for review. This meant that Dark would have to wait at least a day for them to go over the reports and rule out any other possible reasons for the inconsistencies before they would allow them to time travel again.

And that is why they decided it would be best to just stay out of the way and go to the Library instead. They’d learned a long time ago that it was easier to just let the Committee do as they please, rather than argue and make things worse.

They pushed open the heavy door to the Library and walked in, boots squeaking on the shiny wooden floor. The room was comfortably silent. G sat at his desk as usual, lifting his gaze from his work to take a brief glance at who just came in. A teenager with red hair sat at one of the work tables, scrolling through their phone and mindlessly fidgeting with the chain of the locket around their neck.

"Good morning, G," Dark said, walking up to the main desk. G was busy reading from a large leather-bound book and taking notes, his enchanted quill making an exact copy of said notes as he wrote.

"What can I do for you, detective?" G finished a page of notes and put down his pen, the quill following suit by lying itself down on its own stack of papers. "Do you need something for the case? History books, Committee files?"

"No, none of that today. I'm off duty." Dark looked off to the side, avoiding eye contact with the librarian. "Actually, I was hoping to study up on magic. Spells and all that…" They trailed off. G watched them with a look of understanding.

"Fair enough, just wait at one of the tables and I'll have my apprentice find something for you," he said.

Dark nodded in silent thanks and sat down at a table near the front desk. They looked over at the teen at the other table.

"Are you waiting on books, too?" Dark asked. They normally didn't start small talk, but the sudden random quiet of the Library was becoming too unbearable.

"Hm?" They looked up from their phone. "Oh, no. I'm just waiting for B. We're gonna hang out after he gets out of work. I'm Yan by the way." They smiled, leaning forward on their hands and looking at them curiously.

"Dark," they replied. "Speaking of, where is B? He's normally around here somewhere."

"G sent him to go organize one of the sections. 'Early Survival Techniques' or something like that." As if on cue, B emerged from one of the opposite bookshelves. His face was covered in ash, and the ends of his clothes were singed. He was patting out a small flame on the sleeve of his sweater when he walked up to Yan.

"All finished, you ready to go?" He smiled at his friend.

"Not yet, B," G interrupted. "I need you to grab some books on basic soul magic for Dark."

"But you said I could leave early today," B protested, looking disappointed.

"I know what I said. It shouldn't take too long." G spoke with the voice of a stern parent. "You can take your friend along with you if you want." He gestured vaguely towards Yan, and sat back down to finish his work. B smiled and grabbed his friend by the hand.

"Thank you! Come on Yan, this is gonna be fun!" He dragged them with him into the rows of bookshelves. Yan waved to the other two as they disappeared down the aisles, a giddy smile on their face.

"It was nice meeting you, Dark!" they called back.

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.

.

As the two teenagers walked down a row of bookshelves, it grew increasingly more cramped as more and more stacks of books  began to take up space. Eventually it grew to the point where the stacks were so tall that it was hard to see the top, and books would occasionally drop from somewhere up high.

"Sorry about this," B said sheepishly, maneuvering as best he could through the stacks. "I was supposed to organize this section, but I guess things just got piled up. Literally." He jumped back as a heavy binder filled with various files fell in front of him. "The Committee is in the process of backlogging a bunch of their old files, and all of it is getting shipped here." He picked up the binder and placed it on the nearest shelf.

"No worries," said Yan. "It's actually pretty interesting to see what you do all day. Being an apprentice at the Great Library must be pretty cool." They stepped around a pile of more binders, only to bump into it and knock one off the top. It hit the ground with an explosion of glitter.

"It's alright. Just very, very weird." B brushed the glitter off the binder and placed it on the shelf next to the other one. "Hey, how's your apprenticeship going? I'm sure it's a lot easier than all of this." He gestured at the whole of the Library, stopping in time to lunge out of the way of a heavy leather bound book that hit the ground with a loud thud to his left.

"Well it's certainly less dangerous, I'll tell you that," they giggled. "But matchmaking does have its challenges from time to time. It helps to have a built-in guide, though."

"Guide?" B scrunched up his face in confusion. "Like your boss tells you what to do or…"

"No, not that. The heart strings." Yan looked over at B to see he was still visibly confused. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Okay, this is really hard to explain to someone who isn't a heart core so just bear with me." They took a deep breath and rubbed their hands together. "So when two people are compatible as a couple, a red string binds them together. Matchmakers follow these strings and use them as a guide to bring people together. Pretty much all heart wizards can see them, but no one really talks about it 'cause it's a super personal thing."

"Oh, I get it," B said. "Like soulmates?"

"Not exactly." Yan thought for a moment. "It's not really set in stone. People can gain strings after getting to know one another, or lose strings over time. Some people don't even have them."

"So, anyone can have a heart string? What about… G? Does he have one?”

