#darkstacheweek2019

[tyrannysaurusfloof]

Darkstache Week - Day 2

Prompts: Past and Present Pairing: Darkstache Summary: Darkstache through the ages. A/N: I decided art is a good way to go for the second day of Darkstache week. I love this prompt, it’s adorable  @projectdarkstache

[pharaoh-writes]

Last day, day 7 Spring/Flowers! Look at these sleepy boys :3

@projectdarkstache

[lostcybertronian]

Darkstache Week- Day 2

Prompt: Past and present

Warnings for implied PTSD

@projectdarkstache

---

The Fourth of July was a momentous event at the Manor. Mark’s parties were always spectacular, but he really went all out when it came to the Fourth of July.

And this year would prove to be the greatest yet, Damien thought, feeling a shiver of excitement as his car pulled up the Manor’s drive. William was home for the first time in two years, and that was cause for celebration. He had been quiet, though, since his return. It was unlike him; but Damien assumed that the horrors of war could change any man.

Mark, however, insisted that William merely needed a good party. A good party, some good booze, and some good women.

And he must have decided some fireworks were in order as well, because as Damien’s driver let him out of the car a streak of light shot up into the darkening sky, lingering there for a moment before it exploded with a deafening boom.

A second later there was another. And another. And another, until the sky was filled with colors and noise and the grounds outside were flooded with partygoers, whooping and cheering them on.

William didn’t seem to be among them. Damien caught no glimpses of his friend amidst the sea of drunken faces as he made his way toward the door, nor did he hear familiar booming laughter echoing out over the crowds.

    The Manor’s front door was propped wide open, allowing Damien to walk right in, his cane tapping over perfectly polished tile- that Benjamin must have spent hours on- that gleamed under multicolored party lights.

    There were still many people inside, though most had gone out to watch the fireworks. Damien weaved in between women wearing festive flapper dresses and the men who held their arms, all the while keeping an eye out for William.

    He half expected to find him by the bar, already half-seas over and wooing some choice bit of calico, but instead he found Celine, nursing a glass of red wine.

    “Damien!” She chirped, her black-painted lips pulling into a sloppy smile. Clearly, she had had too much to drink. “I thought you’d never arrive. What kept you?”

    “Just some work,” Damien replied casually. Then, “have you seen Will? I thought he was supposed to be here tonight. He is the guest of honor, after all.”

    “I think he went upstairs.” Celine flicked her fingers dismissively. “Party pooper.”

    “Alright. I’ll go check for him there.” Damien started toward the stairs, then paused. “Take it easy, Celine. Don’t overdo it.”

    She giggled. “You worry too much.”

    The Mayor shrugged, then headed upstairs.

---

    He found William in his room, perched in an armchair that had been shoved up against the wall and holding a mug half-filled with whiskey, though he made no move to drink from it. He was pale, but still he gave Damien a grin when he eased open the door.

    “Celine told me I would find you here.” Damien crossed the room. His footsteps creaked over the decades-old wooden floor. As he spoke, there was another boom. More fireworks. “Why did you leave the party?”

    “I was feeling rather tired,” William offered, “I’ve been busy, you know.”

    Damien frowned. “Before you went off to war you loved to party, no matter how ‘busy’ you were.”

    William opened his mouth to answer but there was another boom. He flinched, fingers tightening around the handle of his mug. His eyes darted toward the window, then back to Damien.

    It dawned on him all of a sudden. He’d read about men who came back from the front-lines traumatized, and some of them were completely unable to tolerate loud noises.

    “The fireworks.” Damien murmured, staring down at him. “I can go down there, have Mark stop-”

    “No!” William lurched out of his seat, nearly spilling his drink and startling Damien into taking a step back. A moment later he paused, seeming to force his composure back into place. He set the mug down onto the nightstand beside his bed. “No. No. There’s no need for that. I-”

    The window lit up and there was a noise that shook the Manor to its foundations. William jerked, hands flying toward the pistol he always kept tucked into a holster at his side, face panicked and eyes somewhere far away.

    “Will.” Damien grabbed his hands before he could pull his gun, dropping his cane to the floor with a clatter. “It’s alright! It’s alright.”

