- Iplier Manor -

Warning: slight Mark x Wilford is happening at the end. Just wanted to say this.

Rewritten: 08/07/20

Dark reappeared in the hallway of the Iplier Manor, Mark lying unconscious in his arms. Dark sighed, the comforting feeling of being home spreading through him. He took a few steps forwards and turned left, entering the living room. In front of him sat two egos on the couch watching TV. One of the egos turned their head and a light pink moustache flashed above his upper lip. His eyes glistered with joy as he looked at his grey skinned companion.

"Dark! You're back! I thought you'd never come back home~" said the giggly man with joy and jumped over the couch.

"Of course I am, I could never leave a bunch of idiots like you here alone," Dark softly spoke and managed to crack a smile.

"Of course you couldn't. Oh! I see you have something there with you~" the odd man said in a playful tone, wiggling his moustache a little as his eyes scanned Mark's form.

"Dark? What are you doing here? I thought you'd be out for much longer?" the other ego on the couch asked, his eyes showing confusion and surprise with a small hint of nervousness.

"Well, Bim, I had to change my plans and it ended up in being back a bit early," Dark answered the gameshow host.

"You wanna share this beauty upstairs~? We could have a good time together," Wil continued in a more flirtatious way, wiggling his eyebrows knowingly. Dark narrowed his eyes, his face scrunching up a little in disgust. Had Wilford touched his shelf again? Dark hoped for the sake of god not; that damn whiskey wasn't the cheapest.

"Wilford, you realize this is a man, right?"

"Well, of course I do! I'm well aware of that, Darkidoo. But after all, I love all configurations of beings so there's no problem with having a little fun," Wilford huffed, straightening his posture and crossing his arms, pouting in the slightest.

"Wilford- I- No- It's-" Dark tried to find words, but failed, the wheels in his head spinning for him to find a response.

The thought of Wilford and Mark, and eventually him, having something... intimate wasn't the most pleasant thought. It actually made him shiver in the slightest. If Wilford would have had something with their creator, he would indirectly have had something with like... all of the egos.
Dark shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"I suggest you that you won't do anything too... intimate with him, Wilford. It will carry consequences you don't want to live through," Darkiplier warned the pink loving man and walked past him, crossing the entire room and climbing up the wide staircase.

Dark quickly moved towards the guest room to the very end of the corridor where all the egos' rooms were located. As he pushed the wooden door open, he felt Mark steering in his unconscious state. The demon laid him down on the bed and cuffed one of Mark's hands to the bed post. After that he slapped the youtuber hard across the face, making him jolt up. Mark took in quick and shallow breaths, wide eyes darting to the ceiling.

"Good afternoon," was all the demon said, a smug smirk on his face. It took Mark a few minutes before realizing that he wasn't in his home and that his dark counterpart was there with him.

"Wha- D-dark? What- where am I? What have you done?! Why the hell did you slap me?!" Mark loudly complained, surprising Dark a bit by the sudden raise of voice.

"Well, you are not in your home, as you can see. However, I actually didn't mean to wake you from your slumber, I just wanted to make sure you're not dead yet," the demonic creature answered, cracking his neck to the side and let a bit of his demonic magic float around him.

Dark had a few abilities, but they weren't that super special as you might think. This time, he used one of his weaker but most efficient powers; it allowed him to intrude Mark's mind and manipulating him. In general, you could say that this power can put the people in reach into a sleep-like or unconscious state.
And it so happened to Mark once again, that he fell into said state as his eyes slipped close and his body fell limp again.

"Tze, I just wanted to see how you'd react. Not like I intentionally wanted to slap you awake," Dark grumpily mumbled to himself, starring at Mark for another moment before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

Dark walked through the empty corridor and down the stairs, back to the living room. There were still Wilford and Bim sitting on the couch. Dark walked around the couch to a leather reading chair and a huge bookshelf beside it. He scanned over the various titles and decided to pull out a book a simple looking book. It had a dark green and black cover with sparkles of blue in its corners, the letters of the title sewn in with golden thread.

" 'Chaotic Us', hm?" Dark softly hummed to himself and sat down in the reading chair. He opened the book and started reading while his dear friend, Wilford, and assistant, Bim, were watching a film.
- - - -

A few hours past when Wilford and Bim finished their spontaneous movie marathon. Bim ended up falling asleep and now slightly snore as their last film ended. Wilford softly sight and pushed the game show host off his shoulder. The pink moustached man threw a glance to the reading chair where his dear friend and companion Darkiplier sat, the book he began reading closed and laying in his lap, his hands neatly folded on top of it and his eyes closed. He seemed so relaxed and calm, a rare view to say the least. Dark had usually his guard up and seemed rather tense at most times.

"Dark?" Wilford asked in a whisper-tone. When Dark didn't answer after a pause filled with silence, Wilford asked again, a bit louder this time.

"Dark? You awake?"

