#darkiplier x gender neutral reader

[theknightmarket]

Knight, knight, knight- a somewhat wholesome idea popped into my mind. The da is stuck inside the mirror right? What if they gained powers that allows them to travel through dreams? In a sense they have their adventures depends on the host person/enity and they just go along with.

and okay what if dark knew what the upsidedown world is capable? And its what drives dark to never fall asleep (aside not needing one) and also why is he so hellbent chasing and taking revenge on mark so when its all over, he'll take his rest, be with the da for eternity

"Good morning, sunshine."

In which Dark and the DA interact through unconventional means. Tw: death mention Pages: 17 - Words: 6,500

[Requests: OPEN]

The first time, you weren’t sure what had happened. You weren’t sure if it was good or bad. You weren’t sure whether it was because of something you had done, or it was just a random event, some miracle that had gotten you out of that mirror. Hell, you weren’t sure what was actually happening. How you got to some kind of bank or museum was pushed to the back of your mind, but so too were the events occurring right in front of you. It was embarrassing that this was the happiest you had been in decades, even if it was understandable.

To hear the distant whirring of inefficient streetlights, to see something other than a boundless sky of complete blackness that wrapped around you, under, above, disappearing into the floor and reappearing from the ceiling – it was enough to push you close to tears.

But confusion overruled that, instead, making you wonder why that was all you were given, why you couldn’t smell, or feel, or even taste.

And then horror rattled your senses as you watched a body step out from where you were standing.

Your initial idea was inaccurate.

Because you did not exist here.

Because you were not standing at the edge of a row of bushes, shaded by the night and staring into the doors of a building.

Because you were not out of the mirror.

Never mind being close to tears, you felt a few stray drops link up at the base of your jawline. You were scared to wipe them away for fear of finding yourself without hands.

So, what was this? If you hadn’t suddenly escaped from the mirror without your knowledge, why could you see a pair of criminals decked out in all black somewhere that was distinctly not a similar shade of void?

You asked yourself this, knowing fully well that you couldn’t give yourself an answer, and you wouldn’t get an answer for the foreseeable future. There were, however, some things that you managed to deduce over the course of the next hour or so – an indistinguishable period only because time seemed to be ever-so-slightly off.

That was the first of your clues; over the course of the adventure that you watched play out in front of you, each move from room to room took only the flick of a wrist, while the people you were following stared at each other for minutes at a time in complete silence. It was anyone’s guess as to when the clock would leap forward or jam its own mechanisms.

The second clue required no experimentation. It was simply that they didn’t acknowledge you at all. They didn’t make any indication that they could see or hear you. You were lost to them, worse than lost, they didn’t know you were there in the first place. They just sneaked around the museum, completely unaware of the person staring them dead in the eyes.

Had this experience happened any earlier, you might have felt more than a distant sting, but, as it was, it didn’t bother you too much. You were used to being ignored, cast away, forgotten. At least this was by people that you didn’t already know, people that you hadn’t survived the worst with, people that you didn’t trust with your very life, people that you once cared about and who you once thought cared about you.

Maybe it did bother you, just a little.

The third clue came a lot later than the others, but it spearheaded the theory that you were constructing in the back of your mind. Or, rather, the theory that you had constructed because the thing that gave it away?

It was when it all ended, and you were dumped unceremoniously back in the darkness, alone and uncertain of everything. That was one of the worst parts. Having occupied that space for nearly a century, you had been so sure in your knowledge of the place. You were in a mirror – there was nothing else there but you – you were stuck there. The most comfort you could find in the situation was that it wasn’t going to change.

But then it did, and you were pushed back to square one, taking tiny steps around the void, constantly worrying that a single foot in the wrong position would send you crashing through the ground. It was torturous to have your safety ripped away from you again, but what were you supposed to expect? Fate wasn’t kind, and it treated you like its personal plaything, only the game had morphed into something a little crueler.

Your theory, as unstable and undeveloped as it was, was that it was just a dream. In your state between life and death, your oh-so-generous master Fate had designed little shows for you. Entertainment was rare in the void, so what was kinder than giving you some? Never mind the fact that it drove you insane, you should have been grateful to get a glimpse of a life you could have lived had you not gone to that forsaken party. No need for you to lament your cruel undeath. The dreams were a kindness.

You didn’t know how it happened, how you had magically appeared somewhere else, so you didn’t know how to get there again. The outside, if that was what it was, quickly became a distant memory. It was fleeting, a whisp of smoke that intertwined itself between your fingers and then disappeared. It faded, just as the adrenaline and hope did as the seconds ticked by on a clock you couldn’t see.

And then it happened again.

By the end, you were on the edge of a breakdown. The shambles of your mind repulsed each shard of itself, trying to escape from the impossibility you were trapped in. You felt each crack that spiderwebbed across the surface. You felt each tap-tap-tap of tiny splinters falling. You felt it fighting the scenarios you were forced into.

This dream had the same people, but they acted completely different. They traded out their heist gear for formalwear, but their date didn’t last long. It devolved, like the other situation had, into weirder and weirder ends. Body doubles, a proposal, a prison much like you had seen before. Neither of them seemed to notice the similarity, though, and they went along through their routes without a care in the world. It might have been cute had it not made you sick to your stomach.

Regardless, though, you were distracted in the very final moments.

You had to admit, you were interested in how this one would end. It was a 50/50 with one of the original pair holding the gun, between two men who looked the same, both promising they were the one to be trusted. You weren’t paying attention, not initially. You had been tagging along behind the two for the better part of the entire day, and, at some point, you got bored enough to find more entertainment in the scenery than in the dilemma they were facing.

You missed nature more than you missed manslaughter cases.

You didn’t know who they shot in the end, but one of the men was laying on the ground when you snapped back to the ‘present’. You supposed you were meant to feel some kind of sympathy for him, the way that he crumpled to the ground, but it was difficult to find any emotion here. Instead, you leaned against the building that the two who were left ended up at. It was another of those jumps in time, not that any time could be wasted in a dream.

Was it bad that you were apathetic to all this? You knew it wouldn’t have consequences; you would return to the void again when this was all over, alone, and easily forgetting the events of the dream – but it still felt wrong to be so nonchalant about it. If you were any other sort of person, the kind who hadn’t been left alone for a century, being dragged into another scenario might have borne excitement. Seeing people, whether or not they saw you, might have given you hope.

But you weren’t that kind of person, and you weren’t excited or hopeful. You were a ghost, sent adrift in a house too new for you, ignored by the living who now inhabited it, and why shouldn’t you have been? They had no reason to care about you, they didn’t have to acknowledge you, they weren’t—

A spark of electricity like a bullet shot through you when you noticed the man sitting at the table. Not only had he not left yet, like the person you had been following, but he was staring straight at you.

The rising of your stomach made you think you were going to throw up. The quickening of your breath made you think you were going to pass out. The widening of his eyes made you think he felt the same. Neither of you acted, not for the first moments that it took for you to assess the situation, assess him.

Dark suit, dark hair, dark eyes. The only color about him were the rings of red and blue that waved off him like watercolor paints added to a canvas. They resisted one another but equally drew closer to the man’s edges. Regardless of the fight between them, he sat perfectly still. If there hadn’t been a certain look in his eyes – the glaze of someone who was both relieved and terrified – you might have mistaken him for being calm, however, there was that glaze, and it was a combination you were knocked breathless by because it was him. You recognized him.

And a similar sense of fear and comfort fired off in the chambers of your heart, hitting the walls as though they were a batting cage.

You took the first step, physically, and metaphorically. You didn’t think you would remain upright if you didn’t latch onto the empty chair for support as you muttered, “Dark?”

Your voice was rough in your throat. It felt more like you’d spat up a coat of oil than a real word. Years of disuse, the silence of the void that bid you follow suit, years of misuse, screaming into the pitch blackness for just a chance of an echo.

Hearing your own name sent back at you had you stumbling. Suddenly encased by your lost reality, you didn’t notice Dark jolt forward in his seat, hand barely outstretched and mouth semi-parted. Neither of you knew what he intended to do, but you acted first, dropping into the chair.

“How,” came his next words, slow, quiet, gentle like he was soothing an animal or someone he found dying on the road, “how are you here?”

Only his first question, and you couldn’t answer it. Not perfectly accurately, anyway, so your rough estimates would have to do. “I don’t know, I-I followed… I followed someone here.”

His fist clenching on the table caught your eye, but you were stopped from asking about it when he tried to clarify for you, “Mark.”

A myriad of other curiosities appeared – a frigid tone, bitter but unsurprised, and the warbling of the blue and red lines around him, among others – and yet they dissipated just as fast when he met your eyes. The search for something apparently proved fruitless; he leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and cocked his head to one side. A silent question. 

Why weren’t you angry?

Because you were completely fine upon hearing that name. In Dark’s mind, he considered it impossible that you should stay draped in the chair after the man that caused your demise was mentioned. No malice surfaced, no anger, no sadness, just a blink that was nothing more than an instinct. 

Maybe it had something to do with the years you had spent alone, or maybe you never held it against him in the first place. The actor had been unstable for months leading up to your reunion. The events weren’t expected, of course, and in no way would you have chosen to go through that if you had the ability to go back – but they were what happened. Resignation softened your body language and your mind, prompting you to pay more attention to the present than the past.

Right now, Dark’s comment only served to add to your theory.

“Why does it have to be Mark?” you asked, knocking the man across from you out of his stupor. “Why can’t I have followed the other person?”

His brow furrowed, and it made you wonder how much he knew about the situation, the thought that followed being how much he would tell you.

“Because they—” Dark drew into himself as soon as the words escaped his mouth, “—are not the one dreaming.”

It was your turn to look curious. You were a person of fact by nature. Magic and demons and expansive, blank voids, they were fairytales used to scare children back into their beds at night. Simply put, they weren’t real. And the power of dreams? What stock were you supposed to put in that?

So, without another option, you said, simply, “Explain.”

And explain Dark did.

Having one third of your form come from the void had its perks, especially in describing its powers, the influence it had, what it could do. And, as you proceeded to hear, it could do a lot – more than you had ever imagined it capable of, given the absolute nothingness of it – but the thing that interested you the most was the accessibility of it.

Things like the entities, the ones that made up Dark and took over Celine’s body, were able to use the void like a hub. It allowed them to jump from place to place within seconds. Without a physical form, it would have otherwise been difficult to move around. Hell, it was difficult to move around, because getting out of the void was much harder than getting in. It required one very specific ability.

One that you did not possess.

“And you put me in there.”

“I did.” 

He said this with no emotion. It wasn’t an apology, nor was it a threat; it was a simple statement of fact, an admission without the guilt. You didn’t know if he had the ability to feel it. As far as your knowledge went, the inhumane entity within Dark took away the chance of it, leaving only the reality behind, as unbelievable as it sounded.

“Did you know I wouldn’t be able to get out?” was the only thing you asked.

This time, there was a short pause before he answered. The memory unwound in his mind while he processed the question. You had asked if he knew, and he asked himself the same thing. Objectively, yes. There was no way that a human – flesh, bones, blood – would be able to leave the void, and Dark understood that. He had never believed otherwise.

And yet, there had been something else behind his actions, because it wasn’t his intention to keep you locked up inside the mirror.