“Well, like I said it’s rude to talk about someone’s strings… but yeah, his is super weird,” Yan leaned in and whispered conspiratorially.

“Man, must be nice to know who likes who. Wait, can you see your own string? Or is that like, against the magic rules?”

“Oh yeah, you can see your own. I don’t have one, but, well… there’s this one guy I like,” Yan said, eyes going dreamy. “I met him in the city while at work. He’s so nice, and handsome, and he helped me out of the rain, and he’s super sweet, and oh, he’s perfect B! My Senpai… but he’s… well, he’s already got someone else.”

B looked back at them worriedly having noticed their tone shift, and almost tripped over a large root on the ground. That was when Yan noticed the foliage- branches grew off of shelves, roots and grass sprung through the floor, flowers of various shapes and sizes began to pop up, and leaves started to appear to create a sort of canopy above them. Up ahead, a curtain of ivy cut off the aisle of bookshelves.

“Oh hey, we’re nearly at the Gardening Section,” B said, trying to change the subject.

“What’s the Gardening Section? Is it nice?”

“Oh yeah, I guess. It’s where all the books on gardening are. It’s really pretty, though you gotta watch out for the plants.”

“I’ll say,” Yan said as they picked their way through the increasingly dense undergrowth. “I bet it would be the perfect date spot, if it wasn’t so wild. Story of my life, though, huh?”

“So, uh, that detective, right? Dark? Man, are they a mystery. Do they have any heart strings?” B said, trying to change the topic again. Talking about this Senpai clearly made them sad, and he’d hate to see his friend like that.

“Them? Oh yeah, they’re weird too. Why does everyone-“

Their sentence was cut short as an enormous vine shot forward, wrapping around Yan's leg and dragging them screaming through the ivy.

"YAN!" B shouted, running after them through the foliage. He had worried something like this would happen, the Library was full of danger for anyone who didn't know how to navigate it. He pushed through the curtain of ivy and stumbled into the Gardening Section.

The narrow row of bookshelves opened into a large courtyard where flowers of all kinds grew across the grass-covered ground. Trees blooming with blossoms and fresh fruit towered above it, reaching the vaulted ceiling where sunlight poured through a tinted glass window. A small gardening shed sat to the side next to a tree stump with a hatchet still embedded in its surface. Bookshelves coated in a thick layer of ivy formed a wall enclosing it all in.

At the very center of the courtyard was a giant orange flower, over four times as tall as B. Normally its petals were closed together like a Venus fly trap, but today they were open, revealing the sharp and dangerous barbs lining the inside of the petals, and its many vine-like appendages were whipping around like crazy. B had to duck to avoid more than one almost smashing into his head.

Up ahead he saw Yan struggling against the vine wrapped around their leg. They had managed to grab onto a flowering cherry blossom tree and were struggling to hold on, trying to kick the plant off them with their free leg. B jumped into action- he sprinted towards the stump by the shed, bobbing and weaving around the violent plant appendages. He dove for the axe on the stump, nearly getting slammed in the chest by a vine that he thankfully narrowly dodged. Yan’s shouts grew louder and more panicked as they felt their arms start to slip.

No time to lose, B yanked the axe out of the stump and charged forwards, leaping and dodging with great agility. Just as Yan’s grip finally gave out he raised the axe over his head and lunged forward, cleaving the vine connecting  Yan to the plant in two with great ease.

"We have to get to cover!" B pulled Yan to their feet as they let out a string of curses. He frantically looked around, eyes landing on the storage shed. "Follow me!"

B grabbed Yan by the wrist and started running back to the shed, pulling them along behind him. They both sprinted as fast as they could, doing their best not to trip or get separated. B dove towards the door, slamming it open with his shoulder and just barely managing to turn around close it before a large heavy vine slammed into the wall. A few more slams came after, followed by more angry thrashing sounds before things seemed to calm down a bit.

“What. The wuck. Was that!?” Yan yelled gesturing wildly. “What the wuck that, B!?”

“Look, dude, I’m real sorry. I didn’t know Daisy was going to be so touchy today. I’ll have to deal with that later,” B sighed, running a hand through his hair. He slumped on a bench sitting by the wall, just glad to be able to stop and catch his breath a bit.

“That thing has a name? And what do you mean touchy today!? You knew it was there and you didn’t think to mention the giant plant monster in the middle of the ‘pretty little garden’!?” Yan started to rant and pace back and forth a little, still jumpy from the scare. Eventually they just collapsed to the floor, sitting with their back to a worn trunk. "What are we gonna do now?"

"We'll have to make a break for it once she tires herself out," B shrugged.

"Maybe there's something in here to help us fight it? This is a storage shed after all, maybe there are some shears or something.” Yan turned to the trunk and flipped the brass latches, pushing the heavy wooden lid open.

"Wait, Yan, don't-!” B tried to stop them but Yan already opened the trunk.