    “My apologies,” the Colonel stammered, sounding shaken. He squeezed Damien’s hands tightly, as if his touch were the only thing keeping him there, in the present. Muttered, “they sound like gunshots.”

    “There is no need to be sorry.” Damien pulled him close. Held him there. “It’s okay.”

    “Stay with me?” William’s voice sounded small and afraid. So unlike him. The William Damien knew was large and bold and afraid of nothing.

    Damien nodded, feeling a pang of sadness in his chest. “Of course I will.”

---

    Everyone was setting off fireworks outside. It was a foolish endeavor, for a foolish holiday.

    Why was he so shaken?

    Dark shuddered as another explosion shook the windowpanes, and retreated further back into the shadows of the kitchen. Every flash of light, every deafening noise, set his teeth on edge and grated on his ears and on his nerves. Memories floundered at the fringes of his mind. Memories that weren’t even his.

    Suddenly, the door flew open, hitting the wall with a bang. Wilford barged in, clutching a fistful of unlit sparklers and wearing a wide grin.

    “Ya gotta come out and join us, Darkie!” He said, coming over and all but shoving them in Dark’s face. “Quit bein’ cooped up in here all by your lonesome.”

    “I’d rather not, Wil.” Dark cringed away from the sparklers and started toward the living room, a look of distaste crossing his face. “Leave me alone.”

    “Aw,” Wilford whined, following him like a lost puppy. “What’s the matter, Darkie? Don’t like fireworks?”

    Dark scowled, and opened his mouth to reply, only to be cut off by the crashing rumble of yet another firework being set off outside. He couldn’t repress a flinch, couldn’t banish the ringing of gunshots in his ears as he fell back, back, back over the balcony.

    But then Wilford’s hand was in his, dragging him back to the present. Dark glanced over to see him drop the sparklers to the floor.

    “What are you doing, Wilford?” He asked.   

    “Well,” Wilford said, puffing out his chest. “I’m not about t’letcha stay here all by yourself. You’ll get lonely.”

    “I assure you-”

    “Nonsense!” Wilford insisted, raising Dark’s hand to his lips. “I won’t letcha be alone.”

    Dark heaved a sigh, even as, inwardly, he felt a flicker of relief. “As you wish.”

[xpouii]

Darkstache Week: Day 7

Day 7 of Darkstache Week 2019 by @projectdarkstache

Today’s prompt was “Spring Day”

               Dark was on the balcony, eyes closed as a warm breeze blew his hair away from his face. Spring had undeniably arrived—probably weeks ago while Dark was locked up inside. He almost smiled before he heard voices, and he watched as Wilford and Google walked by below him. Perhaps it was the warmth of the sun, or the smell of flowers on the wind, but he let his eyes wander, over Wilford—and over and over—until he noticed Wilford smiling up at him. He jerked back and turned away to hide the way his cheeks were coloring before hurrying back inside.

               He’d barely sat down at his desk before Wilford was stepping through his door. Dark kept his eyes downward, wishing his face would cool down. Wil moved forward without a word, resting his hands on the large desk and leaning in. Dark slowly lifted his gaze, meeting Wilford’s eyes. “…yes?”

               Wilford smiled and sat in his chair—his because Dark wouldn’t often suffer anyone else sitting across from him while he worked, “I couldn’t help but notice you enjoying the weather. It was nice to see you in the sun. It doesn’t happen often.”

               “I thought you preferred me in the dark,” Dark muttered, trying to make a snide remark.

               Wil’s eyes darkened, and he grinned, “Oh, Dark, you know I always keep the lights on. I couldn’t bear to miss anything.”

               Dark raised an eyebrow, “Can I help you?”

               “I didn’t expect you to be so pliant!” Wilford said gleefully. “I want you to go for a swim with me.”

               “A swim?”

               “That’s right.”

               Dark snorted, “Have you lost your mind?”

               “When’s the last time we went swimming together? It’s been years! Besides, don’t you want to see me in my suit?”

               “That hideous thing?” Dark mused, trying to get out of this. On the inside he was full panic mode, sirens and screaming and desperately digging through his options.

               Wilford’s mustache twitched in amusement, “Actually I was referring to my birthday suit.”