Slowly, tasting the words in his mouth, he repeated, “I did.” The response felt right, he wasn’t lying, but…

You watched as Dark leaned forward in his chair, elbows on the table and head resting on his clasped hands. Everything was deliberate. His suit jacket didn’t crease if he didn’t want it to, and his tie stayed flush against his shirt where it was meant to be, but the look in his eye made you think he was anything but conscious of the present. This seemed to be affecting him more than you, and you were the one with the vitamin D deficiency. 

The confirmation that yes, he knew kept repeating like a broken record in Dark’s mind. However, it wasn’t because that puzzled him. Really, it was the only thing that made sense. What actually threw him through a loop was the simple fact that it hadn’t mattered. Trapping you in the void, keeping you away from the real world, was not the logical option. If he had been looking for the best way to carry out his pledge of revenge on Mark, getting rid of Damien would have been the best option. He had the obligations of the mayor of a city, he had an awkward relationship with the actor – both too distant and not far enough – and he was so, so painfully emotional. Painfully human.

Celine hated Mark so much that she thrived on the plan’s progress. The thought of revenge nourished her and made Dark stronger. She had the determination he needed to go through with it all. She was the obvious choice to keep in that amalgamation of souls. The entity was staying, and that was that, no deliberation required. 

That left just you and Damien. 

Dark had seen you work, or, rather, Damien had the memories of you in the court room. To surmise, you were good, very good, and you were able to separate your emotions from the case. While the witness on the stand was hurling profanities, you made eye contact and stood your ground. If the prosecutor started floundering, you pounced on the opportunity to tear about their words. You were exact, efficient, and a force to be reckoned with. 

But poor, sweet Damien? He was always at the back of Dark’s mind, his best excuse for a conscience that constantly reminded him what the moral choice was, regardless of whether he had taken the last one, or the one before that, or the one before that. He was persistent. He was a liability. It wasn’t a shock that he turned out to be the only thing stopping him from latching on to Mark in one of his dreams and killing him when he woke up.

So, the question was: why did Dark push you out and keep Damien?

As if sensing the answer was in arm’s reach, something – and he said something, but he knew what, who, it was – forced him to look up and at you.

Well, that explained it.

Dark’s inner monologue took no more than thirty seconds, even with the strange tick-tock of the clock in a dream, and you watched him and nothing but him in that time. You were still looking at him when he snapped back to the present. As though someone had snapped their fingers, you saw the calculating cold, the pressing tension, the rampant search for an answer melt away in layers to reveal the truth behind it all. As he leaned back into his seat and laid his arms out on the sides, the creases at his eyes softened and a faint smile pulled at his lips.

“The mirror was not meant to be a prison,” Dark started to explain before he was overcome with the pointless need to take a deep breath. Your expression of pure curiosity pulled at his unmoving heart, squeezing it in a grip that he didn’t describe as uncomfortable. Gently and unable to look away, he continued, “And I’m sorry that it was one. I intended it to be a sanctuary, of sorts.”

A flash of confusion darted through your eyes, and Dark rushed to continue before it could turn into suspicion. “I wanted to keep you away from Mark, away from the consequences of everything.”

It was at the end of that sentence, with perfect timing, that his neck was snapped to the side. The bones popped and the nerves twisted. He tried to play it off, but you clearly noticed. Your concern made his heart clench just as painfully as his neck, so he brought a hand up to show that he was fine.

You didn’t believe him, and he didn’t make it any more convincing when he said, “You would have died.”

You knew that; your body was dead on impact, but that wasn’t what he was talking about. Instead, because of him, your soul was alive, even if it only existed in the confines of a metaphysical world. 

A question about the integrity of your survival died on your tongue as you registered the strange frown on Dark’s face. It twitched at the sides, threatening to pull further down, but he kept it as straight as he could. The same couldn’t be said about the few tears brimming in the corners of his eyes. He almost succeeded at containing his emotion until one betrayed him and slid to his jawline with a mutter of, “I had to save you.”

“Thank you.”

His breath caught in his throat at your response. For all his monologues and explanations, he hadn’t expected you to be grateful. You, of all people, thanked him, and it wasn’t a joke. He had never seen as genuine a smile on anyone’s face, him not having met more than four people notwithstanding, to the point that it almost lit up the gray of his skin to a normal tone.

And you did mean it. The man in front of you – the one currently tearing up at the mere possibility of losing you – wasn’t malicious. Being the district attorney had given you the almost magical ability to tell when someone was lying. It had served you well in court, and it served you well here. The conclusion you came to took no longer than a few seconds. Personal history did have its benefits, after all, and you had learned long ago how to not be impeded by a pretty face. From all the evidence in front of you, Dark was trustworthy.

You trusted him.

“Of course,” he replied as his hand darted to the lapel of his jacket to sturdy himself. The attention was almost too much, and he found his mouth moving before he understood what he wanted to say. “You said you followed Mark here?”

You nodded, disregarding the fact that Dark had told you that you had followed Mark, for his sake. You also didn’t mention his shaky attempt to compose himself and waited for his next words. You weren’t in any rush to speed things along; for all you knew, talking to Dark was the only thing keeping you in this dream. It surprised you that you hadn’t been dropped back into the void yet, but you didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, it had its other advantages.

You hadn’t seen Dark since the first time on that fateful night, and it took everything out of you to not see him, or anyone else, again. When you were in the pitch black, you imagined that you would get attached to the first person you saw, and it was a shock to you when that wasn’t the case. The nature drew you in before Mark or his partner in crime could, but you had still tried to talk to them. During your experimentation, you had whispered in their ears, yelled at them, said all manner of things to get their attention, but none had worked, so you quickly moved on. Nothing kept you around them.

But there was something with Dark. The space around you shifted, as if the dream itself recognized the moment and gave it a wide berth. Out of respect or fear or nothing, you didn’t know, yet it was undeniable that it happened, and you were glad it did. You wanted to preserve the bubble of safety that had molded around you. There was a part of you that bargained with the dream, as inane as that sounded, to get more time with Dark. The clock worked differently here, so why couldn’t it grant you a slower pace?

Unaware of your mental bartering, Dark pushed on with his questioning. It came as a surprise to you, having not been focusing at all on the present. 

“How?”

You had to take a second to remember what you were talking about, but, when it came to you, you realized you weren’t able to give him much.

“I don’t know. I’m normally stuck in the void, but lately it’s been tossing me around. I went somewhere else before, a heist of some kind. It was much more complicated than this, though.”

You hadn’t paid much attention to the paths this time. There was much less to explore, and the hope of having escaped had worn off. You were fairly certain they were the same people, too, so any contact was old news. You weren’t interested in the heist dream either, not after the sixth time you ended up outside that museum with the pair of thieves.

Despite that, Dark appeared to make up for your lack of enthusiasm; he practically lunged, one hand steadying his body on the back of the chair as he leaned forward, so much so that he was half bent over the table between you.

In a breathless voice, he asked, “Where?” It was more of a demand, really, colored so from the unfamiliar want. It took a moment for him to realize himself, and he then sat back down in the seat. One hand went to card through his hair, throwing it about haphazardly as he amended, “Where were you? I… I was there, but, evidently, we didn’t see each other.”

As you thought through your response, Dark took the time to reprimand part of his mind for his outbursts. He couldn’t afford to break down right now, there were far more important things at stake that made getting distracted too risky, no matter how much the voice in the back of his mind begged to be let loose.

Before you opened your mouth, he managed to similarly berate his general self for thinking it a semi-appealing idea.

“I was distracted,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “It all felt so real.”

When you stared down at your hands, the outlines of your fingers shimmered, and the veins on the undersides of your wrists pulsed with white light. How were you to know you weren’t alive? Were you a fool for thinking you had escaped, for being tricked, like an owner who had thrown a ball for a dog but just held it behind their back? You went off chasing it, of course, not noticing the stranger things around you. You were too obsessed with the mundane and the possibility that you had a body when you should have known that you didn’t.

Hearing that Dark had been in the same place, maybe, at one point, right under your nose, a deep sense of regret unfurled in your stomach. You had lamented not being able to talk to anyone, but you had ignored the one chance you had at it. If you had just paid more attention, your heart wouldn’t be trying to destroy itself.

As if sensing your spiraling discomfort, the red and blue lines around Dark flared and spasmed. They whipped out at places and curled in at others, mimicking radio waves with their peaks and troughs. It brought your attention to the current moment, and you were glad it did because you became acutely aware of the expression on the face of the man opposite you.

In the midst of the cold, calculating cover he tried to pull, there was a hint of desperation peeking through the weak spots. His eyes, ever the window to the soul, were still glossy with unshed tears, and his mouth, no matter how much focus he put towards smirking, dipped for seconds at a time. You wanted nothing more than to lean forward and comfort him, but the dream was an unkind thing; your legs didn’t cooperate, you were unable to move an inch to brush the drops away.

You offered him the most you could, saying gently, “This feels different.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“I think so.”

Any reason you had in mind was wiped away when a tingling sensation danced at the tips of your fingers. It was something like a limb falling asleep, but it was spreading fast. Your heart rate sped up to a dangerous speed as it got faster and faster, turning into a wildfire that stopped you feeling anything, and it only got worse when you looked down.

Your hands had completely disappeared, the space empty where they had been before. Looking to the ground, you saw nothing but a neon white, which likewise surrounded you when you glanced around you. This hadn’t happened before, and it was terrifying you.

“It’s okay,” Dark said. Thankfully, he didn’t sound panicked – you didn’t think you could handle it if he wasn’t as calm as he was – and he even went so far as to start explaining. You had always liked knowing things. A smile snuck onto Dark’s face as he remembered the singular time that you had been forced to explore negative capability in university, which ended with you throwing the textbook out of the window. In any other situation, he might have teased you for it, but you didn’t have the time.

“The dream is ending,” he started, trying to sound confident despite the fear of not seeing you again nestling itself in his heart. “I suppose you’ve never strayed this far from the start before.”

You shook you head; at the end of the heist, before you were dumped back into the void, you had been standing just where you began, in front of the museum. Now, you didn’t know where you were, but you calmed yourself with Dark’s clarification. Well, his clarification and the pressure of his hand against your upper arm. The contact was inches away from empty air, and you feared for a moment of irrational indulgence that it would speed up and you would lose the feeling. 

Your attention snapped back to Dark as he continued talking, “It works outwards. Everything will disappear eventually, but we’re on the edge. We have time.”

He refrained from telling you exactly how much time you had left here, all too aware that it would make you flounder. He had watched the environment disappear before. It wasn’t comforting and it wasn’t pretty, so he preferred staying in the darkness, where it wasn’t as obvious that everything was gradually fading away. Finding you in the daylight was a stoke of luck, a miracle. The only reason why he was out there in the first place was because…

“Mark is around here, too.”

You nodded, a simple confirmation or more complicated agreement, he wasn’t sure, but he stood from his seat, nevertheless. Your torso was gone, now, nothing but a shimmering outline that was gradually disappearing itself. You were close to completely returning to the void, and there was a part of Dark that was unimaginably frightened it would be for the last time.

Another part reminded him of what he was supposed to do, told him it would help you if he adapted to this, convinced him that it was the right thing to do. It surprised him when the resistance that normally came with that simply didn’t.

His legs moved on their own towards the parking lot, where he knew Mark still was, but your voice stopped him before he passed you.