"Woah," they muttered. "What’s all this?"

The trunk was filled to the brim with a strange collection of items; a pearl necklace, a mini bronze statuette of an octopus, an old mp3 player, a stuffed fox, a dagger with a bejeweled hilt, a diamond ring, a gilded hourglass, an Altoids tin, and a picture frame holding a photo of a smiling family.

"They're magic items," B explained as he stood up to look at the contents of the trunk with them. "They're all filled with super powerful core magics. We store them here until that fades into pure magic and the item can be used again. We keep them in little hideaways like this, scattered across the Library. That's why Daisy is here, to protect the items."

"So all of these used to belong to wizards?" Yan asked, B nodding in return. They reached into the trunk and pulled out a pair of scissors. It had a red handle. On one side there was a little image of a heart, and on the other an image of a person with a small circle over their chest; the symbols for heart cores and soul cores, respectively. Yan couldn't help but stare at them- something about the scissors fascinated them. They could practically feel the powerful magic it contained radiating off of it, much stronger than the other items in the trunk.

"It looks like Daisy's calmed down a bit." B pulled them out of their thoughts. He had the door cracked open, enough to look out into the courtyard. The orange flower was drooped over, the vines beginning to recede back into the base. He opened the door and took a careful step out. He looked back into the shed to see Yan still sitting in front of the chest, holding onto the lip of it. They hesitated before closing it with a dull thud. "Yan?"

"I'm coming.” They stood up and moved to stand behind him.

"Follow my lead," B said. He skirted the edges of the courtyard, back to the ivy-covered bookshelves. He held his breath as he moved slowly so as to not disturb the drooping flower in the center. He held the axe in one hand, the other in front of his friend. As soon as they reached a hole in the bookshelf wall, B dropped the axe and the two broke into a sprint, running as fast as they could until the foliage underfoot became plain carpet.

"That was insane," Yan said between heavy breathes. The two stopped at a junction between bookshelves to catch their breath. "You seriously deal with this kind of stuff on a daily basis?"

"You don't know the half of it," B panted. He pointed down the aisle to their left. "Soul Magic Section should be down that way."

Yan looked around at the spot they stood in. Their eyes rested at a sudden new aisle across from them with confusion. Unlike the rest of the Library, it was dark, as if the lights overhead were out. So dark they couldn't even see what went beyond it. They could've sworn they heard whispers coming from that direction, so far away that they couldn't distinguish what was being said. "B, what's that section?" Their voice was shaky, something about it unsettled them.

"Huh?" B turned to look at the section. His face dropped. "Nope." He grabbed Yan by the shoulders and quickly steered them down the left row. "That's the Dead Zone. We have to stay, far, far away from that."

"What?" Yan turned to look at him. "What's the Dead Zone?"

"It's where all the darkest, most forbidden magic is stored." B's voice was laced with panic. "It's incredibly dangerous. Only one person has ever gone in and made it back out alive."

"Who?"

"I-I'm not supposed to say," he stuttered. Now that they were far enough away, he let go of Yan's shoulders and slowed the pace down a bit. They continued walking on their own.

"Why not?" Yan was concerned, they'd never seen B so nervous before.

"G doesn't want me to talk about it.” He tugged at the end of his scarf. "Says it brings up unpleasant memories, something about the last apprentice. But they're banned for life, I think. They scare me a bit to be honest. If someone other than the Head Librarian could survive that, they must be pretty powerful."

"Have you ever gotten near it?" Yan asked.

"Once. Biggest mistake of my life. I had nightmares for weeks, not to mention what happened when G found out I got too close.” B's voice dropped to a grave tone, “he gave me a forty minute lecture and made me clean the bathrooms."

"That sounds awf- wait, this place has bathrooms?" Yan smirked at the idea.

"Oh yeah. Kind of hard to find though, depending on how badly you need it," he shrugged.

"From what I've seen today, I shouldn't be surprised."

"This place really is crazy, huh?" He was smiling again. "I mean, there's a garden, a gym with a pool, a section full of life-sized board games including D&D, a room full of cats, a bit of Antarctica, the sun room-"

"Oh," Yan said. "Like a patio?"

"No, it's a room with an actual sun," B corrected them. "It's huge, and it has little models of the planets revolving around it. It's really cool looking."

“You should show it to me some time, as long as it doesn’t turn out there’s a super deadly alien living there that you forgot to mention. Though let’s take a less dangerous route next time, please.”

"Sounds like a plan," he smiled.

The row of shelves ended abruptly with a bronze spiral staircase leading up to a trapdoor on the ceiling. On the door was a plaque engraved with the same emblem of a person with a circle over their chest. B quickly climbed the staircase, Yan carefully following after. He reached the top, pushing open the trapdoor and climbing inside. He held out a hand to help his friend through.