               Dark’s neck twitched and he cleared his throat, “Wil, I have things to do.”

               “Dear Prudence,” Wilford crooned, standing and walking around to sit on Dark’s desk.

               “What are you-” Dark’s heart flipped, and his mouth twitched upward at the corner until he bit the inside of his cheek to stop it. “Don’t sing, Wil, whatever you do.”

               Wilford laughed, “Then won’t you come out to play?”

               Dark rolled his eyes, but his lips were twisting into an involuntary smile that he couldn’t will away, “You’re an insufferable idiot.”

               “That’s not the worst you’ve ever called me,” Wilford said, leaning over to kiss Dark.

               Dark smelled the flowers again, and he thought about the pink flower—and the echo of Wil’s voice in the icy void, the way it broke him out of that endless loop. Perhaps a swim wasn’t so much to ask for in return. Dark broke the kiss and stared hard at Wilford for a moment, then sighed, “Fine.”

               Wilford jumped to his feet, “Wonderful!”

               “Once the sun goes down,” Dark said. “Not a second before.”

               “I’ll make sure the pool heater is turned on,” Wilford said, walking out of Dark’s room.

               Dark rolled his eyes again, but when he tried to get back to his work, all he could do was draw flowers.

[mydetheturk]

Darkstache Week Day 6

half a day late but potato crashed. anyway

PRIDE DAY PRIDE DAY PRIDE DAY

@projectdarkstache

---

Dark took a breath, then tipped his head to the side, letting Bim paint a flag on his face. It was the City’s Pride celebration, and even were he not the mayor, he’d be going.

“Thank you, Bim,” he said, once the younger demon was finished.

Bim was decked out in a suit that was primed in the colors of the Bi flag, and hadn’t yet covered himself in glitter. “No problem, boss. I’ll catch you there, yeah?” Bim replied, flitting off to who knows where in order to finish getting ready himself.

Dark looked at himself in the mirror briefly, taking the sight of himself in jeans of all things. His shirt was still nice, but it was partially unbuttoned and he had his sleeves rolled up. He looked like Wil, in a hilarious way.

Teleporting himself to the parade grounds, Dark appeared where he was supposed to be. He was meeting some of his staff there, to go over anything before the celebrations started up proper. Everyone was dressed down, more comfortable than what they’d normally be wearing at work.

Dark kept the meeting short, and everyone scurried to their places.Dark found himself near the Jims, RJ and CJ fully set up and doing brief interviews already.

The twins were dressed in green and purple and grey, striped flags painted on their cheeks as well. Dark knew Bim had ambushed everyone who was going to be at the event, getting them ready in his way. Dark was likely to see him later with Yan - the two were going to be out a bit later.

“Mayor Jim! Mr. Pink Jim will be along in a bit!” RJ called, skidding to a stop in front of Dark. “He’s talking to some other Jims who were being… rude to some of the other brightly colored Jims!”

CJ made a face and shifted his camera.

Oh. That was fine. “As long as he’s here to host and not covered in blood, that’s fine, Jim,” Dark replied.

That’s when CJ nodded at someone behind Dark and Dark felt a pair of arms encircle his waist. His yelp of surprise turned mostly into laughter as he was picked up and spun a little bit.

“Hello, Mr. Mayor, are you ready for your interview?” Wil asked teasingly.

“I’d be much readier, Mr. Warfstache, if you’d put me down,” Dark said. He was smiling anyway. Wil was all done up in a fancy suit in Pan flag colors, and had a Bim-painted flag on his cheek. Dark was gently placed on his feet again, and he couldn’t even be annoyed that the Jims had gotten several incriminating photos of him smiling.

Couldn’t be helped.

There was, actually, going to be an interview, but Wil wasn’t going to be the one conducting it. RJ had some relatively basic questions to ask Dark, and Dark would be off to wherever he was going to be in the parade while Wil provided commentary from the reporter’s box. They’d meet up afterwards once Dark had collected their wayward children and minions that had come to join them and weren’t planning on staying out late.

Dark was content. Nothing was going to happen, the kids would be fine. It wasn’t the twenties anymore.

They could have pride in who they were.

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Darkstache Day One: Winter

Every November, Dark takes a week off. This year, Wilford gets to go with him. Both are reminded that even love can be cold if it’s meaningful.

