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you can’t trust a single thing i say

Summary:

“Shut the fuck up!” Chosen’s other hand comes up like he was going to hit him again, but holds back at the last second. Dark doesn’t flinch — not even if Chosen would hold a knife to his throat — but he does smirk when he sees his resistance. “You’re losing your goddamn mind. You’re sick.”

“You act like you’re better,” Dark muses and Chosen yanks him closer in anger. They’re almost nose to nose, now. Dark was sure he could feel the fire burning inside of him. “You want to switch around and become the hero, the martyr, the protagonist of the fucking story just like your namesake, don’t you? You love feeling like you’re the good guy in all of this. You —“

“This is not my problem,” Chosen hisses coldly. His eyes shone, fire as well, but not with the same type of heat as Dark’s. “This is you. You’re the problem. You made a virus to delete the world just to what? Rule over it? For fun? What’s the point of deleting everything if —“

“You’re wrong.”

after coming back from defeating the virabot sent to alan’s pc, chosen goes to fuck dark instead of beating him up (CG do not follow him)

Notes:

HIIIIII I LITERALLY FEEL SICK RN OMFG IT IS 1:30 AM FOR ME AND IVE BEEN WRITING RHIS STRAIGHT FOR LIKE 2-3 HRS IDK UM YAH

iiii don’t really know what to say other than. enjoy i guess? lmao?

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

There was a fuzzy heat that encased Dark’s mind as he trudged into the makeshift shed he called his lab. Everything warped and melded together, hot and melted. Everything was red and ablaze, ignited, burned, burned, burned

 

His body was hot to the touch, and against the cool metal of the door handle it sizzled. Footsteps charred the stone of the floor and left black markings of his presence. Dark’s breathing was labored, heavy, and he fell upon the desk that held his computer blindly. He couldn’t think. He could barely see. And all he felt was that boiling heat, steam in his ears and the loud, loud thump of his own bloodied heart.

 

He sucked in a breath as he stared at the computer screen, pitch black. Like ashes. The hands that pressed against the wooden table shook and trembled. Everything was spinning. Flame surrounded him.

 

“I am The Dark Lord,” he whispers hoarsely. “I am in the Lab. I am safe. I do not need to follow — follow the — I am The Dark Lord and I do not need to destroy The — destroy — des — I am —“

 

Dark gulps down large amounts of air and tries to return the oxygen to his heart. The table and his feet and the floor were spinning, distorted, glitching out. He was sinking, he was sure of it. The ground was quicksand, pulling him down, rough waves tossing his head against the currents. He was moving, far away from himself, vision zooming —

 

I am The Dark Lord and I am safe and I am here and I am okay and I do not need to follow my code I am not my code I am not my code I am not my code I do not need to destroy —

 

His grip on the table tightens and he could almost tear a crack where he held it. Dark leveled in some more breaths and closed his eyes. He watches the black of his eyelids, shapes and colors painted against the skin. Red, purple, cyan. Spinning and moving. Dizzy. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face and drops off his jaw. Nausea pooled inside his stomach, too dizzy, too much spinning, he was moving and moving and —

 

“I am — The Dark Lord,” Dark choked out. His eyebrows were furrowed sharply. “I am The Dark Lord and I am s-safe. Safe. I am not going to — I will not destroy The Chosen One. I am not my code. I won’t — I will not — not destroy —“

 

The Chosen One opens the door, a gunshot sound so loud that Dark jumps. He’s snapped out of the haze so suddenly that he could do nothing but stare at Chosen. Chosen was back. Chosen was —

 

a toss to the floor that sent him gasping for air, punches that didn’t lack aggression, a blast that sends him to the sky —

 

He can do nothing. He can say nothing. Chosen marches up to him and Dark just feels the heat, the fire in his body that was burning him alive —

 

Chosen punches him sharply across the side of his face, sending his head snapping to the right. Dark stumbles and his back hits the wall, knocking the air out of his lungs. Chosen grabs him with one hand and the other rears back, readying yet another punch. Dark gets half of his mind back and raises his arms to block the hits, feeling it sting against him. Air blew wildly with the speed that Chosen punched him, and the way his shirt was lifted was raw against his skin.