Yan stared in awe of the room as they climbed in. It reminded them of an observatory. The room was covered by a large dome, the ceiling made entirely of stained glass forming a mosaic of wizards with colorful magic dancing off their hands. The walls and floor were made from sturdy wood, doors of the same material lining the walls. The most remarkable thing, Yan noted, were all the books floating through the air, held aloft by sparks of pure magic. Some floated near the roof, others only a foot or so off the ground.

"G said they needed some books on basic soul magic," B recalled. "So just grab something close to the ground and we can leave."

Yan nodded and set to work, strolling around the room to find what looked appropriate. They looked up at the books floating high above their head, filled with yellowed pages and adorned with ancient runes. The kinds of books you could find in the hands of only the most powerful wizards. The ones closer to the ground were more simple, reminding Yan of the textbooks at Academy. They eventually settled on a copy of The Art of Soul Magic: An Introduction, which they almost stepped on because it had been hovering barely an inch off the ground. They turned to see B, partially hidden by a stack of spell-books.

"Do you need help with that?" they giggled.

"Nah, I got this," B said, blatantly ignoring the fact that he had just dropped two. "This way." He turned and walked over to one of the doors, letting Yan open it for him. It lead into another narrow row of bookshelves. The two walked for maybe ten feet before suddenly arriving back in the lobby of the Library. G and Dark were still sitting in their respective spots from when they left.

"Wait-" Yan glanced around in confusion. "Didn't we go upstairs? In the opposite direction?"

B nudged past them and placed the pile of books on the table next to Dark, who jumped at the sudden loud noise. "Don't think about it too hard, you'll give yourself a headache."

G stood up from his desk and walked over to Dark's table, where they were looking over the books B had just dropped there. The quill followed him, quickly jotting down the book titles on a small notepad. G looked up at his apprentice.

"Thank you, B," he nodded. "That's all for today. You're free to go."

“Sweet!” B said, pumping his fist in the air. He started to make his way to the front door, an excited grin shining on his face. “Come on, Yan, I can’t wait to show you this cool show! It’s called Little Shop of Horrors and it’s supposed to be real funny.”

“Can’t wait,” Yan giggled, hurrying after him. They turn around before they leave, calling “Good luck with your studies, Dark!” And waving goodbye at the tired detective before quickly moving back to catch up.

“Ah, to be that young and careless again,” G mused as he finished double checking all of the books.

“You care about them, admit it,” Dark said, opening the copy of The Art of Soul Magic: An Introduction.

G rolled his eyes, walking back to his desk and almost relaxing in his chair. He felt a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Maybe he did care for them, just a little.

#wwoww au #wwoww dark #wwoww google #wwoww bing #wwoww yan #darkiplier #googleplier #bingiplier #yandereplier #wwoww story #markiplier

[wwoww-au]

The Good Doctor

Dark woke up in a bright room. They had a pounding headache, and something was attached to their arm. They shot up in bed as the memories came flooding back- the lights, the show, the food, the basement, and Bim.  They looked around wildly, mild panic setting in before they remembered what had happened after. Their retrieval from the streets of south London, and the long trip back to the Committee. Maybe they really did need those vacation days that Abe always pressured them to take.

They were in some sort of hospital bed, a curtain partitioning them from the rest of the room. A slow IV drip filled with restorative magic was attached to their arm, helping them return to full strength. There were bandages around their wrists and ankles, and it hurt to move them. As they tried to get their bearings, they spotted a shadow walking around the room and tried to call out to them, but the only thing that came out was a raspy gurgle.

The shadow moved closer and the curtains were pushed aside to reveal Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein, holding a mug full of steaming liquid. The doctor looked exhausted, but managed a brief smile for his patient.

“Good to see you’re up so soon. Normally those subjected to that much corrupt magic take a longer time to heal,” the doctor said quietly as he carefully handed the mug to Dark. They winced as they felt their wrist sting a bit from the strain of holding the mug.

“What is this, some kind of healing potion?” they asked in a whisper. It smelled good for a healing potion, a sweet and warm scent.

“Something like that,” Henrik replied, smiling for a moment and folding his hands in front of him. “Tea with honey and lemon, for your throat. Whatever horrible spell that madman used did some severe damage to your throat, so it will take a few weeks to fully recover. Just drink one of these once a day and try not to talk too much, and your throat will be right as rain.”

Dark nodded in confirmation. “Thank you, doctor,” they whispered. “If that's it, I think I'll be going.” They moved to get up, hissing as the pain in their wrists and ankles flared up again.

“Where do you think you're going?” Henrik's voice was calm, but with an underlying panicked tone. He placed a hand on Dark's shoulder to push them back down, but pulled back when they instinctively flinched at the gentle touch. “The corrupt magic hasn't fully filtered out of your body yet, what you need now is to rest.” Dark grumbled under their breath before settling back on the bed with a huff. They were sure they’d feel better walking around and getting some fresh air, but they weren’t about to strain their voice arguing.

