Jake's Oneshots.

Small things.

HOLY SHIT I FINALLY AM BACK- I might have forgotten about this after a while, but im back for a little while. Hope you enjoy this good ol' dose of Darkiplier angst.


(TW: Mention of WKM, A N G S T)

If you'd like, requests are open in the comments! :)

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It was loud- that's all he could recall. A stormy night, wind whistling around him, the rocks shifting at his feet, a umbrella held at his side. He didn't even realize he was shaking at first, the panic setting in. He didn't realize where he was until he...wasn't. The area was blocked by large fences with vines growing on it with leaves setting in next to the gate. When he tried going back, he couldn't. His legs planted in place, he couldn't move. He'd never been this scared before, his brain trying to figure out why and how he was there- he didn't even know if he was alive. It scared him. He wasn't suppose to be scared, terrified, hands shaking, this feeling wasn't suppose to be a thing. Immortal being, whatever you would refer to him as...... and he was cowering before a gate.


".....Are you aware the door is open, yes?" A voice spoke to him softly, a look of pity in their eyes as they looked at the man. Right now, he looked normal. A sorrow filled guy who doesn't know what to do with his life. The words brought him out of his thoughts as he looked over at the taller. Dark blinked for a minute, before making a sour look at the ground, and then looking back at the person. "Oh. Uh. Yeah, I know. Just....taking my time. Thank you for the concern, though." Dark sounded normal- which was a rare thing, being that he usually spoke with a loud and ominous whisper behind his words. This time, he could practically sound like Mark if you didn't know the difference in outfits. "Then.....why are you trying to walk away?" 


He didn't know how to respond to that, his feet trying to direct him to the nearest place- anything- but there wasn't anything. This place didn't have anything. Sidewalks that go on for forever, trees that covered the sun from the paths. He didn't care much about these small things, but that wasn't shocking. The small things didn't matter in the grand scheme of things in his mind. he didn't know this person, he never even met them, but he stayed and listened- replied. It didn't make sense exactly. It was such a small thing, yet he cared about it. He still stood in front of the gate, not even looking at the person next to him. he didn't know them, yet he didn't push them away.


"....Im......I....I don't know." The ego murmered, shaking his head lightly before smiling lightly at the other to cause at least a little bit of peace of mind for this person. He didn't want company, he didn't want to even be there and having someone be with him made it worse. A question still loomed in his brain, Why was he hesitating? Why was his hand on the old rusty handle if he wanted to leave? He turned the knob, the gate screeching as he walked in. He looked back, but they where already gone. A voice in the wind. He let out breath he didn't even know he was holding and started walking around. . . .  He didn't even know where he was until he saw the stone pillars poking out of the ground, vases left near them, toys at some. A grave yard. 



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He had walked for a while, longer than he thought he would. Dark read the names of each of them, not knowing any. He didn't know why he was even trying to read them, they weren't important to him. He'd been in grave yards millions of times, walked through them with confident steps, not this. His shoulders sagged, his shirt wrinkled, hair messed up and visible bags under his eyes. He hadn't zoned out yet, but his vision blurred as he read the names out loud in a whisper. Alex. CP. Elenore. he didn't understand why he was, nor did he care anymore. He didn't feel like he wanted to continue, it wasn't his thing. Can't he just go back to the vo- He caught the words mayor on one. And his feet stopped. And then the world slowed. It became even more blurry. He almost fell. No- No he fell. His knees gave out soon after that. No- No this- no he left- this wasn't this place- he didn't understand- He didn't ask for this- No. No. He continued reading, but not saying talking anymore. 'Damien - beloved brother of Celine, trusted mayor and friend.' It read the death was unknown, and the flowers in the vase had died, falling to the bottom of the small pot. 


Dark hadn't realized he had started crying, sobs leaving his mouth every once and a while. Why was he crying? When did he start crying? When did he get there? Thoughts swarmed his head. He tried to stop it, he really did. He didn't want to act so dramatic about such a small thing. A small thing in the big universe of possibilities. But he was sobbing on the ground in a ball in front of the grave. Celine's next to it, both unknown to the cause of them needing the graves. A broken man, a worried sister, both bracing each other, hoping and praying that it would be fine. That the DA would do it. He didn't want to know them. He didn't know them personally. Pictures of them layed in each room, stolen glances of diary's. Anything. He didn't want it. A broken sob left his mouth as his hands grabbed at his hair, anything- anything to tell him he was there. Not in the void. Not in the mirror- He was never there. He wasn't ever there. Violent blue and red neon lights flashed around him as he broke down.


Was he selfish for wanting to be alive? the thought creeped in through his brain. These where innocent people, Damien, Celine, hell maybe even William for how he is now, but all of them for him? He wanted to live. He actually enjoyed it- he wanted to be able to listen to music without a loud ringing over it. He finally enjoyed it. And then this. The world crumbled. The graveyard seemed so large in comparison to other things. He hated this feeling- overwhelmed. It was all to much. And no one was there. He was half glad that no one was there and half hoping that someone would walk by. Just to calm him. Just to give him a hug. Something. Anything. 

Throughout all of this......everything was the same. Trees kept swaying. Rain pelting him as the umbrella he carried layed behind him. The storm continuing on. He wasn't the only thing that mattered at that moment. A moment. A small thing in the ocean of possibility.