MarkiplierxReader - Darker Still

At least, you thought that because of what you saw. 

Sitting in your submission box on your Tumblr was a creepy drawing of Mark, sent to you by a user with a bunch of letters and numbers for a url. You knew better than to trust someone with a name like d4r3k1p163r4. Unless that was something in a language you didn't understand, in which case, you didn't really care. 

Under the drawing was a caption. "He's here." Classic horror trope. The imminent arrival of the bad guy. You rolled your eyes skeptically and hit the delete button. Drawings like that were pure fanon creations. 

Turns out, you were wrong, because moments later, you blinked and met resistance against your torso. 

Ropes. Around your body. Holding you onto a chair. 

Seriously? This had to be some kind of weird daydream. Maybe you ate something off. When was the last time you took NyQuil?

Actually, come to think of it, you'd never had it before. 

Never mind all that, where were you? A quick glance around told you. You were in some kind of a dark room with a solitary light bulb hanging over your head. Man, what was it with villains and isolated places? And what was with the whole lightbulb-over-the-head thing? You didn't get it. 

"Oh, good, you've arrived." 

A shiver ran down your spine, even though you didn't recognize the voice. Who was that? 

"[f/n], I've been waiting." 

Oh, great. You were totally in a horror film. 

Into the light stepped a muscled man with blood dripping from his completely black eyes, staring at you from behind black-rimmed glasses. You knew that face. 

"Mark?" 

"Not quite," he smiled with one corner of his mouth. 

The name that popped into your mind was unexpected, but you said it anyway. "Darkiplier?" 

"Close enough." He took off his glasses and tossed them into the shadows. "I suppose I don't need those anymore. I mean, I'm not really him. You know that, right? I'm sure you've read up on me."

"No, I thought you were a--"

"Character created by his fans." That's what you were going to say. "Unfortunately, no. I'm as real as Slender or the Amnesia monster."

"B-but those were just games," you spluttered. "You're not supposed to be real!" 

"And you're not supposed to be getting closer to my vessel. Yet, here you are."

"What are you talking about?" 

"You know what I mean."

"Enlighten me." 

It wasn't working. You weren't pissing him off. Your words bounced off him like bullets on lead. "Your relationship with Mark. It grows every day. And with the growth comes my weakening."

"What, am I the only person who can stop you?"

"Not at all. Only he can. And when he looks at you...oh, when he looks at you," his voice dipped even lower and creepier, "he thinks harder and sees the monster in him. He sees me. Obviously, I can't let that happen. You know how possession works." 

"Vaguely, but how'd you get in?" 

"Unimportant. Now that I have you here, and not in his physical dimension, he'll never find you." The evil smile crept to the other side of his face, and he stared you down. 

"Oh yeah? And what if I fight back?" 

"You can't. You're tied up." 

"...Right. That's a problem." 

"Enough talking. Time for you to blink out of existence."

"You talk an awful lot for someone who doesn't like talking." 

"Enough!" he seized your jaw and held it in place. "Once you're out of the way, there's no chance that Mark will discover me."

"Oh, isn't there?!" 

Darkiplier let you go and turned around. "What the--" But he got a face full of frying pan before he could finish. Standing behind him, holding a black frying pan, was Mark. His chest heaved as he looked down at Darkiplier. 

"Take that!" he pointed definitively at his possessor. Darkiplier groaned and stood up, but you were close enough to kick him in the shin, knocking him down to his knees again. "I don't know what you are, but you're not gonna hurt [f/n]!"

"Aren't I?" You heard a snapping of fingers. Suddenly, your throat locked up. Your eyes bugged out as you found yourself unable to breathe or speak. Mark seethed and smacked the pan against the side of Darkiplier's head again. You gasped and breathed again as you watched your captor shrivel up on the ground. 

"Thanks," you struggled to get your breath (and your heart rate, for that matter) back under control. 

Mark smiled and nodded. "You're welcome." Your vision faded to white as he reached out to undo your ropes.

You woke up on a couch. Wait, you knew that couch. 

Someone came out of a door across from you. 

Mark. 

You sat up as he noticed you. "[f/n], you're okay," he lit up as he came over and pulled you to your feet, embracing you.

"Yeah, I know," you laughed nervously. "Why wouldn't I be?" 

"I don't know. I always worry about you." He put his hands on your arms and smiled at you. "Hey, you wanna film Drunk Minecraft?"

"What, as a fourth person in your video?" 

"Why not?" 

"Okay! I'll head back to my place and get set up. I'll text you when I'm ready." You hugged him again and walked home, which was only a block from where he lived. You moved around your recording equipment until everything was orderly. 

Once you started filming, you joined Wade, Bob, and Mark in Minecraft. 

"Hello, everybody, my name is Markiplier and welcome to another episode of Drunk Minecraft with special guest, [f/n or your gaming username]!" You started hitting him with a diamond sword, and he died about two seconds later. 

"Wait, I wanted to kill Mark!" Wade spoke up while Bob lost it. You couldn't help it. You were happy to be back.