A Date with Darkiplier

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Based on an anonymous request from tumblr: “A version of Date with Markiplier where when Darkiplier does his ‘I’ll give you anything you desire’ speech the reader says ‘Sounds like a sweet deal, I’m in’ and throws Darkiplier completely.”

Hard to surprise the King of Manipulation, I say, but it’s still worth a shot. Since this fic’s basically a remix of the original source material, there’s a lot of the dialogue from the “HORROR” and “FREEDOM!” choices. I hope you enjoy it in any case.

The post included this gif (made by softestnaesheim):

Mark glances up at the poster for the horror play you elected to see. “I’ve never actually seen this play before. I don’t even know who made it, so… could be a fun adventure.” He gives you a sweet smile. “Let’s give it a try.”

The teller at the counter snorts, adding sarcastically, “Good luck.” You see he’s glaring right at Mark, as if he had done something wrong.

You and Mark exchange puzzled looks for a moment, then shrug it off. “That was weird,” you mutter as Mark leads you into the theatre.

“He’s probably having a bad day,” Mark allowed forgivingly. “I mean, it can’t be great to sweep floors all day and clean toilets.”

“True,” you reply. After all, you remember well your first job… which definitely wasn’t any kind of fun either.

“So, Mr. Fischbach,” you say, affecting a posh English accent. “Do tell of your choice to adjourn for post-dining delights at the the-a-tre.”

He laughs and immediately launches into a feigned humble-brag. “I’m a patron of the arts,” he says with a dramatic flourish of his hand. “I certainly love new plays, new theaters, new artistes.” He grins. “Y’know. It stokes the embers in my soul,” he declares with a stage actor’s flair for drama.

You both laugh together, and you find yourself glad to be on this date with him. He’s been genuinely nice and funny throughout the evening and, brief monetary hiccups aside, he’s so adorable you could just kiss him right now. Down, girl! you mentally scold yourself. Save that for later.

You find your seats, front and center to the stage, and share the container of popcorn as you continue to chat. There’s an audible creak – the curtain being pulled back? – and Mark exclaims, “Oh, it’s starting!”

You glance at the stage but, other than a white table, there’s nothing there. You turn to look at Mark… and he’s gone!

Where’d he go? you wonder, alarm bells firing off in your head. Though there’s literally no one around besides yourself, you’re compelled into a high state of panic, as more primitive instincts warn you of impending danger. Oh no, this can’t be good!

The shadows in the theatre suddenly loom large, and sweep their way throughout the theatre. An unearthly chill turns your breath into fog, and a high-pitched ringing assaults your ears.

Then… He’s there. He looks like Mark, but He’s definitely not; the posture is all wrong, His eyes are as dark as the deepest abyss and His smile is sharp like broken glass. You feel like a mouse caught in the hypnotic gaze of a cobra as He approaches, looming over you. “Did you miss Me?”

Your breath catches in your throat. The thing that’s been in your dreams since the day you met Mark, what you thought was just a nightmare caused by pre-date jitters… He’s here and He’s real. But no, you haven’t only seen Him before in your mind the last few weeks; there’s been a looming shadow haunting you since your parents died a few years ago. He’s the shadow you feared all along and never hoped to see in the waking world. He is the Darkness, and He has come for you.

Without waiting for your response, this thing that looks like Mark but isn’t says, “I missed you. Very much. I’ve been waiting a long time to see you again.”

The question is out before you can stop it. “You wanted to see me? Why?”

His smile, apparently meant to be kind, isn’t all that comforting to you right now. “Because I have so much I want to share with you. So much I want you to see.” His hands clench and, because they’re braced against your armrests, there’s an audible crack of the wood underneath His grip. “I’ve been pushed aside, replaced, mocked. And then he had the gall to not invite Me to his little adventure with you. No more. Never again,” He snarls. “It’s My turn now.”

“Your turn?” you parrot in confusion.

His expression looks downright murderous now as He stands at His full height, His unnaturally deep voice now colder than the temperature of the room. “I’ve been waiting patiently. He promised he would let Me in again.” He straightens His suit jacket. “I’m tired of giving people a choice. But I suppose I could give you one last option.”

You whip your head around in startlement as four different doors simultaneously swing open. Three are couched in shadow, and one bathed in light.

“Take your pick. Anything of four different choices, more than he could have ever given you, and let’s see how far down this rabbit hole really goes.” He sneers then. “Take your pick. Show Me what you’ve got. And maybe we’ll have a good ‘date’ after all.”

Your instincts scream at you to head for the light, and you immediately make a break for it, suddenly grateful you’d chosen to wear flats instead of heels for your date. Hoping against hope that freedom is in sight.

You carreen to a halt and groan inwardly. He’s already there, waiting. But He’s marginally less imposing seated at a table with a bottle of wine and matching glassware.

Less imposing, but not by much.

You find yourself drawn to the table. Almost against your will, you lower yourself into the chair across from Him.

“Good choice,” He tells you, and you feel weirdly proud to earn His approval. Why? He just scared you! But… aside from His sudden and unexpected appearance, and His apparent anger towards Mark, He hasn’t actually done anything to you. You don’t quite feel safe, but you’re no longer frightened, at least.

You manage a quiet, demure “thank you.”

“But why do we need to choose in life?” He wonders aloud. “If dinner is what you want, then I can provide. And I can take you wherever you’d like to go. I can especially take you to places you don’twant to go.”

You ponder this for a long moment. He sees the change in your expression, and smiles at you. Suddenly, He no longer seems scary but… nice. Intimidating and intense, but nice. You belatedly remember Mark and, while you briefly feel bad that you haven’t thought about him before now, you have a feeling he’s alright.

“It’s exciting, knowing there are endless possibilities waiting for you.” His voice becomes soft, like a lover’s caress. “I can give you anything your heart desires.”

You gaze at Him for a long moment. “I know You… but I don’t. I don’t even know Your name… if someone like You has a name. But I remember a dark shadow lurking in the corners of my mind. It was You, wasn’t it?”

He smiles. “Yes. You say I am dark. Then let that be sufficient as My name.”

“Okay. Dark. I’m –”

“I know who you are,” He says, cutting you off before you complete your introduction. “I’ve known for a long time.” He then says your name, and it sounds more like a lion’s purr. “I’ve been waiting a long time to get some… personal time between us. So, now that we’re here together, we can really get to know each other.”

It doesn’t sound so bad, actually. But still…

“What’s the catch?” you ask. “I mean, it kinda sounds like a supernatural Let’s Make a Deal.”

“You already chose what was behind door number four,” He points out slyly, and you laugh in spite of yourself. Dark, the scary supernaturally-powered guy actually has a sense of humour – who knew?

“There’s no catch,” He then tells you gently. “You just need to let Me in. It’s as simple as that.”


He raises an eyebrow. “’Okay’? Hmmm. I thought I would have to do quite a bit more to convince you.” He genuinely seems bemused by that, and you laugh.

“Look, You just promised me paradise on a silver platter. What girl wouldn’t want that?”

“What, indeed,” is His rejoinder as you clink your wine glasses together.


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Mostly, I write stuff. And, like the Egyptians and the Internet, I put cat pictures on my walls. Also, I can read your Tarot.