Suspicious Minds [Darkiplier/Markiplier x Reader]

Chapter Four: The Host

A/N: I can already hear the rampaging, "But, Actual_Angel, The Host and The Author are the same person." In my story, they aren't. If you don't like it, I am sorry, but I'm not changing it. I've always viewed them separately, even though, canonically, they aren't.
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When you came to, you felt something restraining your wrists and ankles. You glanced down to see rope holding you to a chair.

You thought to yourself: How typical. Why is it always rope and a chair?  Why can't they be more creative?

You observed your surroundings, seeing that you were in a room made of only concrete. It was void of decoration or furniture, which made the area seem huge. The only things in this place were you and your b̶o̶n̶d̶a̶g̶e̶  wooden chair.

Your head and nose still ached from Author's attacks. You were physically and emotionally exhausted. You had no idea where Mark or Dark was, what condition they were in, or what your captor planned on doing to you.

You were alone with your thoughts in that room for what felt like hours. You tried to remove your restraints but it wasn't happening. When will all of this be over?

You used your alone time to reflect on the fight you and Dark had. He was fixated on you choosing between him and Mark. He wanted the goddamn answer then and there, but it's not an easy choice. Honestly, you didn't know why you all couldn't be one big happy poly family.

Then again, Dark is Mark's alter ego, meaning he's basically Mark with a different personality. It'd kinda be weird for Mark to fuck himself, but knowing Mark, he probably would. If he and Dark had sex would it be masturbation or incest? Why am I thinking about this?

You wondered if Dark would pressure you to be with him after this whole thing blew over. How could you pick? All of this thinking was giving you a head and heart ache. You don't want to deal with what you feel. (There is no distraction to mask what is real.)

The door knob twisted and in came Author. He closed the door behind him with a blank expression. He moved closer to you, a smirk present on his face now. You glared back at him defiantly, giving him the "I'd kick you in the balls if I could" look.

"Hello, (Y/N)." He stated calmly, crossing his arms. "You look frustrated about something." He titled his head to the side in mock confusion. God, he was an annoying prick.

"Oh, gee, I wonder why?" You said in the most sarcastic tone you possibly could.

"You should've let me tell my story." He ignored your remark. "We could've avoided this whole misunderstanding."

"For some reason, I highly doubt that." There was that beautiful sarcasm again, but this time he scowled at you.

"Watch your tone. I don't have much patience left with you." He growled, but before you could retort, he spoke once more.

"As much as I would thoroughly enjoy causing you an immense amount of pain," He was pacing around your chair now. "I have a job to do."

"So," he said, stopping in front of you and leaning down to your eye level. "We can do this two ways-"

"The easy way or the hard way." You cut him off, knowing that he would say that. "You must be a terrible writer if you use cliche statements like that."

A slap across the face rewarded your sass. You didn't regret your words. He deserved it. However, it may be best to avoid antagonizing your captor. Your stinging cheek was evident of that.

"You should show me some respect. There's only so much a man can take." He said, letting his anger slip. He tried to hide it, but he wasn't doing very well. "Anyways, as I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, how this whole confrontation goes is up to you. Answer my questions and I'll make sure they go easy on you."