 

With one last aggravated punch, Chosen spits out, “What the fuck did you think you were doing?” He doesn’t let go of his clothing, balling it up tight with white knuckles. “A virus? Permanent deletion? Do you even know what that means?” He shakes Dark for emphasis and the fire roars.

 

“Don’t be such a hypocrite,” Dark manages out, blazing hot. His hand comes up to grasp at Chosen’s wrist, boiling hot and Chosen winces slightly as the heat transferred. “You would’ve loved it. You were just a fucking coward —“

 

“Shut the fuck up!” Chosen’s other hand comes up like he was going to hit him again, but holds back at the last second. Dark doesn’t flinch — not even if Chosen would hold a knife to his throat — but he does smirk when he sees his resistance. “You’re losing your goddamn mind. You’re sick.”

 

“You act like you’re better,” Dark muses and Chosen yanks him closer in anger. They’re almost nose to nose, now. Dark was sure he could feel the fire burning inside of him. “You want to switch around and become the hero, the martyr, the protagonist of the fucking story just like your namesake, don’t you? You love feeling like you’re the good guy in all of this. You —“

 

“This is not my problem,” Chosen hisses coldly. His eyes shone, fire as well, but not with the same type of heat as Dark’s. “This is you. You’re the problem. You made a virus to delete the world just to what? Rule over it? For fun? What’s the point of deleting everything if —“

 

“You’re wrong.”

 

Chosen stares at him for a moment, then socks him in the same cheek as before. Dark gasps at the impact, the stinging pain a familiar embrace. His cheek was red, hot and flames rose from the contact. Dark takes a steady breath then spits out a glob of blood. After a moment, he recollects himself and stares back at Chosen. Dark grins, lip split and bloodied. “It’s all you. I made the virus because of you.” A moment of weakness enters through the red haze and Dark thinks, distantly to himself: For you. I made it for you.

 

Chosen is wide eyed. “What?” It’s breathy, quiet with the stillness of disbelief.

 

Dark clutched Chosen’s wrist tightly, digging his nails in the skin and hopes that he draws blood. “Don’t think I’m stupid. I saw how you stopped caring about destruction. This was —“

 

“So you made a fucking virus!?” Chosen cuts him off sharply, and all of a sudden he grabs his chin instead and yanks them impossibly closer. Their chests pressed together, Dark’s heartbeat pounding faster than time could allow.

 

“Don’t fucking interrupt me,” Dark snarls as his hands fall limp again. I made it for you. For you. Everything I do is for you. Why won’t you just fucking see it? “I was going to make more fun for you. Wasn’t your fight today the first shock of fun you’ve had in —“

 

“You are sick,” Chosen spits. The pressure against his chin tightened and Dark glares up into his eyes. “You don’t have any regard for other people, you only care about yourself. You and your stupid fun and stupid rule over the Internet — what the fuck do you plan to achieve? What happens when everything is gone, huh? Where’s your fun, then?”

 

I am not my code I am not my code I am not my code I will not destroy The Chosen One I will not destroy “You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid,” Dark says with another grin.

 

Chosen stares at him for a second, glare never wavering, before all of a sudden he surges forward again. This time, instead of a punch, a rough kiss covered his mouth. Dark gasps as he’s pushed back against the wall, mouth falling open out of instinct. Chosen grabs his hands and pins them to the side, squishing his wrist so tightly it cuts off the circulation.

 

Wetness and heat swell inside his mouth, ebb and flowing. Dark closes his eyes and he arched his back closer, closer, closer to Chosen even though he was restrained. A tongue licks into the corners of his mouth, wide, hot, hot, hot

 

“Be quiet,” Chosen snaps when Dark moans softly. He pulls away and Dark chases after his lips, drawn to the feeling of completion. Chosen leans further away and Dark opens his eyes, blurry once again. The world spins and hazes out into black before him.

