#da!reader

The idea of the DA resembling a fractured mirror is pretty much exactly spot on. Whereas Dark seems to flicker and create duplicates, their ‘glitching’ is more akin to their body fragmenting and fracturing. Sometimes cracks spread across their form, sometimes they fragment like broken mirror and the parts stop lining up correctly. They create doubles of themselves like Dark too, but there’s can linger.

It happened a lot more when they first came back, so full of anger and rage that they seemed to constantly be in pain and their form was always stuttering and cracking, fragmenting and threatening to shatter.

It’s no real surprise that after years being trapped in the mirror and becoming an entity that their new-found abilities would reflect their former imprisonment. The DA is now capable of traveling through mirrors. Each mirror is connected, allowing them to pass through one and come out in any other mirror as long as they can find it in the connected other realm. 

It’s similar to the Void that Dark travels through but not the same, they call it the Fracture and yes, they can bring other people in there with them. 

And accidentally leave them in there but that was one time and Derek was fine in the end!

They’re also capable of creating doubles of themselves, these are called Reflections and if attacked they shatter and turning into bits of broken glass (think Bloody Mary from the Wolf Among Us Tell Tale game). It’s incredibly straining though and often leaves the DA in a lot of pain after.

I don’t think the DA was ever struggled to look like themselves. They definitely look different now, more washed out and monotone though not as bad as Dark and they don’t make things monochrome like he does. It did take awhile for their form to settle into its new life though. 

Dark was a big help once they settled some of the animosity between them. A lot of their pain was caused by lingering anger, resentment, it made their form unstable. 

They start resting in Dark’s office, enjoying the calm in there. It’s awkward to begin with but soon they start talking, hesitantly sharing old memories. 

Surprisingly to them, Dark does have some old photographs from before. It hurts to look upon their old faces but at the same time it helps. It does help them settle more seeing themselves as they once were.

Hearing the old stories helps too, Dark fondly recalls memories of old university parties. He speaks softly to them, his tone gentle and affectionate but only ever in the privacy of his office. 

Wilford on the other hand is much louder and grander in his interactions with them. 

He tries to tell them about himself and the crazy shenanigans he used to get up to with Celine but memories don’t come to him as easily. 

“My head’s not what it used to be,” He always remarks, “bit foggy on the details.” But it’s okay, the DA listens anyway. 

They mostly focus on creating new memories. It’s Wilford who gives them the grand tour of the manor when they first come back and he’s the one often gladly introducing them to the egos. 

They spend a lot of time with Wilford on the days where they can handle a lot of stimulus and aren’t overwhelmed. He’s fun, dragging them into shenanigans. 

He’s still surprisingly good at stirring them away from anything too stressful though, aware that too much can cause the DA a lot of pain. 

Nobody can figure out how the DA came back though. It should be impossible. Dark thinks it was Mark, another new game for him to play. 

And yet, Mark hasn’t made any visit to the manor to boast nor has he hinted to it in his videos. Everything has been strangely normal. 

 (Your Name) stayed quiet for a few minutes, they didn't look up, they didn't make a sound. They just wrapped their arms around their stomach. Dark closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He set his hand on the glass once more, (Your Name) nodded and raised her head. 

 "I... I think it was yours-but I never was sure." 

 "Because of your last lover, the one that left you before you came to me" He added, watching them nod and look away, "How long had you known?" 

 "A few months... I had missed my cycle, and I didn't want to worry you with it-you had so much on your plate, and I didn't want to make it worse" They rushed out, now feeling more nervous than angry. (Your Name) had promised themself that after that night, after they had all gone home, they would tell Damien.

 "Darling-I need to ask you something, very important, and you have to look me in the eyes" Dark said, standing up straighter. (Your Name) nodded.

 "Go right ahead" 

 "My little Monster, I left you because I believed that you were gone-that you had passed to the other side, but now that I know you are here, I do not want to let you go-not again, so I'm asking you, If you'll allow me, to move the mirror, your prison, into my home, so I can get you your own body"

 "I.." (Your Name) stopped, this was the man they man they were supposed to hate, but with what hes said, and the way hes said it.. (Your Name) in her foggy mind of desperate loneliness-accepted, "I'll allow you, Dark."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Wilford? A little assistance, if you pl-Ah, Google, actually you would be more trustworthy for this task-help me move this mirror out of the house please" Dark motioned to the now-empty mirror. Dark had instructed (Your Name) to hide themself away, hiding just out of sight for the both of them. 