When he didn't get an answer once again, he smugly grinned and stood up, stretched his back a bit and vanished in a poof of pink glittery smoke.
When Wilford reappeared, he found himself in the weakly lit guest room. The heavy curtains let only a few sun rays in, the dust dancing in the little light that it's given. Mark still laid on the bed, trying to free himself from the handcuff that trapped him in this very room. Wilford just watched with amusement as his creator tried his best but miserably failed.
Mark let out a frustrated sigh and flopped back onto his back, his eyes fixed to the white ceiling above him.

"Need a helping hand there, pal?" Wilford asked with this characteristic slur in his voice.

Mark snapped his head towards the strange man and scooted as far back to the edge of the bed as possible.

"W-who are you?!" Mark screeched, eyes widened with a hint of fear.

"Who I am? Don't you know the famous Wilford Motherlovin' Warfstache?!" Wil exclaimed and walked towards Mark.

"W-wait, Wilford? Is it really...you...?" he asked surprised, his tone softening a little at the end.

"Pff, of course it is me! Who else could look as handsome as good 'ol Wilfy?" he said, wiggling his moustache a bit when he reached the bed.

There was a moment of silence when neither of them spoke and just starred at the other. Only the quiet chirping of the birds outside filled the air, along with the damped yelling of another man, something along the lines of "-King of the Squirrels!".

"So?", Wilford broke the heavy silence and offered a small grin, "You wanna take my help or what?"

Mark looked at him suspiciously through narrowed eyes before he slowly nodded, watching closely as Wilford happily grinned and walked around the bed up to him. The pink loving man looked intently at the handcuff and smiled again as he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.
A few minutes later Wilford came back with a bolt cutter in one of his hands. With a small 'click!' he cut the metal restrain in two and freed his creator.

"Thanks," was all Mark mumbled as he sat up properly and took in a deep breath before exhaling.

"So, what are you giving me in return, handsome?" Wil asked when he positioned himself right in front of Mark with crossed arms.

"Excuse me?" he questioned confused and looked up at Wilford.

"You heard me. What do I get in return?"

"I thought you'd help me for free, as an act of kindness," Mark answered unsure. He knew Wilford more or the less pretty well, so he could tell that this man was more than unpredictable.

"Dear, nothing in this world if for free."

Wilford put two fingers under Mark's chin and lifted his head slightly so he would look into his brow eyes. Mark unwillingly let Wilford do his thing, unsure if his creation would draw his gun on him or even stab him, if he didn't do as he was told. So, he obeyed and looked Wilford in the eyes, hoping that someone, anyone, would come and safe his god forsaken life.

But nobody came...

"How about you give good 'ol Wilfy a little kiss," the moustached man rather stated than suggested with a charming smirk.

Mark furrowed his eyebrows and leaned out of Wilford's touch. He was willing to do many things to please the man before him, but there was a line he didn't want to cross. And this line began with kissing him. Unwillingly. Without consent.

"Is there something else I can do for you? Anything? Something not involving... you at all?" Mark tried to snake his way around so he could still be in his comfort zone.

"If you want something more...intimate, we can do this instead," Wilford caught Mark's chin again in his hand and pulled him back more firmly, faces now only inches apart.

The youtuber's breath hitched and his cheeks flushed a light pink as an uncomfortable feeling spread through him. This didn't go unnoticed by Wil as he caressed his cheek with his thump while his typical cocky grin spread across his tanned face.

"No need to be shy," Wilford purred and leaned in a little more. His sweet breath now mixing with Mark's.

"I don't want this, Wil-"

Mark was cut off when Wilford leaned in and pressed a kiss on his lips. Mark's eyes widened in shock as he tried to lean back, but only felt Wilford's other hand on the back of his head. A chocked sound came from the back of Mark's throat and he felt how his body started to tremble in the slightest. Why all of a sudden was he so sensitive? Why did his mind tell his body to cry in almost any situation.
Before he could even think of anything else than crying out of pure embarrassment and anger, the ego pulled away and stood straight in front of Mark again.

His lips are curled into a small smile as he looked at the disgusted and hate filled face of Mark's.

"There. That's it. Was it that hard?" Wilford asked plainly and sat down on the bed beside the still shocked male.

"You are disgusting," Mark mumbled as a shiver ran down his spine and his hands balled into fists.

"What?"

"Why have you just kissed me? I- I didn't want to do this! I didn't give consent! What have I done to be just used like a-!" Mark was cut off mid-sentence when Wilford slung an arm around his shoulder and pulled him into a tight hug.

The half Korean took it some time to process what just happened. He practically kissed himself, unwillingly. And now he's in a tight hug with one of his creations...

"It doesn't matter anyways," Mark thought and hugged the reporter back, his arms loosely warped around the male.

Mark silently began sobbing while Wilford held him in his arms, carefully pushing his creator away so the slightly smaller man could lean against Wilford's shoulder. After quite some time Mark got himself back together and sat up beside the moustached man.

"I hate you, Warfstache," was all Mark said with a slightly quivering voice, starring at the ground.

"I know you do, Mark," Wilford sighed and slid his knife, from wherever he had pulled it out, out and twirled it in his hand.

"I am aware of that."

"I'm fully aware or that, Mark..."