Henrik let out a tired sigh and pulled off his glasses, wiping off a few specks of dust with a simple white handkerchief. “Drink the tea,” he ordered gently, “and get some rest. I’ll check on you in an hour and we’ll see how you’re doing then, alright?”

Dark nodded and took a sip of the hot tea. It was sweet and soothing, but still stung slightly as they swallowed. “Thanks, doctor,” they said softly, setting the mug on a side table.

“For the last time, please call me Henrik,” the doctor huffed. “I’m only practicing because I have no other choice. I’d hardly consider myself a doctor.” He tensed and looked towards the end of Dark’s bed.

Dark hesitated. They could tell Henrik didn’t want to talk about what he’d done to get his item broken, but at the same time, Dark couldn’t think of a better time to ask. They hadn’t gotten the opportunity to bring it up the many other times they’d visited Henrik. They considered trying to ask Abe again, but quickly dismissed the idea. Henrik was the only one who was likely at all to give them a clear answer.

“What did you do?” they asked finally, stopping Henrik in his tracks as he was about to walk away. They could see his shoulders tighten, and then sag. He let out a shaky breath before turning to face Dark again.

Henrik gave Dark a strained smile. “I tried to play god,” he said, voice catching slightly. Before Dark could press him further, the doctor turned on his heel and pushed past the curtain, leaving Dark alone. Another question they’d never know the answer to.

Dark slid down more into the bed and let out another huff. They’d been met with closed doors ever since they showed up at the Crime Department. If they snooped too much into things, they’d be gently steered away like a nosy child. They felt more and more like an outsider every day. If it didn’t have to do with Warfstache, it wasn’t deemed necessary for Dark to know.

Dark tried to fall asleep and rest like Henrik had ordered, but every time they closed their eyes, all they saw was Bim’s face, jagged teeth too close for comfort. The minutes seemed to drag along, and Dark eventually swung their legs over the side of the bed. They downed the rest of the tea quickly and carefully detached the IV drip. When they peered their head around the curtain, Henrik was nowhere to be seen. He must have gone off to his room somewhere. Dark took their coat off of the rack by the door and slipped out of the office.

“Hello, Dark.”

Dark froze in their tracks, cringing at the sound of the voice behind them. Maybe if they ignored him, he’d go away. If they just kept walking-

“Dude, don’t ignore me. That’s rude.”

Dark let out a tired sigh before turning around and facing one of the biggest names in the Crime Department, and the second biggest pain in their ass.

Mare Sharp.

His flawlessly messy black hair covered one eye, and the iridescent blue scars running down his face shimmered perfectly in the light. He wore a clever, knowing smirk, and twirled the long wire of his microphone around one finger.

“What do you want, Mare?” Dark sighed, praying for some easy way to escape the conversation.

“Well, that’s no way to greet a friend,” Mare teased. Dark glared. “I was coming to visit you, but I guess ol’ Grump-lestein released you early.” He frowned and tapped his chin, then grinned wickedly. “Oh wait, he didn’t release you early, did he?”

Dark looked down and shuffled their feet. “It’s none of your business,” they grumbled, shoving their hands in their pockets.

“Well, no,” Mare chuckled, “but if I were you, I wouldn’t be trying to get into any more trouble than you already are.” Dark’s head snapped back up, meeting Mare’s smug gaze.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” they asked, eyes wide. They were in trouble? For what? What had they done wrong?

“Well, you didn’t catch Warfstache again, for one,” Mare said, voice dripping with theatrical sympathy. “You got way off mission, and you almost got Abe killed.”

“That- I- That wasn’t my fault!” Dark stammered, throwing their hands in the air. “This stupid glittery conman said he’d lead us to Warfstache! It’s not my fault he lied!”

“Yeah, well- wait, you met Marvin?”

“Is that important?” Dark raised an eyebrow.

“N-no!” Mare yelped, looking away quickly. “You didn’t catch him, did you?”

Dark thought they spied a red tint spreading across Mare’s face, but it was gone before they could be sure. “No,” they answered slowly. “He knocked us out and turned us over to Trimmer.”

Mare cleared his throat and turned away from Dark. “Well, good luck with the Committee,” he said, giving Dark a single wave before stalking away, head low and coat flowing behind him.

Dark chuckled and turned the other way, shaking their head slightly as they went. They knew the look of someone with a crush. Whatever encounter Mare had had with Marvin, it’d left a lasting impression.

.

.

Henrik made sure the curtain was completely closed before quietly pushing aside the carpet covering the trapdoor next to his desk. He lifted the trapdoor slowly, letting out a sigh of relief when it didn’t creak and revealing a steep staircase down into the basement. Stealing one last glance over his shoulder, he crept down as silently as he could, gently lowering the hatch behind him. He walked carefully down the shoddy stairs, hand grazing against a familiar spot of the wall in search of the light switch in the dark. He flipped the switch, and single bare lightbulb weakly flickered to life to illuminate the room.