(Your Name) sat quietly, feeling the mirror being picked up and moved. So thats what the sober friends name was-Google. What an odd name.

 "Dark- I apologize for this, but why are we moving an antique into your office? we would be much better off if we were to sell in" Google said, setting the mirror down, reflective side out, by the car. 

 "Don't you DARE sell me" (Your Name) called out, poking their head into view. Google jumped and looked around, and finally he looked at (Your Name), who now had a pissed expression, "You sell me, and I shall make sure you suffer, you hear me?" 

 "Oh, What are you going to do? touch me? I believe that you're stuck in a mirror"

 "I swear to god as soon as I get outta here"

 "Both of you calm down! We are taking ms (Your Name) to my office for reasons you are not permitted to know. No more questions, Google, no more comments either. As for you, (Your Name), please do try on not making enemys with my allys." Dark broke the argument as quickly as it started. (Your Name) slinked back into her mirror, sulking and mumbling insults, while Google sat silently, angry, in the passengers sea of the car, already prepared to leave.

(Your Name) felt a pang of uneasyness as Dark started the car, and pulled away from the house, her prison leaving the empty corridor, the empty house. She didn't stop feeling empty, a little overwelmed if anything, but still felt empty.

 Wilford sat in the back next to her, holding onto the frame making sure the mirror doesn't move around to much. It felt as if they were free of one prison, but to be returned to another. They felt trapped still. Trapped in their mind, trapped in the mirror, trapped in that black machine, which Wil had explained was a 'Car', and 'SUV' to be specific. 

The library in the manor was as elusive as the hedge maze outside. It tended to shift and move, you could get lost if you weren't careful - and the former DA had before. Yet despite this, the place had a very calming presence. It felt older than even the house itself, brimming with knowledge and stories. Stepping into the library was like walking into the arms of an old friend, comforting and familiar.

(and perhaps just a slight bit supernatural)

It was also one of the few rooms in the manor that was always calm and quiet so it was no real surprise that it was where they often found Dark. If he wasn't in his office, hunched over his desk and working with a frown on his lips, he would be in the library. They would find him sitting in the plush velvet chair by the chair, a book in hand. They liked to join him in there. It was a good way to rebuild their relationship. Sometimes - if he was in a good mood - they could even convince him to read to them.

Sometimes they would find his books on the shelves, filled with different notes and annotations. It was only really Dark who used the library and he tended to leave the books in pristine condition but there were some he favoured; some he revisited over and over. Those books he tended to encourage the library to keep hidden but Dark had a soft spot for them, so it was no surprise when they found it.

The book was clearly old, the front cover worn and the pages yellowed. Corners curled from being dog-eared repeatedly, the spine creased down the middle. It was a well-loved book that had seen much use but that wasn't the most interesting part about it. Intrigued, the former DA had carried it over to the nearest chair (and tried not to think about how this nook hadn't been there before) to settle in and read. Opening the book revealed even more signs of its age and history. Every page was filled with notes, hastily written in the empty spaces. Certain lines were highlighted or circled. As they flipped through the pages they stopped reading the actual book and just began reading all the annotations.

They recognised the handwriting, of course, years of proofreading Damien's coursework meant they were intimately familiar with it. Dark's handwriting was still the same even after he had changed. They could understand why he had clearly been drawn to this book. It held a sad story inside, the story of a man who found immortality and over the years realised that it wasn't as great as people thought. Immortality came with the curse that after so long you stop living. You're Alive, existing sure but... you're not living anymore nor are you really surviving. You're just there.

There was the gentle sound of footsteps on carpet; they looked up from the book to find Dark. He was dressed in his usual smart attire, a three-piece suit, and his aura flickered around him. He looked surprised for only a second before his expression evened out and he said their name. "Hello, Dark," They greeted with a smile, holding up the book, "I was just reading."

"I can see that," Dark responded, calm and cool as always, and began to make his way over to them. To his credit, he didn't outwardly look uncomfortable but they felt his aura reach out to them when he lowered himself into the seat beside them. Static brushed at their mind and caressed the arm closest to him, encouraging the hairs to stand up. It wasn't a new feeling so they simply ignored it. 

"I can see why it's your favourite," They mused, gaze falling back to the book.