“Come back safe, alright?”

How was he supposed to say no to you? When you were looking at him with such trust and belief, it was impossible.

He leaned down to press his lips against your forehead. Your skin was surprisingly warm, considering your situation, but that might have come from his natural coolness. Still, it was nice. A good contrast that had the back of his mind focused entirely on the feeling. 

“Of course.”

The shimmering was gone, and you along with it. 

Dark stepped back, registered a strange satisfaction in his heart, and took a deep breath.

The actor was dead within the hour.

It didn’t take much, surprisingly. In fact, it was quite easy. As Dark stood above Mark’s finally vacant body – returned once and for all to the state it should have been in – he found no burst of adrenaline. No anger, no sadness, no passion. Nothing but the dull hum of satisfaction, just the same as the one from when you had disappeared. It was done, and that was that.

Mark was dead. Damien and Celine were appeased. 

His job was complete.

He dropped the bloody axe to the floor, the clatter and thud not reaching his ears. Someone else would bury the body. Another would open an investigation into his death. A deep cut, like one from felling a tree, wasn’t going to be described as natural. It didn’t matter, though; arresting someone who should have already been dead was as difficult as murdering one. Dark had nothing to fear.

He also had nothing to do. There were no more plans to be made, no more vengeance to be enacted, and you had told him to come back safe, right? Maybe taking a rest wasn’t such a bad idea.

The manor, Dark’s base of operations that he loathed to call his base of operations, was quiet when he arrived back. It didn’t bother him, he had never appreciated the bustle and boom of all the parties once hosted there. It had prompted one part of him to find a safe space in a spare bedroom at one end of the house, and that was exactly what he needed – somewhere to be that didn’t come with the strings of tracking down Mark.

The door creaked as he pushed it open and groaned as he closed it again. Despite the confines of a tailored suit, he didn’t stop himself from falling onto the untouched sheets of the bed. It had been so long since he had laid down; for the past century, he had either been ramrod straight or sitting in his chair, and laying sideways across a desk hadn’t done him any good.

This position was much better. Was this the kind of ‘different’ you had spoken about? He hoped so, with the relaxation that ran through him. It was enough to coax him to close his eyes and let it all go, like a siren at the edge of a boat on stormy seas.

And then came the voice of one, too.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

Slowly, Dark opened his eyes again, with the distinct feeling of trust firm in his heart. A new voice in the manor would normally be cause for concern, but he knew the voice. He knew you.

The only thing he didn’t know was what was happening.

When he knocked himself out of his sentimentality, Dark was greeted by the sight of you against the backdrop of the moonlight. He was still in that room, resting on the bed, but everything seemed altered in some way. You were the most obvious difference, and he was half sure that you were behind the softness of the scene, as if, in the time he was out, you had painted over the furniture, the walls, the light itself.

You dropped down on the edge of the bed as Dark pulled himself into a sitting position.

“I’m not,” he started, but he was forced to trail off. He didn’t know how to verbalize a single thought, and yet that wasn’t as frightening as he thought it would be. With you, he didn’t think it possible to be scared. Still, he tried again, “You’re…”

You shook your head and reached to place your hand over his. This was the first time you had made contact with him, and he quickly found he never wanted it to end.

“No, I’m not alive,” you answered his silent question, “and neither are you, by the looks of things.”

“I don’t understand.”

You didn’t expect him to. When he had sat across from you, he radiated a certain poise and manner that only came with certainty. You had seen it in witnesses, prosecutors, clients. They all acted the exact same when they were on their home turf, and when they were moved away from it.

Luckily, Dark was taking it better than they did – there was less yelling and cursing and threatening – but there was still the undercurrent of concern.

It was your turn to explain as you said, “You killed Mark. You did what you needed to do.”

“Exactly, he’s gone.”

He said it with a small smile, but his downturned eyebrows and deeper breaths betrayed the confusion.

You brought your other hand over his unattended one and collected the two into a grip. “Oh, my dear, he’s not the only one who can dream.”

Taking advantage of his lapse in troubled thoughts, you dipped your head to lightly kiss the exposed skin of his knuckles. They were weathered by time, a statue left outside too long, and you hoped to sooth some of the damage the elements had done.

“You look tired,” you muttered.

“I am.”

“Go on, then.” 

You tried not to return your hands to his when you saw the flash of fear on his face as you took them away to gesture vaguely at the headrest. A trio of fresh, fluffed pillows lay there, and, although you wondered just how comfortable his suit could be, you wanted him to relax some. This wasn’t the waking world, after all.

While Dark shifted to remove his jacket, you drifted towards the fireplace along the wall opposite. The burst of flame calmed down quickly, blending into small embers behind the grate. 

“From what I’ve been able to figure out, it’s a replica of the manor from its better days. I think it’s empty but sometimes I hear…”

In a case of excellent timing, the distant squeal of childish laughter came from down the hallway. It was followed by footsteps, quickening, and then sliding into another room. You never saw who exactly was out there, but based on the man staring at the door, you were safe to assume the possibilities.

“Better days,” he repeated, nodding to himself, and then looked back at you. You always were so smart.

You returned to Dark’s side after securing more logs in the hearth, though you hesitated, standing awkwardly with a hand to your chest.

No words were needed for him to realize your thought process, so he offered a hand of his own, which you took without further deliberation. It took another soft tug for you to relax against him, at which point he curled an arm around your shoulders and brought you as close as possible, but it was solely your decision to reach up and undo his tie, draping it over a post once it was fully removed.

“I can’t believe this is happening. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

You were content to leave it at that. Hell, you had been content to stay standing beside him while he slept, but this was much better.

Dark, however, pressed a kiss to the back of your head, sighed, and mumbled, “How do I know I won’t wake up?”

You twisted in his hold to look at him. For all the love and trust his eyes held, it wasn’t enough to completely mask a genuine desperation.

“Do you want to wake up?” you asked, simply and plainly.

He responded in the same fashion. “No.”

“Then you won’t. It’s your dream, after all, and I think you deserve to rest.”

That was all it took for the fear to melt away. Dark’s eyes fell shut, and he knocked his head against yours for a moment, just to savor the feeling, before he fully leaned forward and connected your lips.

It was a tired, late-night kiss that you shared. You wouldn’t lie, you had imagined you would have one after a rough day at the office, pressing cases and pressing clients that got on your nerves, instead of finally relaxing with a man you had never thought you’d see again – but it still served the same purpose. It made your heartbeat slow and your shoulders drop. The slow dance between the two of you brought smiles to your faces, tender and loving. It was a silent agreement that this was the ending you had hoped for.

What a dream this was. 

[Thank you so much for requesting, and I'm sorry for the delay! I thought that I’d be able to get more done over these past weeks, but college projects have taken up a lot of my time, unfortunately. On the other hand, if anyone wants to take about British witchcraft in the 1600s or mental health post-World War 2, hit me up, because I’m about to knock my teeth out over this :D! On a lighter note, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed <3]

[yuckie-obsessive]

Did You Miss Me?

Remembered ADWM when Dark says, “Did you miss me? I missed you- very much.” And now I wanna make a drabble on it.

Maybe a little variation on what happens in ADWM. Thinking of making a new HC where he can’t touch you unless you give him permission or initiate it first. Of course he can ask for it or give vague gestures in hopes you will accept him.

Darkiplier x Reader (gender neutral)

Set up: essentially the same intro as ADWM, but a little more intimate. Sfw only tho

~★~

You had become extremely disoriented from the rough switch in atmosphere. The ringing that echoed within your mind was not helping either. Your date was no where to be found and neither was the stage.

“Hello, darling.” A disembodied voice greeted. Then a monochrome figure appeared in front of you, though it was difficult to keep eyes on him when he was surrounded by blue and red doubles.

He straightened at your distress and the visual glitching subsided slightly.

He cleared his throat, “I missed you, dear. It’s been quite some time wouldn’t you say?” He took a step forward, extending a hand, only for you to take a step back in confusion. He clenched his hand and let it fall.

“My apologies, this must seem rather forward. Though I must admit,” his jaw clenched, “I’ve grown tired of this perpetual game we’ve been forced to play.”

He straightened his already perfect suit and sighed, “It doesn’t matter… surely you must be aware of this cycle by now?”

You had felt rather caught off by the consistent, repetitive actions you had been forced to perform. You slowly nodded.

“Then let me further enlighten you,” he waved his hand to summon different visions of your adventure so far, even things that have yet to occur. “You must understand this was all his plan (y/n). I have simply disrupted this game, if only momentarily.”

“How did you-“

“This isn’t our first encounter. We have met many times in the past.” His expression shifted, but returned so quickly that you thought you imagined it. “It was brought to my attention that he decided to drag you along once again. A shame he continuously removes your memories of his games… our little meetings. Manipulating the plot to suit his needs,” his sudden harsh tone and odd shattered reflection startled you. He took a breath so steady himself and moved closer, now towering over you. “I can take you from this wretched cycle… to show you what we had together,” once again, he offered his hand.

“Please, (y/n)…” His voice grew strained, “Let me in... Let me be everything you need,” his head tilted to whisper softly into your ear. Dangerously close yet still refraining from contact.

You looked to his hand and cautiously moved to take it, but hesitated.

“I promise you this, your every need will be met. Your heart’s desires fulfilled… Let me protect you now where I couldn’t before. Let me amend my mistakes…”

You felt a great sadness from his words. Letting your naive trust get the better of you, your hand lightly accepted his.

The moment your hands connected, he rushed to embrace you causing you to gasp. He buried his face into your neck, reciting apologies and promises of loyalty. The air grew lighter, and for the first time since you could ever remember, you felt lucid.

He removed himself and held your shoulders. His smile filled you with warmth.

“Let’s catch up, old friend.”

[mbgcreates]

Under the Mistletoe

Word count: 1481

A/N: You know what, sure, I'll put this one here. Also, THIS WON'T BE SITTING FOR ANOTHER YEAR!! This was started about two years ago, and I only just finished it 😅 enjoy! Remember, reblogs > likes! Thank you!

Dark is…nervous.

It's been a long time since he's felt this way; the closest he can recall is when Wilford gets overly trigger-happy at the worst of times and jeopardizes his plans, or when the man has one of his memory spells. But this…

Dark glances at the mistletoe hanging from the doorframe of his office, visible only from the inside. It’s been… Well, in another lifetime, he had attempted this tradition before and succeeded a few times, although he was much more nervous then than he is currently. Besides, times have changed. He’s a different man, now. One that he thought wasn’t so capable of something like “nervousness.” Do you even like him enough that this will work—

Nonetheless, he requested some time ago that you come to his office at your earliest convenience. He knows you won’t ignore it, because he hardly ever invites you there. If he does, it must be important. As this is. As you are.

He cannot focus on his paperwork in the interim. Instead of a refuge, it feels like an overwhelming mountain, stretching up almost indefinitely. He's not even sure why he has so much of it, a creature of the void as he is, but somehow, Wilford’s very existence comes with paperwork. The other egos cause headaches, but typically not paperwork. Not often, anyway.

And you. Somehow, you’ve managed to fit in with the craziness that is this revolving door of oddballs. It took time, but you’ve carved out your own niche, and the more aggressive of the bunch eventually stopped antagonizing you. Wilford, as was his wont, took you “under his wing,” which largely meant you’d run around doing increasingly inane errands until Dark had to step in. You weren’t built for that, after all. It was the first time he saw anything that wasn’t (fear) concern in your eyes when looking at him.

