Markiplier Imagines (Mark X Reader)

•Psycho•

Can you come over?
-Mark

I wake up to seeing the text from Mark, sitting up in bed as it makes my dark room glow.

A lot is happening. Not usually like this. Please.
-Mark

I pick up my phone, squinting at it.

Okay. Be there in ten.

I throw the blanket off of me, slipping on some flats that I kept under my bed for exactly this. I stand up, not taking the time to pause and yawn. I check the time, and it reads 3:37 am. I shrug, knowing how difficult this all is for Mark, and that he deserves at least a friend.

Since he can remember, Mark has had dissociative identity disorder. He has at least 6 different personalities, one of which being who I call Mark. He's uttered the names of the others, but I truly can't keep up anymore. Mark mentioned something about a doctor I believe, and something about a guy named Will.

I don't bother changing, since he needs me now, and I grab my keys off of the table. Locking my door behind me, I get into my car and drive the short distance to Marks house. Thankfully there was no traffic, thanks to the time of morning.

As soon as I park, I jump out, not knowing how urgently he needed me. I try the front door, and since it's open, I go in.

"Mark? Mark love, it's me. Is everything okay?" I call out, not seeing any lights on. I take out my phone, turning the flashlight on. "Mark are you okay?" I suddenly feel like I'm in a horror game, searching through a dark house for someone. I didn't want to turn any lights on, since he could possibly be asleep. I go to his bedroom to see if he was there, but he wasn't. "Mark, please. Where are you?" I open the door to his office, and pause when I see him sitting in the corner of the room, staring at the wall. "M-Mark?" He looks up and smiles at me.

"I don't know your name, but someone knows you. Please sit with me." Mark requests, crossing his legs. I oblige, keeping my phone's flashlight on.

"Hey. Everything alright? Who am I speaking with?" A handsome smile plays on his lips.

"Damien. My name is Damien. Lovely to meet you." Mark replies in a deeper, more suave voice. "And you are?"

"I'm Y/N. I'm uh- Marks friend." He nods, blinking slowly.

"Ah of course- how could I not have recognized that pretty face?" I try not to smile as I squint my eyes at him.

"Yeah- well- Mark texted me, to come and help." Damien- er- Mark- shakes his head in confusion.

"Really? I'm not aware of any problems. You know, besides being clinically insane." He chuckles, and I feel like his stare is somehow comforting but intense, not afraid to make eye contact. "Thank you for coming over though. Gets rather lonely with just us to talk to." Mark leans his head against the wall, making a pained expression. "I'm losing control. It's been lovely talking with you." He manages, before he doubles over in pain, clutching his head.

"Mark- Are you okay?" He chuckles quietly, sending a shiver down my spine.

"This mind isn't mine- it isn't yours it isn't Marks it isn't Wilfords it isn't- it isn't it isn't it isn't." He rambles, his eyes basically rolling around. I take a shaky breath.

"Wow, okay Mark." I sigh, trying to keep my best straight face. Mark snaps his gaze to mine, as if surprised I was here. A wide smile spreads across his face, slightly scaring me. He chuckles a little, shaking his head at me.

"Y-You think I'm-" An accusatory finger points to me. "Y-You're just like everyone else." I shake my head, but still not knowing what he was talking about. "Y/N, you think we're psycho." The word psycho off of his lips was like venom; deadly and spat out. "Crazy, bonkers, ludicrous, insane!" He shouts, and I can only hope that each of those words was from a different personality, or else he really was crazy.