"What makes you think it's my favourite?" Dark asked slowly. There was no sense of fight in his tone. Instead, he just sounded genuinely curious.

They ran their fingers down the page, lips settling into a small smile. "I recognise your handwriting," was the first thing they said, "and the story of a man who gains immortality and becomes numb to life as a result? That is something you would read." They closed the book then, reaching over to pass it to him. Dark stared at it for a moment before he reached forward to take it from them, the colour instantly draining from the book as he came into contact with it. "Would you read it to me?" They asked, resting their cheek on their hand.

The manor was so fucking noisy all the time. With so many egos living together, that was to be expected. Especially with the more eccentric ones like William -- Wilford, they had to remind themselves he was called now -- Bim, the Jims and even Yancy. Though Yancy wasn't as annoying as the others, nor was he as... in your face. He did have a habit of putting together musicals and annoying Illinois which made it very hard to relax sometimes. Today was one of those days. The former DA was still trying to settle into the manor, combing over some of Mark's videos Dark had given them to look into. Illinois and Yancy were bickering about something they didn't care about and it was gradually escalating until the two were full-blown shouting. They dragged their eyes up from their laptop, looked between the two.

And finally decided to move elsewhere.

Gathering up their laptop and notepad, they turned to stalk out of the room and find somewhere quieter to work where they hoped the irritation burning inside them would settle. They hadn't gotten but two halls away from the sitting room they had been in before they turned a corner and crashed right into someone. Stumbling back, they flailed to ensure they didn't drop their laptop and in trying to save the tech, their notebook was launched off into the fucking void. Never to be seen again, forever lost under the furniture. They stared after it mournfully but then sighed. They'd just have to use a WordPad document or something.

"I-I'm so s-sorry!" A voice squeaked in front of them. They turned their gaze away from where their notepad had gone careening off, then down to find that while they had managed to stay on their feet, the person they had crashed into had not been so fortunate. Another one of Mark's egos he'd created and dumped, though not one they had met yet. He seemed smaller than the others, wearing a pair of skewed glasses and a black button-down that had floral patterns all over it. The shirt was tucked into a pair of black slacks. In his hands, he clutched a yellow cloth which he was twisting and fiddling with nervously. "This is a-all my f-fault, oh... o-oh n-no. I'm s-so... S-orry," He stammered, nervously looking around as if waiting for some big monster to come out and tear him to shreds.

They blinked and then suddenly felt any remaining anger at being ran into dissipate. "Hey, look it's fine," They began carefully, holding their laptop against their chest with one arm and reaching out with the other in an offer to help him up. "What's your name?" They asked slowly, watching as the timid man seemed to fiddle with his cloth more as he stared at their hand then finally jolted - as if remembering he was on the floor - and took it. His hands were clammy but they didn't care as they tugged him back up to his feet.

"U-uh, E-Eric. Derekson. E-eric Derekson," He responded, softly, back to fiddling with that cloth. "Wh-what's uh... What's y-yours?" He asked a few seconds later. They told him their name and watched as he carefully repeated it, then they did something for probably the first time since they'd crawled out of that mirror. They smiled. It was small, reassuring, and paired with a gentle pat on Eric's shoulder that left him staring at them as they brushed past.

"It was nice to meet you, Eric. I have to get back to work but I'll see you around," They told him with their best attempt at a friendly smile, figuring the nervous man needed it. His cheeks went red and he frantically nodded his head.

"Y-yeah! S-see you, uh, see y-you a-around." They continued on their way then, in search of that quiet corner to work in.

- - - -

Funnily enough, it was that same quiet corner where they next met Eric and their dynamic changed. Following their first meeting, they tried their best to smile and nod at him whenever they saw him, Eric was probably the least irritating of the mansion's residence - next to Host. He usually was following around another man named Derek, who they had quickly learnt was Eric's father. He would shyly wave whenever he saw them but other than that, they hadn't interacted since that first encounter.

It was... a bad pain day. They'd crawled out of their room just fine but as the day progressed the pain that was always there just got worse and worse until finally, they'd snuck away to go find their corner. It was a dim room nobody else seemed to use; looked like another sitting room but it was smaller and none of the others ever came in here. They'd found it after running into Eric and now it was where they always dragged themselves when they wanted to be away from the others. They slumped down onto the carpeted floor, pulling their knees up to their chest and shuddering as the pain flared again. Their form fragmented, creating doubles who writhed and silently screamed before jumping back together. They were so focused on the pain that they hadn't noticed the nervous man who had followed them, worried.