Dark sighs and shuffles some papers around. The dark wood of his desk pokes through, matched by the dreary wallpaper, black bookshelves with equally desaturated books, and dark wood flooring. It's like it's bearing down on him, suffocating him in his anxiousness instead of being a comfort. After the day he stepped in, you slowly began to spend a bit more time with him around the manor, and he found himself missing your presence on some days when you weren’t around.

Your footsteps announce your arrival far in advance, his supernatural hearing better than a human’s, and he actually has to take a deep breath to calm himself. In all honesty, the nerves wouldn't be that bad, but for him? Anything more than a little is too much.

He had discovered by way of accidentally overhearing that, despite appearances, you enjoyed the little things, especially the little romantic things. It was strange, to consider such concepts after so long, to let the idea germinate in his mind until an idea bloomed. An idea that he is still second-guessing until this very moment. He pretends to keep working until you rap on the door frame. "Dark? You asked to see me?"

"Ah, you're here." He shuffles the papers again, this time into a neat stack, acting as if everything is normal and you didn’t somehow borderline startle him. “I almost believed you wouldn’t show.”

You both know he said this on purpose; just another jab he can’t help but say. A deflection, now, habitual and not fully meant. You huff half-heartedly. “As if I wouldn’t. Can I come in?”

“Not quite yet.” He knows the anxiousness isn't evident (you’ve never seemed to notice before), but his reply is still rather quick. “We can have a discussion with you over there.”

You roll your eyes. Dark doesn't notice, too caught up in not looking at you. “Sure, real personal discussion. What even did you want to talk with me about?”

“You have been living here for quite some time now, and it looks like you will be here for quite some time longer.” His desk is tidied much too soon for his liking. “I take it everything is still satisfactory?”

“Well, yeah, I suppose so,” you reply, obviously confused. “Wilford is still…Wilford.”

“That he is. And that he will continue to be.” He’s forced to finally look up, and seeing you underneath the mistletoe is like something out of a dream: unreal. Too good to be true. Dark makes himself stand up, palms pressed firmly against the desk as if to steady himself. “If you have more trouble with him, or with anyone else, you know where to find me.”

“Oh, okay, thanks…?”

“I do think Wilford isn’t fully utilizing your talents, but he doesn’t always listen to me.” Dark finds his feet taking him forward, towards you.

“Really? You think so?” There’s a tinge of surprise in your voice, but it’s a good surprise. You didn’t think he would notice, he suspects.

“Yes. And with the days you spend in my office, we could figure out some way to harness and hone them. Maybe then, he’ll listen.”

“I mean, is it really a good idea to get in his way?”

The corner of Dark’s mouth twitches as he stops in front of you. You’re so…short, compared to him. “Well, of all people, I would be the best candidate.”

Amusement flickers into your eyes, and it makes you look that much lovelier. “I suppose you’re right. But still…”

“My dear, I think you should…aim higher. Look higher.” When you just blink at him, not picking up on his odd hint, he points upwards, towards the lintel. Your brows twitch in confusion, but you follow where he points. Your eyes catch the sprig of mistletoe, and he watches your expression as the gears turn in your mind, everything clicking into place. You look back at him in disbelief, and whether you’re aware of it or not, your cheeks are tinged with the beginnings of a blush. It makes him want to do this even more. Still, the words are not easy to say, tongue heavy in his mouth. “May I?”

You nod almost dumbly after a moment, and he brings his hand up to cup your face. It is of immense relief that you don’t recoil. If his heart still worked, it would be beating out of his chest. As it is, he can hear yours doing exactly that. It picks up as he closes the gap between you.

Dark brushes his lips against yours, the barest of touches, almost as if he's asking for permission again. When you don't pull away, he kisses you properly, surprisingly soft and chaste. (You didn't think he had it in him.) It’s over far too soon, and when he pulls back, your eyes flutter open to find him studying you. The moment is delicate, just the sound of your breathing as his eyes search yours and time seems to stretch into infinity. 

All you do is lean forward a little, and you seem to fall into each other, his lips meeting yours again, this time with a bit of urgency. You, instead of retreating, accept it, pressing towards him and tentatively lifting your own hand to his cheek. The reassurance flooding Dark is immediate, prompting him to bring your body closer to him. You inhale sharply in surprise, but again don’t move away, relaxing in his embrace. 

Despite the kissing lasting longer than expected, you removing your lips from his still happens much too quickly. Your face is fully flushed, now; he wonders if his cheeks convey the same.

Your voice is soft; one might call it breathless. “You had the discussion…just for that?”

“Well, I had to get you here somehow.” There’s a ghost of a toothy grin for a moment, before his face softens—actually softens, if but a little. “And I meant everything I said.”

Your eyes dart away, sheepish. “Oh…thanks…”

“How do you feel about dinner?”

Those were not words Dark expected out of his mouth, and nor did you, by the way your head whips back up toward him. “Dinner? We eat dinner at the manor all the time.”

“You know what I meant.” A genuine, small smile graces his face. “Just you and me.”

“Y-yeah.” You bite at your lip; he hears your heart rate jump up again. “That sounds…great. When?”

“Tonight, as long as everything goes according to plan.”

You give a small nod, then nod again, more definitively. “Yeah. Sounds good to me.”

“Splendid.” Dark kisses your forehead, then releases you. His arms already feel empty without you there. “I will come get you when everything is ready. I’ll see you later, darling.”

Darling. Something else that just slipped out. But it feels…right, to borrow that from the past. And, with the way you look at him after it, eyes shining with something he cannot yet fully place, perhaps he will keep calling you “darling.” And, maybe soon, his darling.

[jacksepticeye-simp]

Welcome Home (Darkiplier x reader) Part 4- A moment too late

“It’s uh, wonderful to meet you too Damien.” You said, smiling back. Wow, was he gorgeous... You could go on for eternity about how perfect he was. “So tell me, does somebody as enchanting as you have a partner, perhaps a boyfriend or girlfriend?” He asked, inching just a tad closer to you. “Oh no, I haven’t been in a relationship in a while.” You answered, staring into his eyes. They were a sharp icy blue with an abnormal soft glow to them. 

It was almost hypnotic. “Well if you’re available, perhaps we could go to dinner this evening? My treat of course.” He offered, taking your hands in his. It made you shiver. Why were they so frigid? Your mind told you to decline, to pull your hands away and just run. Yet your heart said otherwise, everything about his eyes, his smile, his..face. It was all so beautiful, so alluring, so secure, so..familiar. It was practically impossible for you to decline.

 You were hanging onto his every word. “I’d love to go out with you, Damien." You answered, smiling at him. You exchanged numbers and parted ways for the time being, but you just couldn’t wait to see him again. 

You entered the manor giggling while texting on your phone. Your joy faded when you were met with Mark looking at you. His face was a mix of concern and disappointment. “Where have you been for the past half an hour? You said you were going to help out but you just disappeared. Plus you’ve been acting weird since you got here and avoiding me.” You frowned. “Is it your business?” You questioned, glaring at him. “..What? I guess not but it’d be nice to know at least. Look, whatever's going on, you can tell me. We’re still friends.” Mark said, his tone becoming reassuring. 

“Oh please, don’t act like you still care, Mr. big-shot YouTube star.” Mark's eyes widened a bit. “Is that what this is about? You’re being dramatic." You shoved him aside. “I don’t wanna hear it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a date to get to.” You said, looking at your phone again as you started walking past him. 

Mark took a glance at the profile picture of whoever you were texting. His face paled. “Look, I’m sorry if I made you feel left out or anything of the sort. But I don’t think you should go on that date." You ignored him and just continued walking upstairs.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mark stood nervously, thinking about what he should do. There was no way he’d found his way back again, right? He put his hands into his pocket and his expression paled. Everything in there was gone, except his phone. 

But how the hell- the apprentice.

[seaofghouls]

Iplier Falls

Authors Note: 

Hello hello and welcome back! ( Or if you’re here for the first time, I’m glad you chose to check this fic out! Welcome! ) Never thought you’d see a rewrite of Gravity Falls x Iplier Inc in 2024, huh? The ALTRVerse comic has given me the motivation to get back into Markiplier Lore and hence I’m here!

This is the prologue and hence it's just a test to see how people react to it. If people react well, I'll put the story up on AO3 and make more chapters!

Some things to note about this fic: 

It’s an X Reader and the reader is indeed the District Attorney from Who Killed Markiplier! ( So, obviously, WKM spoilers ahead! ) 

This is a Dark x Reader specifically. 

This fic is in the second person and the reader is gender neutral! 

Genderfluid Dark is canon in this fic, so I’ll be using He/She/They for Dark. 

In Space With Markiplier will also be incorporated, so spoilers for that as well. 

This story will follow the Gravity Falls story, but there’ll be added story for episodes revolving around the Pines family specifically. 

This story contains things like profanity, blood, near death experiences, talk of mortality/death, and angst! 

Tag List: @a-frozen-bag-of-corn @crazy-obsessed-enby @lunariasilver ( Not sure if any of you remember this series, but I figured I’d keep up the tag list! ) 

Without further adieu, I hope you enjoy it! 

—-------------------------------------------------------

“What has he done to you?” 

They looked so familiar. Like a far away dream. 

“Captain, you can’t possibly listen to this monster! You can’t trust him!” Mark yelled.

“My little monster, I beg of you. Open your eyes. He takes away all that you love.” She begged. 

That name.. It was like a puzzle piece. Everything snapped back into place in an instant. You weren’t a captain! You went to school for law, not to be the captain of a spaceship. 

“.. Damien?” You whispered. 

“Ugh, you’re just impossible!” Mark snapped, “How am I supposed to make the perfect story if all you do is mess it up!” 

You couldn’t help but tense up at the sudden change in tone. That was right, this wasn’t your trusted second in command. This was a man long gone, a man permanently warped by the manor. 

He twirled his cane in a clean and swift motion, aiming it towards you. 

“I’ll just have to make sure you don’t remember any of this.” He threatened. 

Dark intercepted Mark’s attempt with his sword, pushing Mark back a few feet. 

“Not on my watch. Never again.” 

Mark simply laughed, “The hero always wins. It’s the only way the story can go.” 

Dark simply grit their teeth in response, slashing the sword against Mark’s chest. Although it barely grazed, it was enough to catch him off guard. 

You watched as the two went head to head, being able to do nothing to stop either side. Even if you were willing to get in the way of the two, you had no weapon or no powers to do anything. 

Actor sputtered as Dark tore open a gash across his chest. His blood was red, but not the usual type of red. Bright red, instead of crimson. Actor was caught off guard for just a second until he scrambled back, unsheathing his cane. 

You’re sorry. Unsheathing his cane? That was insane! What was even more insane was the fact that the bottom of the cane was a dark red double sided axe. Dark seemed just as caught off guard as you were, as Mark obtained a window to slash her in the chest.

“Dark!” You called out. 

He only spared a moment to look your way, with a look in their eyes signaling that they were alright before attacking Mark once again. SImilar to Mark, her blood was an inky black. Something inspired Dark to go full force, you weren’t sure if it was you or the entire revenge pledge. 

