author author

The Transition of Author to the Host (Markiplier Ego What-If)


I was once known as the Author. My real name is of no concern; I write under this pseudonym as knowing my identity would inflict great risk on my person.

It was a title bestowed upon me, with powers with unforeseen consequences.

My eyes could see the future. My hands can write the events I want to control. My voice can bring it to life.

I was gifted.

I was powerful.


I had the ability to control life, but I had to write it down and read it aloud for it to happen. I could manipulate so many things, and the power that I grasped- it was overwhelming to a normal person. I saw so many possibilites to an event, to a human, yet I could choose what reality can happen. From the infinite realities, paradoxes and parallels, I could twist someone’s life and make it the way I want.

I loved every second of it.

So many books, I published. People loved it. They tell me, “it feels so real”. They don’t know it is. Naive fools, they were.

Looking back to it, I would not blame them. I succumbed to this power as well.
When characters start to rebel, you feel like you’re losing hold. Yet I am the Author. I was not go down so easily.

…Would I?

It was a mistake. It was a mistake that I shouldn’t have done yet I did due to sheer arrogance and pride. I looked at my future and its infinite possibilities. I readied my pen beside me and decided, “Out of all lives I could control…I could control mine, and make my life the best. Twist everything into my control, let it spiral into my palm, and hold it with an iron grip.”

I should’ve seen the repercussions of my actions without using my power.

With how I was and the path I was taking at the time, I was connected to everyone else; even those who weren’t even born yet. Those who even had died. I looked too far. Spiderwebs of millions of possibilities for each human and event on this planet that I will try to take control of. The things I saw… It drove me crazy.

It wasn’t only my end that I saw. It was The End. I know of the saying that "All things die eventually” but at what cost? I was not cruel to every one. I was only cruel to the characters that had that storyline.  To destroy humankind? What a disappointing ending. Cliche, and I did not become famous because I was cliche.

It was horrifying to see myself that way. Yet I couldn’t turn away. I doomed the world, wasn’t I pathetic? What had gone into me? What was going on with me?

Power had driven me to the deep end. I was doing my first step just by doing this, this horrible, unforgiving, neglectful, inconsiderate act!

And then, I knew what I had to do. I looked at myself, and made a decision I never thought I would ever do. I went to my writing desk, lost in my thoughts.

These eyes…. these eyes that made me see the future.

These hands that helped me write one’s life down.

This voice that brought the stories into reality.

I had to change the course of this world’s horrible ending, myself be damned. I had to write, write, write, write everything down.

I wrote endlessly. Planning the best course of action, for the best ending. I had to search the world and see who to control best for this world to be saved. My hands ached, begging for rest. I didn’t pay attention to it. They screamed in agony, days upon days writing. I steeled my nerves and continued.

My eyes, my eyes that saw the futures, they watered, dried up, and bled.  It was a disgusting mess to even stop to tie a strip of cloth around my eyes to cover them, and it was even more revolting that I had to replace and wash it all the time. The blood, they went everywhere when they fully soak the cloth. It was only through the years that I have spent writing was I able to accomplish my goal.

My voice, silenced, as I conserved my energy. White noise filled the room, and I realized how alone I am. So many characters yet no one that I really know of. So many characters yet they rebelled against me, angry at me.

The book, the last book I had to finish. The book that I know by heart. The book, that I know, even if I was not reading it directly, was already embedded on paper. The course of the world controlled by selected prominent figures. My plan to change the path that I had destroyed into a better one.

My eyes, bleeding endlessly, through several stained bandages wrapped around my head.

My hands, writing endlessly, a mangled mess, now resting on weary arms, never able to write anything anymore.

A sacrificial act by my own hand? What a surprise. A twist that I did not see. I have to hand it to fate, or maybe destiny, or just plain old, cruel life. You truly have made a perfect concoction of the definition of a cliffhanger.

I was done. Finally done.