Not until there was a timid call of their name. They jolted, tilted their head up to look and quickly found Eric stood awkwardly in the doorway. He was still holding that yellow handkerchief which he twisted around his fingers. "A-are you... o-okay?" He asked, shifting from foot to foot as he hovered nervously over the threshold.

They grit their teeth against another jolt of pain that made their form crack. "No," They pushed out, no point in lying now. Eric could clearly see they weren't okay. Though even just the confirmation seemed to make him panic more.

"O-oh, oh, sh-should I, uh, should I-I go get s-someone? Uh! U-uh! Dr I-Iplier? D-Dark?" Even just hearing his name was enough to make them recoil and sneer, which caused Eric to jolt. "N-not Dark! G-got it, r-right, d-definitely not D-Dark!" He rushed out, tripping over his words more.

They forced themselves to take a breath. "Eric, it's fine. I don't want you to get anyone," They told him slowly, "I'm fine. This is... normal." They flinched, tensed up and shuddered as their form cracked, shifting until it was like they were being viewed through a broken mirror. The pieces not lining up properly. That seemed to be what encouraged Eric to turn and scurry out of the room, saying something that they couldn't catch because it was too rushed and jumbled. They watched him go, then sighed deeply. They figured he must have just been spooked and left it at that.

It made his return five minutes later all the more surprising. Eric walked in, clutching a mug with both hands that he was watching carefully to assure he didn't spill a drop. He slowly made his way over to them. "I-I got you tea!" He exclaimed, sounding so damn determined and proud that they couldn't even bring themselves to be annoyed at the company that seemed to be settling with them. "M-mom a-always used to h-have tea when s-she was ill, I-I know it's... i-it's not th-the same b-but-"

 “Wil. Really, this is-” The sober one stopped short as he turned the corner, seeing the trapped (Your Name) for the first time, banging on the cracked mirror from the wrong side, screaming only to be hardly heard. He stopped and called for his friend.

“Wilford. We have a slight problem.” He sighed, fixing his glasses. ‘Wilford’ came swaggering up, a small pink mustache right above his lip and a constant stubble on his face. He wore rather bright clothing and looked remarkably similar to the sober man. And something just screamed at (Your Name) that they knew this man.

 “Whats wrong Goog-(Your Name)..?” ‘Wilford’ said, now turning his attention to the mirror instead of his friend. His face was one of shock and confusion as if he was trying to remember something. (Your Name) looked bewildered and pointed to themselves. Wilford took a minute to compose himself from his random twitches and shocked noises. He turned to his friend and whispered something feverishly to him. The sober friend nodded, and recently went away. ‘Wilford’ got closer to the mirror.

 “You’re (Your Name), the District Attorney. You were friends wit-”

 “Don’t you dare say his name” (Your Name) spat out, glaring at Wilford. Suddenly, something clicked in their minds, “You’re the Colonel, William I believe.”

 “Yes! Yes I am! You still hold a grudge against him?” Wilford asked, making (Your Name) growl slightly. Their throat hurt, this has been way too much talking, they hadn’t talked this much in a while.

 “Of course I still hold a grudge, you talk like its been a long time, its only been a year-hasn’t it..?” (Your Name) asked, expecting a nod, but when Wilford tugged at his suspenders nervously, their heart dropped, and their temper flared.

 “It's been many years.. Decades ..?” Wilford offered, making (Your Name)’s temper flare even more.

 “What do you mean, ‘Decades’? It couldn’t have been a decade-” They start coughing, Decades with no food or water sucks, especially if you don’t usually talk.

 “Oh no, jeez, sorry, why don’t we get you some-”

 “WILFORD WARFSTACHE”

 “Oh, shi-Dark!” Wilford whirled around, and hurried to the front of the house, leaving (Your Name).

 “Wait! Wil-don’t leave me!” They cried, watching their only hope of leaving this place. A lot of yelling was heard, one voice was obviously Williams, and the other seemed familiar, and would pause for a moment when Wil mentioned their name. Suddenly, loud footsteps came towards them.

 “Wil..? Is that you..?” Their voice was stronger now, the yelling the two produced provided more vibrations that (Your Name) could use.