 

“Kiss me again,” he groans, desperate for the nausea to fade. I am The Dark Lord and I am not “Chosen!”

 

A hand comes into contact with his cheek, the right one this time, and Dark’s head snaps to the opposite side. His vision statically clears and all that’s left is the numbing sting of a slap. “I told you to be quiet,” Chosen says and forces him to look back at him. “Look at me. Look at me. Who are you and where are you?”

 

I am “I am The Dark Lord and I am — I’m —“ He looks around, trying to gauge his surroundings as memories ran away from him. He couldn’t stop looking at Chosen. Everywhere else was fire. “I’m in the Lab and I’m not — I —“ Words get stuck in his throat, clogged, choking him. Dark gags and relief only comes when Chosen shoves a tongue into his mouth again, kissing hungrily and rough and enough to almost hurt.

 

“I hate you,” Dark growls when Chosen pulls away again, mouth flushed pink and wet. The fire rises in him, black smoke clouding his head. “I did everything for you and you —“

 

“Shut up!” Chosen tightens his hold on his wrists and the wall cracks from where they’re pressed against. Dark pants heavily and he wants to scream as the anger boils up in him. “It is not your place to do what you think is right for me. You never ask. You never care. You just assume. You think you’re so smart that you can just predict everything about someone —“ Chosen sticks a leg between Dark’s and presses his knee against his hard crotch, eliciting a groan — “but you don’t. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

 

“I’m —“ I am The Dark Lord and I am not — I will not — I can’t —

 

Chosen kisses him once and starts to trail kisses down to his neck. He sucks and bites and mouths at the left side of his neck, the sensitive part, the part where one wrong move could kill him in an instant. Dark moans again, turning his head to the side and closing his eyes so he can’t see the spinning world around him. Chosen rolled his hips and was grinding down against him and it was too hot, too much, he was — Dark yelps then hisses as Chosen bites particularly hard at him. The feeling of blood dribbles down his neck to his collarbone.

 

Chosen leans back to examine his work, and his knee was circling Dark’s cock slowly. “You’re nothing. You’re no god in this world. You’re pathetic and useless and you’re a narcissistic asshole —“ Chosen let’s go of his hands and pulls his shirt off, reaching for his pants next. “You’re only good for a little fuck. Is this your way of getting attention, hm?”

 

Once Dark’s dick is free, Chosen rubs against it with his jeans. It’s too raw, too rough, and only succeeds in making him cry out in pain. Chosen doesn’t stop, though, and his hands come down to grip his ass tightly. “You’re such a fucking whore. You’d go crazy without having your brains fucked out. You really think you made that virus for me? Everything is about you in your pathetic little world. Everything about you just makes me sick.” Then Chosen shoves him down, so suddenly that Dark can only allow himself to hit the ground with his knees. “Now suck.”

 

Dark blearily opens his eyes again and focuses on the image in front of him. His hands reach out and undoes Chosen’s pants, like routine. Like how every slap, punch, bite was another step in their daily lives. Each burst of pain was as familiar as the pleasure that followed. Every second of love and tenderness could rot into hate and anger in a second. Familiar. Safe.

 

Dark takes Chosen’s length in all at once, feeling the tip press against the back of his mouth and tries not to gag. He sucks quickly, anger and frustration fueling his energy and motions. Chosen groans above him and grabs a fistful of Dark’s hair, pulling it taut. It makes him moan, vibrating against the dick in his mouth, and Chosen takes the cue to start fucking into his mouth. Every thrust hits his throat even further and Dark gags or gurgles each time, saltiness of slick and precum and saliva sloshing all around his mouth.