He pierced Mark in the heart with their sword as Mark sputtered, that sickly red spilling out of his chest. He didn’t say anything after that, only heavy and labored breathing being heard from the previously lively body. 

“We best be going. The Snake never stays dead for long.” Dark said. 

You didn’t say anything as she opened a portal similar to the ones you’d seen as the captain of The Invincible. Except, it looked a bit like the Noir universe. A combination of black, white, and grey. You simply followed him inside the portal. What other choice did you have? Stay in this void until Mark’s body inevitably rose from the dead? The old Homo Necrosis didn’t sound like a fun route to go down. 

Which led you to where you are now. A sleepy town named Gravity Falls. Dark had said that the laws of the town would cover up the tracks of you two, making it harder for Mark to find you again. You still had quite a few strong words for Dark, considering he trapped you in a mirror for decades, but that was the thing. It had been decades. You didn’t know what else to do other than follow them. Mark was obviously a no-go. 

“Please, call me Dark.” He had said, “Damien and Celine are both.. Long dead. I have an apartment set up in the town, we can stay there until we know how to deal with The Snake properly.” 

“Okay.” You said, “In that case, call me Captain. The person I used to be died in that house.”

She simply nodded, “As you wish.” 

The two of you had been wandering around the town when you spotted a hiring sign for a tourist attraction. 

“We could work here.” You said, “We need some way of paying rent, right?” 

Dark hummed in thought, “It couldn’t hurt, I suppose.” 

You strolled into the attraction with Dark following close behind. You spotted an older man shuffling money while standing at the cash register. He was probably the owner, right?

“Excuse me, are you the owner?” You asked. 

He nodded, “What’s it to ya? You’re not the government, are you?” 

“No, no, nothing like that.” You said. A little like that, but you weren’t going to tell him that.

“My friend and I heard you were hiring.” 

“Great! You’re hired. Call me Mr. Pines.” He said, “You start tomorrow.”

“We’ll be there!” You smiled, as you walked back outside to talk to Dark in semi private. 

“Have you learned nothing from your district attorney days?” He teased, “Truly, though, that man was a bit too eager.” 

“Hey, it’s a job, isn’t it?” You shrugged, “Times have changed.”

“That they have.” She nodded, “Would you like to get some champagne? As a little celebration.”

“Really? Just like we used to? Even after everything that’s happened?” You raised an eyebrow. 

“Especially after everything that’s happened.” Dark said. 

You simply smiled in response as the two of you walked down the road to a nearby bar. You weren’t sure if he had said anything else to you, you were too consumed in your own thoughts. This seemed too easy, after everything that had happened. 

You were a district attorney. One that got shot at a party held by Mark himself. You didn’t blame William. Mark set everything up. A bitter man who fell victim to insanity. You had considered resenting Dark for what they did, but at the same time.. 

You knew deep down that this was a best scenario, as shitty as it was. You wouldn’t have survived. Of course Damien would pick his sister over you, even if you were close. You would’ve done the same. You did die, after all. Your time was up. 

Mark just couldn’t let you stay dead, could he? Pulling you into his games, forcing you to be his partner, his love interest. That was the thing. Dark had tried to reach you so many times, but you never remembered. Until now. What was different? Was the space adventure a finale of sorts? Was Mark’s grasp on you finally slipping? You didn’t know. 

“... Captain..”

“Captain.”

“Captain!”

You snapped back into reality, as Dark held you by the shoulders, attempting to ground you.

“Are you alright?” She asked, eyebrows knitted together.

“Yeah.. Yeah, I’m okay.” You sighed, “Just.. thinking.”

“Yeah? About what?” They raised an eyebrow. 

“He.. He really did take away everything from us. What’s the point of it all?” You asked.

He didn’t respond at first, hugging you tightly. 

“Making sure that bastard stays dead.”

[mane--attraction]

"You can run, but you can't hide. Not from me; never from me... But of course you know that, Kitten. You know that all. Too. Well. Yet you still insist on trying and testing how long you can last... Luckily, conquering you is no less sweet. Good luck, Pet. You're going to need it."

[lotusconstellation]

Introduction

———————————————————

Greetings and salutations everyone! My name is Lotus, my pronouns are They/He.

I am a multi-fandom writer, I haven’t posted anything but I do write a lot in my spare time and I would be happy if you guys sent in suggestions or request on what I should write.

For now, the fandom’s I will write for is

-Lego Monkie Kid (LMK)

-The Stanley Parable

-The Monkey King: Reborn

-New Gods: Ne Zha Reborn

-Markiplier egos

-Septiceye egos

-Stardew Valley

(Will add more in future)

I do have to warn you: !!Updates will be slow!!

I struggle with motivation a lot, and I also overthink a lot when I write so please, be patient with me.

I have a few important things to say before I move onto what I will and will not write:

This is a gender-neutral blog. All readers will be classified as gender-neutral or if you are transgender. If you want something specific, then you will have to DM me.

I also write for myself, writing my comfort characters x my persona and will probably post some of my work on here. I am not entirely comfortable with writing others personas or OC’s just yet but I am not opposed to doing so, if you would like me to write any OC’s, self inserts, or persona’s, please DM me and we’ll discuss it!!

This applies to my do's and don'ts, but this is very important for everyone to hear. Do not request anything that goes against the creators wishes, especially if you know that your request is going to be against their boundaries. If you do so, I'm going to say no. We need to respect everyone's boundaries, including the creators! They have every right to have a set of boundaries and should be respected.

What I will write:

-Fluff

-Implied Suggestive content (depending on the fandom I am writing for)

-Yandere Content

-X reader

-Headcanons

-Oneshots

What I will NOT write:

-Incest

-P*dophilia

-Character x Character

-Any serious topics such as sexual harassment, r@pe, self harm (this one might have an exception), etc

-Smut

One more important thing. PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK AND CREDIT ME IF YOU DECIDE TO SHARE MY WORK

That’s all, have a good Day/Afternoon/Night! Hope to write for you soon! 💜💜💛💛

[leighsartworks216]

Darkiplier X Reader who is having a panic attack so he calms them down and then gives them cuddles 🥺

Okay I'm doing hcs so I can get back into the swing of writing for mark egos just bear with me

Masterlist

Tag List Form

okay so like

he has no idea what's actually going on at first

he understands sorta???

like he sees you and he's like oh that's not normal huh

and then Damien and Celine start freaking out and he's like OH

if you're in a busy area (like, say, one of Wilf's many parties), he'll teleport you away to somewhere quiet and familiar

most likely his office

he forces his aura to spread out farther if you need it too like

if the color and sound is all too much then worry no longer bc hey it's all monochrome and silent

he'd also force the ringing that surrounds him to become internal even if it gives him a headache bc he knows it puts other people off

wouldn't touch you unless you asked (through gesture or otherwise)

if he can touch you, he'll hold your hand and give it gentle, intermittent squeezes to give you something to focus on

assures you by telling you that whatever you're panicking about he can fix or take care of

would 100% materialize some water out of thin air for you to drink

maybe some ice for you to cronch on

(dr. iplier told him it helped once)

once you've calmed down a little, he asks what you want to do next

but like,, little decisions

like, would you like to continue sitting on the floor or would you like to move to the couch?

do you want a blanket?

would you like music or not?

that sort of stuff

he'll do anything you ask fr

so if you want to cuddle, he's 100% down to clown

he'll hold you to his chest on the couch so you can hear a fake heartbeat he makes just for you

(he says you're the only one it beats for <333)

he'll stroke your hair and breathe deep and slow for you to follow along

anything you need

because, even if he has a hard time admitting it, he does care quite fondly for you, and he would do anything to make you feel better

---

Tag List:

@writeawaythepain

[mothgodofchaos]

If you're familiar with Darks whole power of seduction maybe do a thing w a gender neutral reader where he recognizes them as the reincarnation of the DA that he fell in love with but the reader tries to reject him at first so he uses that on em? Its ok if not have a wonderful day/night

Memory

I'm not terribly familiar with the concept as it may be more accepted in the fandom, but I do have my own personal twist that I can share.

Darkiplier x GN!Reader, TW: hypnotism, manipulation, angst Words: 592

“My love…”

A memory pangs in the back of your brain, fleshing itself out as you turn around to meet his gaze. Melancholy and longing tug at his heart, looking at the one he thought he lost all those years ago. The one mistake he thought he could never go back and fix. Your face twists into disgust and horror as you gaze up at Dark’s face, a sneer crossing your lips as you begin to back away from him.

“Traitor. Killer. Bastard.”

“Darling, don’t say tha-”

“You left me in a mirror! For a century! You. do not. get to tell me what I can and cannot say.”

Anger bubbles inside you, outbursting at him as he tries to placate you. Memories and flashbacks that you have never experienced come flooding back, you remember everything. Your screams of agony at him, at the pain he has caused you, don’t begin to even scratch the surface of every bit of turmoil there is churning inside of you. Something inside you snaps, and instead of backing away, you begin getting in his face. An accusing finger jabbed into his cheek, forcing him back as his personal space becomes nonexistent. 

“You just expect to see me again after this long and expect me to be happy to see you? Are you out of your fucking mind!? Or have you been that way since you decided that I needed to go away in the fucking glass forever box? If you truly ever loved me, you would go back and undo all the damage you did to me!”

Something clicks in Dark’s head, and his eyes fill up with void. His hand tightly grips your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Alright, if that’s what you want… what else do you want, my love?”

Your tears stop as you look up at him, breathing heavy and with all the trauma trying to spill out of you. His grip softens as you pacify, crouching a bit lower so you can look at him better. It all feels as if it’s slipping away, recognizing him as the man you loved all those years ago again. The mirror never happened, you’re safe with him here. You wrap your arms around his chest as a smile slowly starts to appear on your lips. 

“There’s the one I love, my sweet angel mine.”

A pain in his chest stops him from fully enjoying the moment, guilt eating him up inside as he hides those painful memories back in the recesses of your mind, pulling the ones of soft love and belonging back to the surface. Satiating the demon inside him, feeding off your negative emotions until they hurt no more. There was no mirror, you’re safe here in his arms. He floods you with false memories of a proposal on Mark’s balcony under the starlight and fireworks, working alongside each other in the offices, retiring up to his cabin for vacations and getaways. 

“Damien… don’t go please…”

That name hits him like a sack of bricks, one he has not heard uttered once since the day he lost you. A name he swore no one would ever be allowed to call him again. Damien was everything that he promised you, and everything that died the day he made that mistake. 

“I’m right here, darling. My love, my forever.”

A tear rolls down his cheek as you squeeze him tighter, praying to whatever higher power that brought you back into his life to let you stay happy again. Happy with him. 

[littleoddwriter]

Rules, Guidelines, etc.:

[Used to be: ronaldrx]

I'm a hobby writer and mostly write (x Reader) FanFictions and Headcanons. But I am also working on my original story whenever I can, so that I’ll hopefully publish it as an actual book someday. My Ao3.

Here’s a link to my Ko-Fi, in case you want to support me financially. It would mean a lot to me! (Obviously no obligation whatsoever! You never have to pay for anything on my blog, it’s merely an option for donations.)