A relieved sigh escaped me. Hopefully by the choices that I wrote down, a better ending will be achieved. All is left for me to do is to let the key players do their own part of this massive game, these series of programs of life.

All is left for me is to be the Host.

By this point, everything is a cliffhanger.
.
.
.
I opened my mouth, and spoke in a voice not louder than a whisper.
“Brought forward in order to confront a rising crisis, a man organizes a meeting….”


To the peeps I know who loves doing theories and whatnot: @lowat-golden-tower, @jeaniplier, @angstphilosophy, @s-t-s-g, @markired, and to anyone who would like to pitch in their thoughts, I’ll be glad to see!

spaceboy-ethan  asked:

Dark punishing host by leaving him in the middle of a busy crowd. Dark turning his attention away for just a moment to see Google leading Host out of the crowd.

(Oh?? My gosh!!?)

But imagine it’s the whole Google squad, all four of them making a little box around the Host and keeping him close while they shuffle him away from the buzz that makes it impossible to navigate by himself.

Dark watches in disbelief as disappear into the crowd.

Things I really need to happen on Steven Universe at this point

1. Lapis and the Crystal Gems clear shit up and actually be on good terms with each other instead of just awkwardly tolerating each other’s existence
2. Rose meeting Pearl and Amethyst for the first time *
3. Rose’s reason(s) for shattering PD and the events leading up to that decision*
4. WHITE DIAMOND FFS 
5. Lapis/Pearl fusion
6. Steven/Garnet fusion
7. The moment of Rose’s death/Steven’s birth*
8. The remaining gems on earth + Connie exhume PD’s palanquin and arm ship thingy to rescue Steven and Lars because the irony of that would be remarkable
9. Peridot/Pearl fusion
10. Topaz redemption arc!!!


* = in the form of a flashback, obvi

anonymous asked:

The Host jokingly saying something like "kill me now" and Warfstache freaking out because no why would he kill his soft precious boy

Wilford, who’s ridiculously trigger-happy and kills almost thoughtlessly, actually pauses with his hand halfway to his gun, eyes wide and terrified.

His fingers twitch because someone said the magic words, but he doesn’t want to shoot the Host. He’d rather get shot again than shoot the Host, but what if that’s what he really wants?

But the Host nudges his hand away from his weapon, lets him know that he was kidding and it’s honestly the most Wilford has ever been relieved to not have to shoot anyone

the-graves-twins  asked:

Matthias dumping' Bim and all the others being super protective of him and comforting him like the big bros they are. I live for sad!Bim.

(Let plant son be happy)

He’s sitting on the couch sandwiched between Wilford and Dr. Iplier while they watch romcoms to try to cheer him up, and Yandere runs gentle hands through his hair, not gelled back so that his resemblance to Mark is more apparent than usual.

His eyes are red and puffy under his glasses and his cheeks are streaked with tears. He’s wearing a too big shirt and baggy, plaid pajama bottoms and looks nothing like his usual neat, put together self.

Google doesn’t say “I told you so”, but he does offer to annihilate Matthias, half for himself, half for Bim and a hundred percent for revenge because he and Bim may not see eye to eye on many things, he’s still one of the things that makes the Host happy.

The Host, of course, brings the rocky road for him and Bim to share.

Merlin cares for his clothing and his chambers and his weapons, arms him for tournaments and for hunts and for battle. Merlin’s slept at his side and fought at his back and saved his life. Merlin argues with him and fights for him and doesn’t know that he’s supposed to fear him.

He’s a sorcerer, his fate in Camelot written on the sharpened blade of an axe, and yet he stays, polishing armour and serving wine and risking treason with every breath he takes to protect Arthur. And Arthur can’t protect him; he can’t even make Merlin protect himself.

sparkledragons  asked:

Idk if you still have any interest at all in that monster su au you made like a year ago. But I never saw any posts from people talking to you about it. Also I love it? But Peridot as a Naga (idk why I associate naga with tech stuff but I do and it's weird)? And the diamonds as different kinds of dragons? (feel free to not respond if you don't have interest in this au anymore. I just really loved it when I saw it)

Hey, thanks so much!  There wasn’t a whole lot of enthusiasm when I first published that piece, so I didn’t really go anywhere with it, but I’m up for giving it another shot.  Here’s the original in case anyone is confused: X

I like all those ideas.  The Diamonds weren’t confirmed yet when I drew that, but naturally they would be dragons because they literally have hoards of gems, eh?