 

“Cursors,” Chosen swears above him, pulling his hair once more. It burns Dark scalp, planting fire in a place he didn’t even know was missing until just now. “ Ah, you’re only good at being a fucking slut, aren’t you? Yeah? You’re such a shitty fucking person and you think you’d still get to be fucked after all th — mm You know I have to go around cleaning up all your messes? Just because you think you’re so — so — oh —“

 

The words sizzle into his brain and Dark bobs his head even faster, swirling his tongue around. He tries to pump the rest of the dick he couldn’t fit in his mouth, but his hands were shaky and weak. He couldn’t even argue, yell something back with his mouth filled to the brim.

 

Chosen, with one last groan, pulls Dark’s hair back so much that he pulls him off his dick. Dark pops off the top with a wet sound, spit running down the side of his mouth. He tilts his head up and scowls at Chosen. “Get up,” Chosen commands and Dark doesn’t. He stays kneeling, staring, glaring, and Chosen’s expression turns murderous. “You listen to me.” He tugs Dark upwards by his hair, harshly.

 

As soon as he was back on his feet, both Dark and Chosen reach for each other. Their lips lock together and Dark wraps his arms around his neck, the tips of his hair brushing against his forearms. Chosen grips him by his hips and guides him quickly to the table. He pushes him down and Dark’s back bends painfully as he halfway lays on the wooden table.

 

Dark tries to grind up against Chosen’s dick and is bitten on the lip. Blood gushes from the wound and Dark yelps out again, pulling away. He stares up at Chosen’s face — clearer, now, flushed red with sweat glistening at the sides of his face. “Bitch,” Dark mutters.

 

“Whore,” Chosen spits back, then flips him around. Dark’s stomach hits the edge of the table and he suppresses a groan. Chosen grabs his right leg and pushes it up onto the table before pinning his hands above his head. He leans over him, dick just brushing against his exposed hole. “I’m going to make you remember your lesson,” Chosen mutters into his ear and Dark shudders. “You’re gonna take me in you without any prep first. And you come untouched.”

 

“Wh — I — Cho, I can’t —“ When Dark twists his head around to protest to Chosen’s face, he’s pushed back down roughly. His cheek smacks against the old of the table. Chosen recognizes the slight vulnerability in him when he calls him by that nickname, and he shushes him gentler than usual.

 

“Then you’d better remember what you did. Remember who and where you are.”

 

I am The Dark Lord. I am in the Lab. I am safe. Dark growls deeply as he bends his right leg more, trying to fit in on the desk at a comfortable angle. Chosen kisses his shoulder as he starts to push his dick in, and the immediate intrusion has Dark yelping in pain. Even with his prior sucking, it was still too dry, too big, too much. He couldn’t — Dark was going to —

 

Chosen gets deeper and tears prick at the corner of Dark’s eyes. I won’t cry, he tells himself insistently. Even when he seemed to be torn apart by the seam the further in Chosen got inside of him. He can’t see me cry. Not now. Not now.

 

I will not destroy —

 

With one last hard push, Chosen bottoms out, his hips snapping to Dark’s ass with a loud slapping noise. It’s big, overwhelming and just too much. Too hot. Too hot. Dark bites his lip to keep himself from shedding tears, from either screaming or breaking down. Chosen waits for him, even in their anger-filled haze of lust. He sucks on his skin, kisses it, bites softly.

 

“You’re the worst fucking problem,” Chosen groans, and starts to thrust shallowly.

 

Dark can only moan loudly, pleasure blooming even from such a tearing pain. It’s not enough to overshadow the ache, but it keeps him distracted for a while. Hungry, for more. Wanting so desperately for that stage where he loosens up and everything just feels so good. Chosen fucks him faster, grabbing the opportunity for better movement when he can. It hurts. It feels good. Dark was —

 

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, ah,” he wails, “Chosen, Chosen, ah slow down, be c-careful fuck! Haah… ah Chosen, Chosen —“

 

Chosen angles up into his prostate and the pain starts to fade away slowly. Dark’s moans get choked up and mixes with each other, tangled as pleasure pushes them out. It’s burning him and everything hurts and everything feels so good and Dark can’t hold back the tears anymore. His moans are masked by cries, wet with gushing tears and he could barely see, but not from the code this time — it was more tears, more ecstasy, more, more —

 

“You want more?” Chosen pants into his ear. “You’re still so tight. Such a little slut. Weren’t you so big and powerful moments before? Didn’t you create a grand plan to take over the Internet and destroy every stick in your way? Where’s all that confidence now? Aren’t you just begging for my dick? All you’ll ever be is a cute little slut and you know it.”