Also, here are my sideblogs if you’re interested:

Dead Poets Society

Horror

Raúl Esparza

The Simpsons

Only ask for the characters I’ve got listed, please. I’ve written down all of the ones I actually write for, and the list is being updated regularly, as I often find new (actors, whose) characters I write for! (And yes, I always write for every character, so don’t ever worry if you wanna ask for one I haven’t written for in a long time, or ever, it’s fine!) Please always be patient with me. If I haven’t outright declined your request, it’s definitely in the works; even if it has been weeks or months since you’ve sent it in! And only send your requests via ASKs. No DMs or comments, please.

If you have a request, send an Ask to my inbox.

NO sexual NSFW requests, please (more details further down).

Requests = CLOSED (Max. Limit: 10)

Current number of requests: 10

Last updated: October 29, 2023

Masterlists are linked with fandoms/actors/characters below. I WRITE FOR:

ALFRED MOLINA characters:

Doctor Otto Octavius/Doctor Octopus

DAVID DASTMALCHIAN characters:

Abner Krill/Polka-Dot Man

Bob Taylor

Denham

James Lewis

Johnson

Kurt Goreshter

Lonny Crane

Murdoc

Philippe/Abra Kadabra

Simon Lynch

Thomas Schiff

ETHAN HAWKE characters:

Arthur Harrow

Ellison Oswalt

Goodnight Robicheaux

James Sandin

EWAN MCGREGOR characters:

Alex Law

Catcher Block

Christopher Robin

Curt Wild

Dan Torrance

John Bishop

Mark Renton

Obi-Wan Kenobi 

Roman Sionis/Black Mask* (Birds of Prey - Masc!Reader only) [Any other version of Roman Sionis/Black Mask can be with a Gender Neutral/Female!Reader.]

HUGH DANCY characters:

Adam Raki

Cal Roberts

Luke Brandon

Executive ADA Nolan Price

Will Graham

KARL URBAN characters:

Billy Butcher

Black Hat

John Kennex

Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy

Markiplier EGOS:

Darkiplier

Illinois

Wilford Warfstache

Yancy

PAUL DANO characters:

Alex Jones/Barry Milland [Platonic only!]

Dwayne Hoover [Platonic only!]

Edward Nashton/The Riddler

Eli Sunday

Jay (Okja)

Joby Taylor

Klitz

PEDRO PASCAL characters:

Agent Whiskey

Dave York

Dio Morrissey

Eddie

Ezra

Francisco “Catfish” Morales

Marcus Moreno

Marcus Pike

Max Phillips

Maxwell Lord

Oberyn Martell

Ricky Hauk

RAÚL ESPARZA characters:

Bobby

Dr. Frederick Chilton*

Jackson Neill

Jonas Nightingale

Rafael Barba

Characters from 9-1-1 (Lone Star):

Carlos Reyes*

Eddie Diaz

Evan “Buck” Buckley

Howard “Chimney” Han

Josh Russo*

Mateo Chavez

Paul Strickland

Bobby Nash

Tim Rosewater

TK Strand*

Characters from Law and Order(: Special Victims Unit):

Detective/ADA Dominick “Sonny” Carisi, Jr.

Sergeant Mike Dodds

Detective Nick Amaro

Executive ADA Nolan Price

ADA Peter Stone

ADA Rafael Barba

Deputy Chief William Dodds

Little Miss Sunshine:

Dwayne Hoover [Platonic only!]

Frank*

Our Flag Means Death:

Edward Teach/Blackbeard*

Frenchie

Izzy Hands

Stede Bonnet*

Prisoners (2013):

Alex Jones/Barry Milland [Platonic only!]

Bob Taylor

Detective David Loki

Renfield (2023):

Count Dracula

Robert Montague Renfield

Tedward “Teddy” Lobo

SLASHERS/Horror Film Characters:

Asa Emory/The Collector

Ash J. Williams [I will usually default to Ash from the TV show, unless requested otherwise!]

Billy Lenz (1974)

Billy Loomis

Bo Sinclair

Brahms Heelshire

Bubba Sawyer/Leatherface (TCM 1974 and TCM 2)

Charles Lee Ray/Chucky

Chop Top Sawyer

Corey Cunningham

Dewey Riley

Drayton Sawyer

Herbert West*

Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull

Lawrence Gordon

Lester Sinclair

Luigi Largo

Mark Hoffman  

Nubbins Sawyer

Pavi Largo

Stu Macher  

Vincent Sinclair

William Easton

Star Wars:

Anakin Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Qui-Gon Jinn

The Girl Next Door:

Klitz

Eli

Characters from The Simpsons:

Cecil Terwilliger*

Fat Tony

Frankie the Squealer

Grady*

Jack Lassen

Johnny Tightlips

Julio*

Legs

Louie

Moe Szyslak

Ned Flanders

Otto Mann

Seymour Skinner

Sideshow Bob

Sideshow Mel

Snake Jailbird

Timothy Lovejoy

Waylon Smithers*

What We Do in the Shadows:

Anton (Movie)

Deacon

Guillermo de la Cruz*

Laszlo Cravensworth

Nandor the Relentless

Viago

Vladislav

* Please note that an asterisk (*) means that these characters are Male/Masc/GenderNeutral!Reader only (including non-binary, of course). Platonic relationships with Female!Reader are possible, but no romantic ones.

If it’s a character that is open to all Readers, and you do not specify in your request what you want, I’ll usually opt for a Gender Neutral Reader by default.

SHIPS, such as:

BlackBonnet (OFMD)

SteddyHands (OFMD)

Black Pete x Lucius Spriggs (OFMD)

Buck x Josh Russo (9-1-1)

Dracfield (Renfield 2023)

Buddie (9-1-1)

Eli x Klitz (The Girl Next Door)

Nandermo (WWDITS)

Herbert West x Dan Cain (Re-Animator)

McKirk (Star Trek: AOS)

Oluwande x Jim Jimenez (OFMD)

Barisi (Law & Order SVU) 

Renfield x Teddy Lobo (Renfield 2023)

Sickrent (Trainspotting/T2)

Stobotnik (Sonic Movie)

Tarlos (9-1-1: Lone Star)

AnderPerry (Dead Poets Society)

ZsaszMask (Birds of Prey)

Lastly, I would like to add things I will NOT write (about):

Sexual NSFW fics/headcanons (I used to write those as you can see in my Masterlists, but I have my reasons for not writing them anymore. Any hints at sexual topics are fine).

Anything related to death as the main subject (this includes deadly diseases, anything fatal, really, etc.).

Anything that romanticizes Mental Illness (my Vent Fics about my own disorders obviously do not romanticize any of it and I do not stand for that).

(Recreational) Drug Use

Extreme Possessive Behaviour and/or Jealousy

Yandere

If you have something you would like me to write for, but you do not see it listed anywhere, please ask me before requesting it, so we can talk about it. I hope you enjoy yourself on my blog and have a good time!

My Asks and DMs are always open for any questions or simply to talk!

- Jesse

[yuckie-obsessive]

For the Best Ending

I had some inspiration from a fic I reblogged and I wanna give sortof a short conclusion to “Just the Start”.

Set up: after many losing so many well fought battles, Dark finally manages to rip you out of Mark’s hold. He whisks you away, back into the mirror of the reclaimed manor. What used to be your prison was now your home.

Tw: manipulation, mind control, mentions of trauma, anxiety, episodes, forced isolation

Darkiplier x Reader (gender neutral)

~★~

Words: 487

Life was finally calm. Fighting for so many years has left him tired and anxious. Some part in the back of Dark’s mind was always waiting for another struggle.

But he’s won the war.

Taking the manor as his own-

And taking you away from everything else.

The home was the mirror reflection of the outside world. Precisely built to allow no room for an escape- and for that matter, no entrance for anything that could threaten the peace.

Though he could never quite figure out how to keep Wilford from occasionally appearing, much to Dark’s chagrin. It was a rarity that you two interacted so it wasn’t too much of a bother. Though, there were those odd instances where he would let a reminder slip off his tongue. A stressor on Dark’s already heavy shoulders. To which Wilford was swiftly removed after.

It was surely too painful.

To be reminded of the nightmares that occurred before you returned to the mirror.

He memorized the signs.

It started with headaches, leading into hours of pain and disorientation before all culminating in an agonizing trauma induced episode. He couldn’t stand seeing you go through this.

Currently the both of you were relaxing in a peaceful silence. Resting in the library, immersed in your respective novels.

You started straining and groaned, another headache.

Dark was quick to his feet and took long strides to arrive at your side.

“What’s the matter darling?” He placed a hand to the side of your face, thumb already at your temple.

You grumbled again and muttered, “Just another headache Dark, I’ll be fine.”

He let a small sigh escape him.

“I know, I know you will be…” his thumb dancing in small, concentrated circles. Watching you fade quickly under his familiar influence, “I’ll make sure of it.”

He let your body relax completely, falling into a deep slumber, then carrying you to the love-seat. Placing you in a position to have your head in his lap, he gently stroked your hair and let his fingers brush along the frame of your face.

If this is what must be done to ensure you remained content in a peaceful existence, he would continue this practice until the end of time.

Once again he pushed back those problematic, painful memories that consistently bubble to the surface.

You wouldn’t remember that snake, the fear, the hate… the betrayal.

He might shatter if you looked at him with that broken expression again. He fully regretted his actions, those fueled by emotions he couldn’t control at the time.

He’s stronger now.

Strong enough to become your rock, your sword and shield.

He did this for you to make up for the hurt he caused. To protect you from the loss.

You deserved a happy ending.

He felt honored to help you achieve it and reveled in the chance to be included.

“I hope you can understand why I’m doing this for you…” he took in the minute movements in your expression as you dreamt. “Sweet dreams (y/n). I’ll be right here when you wake.”

[echo-writes-things]

I thought I’d make a rules for my requests so I can get those up and going!

Master List

Fandoms I write for:

Helluva boss

Hazbin Hotel

Star Wars

Marvel

The Arcana

Five Nights At Freddy’s

Spooky Month

Criminal Minds

Demon Slayer

Haikyuu!!

Fairy Tail

Bendy And The Ink Machine

Beastars

BNA

Harry Potter

Pokémon

Burnt

Stranger Things

MHA

What We Do In The Shadows

UnderTale/Deltarune

Good Omens

Arcane

Fantasy/DnD/monsters

Obey Me

Creepy pasta

Backrooms

YouTuber alternate egos (ex: Darkiplier)

Disney

Slasher movies

Jujutsu kaisen

Saw

the Collector, The Collection

COD

Things I will not write for:

South Park

My little pony

Lore Olympus

Dream SMP

Real life traumatic historical events (ex: twin towers)

I will write:

Horror

Gore

Death

Angst

Fluff

Platonic

Romance

Poly relationships

Canon x reader

Canon x canon

Gender bends

Alternate Universes and tropes/cliches

Mafia

If you want your OC to be apart of a horror fic I take requests for those. But my x canon is strictly for readers. There’s not enough gn and male readers on here to take away from that man

What I won’t write:

Smut

Female readers (read that again. I DON’T DO FEMALE READER REQUESTS. Please do not ask for it.)*

Child x child

Child x adult

Sexual assault

Really huge age gaps

God x mortal (idk it just icks me. Demon x mortal is fine)

Real life serial killers (I won’t do Netflix versions either. No Dahmer no Bundy.)