And, knowing what we do now, Jasper would be a minotaur to Amethyst’s satyr.  Making the Human Zoo look something like the Pastoral Symphony from Fantasia, with Holly Blue Agate in the role of Zeus, hurling lightning bolts down to ruin everyone’s party.

I love Peridot as a Naga (her hair even kind of looks like a cobra hood) but what would her limb enhancers be????  Like, maybe they gave her legs because she didn’t have any.  But like if Perisnake had limbs, would she wear them like:

standing up like a person?

some kind of lizard thing??

*scuffle scuffle scuffle scuffle*

A FRICKKEN???  CATERPILLAR?????

Ok, yeah.  We have a winner.

The best part of this is, you know when Peridot poofed and Amethyst was all “eeewwww, there’s bits of her all over!” ?  Depending on how long she is and how many little hands and feet we give her, there could literally be bits of her all over the entire fricken galaxy warp.  Just.  All over.  So many little parts.  Oh my god.

And consider, scared ball python Peridot:

I ain’t scare of no things

CSBB Snippet

Here’s a snippet from a CSBB work in progress for you to enjoy!

“Jones, was it?”

Her tone isn’t unfriendly, but still Killian wonders if he’s somehow already gotten on the queen’s bad side.

“Aye, Your Majesty.”

She just nods, giving nothing away, and turns to say something quietly over her shoulder to Mary Margaret, who curtseys and departs to join the rest of the hunting party. When she’s gone, Emma sweeps her skirts into her hands, and begins to march off in the opposite direction.

“Walk with me, Sir Jones. I am bored of the hunt.”

Killian hesitates for a brief second, but then takes off after the queen. He shoots a glance over his shoulder, and thankfully, catches Robin’s eye who happened to glance back to see what was going on. Killian inclines his head to the departing queen, and Robin nods in approval.

Killian turns back and hurries to catch up with Emma. Her step is quick, and she says, over her shoulder, “There is a small stream just ahead.”

She leads the way, and it’s only when Killian realizes she means to forge her own path through the scraggly bushes and hanging branches that he steps ahead of her. As he pushes the bushes to the side and holds the branches out of her way, she raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t comment, and after pushing through another few sets of branches they come upon the small stream.

Emma steps towards the trickling water, lifting her skirts from the damp ground, and bends down to pick up a smooth stone from the water’s edge. Killian stands off to the side, ready to just hang around with her in silence until she decides to return to the rest of the group, but the queen surprises him.

She turns from the stream and regards him curiously. “Tell me, Sir Jones,” she says, slowly, “how does an honoured English naval lieutenant end up disgraced and then serving as a French Musketeer?”

Like this snippet? Reblog with your thoughts in the tags to let the author know what you think!

anonymous asked:

I feel like the Host would be a big flirt when he wanted to be. Like he doesn't always say much when he's not narrating but if he ever said something flirty to someone it would be very direct and that person would have to do a double take because "Did the Host really just flirt with me" and the Host would be all smug and smiley about it because he may not say a lot but he has such a way with words

He was especially flirty as the Author, and though people knew him to be crass and sometimes rude, they also knew him to a smooth talker, silver-tongued and charming. When he comes back as the Host, quiet and soft spoken, they assume he’s somehow lost his ability to flirt.

It’s absolutely not true though because when he’s in the mood he can turn a phrase and use it like a bouquet of roses and it’s enough to get anyone’s heart pounding. He knows he’s smooth and he knows that he has a pleasant voice that can be lowered to a sultry growl and anyone who listens to it is enraptured.