 

He goes faster, thrusting in so deeply that every second is accompanied by the sound of wet skin against skin. Dark’s tears roll down his face and gather up into puddles at the table. He could see the blue of the ocean and how the sun shone on the waves; the gray cool stone of the cliffs and lush green grass. Anyone could see him getting his back blown out right now. Anyone close by could hear his moans from a mile away.

 

Dark’s cock aches from negligence and he can’t even grab it to provide some friction. He was close to coming soon, anyways. All the pent up anger he tried to swallow down and stress and dirty feelings of betrayal was expanding, about to burst. He was getting so close. Dark blabbered almost incoherently, begging Chosen to pick up the pace as he chased after his orgasm. He wanted to be touched so bad. He was getting so, so close —!

 

“More, more, more, faster! Ahh, Chosen you ass, fucking — mm! I’m so close, I’m gonna come, you’re so —“

 

Chosen lets go of his hands and grips him by the hips. With that support, he fucks him almost at lightning speed, thrusting deeper and deeper and Dark swore he could see stars

 

When he comes, Chosen doesn’t stop. Dark manages it for a while, letting the continued thrusting ride out his orgasm. But it soon gets to be too much, and he tightens up again. Chosen was still inside and everything was hot again. “Chosen,” Dark sobs desperately, “hurry up and fucking come already, please please please, ah — slow down, slow down! It hurts.”

 

“I’m close,” Chosen groans roughly, voice gruff. He does slow a bit, growing gentle. “Close, close —“

 

“C-Cho…”

 

Chosen bites down on his shoulder, sharp teeth digging into the flesh and pulling blood from the gashes. Dark lets out a choked moan as he feels Chosen’s cum burst inside him, lining up the sides of his hole. He clenched down tightly, overstimulated, and sags his body in exhaustion. Chosen kisses the bite mark, lapping away the blood. After a few moments of the two catching their breath, he cautiously starts to pull out.

 

There’s a quiet squelch as his dick leaves his hole, and Dark can feel the cold frigidity of the wind blow against the liquid that dribbled down his legs. He was cold. He was so, so cold and wind blew around him like a hurricane. And he lay in the very of the storm, all sounds drowned out with the screams of wind.

 

I am The Dark Lord and I am in the Lab and I am safe and I am not my code and I will not destroy The Chosen One.

 

The Chosen One.

 

Dark can’t move. His body was paralyzed with exhaustion, eyelids struggling to stay open. Don’t leave me, he wants to scream out, so loud that Chosen could hear it for days after. Don’t leave me here, don’t leave me alone, don’t leave, don’t leave, don’t leave me —

 

His eyes close, stay closed, and he drifts off into unconsciousness.

 

 


 

 

Dark wakes up warm, embraced, and calm. He opens his eyes halfway and finds Chosen close. His arms were around him, under a blanket. It was dark, possibly around midnight. Dark was dressed, in a shirt that felt like none of his own so it must’ve been Chosen’s, in a pair of shorts that rubbed against sore thighs unfamiliar so it must also be Chosen’s. He shifts slightly and feels the weight of Chosen’s legs tangled up in his own.

 

The eyes in front of him open and Chosen zeroes in on his face. Dark stared at him and Chosen holds him closer, then presses a chaste kiss to his forehead. “Go to sleep.”

 

“I hate you.”

 

“I know.”

Notes:

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