Word Count: 966

--

When November rolled in, Dark would take a week off and travel out of town. No one knew where he went, until the year he asked Wilford to accompany him. While Wilford had expected a trip to Florida (don’t cold creatures migrate south for the winter?), a cabin near the Rockies was on the bottom of his list of his predictions.

The cabin was part of a campsite, but far enough away to give a sense of isolation from the families and college students in the other cabins. It was postcard perfect, including the snow lazily drifting down. Wilford hesitated by the door, using the moment to take the sight in. It was beautiful, unlike anything he had ever seen before.

“Will?” A voice stirred him from his thoughts, but the touch made Wilford yelp in surprise. Dark, equally startled, immediately pulled his hand back with a look of regret. A quick apology was given, and Wilford was left alone.

Dark was cold to the touch. That wasn't new. However, Dark's hand was ice. As long as the pair had been together (admittedly, not that long), Dark was never that cold. Was it the result of being somewhere colder than usual? Wilford was used to having that cold hand in his, and had become fond of cuddling his favourite ice cube. The cold wasn’t an issue, yet why did the surprise upset Dark? He didn’t have a chance to ask when the entity made a comment about Wilford losing his nose if he closed the door.

As the pair unpacked and a tour was given, Wilford noticed that Dark kept his hands behind his back, much like how they were before they became a couple. Professional, curt, polite… hiding the truth. Wilford tried to reach out, an attempt to show that it was okay, but Dark moved aside. Guilt began prodding at Wilford like someone was trying to put as many cocktail sticks into his arms as physically possible. He wanted to apologise, but he could tell talking about it was the last Dark wanted to do.

Trust him to accidentally spike Dark's paradoxical view on touch - being both touch-starved and aversive of it. He'd need to remedy this before the week was ruined, and fast.

-

After spending the night on the couch - no point making matters worse - Wilford had a brainwave as he looked out the window. It was snowing! They could go outside! If he needed to remind Dark about how the cold touches didn’t bother him, they needed to be outside. It took half the morning to pester Dark into going for a walk, but it was absolutely worth it the moment the front door closed.

First step of the plan - Wilford forgot his coat and winter accessories. As an entity so used to the cold, it wouldn't cross Dark's mind that this was a mistake.

Second step of the plan - make a snowman. This was a two-pronged tactic. Not only would it let the pair reconcile after their blunder the previous day, but it let Wilford dig his bare hands into the cold snow over and over again without drawing suspicion.

Throwing an odd glance Dark's way, Wilford could see the small smile threatening to spread. Those violet eyes had a slight glimmer to them. Even if he wouldn't break into a giddy mood, Wilford was confident the other was having a good time.

“I'm so used to staring out at the snow that I forgot what it was like to be out in it for a while,” mused the entity as Wilford put the final touches to Twigface the Snowman. “There's a sense of tranquility I find here, like I can slip back into a simpler routine.” Even last night, Dark had chopped some firewood. He wouldn't have the ability to chop a tree without being riddled in pain - nor would the campsite owners allow that - so it was a suitable alternative. “Mayhaps it's that familiarity with death that draws me. Everything is dead, barren, bleak…”

“Refreshin’, white…” finished Wilford with a grin. “Y’know, I'm pretty sure it was Host that told me that things aren't dead in winter. They're asleep. Th’ trees can lose their leaves so they can get new ones fer th’ spring. Animals go ta sleep an’ keep cozy. As fer you?” Wilford climbed onto his feet with a chuckle. “Yer not death. Yer Dark. Sure, yer not as bubbly as someone like Mark, but wouldn't life be borin’ if we were all th’ same? Ya keep me from floatin’ away, an’ I make ya smile. Then my hands always…”

“Warm - WILL!” Wilford, taking the distraction as opportunity, put both his ice-cold hands on Dark's cheeks. Then, to the reporter’s surprise, Dark began to laugh, and covered the hands with his own. “You're like ice.”

“As are you. I'll stay out here all day if I get ta show ya how much I've missed holding yer hand since we got here.” That made Dark wise up to Wilford’s plan. While guilt lingered, he was disappointed in himself for not realising it sooner. He had let old worries get the better of him. That wasn’t fair on Wilford.

