Summoner's Folly // Darkiplier X Reader ✔️

11. The absence of Dark

Days had passed since Dark's departure, yet the void he left behind seemed to stretch endlessly before you. As you sat by the window, bathed in the gentle warmth of the sun, you found yourself lost in contemplation, the delicate necklace he had gifted you resting like a talisman in the palm of your hand.

The black stone at its centre glimmered faintly, casting ethereal shadows across the room as it caught the light. It was a reminder of his absence and you grappled with the weight of longing, the ache of separation. How were you to move on from a love that had left an indelible mark upon your heart? How were you to fill the emptiness that resonated, reverberating with the memories of whispered promises and stolen kisses?

As you trace the intricate patterns of the necklace with trembling fingers, you understand now why he is the god of the void.

The elegant dress lay nestled within a neatly wrapped box, concealed in the depths of your wardrobe, its beauty hidden from prying eyes. As you thought of the box, a pang of realization swept over you—there was little else within it, save for the memories it held. It struck you then, with a bittersweet clarity, that there existed not a single photograph of the two of you together. A wistful smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you imagined the playful banter that would have ensued had you possessed such a memento, but that dry chuckle immediately turned into a frown.

The kitchen in the morning felt hauntingly empty. You would wake up, half-expecting to be greeted by the tantalizing aroma of breakfast cooking on the stove, hoping against all odds that this was all just a bad dream. Perhaps you'd turn around to find him there, his back to you as if time had miraculously reversed itself, granting you a second chance.

In those moments of quiet solitude, you found yourself grappling with the weight of regret and the relentless hurt of human time. If only you had known, you would have shown your love more openly, trusted him with your heart without reservation, rewritten the terms of your contract to defy the inevitable separation that loomed on the horizon if it was possible. But hindsight was a cruel companion, taunting you with endless possibilities and what-ifs, each one tinged with the bittersweet sting of missed opportunities.

The taste of chocolate no longer brought the same joy it once did. With every bite, all you could remember were the soft, sweet pressure of his lips against yours, the way he melted into you like the finest confection. You'd sit at the same ice cream parlour, staring at the singular scoop of the earthy treat, no add-ons, as if you were mourning, so to speak.

Every time you passed by a shop with elegant dark suits on display, it was as if a phantom of him emerged, draped in the fabric with a grace beyond mortal reach.

It didn't help when your aunt called you the other day, inviting you to dinner with her partner. "I didn't get the chance to sit with you and Mark alone, darling. I'd love to get to know you two better after whatever that wedding was!" she joked, her laughter falling on ears that heard only echoes of the past. You stared into the wooden panels of your flooring, the weight of her words heavy on your heart.

"Yeah, uh, Mark is out of town for work, and I'm not sure if I have free time in my schedule. How about I call you back later?" You'd reply mechanically, not just to her but to everyone who inquired. How could you explain to them that you had fallen in love with the embodiment of shadows itself, a god beyond their comprehension? How could you convey the depth of your emotions without being thrown into a psych ward?

All this love in your heart, all this pain, and nowhere to spill it. It was a burden you carried silently.

Work felt like trudging through a swamp, each step heavier than the last. Clocking in meant entering a realm where everyone was blissfully unaware of the storm raging inside you. To them, you were just another face in the crowd, living an ordinary, boring existence. Like a robot, you'd do your tasks, trying to dissociate yourself from it all. Every mundane task felt like a Herculean effort, each smile you mustered a façade hiding the discomfort gnawing at your insides.