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Flowers | Wilford Warfstache

Request: None

Synopsis: Bim is a constant reminder of Wilford’s past, something that Dark does not take lightly.

Warnings: angst, flashbacks, loss of sanity, yelling, self-loathing, violence, and one (1) broken mirror

A/N: Based on a post by @alcordraws (just for the record, I did not intend for this to focus so much on Dark)

Originally posted by septicstacheedits

Originally posted by disc-of-riches

He looked just like him. The perfectly groomed hair. His kind brown eyes. The pristine suit. Wilford liked Bim, he really did, but he reminded him so much of Damien. He couldn’t recall much of that timeline but he definitely remembered his dear friend.

He had just returned from his daily walk around the grounds.

“Look, Will!” He said, his voice akin to an excited child. “I got new flowers!”

He smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s nice, Damien.”

Bim was looking to expand his garden. As he scanned the delicate plants a grin made it’s way onto his face. He had come across the perfect bubblegum pink flowers. The exact color of Wilford’s mustache.

Bim couldn’t help but smile as he drove back to Ego Inc. Wilford would love these.

He found the pastel colored man in the studio, frantically going over his script. He bounced up and down excitedly on his toes, tapping Wilford’s shoulder to catch his attention.

“Look, Wil! I got new flowers!” He smiled brightly.

“That’s nice, Damien.” Wilford said absentmindedly before going back to his script. Then his words finally registered. He froze.

Bim furrowed his brows. “Who’s Damien?”

“I-I-he’s-“ He began to stutter horribly. “He’s no one, Bim.”

Rather abruptly, Wilford turned and walked away, muttering to himself and occasionally laughing. That was odd, even for Wilford.

A rather confused Bim left to go plant his flowers. That’s when he began to think. Wilford isn’t exactly human, is he? He could have come across someone named Damien in another timeline. There’s only one person that Bim knows that has been with Wilford since the beginning. Dark.

Bim didn’t enjoy talking to Dark. Honestly, the entity scared him. Curiosity was a dangerous thing, indeed.

He knocked on his office door.

“Come in.” Said the intimidating voice on the other side.

Dark was standing by the window when he entered. He didn’t look at him.

“Yes, Trimmer?”

“Well, I-I was talking to Wilford and he… well, actually-“

“Get to the point.”

“Right. Um, who exactly is Damien?”

Dark tensed. “What?”

Bim shrunk back slightly. “Uh…who’s Damien?”

The command was quiet but authoritative. “Get out.”

When he didn’t move fast enough Dark turned, his lips turned up into a snarl, the ringing in the room growing louder as his red and blue aura separated further. “Get out of my office! Go!”

Bim obliged and slammed the door behind him, making a silent agreement with himself to never bring up the subject again.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Dark was gripping a familiar cane so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He caught a glimpse of himself in the ornate mirror that hung on the other side of the room. He made his way closer to the mirror, staring at his reflection in disgust.

This wasn’t his body. No, this was Y/N’s. Y/N, who he left trapped in the mirror just like this one. He cracked his neck, reminiscent of when it broke. Wilford may not remember that timeline completely, but he does. He remembers every detail in repulsive clarity. Oh, how he wished none of them had accepted those invitations in the first place.

Mark would pay for what he did. He would pay for what he did to him, to Y/N, to Celine, and especially to Wilford.

As his rage grew more and more, he felt himself raise the cane. Before the action could register in his mind, he swung and shattered the the mirror.

The superstitious would berate him for it, yes, but seven years of bad luck is child’s play compared to the nightmare he was already living.

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