Pervertedness

No tentacle monster. I know I said monsters in I will but this is one I will never write for (Cthulhu monsters are different. I’m talking about that weird slime shit)

Real life people as ships (so no Markiplier x jacksepticeye and stuff)

I don’t do platonic parent x child reader. I’ll do parent and child canon relationships but not readers

* I will write for female characters but not female readers. It’s for a few personal reasons why I do this but my main one is there’s not enough gender neutral and male x readers on here

I write both headcanons and fanfics. Some stories may get turned into series but not all of them sorry guys. If you don’t specify if you want headcanon or fanfic I’ll decide myself. Please specify if you want male or gender neutral reader. No female readers. If anything is not on this list that you wanna try and request go for it! This list will be updated when more stuff comes up and there’s no harm in trying to ask for stuff if you don’t see it here! If you consistently break my rules I’ll block you.

[jacksepticeye-simp]

If you do poly stuff, maybe a cute date between Dark, Anti, and the reader? If not, just a date with one or the other is great. Enjoy your stuff. :)

Date night (Darkiplier x Reader x Antisepticeye)

(I'm so sorry this took so long I've been busy, I tried my best and I hope you like it!)

"̷I̷'̷m̷ ̷n̷̷o̷̷t̷ ̷g̷̷o̷̷n̷̷n̷a̷ ̷f̷̷o̷̷c̷̷k̷̷i̷̷n̷' ̷g̷̷e̷̷t̷ ̷d̷̷r̷̷e̷̷s̷̷s̷̷e̷̷d̷ ̷i̷̷n̷ ̷s̷̷o̷̷m̷̷e̷ ̷s̷̷t̷̷u̷̷f̷̷f̷̷y̷ ̷s̷̷u̷̷i̷̷t̷ ̷j̷̷u̷̷s̷̷t̷ ̷t̷̷o̷ ̷b̷̷e̷ ̷s̷̷i̷̷t̷ ̷i̷̷n̷ a̷̷n̷ ̷u̷̷n̷̷c̷̷o̷̷m̷̷f̷̷o̷̷r̷̷t̷a̷̷b̷̷l̷̷e̷ ̷f̷a̷̷n̷̷c̷̷y̷ ̷f̷̷o̷̷c̷̷k̷̷i̷̷n̷' ̷p̷̷l̷a̷̷c̷̷e̷ ̷f̷̷o̷̷r̷ ̷w̷̷h̷̷o̷ ̷k̷̷n̷̷o̷̷w̷̷s̷ ̷h̷̷o̷̷w̷ ̷l̷̷o̷̷n̷̷g̷, ̷P̷̷l̷̷u̷̷s̷ ̷y̷̷o̷̷u̷ ̷k̷̷n̷̷o̷̷w̷ ̷h̷̷o̷̷w̷ ̷t̷̷h̷̷o̷̷s̷̷e̷ ̷s̷̷t̷̷u̷̷p̷̷i̷̷d̷ ̷d̷̷r̷̷e̷̷s̷̷s̷ ̷c̷̷o̷̷l̷̷l̷a̷̷r̷̷s̷ ̷c̷̷h̷a̷̷f̷̷e̷ a̷̷t̷ ̷m̷̷y̷ ̷n̷̷e̷̷c̷̷k̷! ̷W̷̷h̷̷y̷ ̷c̷a̷̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷w̷̷e̷ ̷d̷̷o̷ ̷s̷̷o̷̷m̷̷e̷̷t̷̷h̷̷i̷̷n̷' ̷s̷̷i̷̷m̷̷p̷̷l̷̷e̷?" Anti asked, glitching aggressively. Dark merely rolled his eyes at the glitch demon. "Because date night should be classy, it's special. It isn't some casual every other day type of evening. The perfect date night is a formal dinner at a refined restaurant." The monochrome demon stated, fixing the lapels of his suit. "But I wouldn't expect an imbecile such as yourself to understand what class is.

""̷O̷̷H̷ ̷I̷'̷L̷̷L̷ ̷S̷̷H̷̷O̷̷W̷ ̷Y̷̷A̷ ̷W̷̷H̷̷O̷̷S̷ ̷I̷̷M̷̷B̷̷E̷̷C̷̷I̷̷L̷̷E̷ ̷Y̷̷O̷̷U̷ ̷F̷̷O̷̷C̷̷K̷̷I̷̷N̷' ̷E̷̷D̷̷G̷̷E̷̷L̷̷O̷̷R̷̷D̷!" Anti lunged at Dark as you sighed, looking up from your phone.

"Why don't we watch a movie?" You suggested. Your boyfriends turned their gaze to you. "..Can it be horror?" Anti asked, slowly taking his knife away from Darks neck. "I suppose I can settle for a film." Dark said, appearing on the couch beside you. "̷I̷'̷M̷ ̷P̷̷I̷̷C̷̷K̷̷I̷̷N̷'!!" Anti glitched to the other side of the couch, grabbing the remote from the table. He scrolled through multiple movies before eagerly settling on Terrifer 2.

"Could we pick something with less..bloody?" You suggested, Anti didn't seem to care since he played the movie anyways. You had quite a few moments gripping onto the arms of whichever one of them was closest to you, which they went positively crazy over. You leaned backwards, smiling at your boyfriends. You'd enjoyed the movie much more than you anticipated. Nothing could be a more perfect way to end the night.

(I hope you enjoyed this, I tried my best)

[orange-waterfalls]

This Is Love

Darkiplier x gn!reader

A/N: OH BOY it’s been a while, kids! God! I’ll be honest, only wrote this because I couldn’t focus on any of my other writing projects so I just. Darkiplier! Angst! Fluff! You know how it is. I listened to this song on repeat and thought about Dark and next thing I knew I wrote this. Some blood, just a nosebleed. It’s an accident. It’s fine. Well, it’s not fine but ya work through it. 

Not beta read. I didn’t even go through and make sure it was linear or made sense. Enjoy lmao. And Happy Pride, everyone.

word count: 2.0k 

“Where the FUCK is my GODDAMN CANE?!” You flinched as Darkiplier’s voice rang out through the mansion. You didn’t know where the cane was, but you wish you did, if only to get the entity to calm down. He’d been especially irritated recently, and you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was the date with Mark. Maybe it was how nobody was listening to him. Maybe it was Wilford. Just Wilford being himself.

You didn’t know. You didn’t care all that much, and decided not talking to him would be the best move. In case you said something stupid to piss him off more. Which you often did on purpose because you knew he’d never do anything about ir. You did text Bing, asking if he knew where the cane was. If anyone was dumb enough to take it, it’d be him. Or Wilford, of course.

“Jesus Lord, that man is angry,” Mr. Iplier wheezed nervously. He walked up to the chair you were sitting in and rested his arm on the back, leaning on it.

“Yeah… know why?” You asked.

“I mean, he’s just been annoyed by everything. I don’t think I’m annoying. I think I’m perfect,” You rolled your eyes at him, “but maybe he just needs to de-stress somehow.”

“Somehow,” You repeated.

“You know, spa day, exercise, read a goddamn book, something,” He tapped his fingers on the chair for a moment, “You could help.”

“Pardon?” You looked up at him.

“You’re not that bad, at least not in his eyes.” Mark explained.

“Wow. ‘Not that bad’. Greatest compliment I’ve ever gotten. Thank you.” You deadpanned.

“Don’t you sass me. Sassing is Mark Iplier’s job.” He pointed a finger in your face. You acted as though you were going to bite it and he pulled it back with a smirk. “Could you try? At least a little?”

“Uggggghhhhhhh, fiiiiiiiine.”

“Try not to get killed?”

“I make no promises I can’t keep.”

“Alright… Thank you, you’re the best!” He ruffled your hair a little and walked away.

“Better than you at least!”

“Don’t push it!” You smiled and jumped when you heard another yell from Dark. You groaned and stood up, making your way to Dark’s office.

You walked into the room and were immediately greeted by a wine glass being thrown directly next to your head. You looked at it without emotion, watching the wine trail down the wall. You looked at Dark with an eyebrow raised, static starting to fill your ears. He was breathing heavily, his hair was a goddamn mess, and his suit was torn at the shoulder. 

“Wow, nice welcoming committee.” You scoffed.

“Shut. Up,” He growled. You slammed the door behind you, making him startle a bit. You smiled.

“Why don’t you make me?” You blinked innocently. He stalked over and stared at you. 

He had that look that he got whenever he tried to intimidate you or anyone else. It worked the first few times, but you’ve since realized that, when it comes to you, he’s all bark and no bite. So, you just smiled at him. His scowl faded a little.

“... go away,” He took a few steps back and turned away from you. You hummed, pretending to think about it.

“No,” You said.

“I could kill you,” He warned.

“Do it then, pussy,” You mocked. He took a deep, calming breath.

“Leave,” He demanded.

“Found your cane yet?” You asked. He seemed confused for a moment, his controlled facade failing for half a second. It was long enough that you noticed it.

“No,” He hesitated to answer.

“Then, no. I won’t,” You walked further into the room, stepping over broken wood and glass, and sitting in a love seat in front of the fireplace. 

When he approached, you settled down into it to show him you weren’t leaving. He sighed, understanding the message. He stared at you, and you stared back defiantly. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and put a hand on his hip. You waited to see what he would do. Eventually, he walked into the corner and grabbed the broom. You grinned smugly as the great Darkiplier began to clean up his mess of wood, glass, wine, and ash.

“Move your feet.” He instructed, poking your foot with the broom so you’d move them. You stared at him. He gave you another look, this time a warning-mother sort of look, so you pouted and lifted your feet.

“You’re gonna have to vacuum this rug.” You informed him as he picked up the bigger shards of glass.

“Yeah, I know.” He sighed.

“You wouldn’t have to if you’d just… like, chill.” You looked at him as he stood back up.

“Wow. ‘Chill’. Never even thought of that.” He whacked your head with the business end of the broom and you held it.

“I’m serious, dude. Mark’s anger issues are objectively worse than yours but he doesn’t break shit.” You crossed your arms after rubbing the top of your head for a bit.

“Well, I’m not Mark, am I?” He gritted out.

“No, you’re not, because Mark isn’t such a petty little bitch.” You claimed. He slammed his hands on the arms of the chair and glared down at you. You curled in on yourself a little. Static filled your head, and it hurt, but you wouldn’t dare move to cover your ears.

OK, maybe you should stop with the teasing.

You blinked rapidly as you felt something dripping from your nose. He looked down for a moment. He let go of the chair and walked to the other side of the room. He continued to sweep. You wiped the water from your eyes (no, you were not CRYING, thank you very much) and felt under your nose. Pulling your hand back, you see the blood. You wince a little at it, and try to wipe it with the sleeves of your (technically Wil’s) jacket and accidentally let out a tiny, pathetic little noise of complaint when it wouldn’t stop. Dark sighed, his shoulders sagging from where he was kneeling on the ground. 

“There’s toilet paper in the bathroom. Just don’t get any blood on my chair.” He turned to look at you. You flicked your eyes from the velvet chair back up to Dark. His eyes widened and he stared. He pointed at you. “Don’t.”

You maintained eye contact as you wiped the sleeve on the chair. His eye twitched. You just smiled and stood up, walking towards the door.

“Thank you, Dark!” You said sweetly, leaving the room and shutting the door behind you. He stared at the closed door with a blank face. His mouth twitched into a smile after a little bit, and he chuckled quietly. He sat back on the rug, laughing to himself, thinking of you. He looked over at the chair you’d sat in, the blood on the arm and on the rug. He stopped smiling.