“Alright... If I bring you back inside so you can have a shower and warm up, I'll let you hold my hand. Deal?”

“An’ cuddle ya in th’ fluffy blanket I brought?”

“And cuddle in the blanket, yes. It wouldn't be a break if I didn't take time to relax, would it? But, dear… Your cheeks are turning purple.”

That was more than enough for Wilford, who was quickly pulling Dark back toward the cabin. All he could feel was cold, but nothing was more comforting than the cold hands in his.

[doctordiscord123]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

June 21st’s prompt for Darkstache week is Proud, which I’m going to take as Gay Pride, so I can post the wedding for Darkstache and actually do something for this! @projectdarkstache

[fleecal]

June 19 (Wednesday): Dark’s birthday

I’m really proud of this one.

If you asked Dark, they did not have a birthday. The Doom twins had a birthday, June 19, 1896, and Dark came into existence on October 13, 1922. But they did not consider either of those dates their birthday. That isn’t to say no one else did.

Which is why Wilford was busily hanging decorations in his studio while Dark was working. Birthday or not, Will loved Dark more than anything and he wanted to celebrate his steady. For this reason, Wilford was filling his studio with streamers, balloons and black lights. Dark loves black lights. Chef Iplier was in the kitchen making a chocolate cake, Google was making sure Dark stayed in their office until it was time, Bing was putting together music Dark would like and Bim and the Jims were helping everyone pick out presents for the Darkness. Will, of course, already had his present, ready and waiting. He was so excited to give it to Dark. But first, decorations.

-

A few hours later, everything was ready. Everyone was waiting. Will texted Google that it was time to bring Dark over then signalled he everyone to get down as he turned off the lights. They soon heard the door open and Dark call “Will? Google said you needed to show me something?” Suddenly the blacklights turned on and everyone jumped up.

“Suprise!!”

Dark laughed softly. “Wilford. What is all this?” Wilford just smiled, slinging his arm around Dark’s waist and holding a small box in front of him. His moustache glowed brightly in the lighting.

“Well, I know you don’t consider any day your birthday, but I wanted to celebrate your life and the years we’ve spent together. So, happy life, Dominique. Open this in your office.” Dark took the box and nodded.

-

The party was fun. They danced, they laughed, Will shoved cake into Dark’s face with a giggle. It was a nice time. Dark also got some nice presents. A new watch, some expensive ties, a fun whiskey decanter and some whiskey, a hand-made throw blanket and cologne. Now, Dark was sat at their desk with Will’s gift. What had their boyfriend gotten them, Dark wondered. They opened the box to find a simple wooden box and what appeared to be a hundred puzzle pieces. The wooden box was heavy and mad of some kind of light coloured wood, with the words Do not open until you finish the puzzle. engraved on the top in Will’s handwriting. Dark sighed out a chuckle and got to work on the puzzle. Dark soon discovered the puzzle appeared to be pale pink words on a black background, with red, blue and hot pink hearts scattered around.

After about an hour, Dark had completed the puzzle. In Wilford’s handwriting, it said

I have loved you for almost 50 years, if not longer. I want the spend the rest of my years with you.

Dominique Gabriel Liy, will you marry me?

Dark was so overcome with emotion, they could barely text Wilford “Come”, but Will still showed up in the office seconds later. He hugged Dark tightly and rubbed their back.

“I didn’t expect you to cry, love,” Will said softly. Dark just nodded.

“Yes. Yes. I will marry you, Wilford. I love you so much and I want to be your spouse.” Will smiles and kisses Dark's head. His eyes drifted over to the wooden box.

“Oh! You finished the puzzle, but you didn’t open the box yet.”

“I’ve been a bit overcome to do so, Will.”

“Well, let’s open it together!” And so, with one arm around Dark, Will undid the latch and the two betrothed pushed open the lid. Inside was an expensive looking champagne bottle, two personalized champagne flutes and a diamond ring. Will gingerly picked up the ring. "I love you so much, Dark." He said as he gently took Dark's left hand and slid the ring onto their finger.

"I love you too, Will." And they proved it by kissing Wilford.

Best. Birthday. Ever.