Something flew by his head, hitting the wall behind him with a dull thud. Henrik turned to find a bloodstained knife buried into the wall mere inches from his face. Completely unphased, he simply sighed and turned back to the room. “Another dead end?” he called quietly to a figure sitting hunched over a desk near the back of the dimly lit room.

“This is the third fucking book you’ve brought me this week, and I still haven’t found anything that can be useful!” the figure spat, slamming a heavy leather-bound book shut. He abruptly stood up and stalked towards the center of the room, carrying the book with him. Now under direct light, the figure’s gaunt appearance was more visible. He had pallid skin and sunken, mismatched eyes. A jagged wound split his neck, fresh blood staining the collar of his already dirty black shirt.

“Anti, I’ve told you before, there isn’t a lot of actually helpful research on it. There’s only so many books available, even at the Library.” Henrik said sympathetically, unphased by the other’s injury. “We just have to keep looking.”

“You’ve been saying that for the past… I don’t know how long! I’m tired of there not being any leads. We’re just going in fucking circles at this point!” Anti shouted, clearly frustrated. He turned to face a wall, and chucked the book as hard as he could. It slammed against the wall, falling to the ground next to a messy bed.

Henrik winced at the loud noise. “I know you’re frustrated, but could you please try to be a little more quiet? I have a patient upstairs, and they’re from the Crime Department. I’m on thin ice as it is, do you know what they’ll do to me if they find out I have an undead person living down here? Do you know what they’ll do to you?”

Anti kept his back turned to Henrik to hide the look of regret on his face. He turned on his heel, arms crossed. “Whatever…” he grumbled, shooting a sneer at Henrik.

He stalked back over to the desk, collapsing in the beat up leather chair with stuffing coming out of several gashes in its leather. He leaned forward and poked at a jar that sat there, smiling when he saw movement in the murky green liquid. “Heya, Sam,” he crooned, the living eyeball running itself into the glass to meet Anti’s finger. “Aw, looks like someone wants a little attention.” He twirled his finger across the glass, laughing as the little eyeball followed it with the intensity of a kitten chasing a laser pointer.

Henrik sighed. He and his roommate always tended to argue over the smallest things, and some days it would make him too exhausted to deal with anything. He walked over and picked up the fallen book, walking back to the stairs as he let out yet another exhausted sigh. “I'll get you another book as soon as I can, but you know we have to be careful. Too many trips to the Library and the Committee might get suspicious.” He didn’t bother facing Anti as he spoke. All he got in response was a low growl, as always. Anti consistently seemed to be angry or frustrated at something and everything, and it was useless to try to reason with him. The best Henrik could do was ignore him or leave the room, and he had a patient he needed to treat anyways. “Oh, and Sam’s fluid needs to be cleaned,” Henrik added. “It’s your turn.”

He trudged back up the stairs, turning the light off as he went. After a quick peek to make sure no one was in his room, he quietly snuck out of the basement and closed the trap door behind him. He walked into his office, but instead of a sleeping patient he saw an empty bed. He heard voices outside the door to the hallway, and recognized both. Normally he would at least attempt to bring Dark back in, but he was far too tired to argue with two more people just as stubborn as Anti; so instead he pulled out his flask and took a few long swallows.

“I’m not dealing with that shit,” he muttered to himself, sitting down at his desk to organize some paperwork. Reaching into his desk to retrieve the stack of papers, he hesitated before sliding open a small compartment in the back. Before he could remove its contents, however, there was a loud knock at his door, and an enthusiastic voice calling his name.

“Henrik, I know you’re in there!” the voice called cheerfully. Henrik tightened the lid on his flask and tossed it in the desk drawer before closing it and standing up. Was it really Sunday already? He glanced at the clock on the wall as he approached the door. Three in the afternoon, right on time.

“Henrik!” The doctor was pulled off of his feet and into a tight bear hug as soon as he opened the door. He pretended to gasp for air when he was finally let go.

Jackie Boymin towered over Henrik, looking down at him with a radiant grin. It felt like Henrik was staring up at his polar opposite. Jackie was kind, understanding, friendly, positive, happy, and everything else that Henrik wasn’t. He had also been assigned Henrik’s personal escort, and had self-assigned himself as Henrik’s therapist. Jackie absolutely radiated positivity, which was even more obvious when compared with Henrik. Jackie’s positive energy was only amplified by the buttons on his bright red coat lapels, each enchanted to radiate their own positive field. His short, messy brown hair was pushed back by a pair of blue and gold goggles- his magic item.