You groaned as you tipped your own head back after shoving toilet paper up the side that was bleeding. Your head was pounding a bit from the fucking noise Darkiplier was emitting from his body. You didn’t know he could do that. You didn’t think he knew he could do that. It hurt though. Not too much, but it did.

Granted, you maybe should’ve refrained from pushing the buttons of a demonic entity who was already pissed, but that was part of the fun. At least now you knew what was going too far. That was one good thing that came out of this situation.

You jumped when you heard a knock at the door.

“Occupied!” You yelled. They knocked again and you groaned. “Occupied!!!” Another hard knock and you stood up, throwing the toilet paper away, causing your nose to continue dripping.

“What the fuck do you-” You started. You stopped halfway through because of Darkiplier standing at the door. His hair was neat and his suit seemed to be fixed. You looked at him, brows furrowed. He quirked an eyebrow at you. “... may I help you?”

“Looks like you’re the one who needs help.” He starts to smirk as he talks. You frown and squint at him.

“I was doing fine until someone interrupted.” You wipe your nose with your hand, which does nothing except spread the blood across your face.

“Oh, and who was that?” He asks. You scoff and turn back to the stool you’d been sitting on. You plop yourself back down, put more toilet paper up your nose (to Dark’s disgust), pinch your nose and lean your head back. Dark frowns at you.

“What?” You ask with a nasally voice.

“You’re doing it wrong.” He says simply.

“Oh, am I?” You roll your eyes. He takes a few small steps forward. You glare at him, so he stops.

“You’re supposed to lean forward, not back.” He explains.

“I think I’d know how to--” You start. But he’s already right next to you, adjusting your position himself. He straightens your back, tilts your head forward a bit, and grabs more toilet paper to pinch your nose with. You do it, hesitantly.

“5 to 10 minutes.” He says and kneels on the floor next to you.

“How do you know?” You frown.

“I just do.” He shrugs.

“Hm.” You look away, suddenly realizing how close he was and getting a little uncomfortable. “Was it Dr. Ip-”

“I’m sorry for this.” He said at the same time. You stare at him. He stares back. You both look like you don’t want to have this conversation. Ever.

“... um.” Your voice wavered.

“I’m sorry for causing your nosebleed.” He repeats.

“It’s… fine-” You start to laugh nervously.

“It’s not. I should have better control.” He admits. You feel your ears get hot and you really, really don’t like this.

“You didn’t hurt me. Not really. It’s just a nosebleed.” You try. 

“But it could be something more than a nosebleed next time…” He counters.

“Then… we’ll deal with it.” You start to get frustrated with the apology.

“I don’t…” He starts to raise his voice. You go to cover your ears. He looks at you like a kicked puppy and you immediately lower your hand. “I don’t want to deal with it, I want to prevent it.” He looks down at the floor. You look away again.

“Then… chill.” You shrug. He blinks and looks back up at you.

“Chill?” He scoffs.

“Yeah. Massage, spa, read a book, listen to music, just… chill.” You suggest all the things Mark had said earlier.

“Hm.” He taps his knee with a finger. “Would you like to read… with me?”

“Ehhhh, I’m not really the reading type.” 

“We can listen to your music while I read, then.”

“I don’t think you’d like my music.”

“I doubt that somehow.”

“Fine, fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He chuckles softly at you. He stares at you while you try to avoid direct eye contact. More of your face starts to heat up. “WHAT.” You yell, making him jump.

“What?!” He asks.

“You’re staring at me!” You accuse.

“Nothing, no, I just…” He rubs the back of his neck, glancing at you.

“What?” You ask, getting anxious.

“... I... love you…” He grits out.

“AM I GONNA FUCKING DIE?!?” You shouted.

“CAN I NOT JUST EXPRESS MY AFFECTION FOR YOU THROUGH WORDS?” He barked.

“NO, YOU CAN’T, BECAUSE YOU DON’T.” You crossed your arms.

“Fine, I just won’t say it then.” He basically pouted and turned away from you.

“Say it again, I’ll be good this time!” You pleaded. He didn’t look at you. “Pwease? Pwease Dawk?” He turned back to you and sighed.

“... I love you.” He muttered.

“One more time for the road?” You gave him a cheeky grin.

“I. Love. You.” He said slowly and loudly.

“... love you too, Dark.” You removed the toilet paper from your face, since your nose had stopped bleeding. You tossed it in the trashcan and smiled at Dark.

He shifted forward a bit, putting a hand on the back of your head. He brought yours forward until your foreheads were touching. He closed his eyes and you both just stayed like that for a bit.

“So… This is love, I guess.” You said. He laughed.

“I guess.” He teased.

“Not perfect.” You took the hand that wasn’t holding your head.

“Not bad either.” He entwined both of your fingers.

“I love you.” You told him again.

“I love you.” He whispered.

--

“Ayo, Dark!”

“What?”

“Found your cane.”

“What? Where?!”

“Literally on the mantle.”

“God fucking dammit.”

“You’re a moron, Dark.”

“I know...”

[mane--attraction]

MINORS DNI

"Needy little cumslut.” Very wet sounds of skin on skin fill the room as Dark's hips snap against yours. "Can't get enough, hm?"

You can't speak, panting and moaning into the bed, the evidence of the last two rounds dripping down your trembling thighs.

"Isn't it lucky then—" He hisses, digging his fingers into your hips and slowing down as you tighten around him. "Isn't it lucky that I am more than willing and have more than enough to satisfy your craving."

His consistent throbbing is driving you mad, knowing that he is so close dragging you closer to yet another orgasm. Your fingers twist into the sheets, and you arch your back to better push back and meet his thrusts, encourage him faster again. You whine loudly, and eventually you form a word. "Please!"

Dark chuckles lasciviously. "Aw. What a polite little toy." Hands slide over your body. His haven't moved. "How could I possibly say no?"

You cry out loudly when he starts anew, more intense than before, eyes rolling as you're overwhelmed.

“Although…I could, when you sound so pretty begging for me…”

You hiccup at the thought, your mind almost fracturing from trying to keep focus. “PLEASE!”

His nearly sinister chuckle settles into your bones. “Is that too mean? Hm?” His hand just barely brushes over your sensitive skin, and you let out a pitchy, desperate keen, needing more from his touch. “Don’t worry, pet. I won’t deny you a single drop.”

[yeet-me-dad-dy]

Home in My Heart

Summary: Reader is anxious that Dark is going to leave them.

Warnings: None.

Characters: Darkiplier x Reader

Words: 1,059

Suggested by @moriimae​. I hope this is okay. I don’t know how your anxiety presents, so I went with my own experiences. Also, it’s not very angsty. (._. )

Your stomach twisted and churned as you paced back and forth in front of the living room couch. You could taste blood from where you had been chewing your bottom lip, and if you kept picking at your cuticles, you were sure that you wouldn’t have any more soon enough. Unfortunate that you couldn’t seem to bring yourself to stop.

Dark had been distant. You know he’s a busy man, of course he is, so at first you just believed that he was focused on work. You had yourself convinced of it. Now, though,  you weren’t so sure. Now, it seemed to you like he just… wasn’t interested in you like he used to be. You’ve wanted to bring it up, but you don’t want to end up pushing him away, and he probably wouldn’t want to talk to you anyway.

“Y/N?”

You stopped in your tracks and whirled around to face the living room archway. 

“Are you okay darling? I called you three times and you didn’t answer.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, just… thinking.”

The smile you offered wasn’t convincing and Dark’s brow furrowed as he stepped beneath the archway and moved into the room. He stalked toward you elegantly, as he always does, with a look of concern directed straight at you. You chuckled and smiled again, trying to convince both him and yourself that everything was fine, but he didn’t buy it. He saw right through you.

He stopped before you and studied your face closely for a moment before his hand rose to your cheek. He stroked it gently with a knuckle and you brought your own hand up to rest over his. 

“I’m fine,” you insisted.

“Don’t lie to me, love. Talk to me.”

You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth to chew it once more, and Dark leaned forward to kiss your forehead in response.

“Talk to me,” he repeated gently, his voice low and soft, and his eyes big and brown and as comforting as ever.

You sighed and swayed forward, and he opened his arms to allow you to fall against his chest. He wrapped you in a hug and you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck, breathing his warm scent deeply.

“I’m worried… about us. Or… about me, I guess.”

Your stomach twisted once more, only this time your heart accompanied it. It pounded in your chest, echoed in your ears so loudly that you almost didn’t hear his response. 

“Why are you worried about us?”

You lifted your head to look at him and he leaned back to allow room between the two of you so that he could gaze at you in return. He looked hurt. Almost… scared.

You felt sick. You shouldn’t have said anything. You should have insisted that everything was fine. Dark steadied your shaking by placing a hand on either of your arms and rubbing gently. 

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he insisted, as gently as before. 

You gulped again and took in a breath, trying to steady yourself in tandem with his own attempts.

“Well… I dunno. You’ve seemed… distant. I thought maybe you were getting tired of me…”

“Tired of you?” His eyes widened in surprise. “No, darling, never. I’ve been busy, and I know I’ve been neglecting you, but I could never grow tired of you. You mean everything to me.”

“I know you’re busy, which is why I didn’t say anything… But even when you’re not working, I feel like we hardly talk. The only conversations we have lately are small talk. I know I’m not interesting, but you’ve just seemed particularly bored of me lately.”

“Oh, love…” He frowned and pulled you back into the hug, holding you tight. “I’m so sorry, darling. I haven’t meant to make you feel like this. You’re so very far from boring. There’s just been so much on my mind, and it’s all jumbled up. I have a hard time thinking of anything but work right now. It’s not you.”

You held him back and took a moment to bury your face in his neck again. Your chest heaved as you let out a deep sigh and he held you closer, rubbing soft circles on your back with his warm hands.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice so low that it rumbled in his chest when he spoke.

Finally, he pulled away and held your hands as he gazed at you with a soft smile.

“Allow me to make it up to you? Let’s go to dinner, like we used to before this whole mess started, and I’ll do my best to focus less on work when I’m at home. Can we do that? Will you let me try and do better?”

His words and the loving look on his face tugged at your heartstrings, and a stray tear welled up and escaped down your cheek. You nodded, and this time it was your turn to pull him into a hug. You squeezed him so hard that his breath left him in a rush, and he chuckled. He pulled away once more, only long enough to get your attention so that he could swoop in and press his lips to yours in a soft kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed and you hummed, content.

He chuckled when he pulled away and you tried to chase after his lips with a disgruntled groan.

“We can have fun later if you want,” he laughed. “For now, what do you say to pizza and a movie or two?”

You clicked your tongue and squinted at him. “I like the idea of pizza, but I’m not in the mood for a movie.”

He thought a moment and then a sly smirk crept onto his face.

“How about pizza and a Mario Kart tournament?” he suggested. “I still owe you a rematch for the last time I beat you into the dust.”

You scoffed and smacked him playfully on the chest.

“You didn’t beat me. Teasing while we play is cheating.” 

He shrugged. “You’re too easy.”

You smacked him again, and he laughed heartily as you stepped away from him and stalked to the entertainment center, where you found the controllers for the Switch. You tossed him the red one, while you kept the blue. 

“Alright, pretty boy. You’re on.”