Random Darkiplier Shipping (ON HIATUS)

Dark x Host- Do I look like I care?

-Warning, sensitive topics-

I know I'm broken. I've known it forever. So why does HE have to keep reminding me?! Just shut up already, you blabbering blind idiot! Just shut up!!!!!

Ugh...My head has been hurting more and more every sense Host moved in with the other egos. It's just getting on my nerves now! I'm about ready to ask Wilford to kill me!

I guess instead of complaining like a child, I should go and actually ask- no. TELL him to stop.

I slowly slipped my suit jacket on and walked out of my office, going down the hall to Hosts room.

I didn't bother knocking, it's MY house, I don't need permission. Of course Host was bent over a table, like normal, shouting into a microphone.

-3rd person/ Hosts POV-
Dark just stood in the door way, listening to the Hosts words. He walked over to the table Host was currently leaning against and shoved him away from it.

"Dark? What are you doing?" The blind narrator asked, confused by Dark's action.

"Shut up! I have a headache and you won't stop talking! This is a problem and it's getting on my NERVES!" Dark screamed. Not unaware of his temper issues, Dark knew Host would snap.

And that's exactly what he did.

"DO I LOOK LIKE I CARE ABOUT YOUR STUPID HEADACHES?!!?!? WHY THE HELL SHOULD I EVEN BOTHER TO CARE ABOUT YOU AT ALL!?!" The host screeched, not knowing the impact it would have on the younger, before going back to his work.

Dark started crying silently, not knowing how to cope with the words.

"Oh? So you can give a hit but you CAN'T TAKE one?!?! God, you're such a crybaby..." Host snarled, not even turning his head to the other.

And with that, Dark ran out of the room. That's when Host realized what Dark had said, and went to find Dark.

-Dark's point of view-
Worthless.
Imperfect.
Waste of time.
Strange.
Demon.
Monster.

I made another cut on my arm for each word. Each returning thought. I watched the ink black liquid run down my arm and drip on the floor. I deserve this...I deserve the pain...

My....HABITS.... aren't very normal...I stopped for about three months.... Wilford thought I got better. I stopped taking the pills Dr. Iplier gave me.

Ha, guess I'm a disappointment too, now.

I put down the knife and pulled down my suit's sleeve just before I heard the door open.

"Dark? Are you o-"

"What do you want?" I snapped, why the hell is he here? After all he said....

"Dark... I'm... I'm sorry..."

"You think SORRY can fix th-"
I suddenly felt a sharp pain. Host had grabbed me by the arms.

Oh no....

"Dark."

"......."

"Dark. Why the HELL are your sleeves wet?"

"I...I don't..."

Host suddenly pushes my sleeve up, showing the cuts all over my arms...And the scars from the older ones.

"Dark...? What....Why are..." He ran a hand over one of the cuts, sending a sharp pain through my arm again.

"Wait here."

"Host."
He turned his head towards me again.

"Please... Don't tell anyone. I promised them I'd stop..."

The host nodded, and walked away, leaving me with my scars.

Why does he care so much about me? He knows I'm just a pointless waste of his time....

Then he walked back in.

"You shouldn't think that about yourself."

Curse you and your stupid narrating...

I noticed he had a roll of bandages in his left hand, and proxide in his right.

He sat next to me on the bed, and put the medicine over my cuts. I let out a small hiss of pain, and he lifted his head towards me, seemingly concerned.

"Please...let me do what I can to help you." He mumbled sadly.

I nodded, and he wrapped the bandages around my arm.

"Do you have any other cuts?"

I shook my head, and he wrapped his arms around me. I flinched.

I broke.

-3rd person-

Dark started crying in the Hosts arms, not wanting to be as strong as he usually was. Eventually Dark fell asleep, and the second he did, the Host kissed Dark's forehead, and mumbled something.

"I will always be here for you."

-----------
Now I'm sad.