“Afternoon, Jackie,” Henrik huffed, stepping aside to let Jackie into the office. He could have sworn the room visibly brightened as his tall companion bounced inside.

“Good afternoon, Henrik!” Jackie responded cheerily, producing a pair of large, comfortable chairs with a flick of his wrist. He took a seat, and gestured to the one across from him. “How are you doing today?”

“I’ve been better,” Henrik sighed, practically falling into the soft chair cushions. “Mostly just tired.” Henrik’s response was always the same, but it never seemed to discourage Jackie. Nothing discouraged Jackie.

“Have you been getting enough sleep lately?” Jackie asked, clearly hoping Henrik’s response would change at least somewhat.

Henrik shook his head, and Jackie let out a patient sigh. “You need to sleep, Henrik,” Jackie said gently. “I know it’s hard, but you’ll feel better if you’re well rested. I don’t know if it would help, but perhaps we could arrange for the WC to let me—”

“I don’t need a roommate,” Henrik interrupted, shaking his head again. “I sleep better on my own.” Truth be told, Henrik probably wouldn’t mind having Jackie as a roommate, but it wasn’t for his own sake that he repeatedly turned down the positivity wizard’s company. He couldn’t risk anyone finding Anti. The Committee wouldn’t be pleased with Henrik if they found the dead body beneath his floor boards, or any of their research for that matter.

Jackie’s face showed that he severely doubted that, but he wasn’t going to push him on it. “Alright, but if you ever change your mind, you can-“

“I can go and ask you. I know.” There was an awkward silence for a minute, and Henrik had to stop himself from instinctually reaching for his flask.

“So, how are you doing? Have you made any progress?”

“Yes. I haven’t touched a drink in a while.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, a few minutes was a while.

“You haven’t been been following the plan at all, have you?”

“I have, I promise. You can check if you want, you won’t find anything.” Of course he wouldn’t, Henrik had moved all of his usual hiding spots. Jackie gave him a doubtful look as he stood up and began to search around, as he was required to every visit. He only remembered the flask he had carelessly tossed into the drawer when Jackie pulled it out with a sigh.

“I don’t think this is apple juice, Henrik,” Jackie teased, twisting the lid off of the flask and giving its contents a whiff. He scrunched up his nose and quickly replaced the lid. Henrik appreciated his attempt to sound lighthearted, but he could tell Jackie was disappointed.

“I have been making progress,” Henrik half-mumbled, looking down at the floor. “It’s just to take the edge off.” He glanced up at Jackie, fully prepared to see just how let down he looked. Instead, he was greeted with sympathetic eyes and a gentle smile. Henrik didn’t know what he’d done to deserve Jackie.

Jackie sighed and tossed the flask back in the desk drawer. “I know,” he said, giving Henrik a gentle pat on his shoulder before sitting down again. Henrik watched tensely as Jackie produced a pen and clipboard from his pocket and began checking off a list. It happened every week, but watching Jackie check off his list for the Committee was always just as stressful. Henrik itched to grab his flask out of his drawer, but not while Jackie was sitting right there. He’d already disappointed the positivity wizard enough.

After what felt like an eternity, Jackie slipped the checklist back in his pocket and stood up, a wide grin spread across his face. “Anything else I can do for you, Henrik?” he asked, helping the doctor out of his chair. “Books, food, supplies?”

“Not today,” Henrik replied, somewhat sheepishly. “You are too kind to me, Jackie. I don’t deserve it.” Henrik shoved his hands in his pockets, avoiding looking up at Jackie. He tensed when Jackie pulled him close in a gentle hug.

“How many times am I going to have to tell you, Henrik?” Jackie chuckled. “No matter what you’ve done, you deserve to be happy as much as everyone else.” He held Henrik out at arms length, hands clasped firmly on the doctor’s shoulders. “Now, I’ll see you next week, same time, right?”

Henrik nodded silently, afraid that if he tried to speak he’d just burst out into tears instead. He was so used to being scorned at every turn whenever he stepped out of his office, Jackie’s unconditional kindness constantly caught him off guard. He wouldn’t blame Jackie if he ever quit trying. Henrik was more of a hopeless case than the file marked ‘Bim Trimmer.’

“Chin up, Henrik,” Jackie said suddenly. “Things will get better, I promise. Here—” Jackie popped one of the pins off of his lapel, a simple black and silver diamond— “You need this more than I do.” Before Henrik could protest, Jackie had already stuck the pin on the collar of his shirt. It felt… warm, like stepping outside on a warm summer day. Henrik could almost picture the picnic blanket spread out on the freshly cut grass, his… no. They were gone. Henrik cleared the image from his mind and looked up at Jackie.

“Thank you, friend.” Henrik stepped aside as Jackie packed up the chairs, and opened the door for the taller wizard. Jackie gave Henrik one last hug before he stepped out the door.

“Anytime!” Jackie pointed a pair of finger guns at Henrik.

