Markiplier Ego Oneshots

A Dance to Remember, A Friend to Forget- Darkstache

Author's note: This one is also angsty I'm afraid. I am sorry if you don't like reading that kind of stuff, as it can get pretty dark (pun not intended). Lots of references to WKM and Darkstache if you squint. No one is going to die like in the previous chapter, I've made sure of it. But it may still be... upsetting to some readers.

This story will probably have multiple parts as this idea was a confusing high-maintenance affair that I couldn't stop and this couldn't really be considered a oneshot. As I continue writing in this book and the stories get longer, I wonder...

If you prefer my shorter, more humourous fics or my longer, more angsty fics please comment and/or vote. I want to know my audience better and what you all would rather read. Thanks, and sorry for the long author's note. And for apologizing so much. And speaking so formally, why am I doing that, is Dark rubbing off of me?

Cover picture by darkmagic-sweetheart on Tumblr.

Warnings: insanity, suicide, guns, mentions of death, angst, one-sided pining if you look hard enough.

To William, dancing was a passion. He hummed along to a tune from long ago as he waltzed, eyes closed in blissful peace as he glided across the floor. He held his arms outwards in front of him, holding his delicate partner made of air. He smiled. Everything was just right.

He imagined dancing with a beautiful woman. Slender, soft hands held steadily onto his own large rough ones. Her dark eyes shined, complementing the deep black color of her hair. Sure, her dancing skills were sub-par, sometimes stepping on the tips of his shoes, but her wide carefree smile made up for it. She tilted her head back in light-hearted laughter as she and William spun faster across the floor.

William chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. How realistic his invisible dance partner felt, how genuine. He almost felt a feeling of déjà vu, still spinning gracefully with his arms outstretched. William swore he saw her before; at a bar perhaps? No, that can't be, William thought. I know her too well. He imagined, no, remembered her. Her playful smile that aroused mystery and intrigue, how her soft hand felt when he held it, smooth and cool under his lips as he gently kissed its back, the way she listened eagerly to his past adventures even after the hundredth time he told them. He knew her. But who was she?

Celine.

The name came to him in a flash. He stood still and silent in the middle of the empty room. Questions flooded into his head as he struggled to remember. Who is she? Where is she? What happened to her? William looked around the room in a panic, jerking wildly one direction to the next. His breathing became uneven and shallow, the relentless beating of his heart quickened, a loud throb pumping in his ears. He whispered her name repeatedly, almost in a low chant. He paced the room, quick and halting, clutching his head to try and remember something, anything that would clear the fog of confusion in his mind.

Celine.

A name now firmly drilled into his skull, a name like a once dormant animal now awake and hungry, rummaging through his broken mind. A single word that was a trigger, exploding a stronghold of once forgotten memories, overlapping one another in rapid fire. How was it possible for him to forget something, someone so important? How could he simply forget her, his friend, his companion, his former lover?

Celine.

A name that is an elegant question, a mystery in itself. A name on the tip of his tongue, between being said and not.  Something missing, something lost, something that needed to be found before it was too late...

"Celine?" William hesitantly said aloud, the name rolling off his tongue naturally, a name he felt he had said countless times before, but felt somewhat foreign from lack of use.