Henrik almost closed the door, but stopped when he remembered what had happened earlier. “Oh, and if you see Dark, remind them to keep drinking tea with honey!”

Jackie nodded and Henrik finished closing the door. Now that the walking beacon of positivity had left the room, the difference was clearer than night and day. Henrik immediately felt his spirit drop, only lifted slightly by the pin on his collar. He opened the door a crack and made sure that Jackie turned the corner before closing the door again. Feeling only slightly bad for betraying Jackie’s trust, Henrik pulled his flask out of the desk drawer and collapsed in the old office chair. It had been a long day, and what Jackie didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. No more patients that day meant that Henrik could spend the rest of his evening drinking and forgetting.

Jackie didn’t know what he was talking about. Henrik needed this. He wasn’t sure how he’d survive if he had to live with the constant memory of what he’d done every time he closed his eyes, not to mention the undead reminder living in his basement. Eying the door to his office one last time, Henrik opened the leg of his desk and pulled out a large bottle of whiskey, ready to down it all and forget the whole night.

#wwoww au #wwoww story #wwoww dark #wwoww henrik #wwoww mare #wwoww jackie #wwoww anti

[wwoww-au]

Father Time

    A small cafe sat at the end of the street. It had been family-owned and operated since its very beginnings, and even now generations later it was still run by the same family that started it. The bell on the entrance rang, a familiar face walking in and taking a seat. There was a lot to unfold about the man who went to sit near the back of the cafe. For one, he wore a pair of round glasses, which seemed to be weakly held together by tape, and a long brown trench coat. His hair hung almost to his shoulders and was quite a mess as if he had been walking in the wind. The most important feature of this man was the peculiar bright pink mustache that sat upon his face.

    Despite his unusual appearance, no one seemed to question his presence. Actually, it seemed as though not a single person paid him mind at all. They all simply glanced over him, even though he looked like he ought to stick out like a sore thumb. The staff gave him a menu despite knowing that he wouldn’t need one, and he played into the bit by picking it up and giving the single page a glance over. Brunch items mostly, though there was quite a selection of beverages. One could take pleasure out of what was provided here, even this strange man.

    “A martini please,” he told the server girl. There was a confused look on her face as there was no martini on the menu, but the man simply smiled. “Don’t worry, darling — they’ll know what to do.”

    And it seemed they did, as the poor confused server girl brought out the requested drink. Though she didn’t entirely understand how he was able to get something they didn’t have the ingredients for, there were no questions asked when the glass was set on the table. The drink was in a martini glass, but it itself held no resemblance to any regular martini. Something about it was strange, almost magical. Before the man could manage to take a single sip of his drink the bell over the door rang again, though this time it was a more violent sound followed by the slam of the door closing.

    Heads turned to the new figure, one that towered over the crowd in the cafe. It sounded like they were panting, but their face was blurred. Despite being a complete stranger to the cafe, they were easily recognized by one person in the small room.

The same man from before, with his peculiar order and bold fashion, now held an almost welcoming smile. The man rose from his seat and looked towards this blurred face, seeming as if he were greeting an old friend.

    “Ah, you’ve made it at last! I thought you’d never—”

“Cut the shit, thief.”

    The mustached man frowned. “Now now, there’s no need for name calling,” he huffed, placing his free hand on his hip. “I was going to pay.”

    “You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” the stranger growled. “Just come with me so we can get this over with.”

    Trying again to sip his drink, the mustached man was interrupted once more by the slamming of a fist on one of the tables. The mood seemed to change almost instantly. The stranger’s eyes stayed on the same man, but their voice echoed throughout the cafe.

    “Get out. Everyone. Except you.” Their hand rose to point at his target, the martini-holding thief who still didn’t seem to be taking this seriously.

    People fled the cafe, pushing each other out of the way to get to the door. Even the server girl left in quite a hurry. Chairs were pulled out and food left sitting on the table; even a few purses and phones were left behind after the hurried steps of the departing customers. Eventually, there were only two people left in the room: the angry stranger and the mustached man. The stranger’s finger still aggressively pointing, an uneasy atmosphere had settled on the room.

    “Now, it’s time for you to stop running and give what you stole back to whom it belongs.”

    The mustached man gave a soft chuckle, finally setting the martini down. “All this ruckus, just for me? That’s quite sweet and rather endearing. It’s good to know that some people care. Though about handing things over-” He moved back his coat, revealing a wand holster strapped to his belt. “Not exactly the best time for that. Rain check maybe? Try a Tuesday.”

    And with his hand on the wand, the pink man fell back into a portal and was gone. Of course, the stranger let out a frustrated yell, shoving a few chairs around and loudly expressing just how angry they were.

    “I’ll get you Warfstache if it’s the last thing I do!”

#wwoww au #wwoww dark #wwoww warfstache #wwoww story