mine: the host

c-katastrophe  asked:

Since the Host lost his eyes, does he suffer from anxiety or panic attacks? I know how scary they can be and was wondering if any of the other Egos or Amy ever found him panicking...

Once, Host got lost in public while at museum. One moment, he’d had his arm looped around Amy’s, and the next, a crowd of people pulled them apart. Amy didn’t notice at first. She thought maybe Host had grabbed onto the back of her shirt instead, like he does at times when he wants to let her lead the way through tight spaces, but when she gets to the other side of the crowd, out in the open, she realizes that he is no where to be seen.

There’s a moment of pure panic as Amy whips around in every direction, scanning the crowds for his face, but she can’t find him anywhere.

It takes her all of five minutes to find him curled up behind a trashcan in a corner. He’s narrating so quickly that she can’t understand a word of what he’s saying. He’s rocking back and forth with his hands pressed over his ears, and his breathing is rapid and shallow like he can’t get enough air.

“Host, I’m here.” She pulls him close to her, wrapping her arms around him and speaking softly to him, “Take a deep breath, one at a time. With me, ok?” It takes a few minutes, but Host is finally able to calm down enough to match her breathing.

“The Host thought he was dying. Amy left him.” He starts to hiccup again, and Amy shushes him.

“No, no. I didn’t mean to let go. I’m sorry.” Amy clasps one of his hands between both of her and feels how he’s trembling. “Why didn’t you call for me?”

“Dark used to leave the Host in crowded places as punishment. He wouldn’t return for hours, so Host just found places to hide,” he explains quickly. Amy picks his cane up off the floor and presses it into his hands. The familiar grain of the wood soothes him a little. “The Host should’ve known that Amy would never do that to him.”

Amy pulls him slowly to his feet when he finally calms down enough to stand. “Don’t worry about it, Host, but please, if it happens again, just stop where you are and call for me, ok? I’ll come find you right away; I promise.” Host nods slowly. He still hasn’t let go of Amy’s hand.

“Are you alright now?”

Host nods, “As long as you’re here.”

timelordlullaby  asked:

Ok so I have an idea: What if the Host narrates whatever song's in his head? Like, the Egos are all at a meeting but the Host isn't really participating, just muttering furiously to himself off to the side as usual. Suddenly someone hears him say the word 'shot' and panic erupts, everyone thinking that he foresaw someone's murder. But then someone gets closer and realizes that, nope, he's just softly rapping My Shot to himself.

I feel like My Shot is just not a song that can stay quiet. Like he starts off trying to be as quiet as possible, but then he hits Laurens’ part and he just keeps getting louder. So Silver manages to catch the word shot, panics, and then the others start panicking and by the end, the Host is shouting the ending to an empty room while he’s standing on top of the table even though he doesn’t even remember getting up.

(As a side note, i’d love to hear Mark sing Burn directed at, like, Dark)

The Raven: A Host One Shot

The Host is out on the roof one morning, bright and early to get some air. He’s been cooped up in the library for nearing a month working on story after story until he finally couldn’t stand being inside anymore. Leaning on his newly restored cane, Host lets the first rays of sunlight drift over the horizon and warm his skin with their soft glow. He misses being able to see sunrises and sunsets, those beautiful in-between stages when night turns to day and back again, but he can still feel it, now more than ever.

However, he isn’t able to enjoy the experience for long because of a horrifying squawking that seems to be coming from nearby. “The Host wanders in the direction of the noise, sweeping his cane before him to check for any obstructions. The thing making such a ruckus is, in fact, a small, black bird, a raven with a broken wing. Host stoops down, approaching the raven slowly.” The bird, when it sees him approaching, tries to scuttle away, but it cannot get far.

“The Host wishes the bird would understand that he means it no harm. He simply wants to help the injured creature. As he narrates, the bird becomes calm, allowing the Host to approach and pick it up.” Host coddles the creature against his chest with one arm tucked protectively beneath it. “The Host decides it would be wise to seek the council of the Doctor, who may be able to repair the bird’s injured wing.”

So, with the bird tucked inside Host’s coat where it cannot be seen, he travels down to the clinic where Dr. Iplier is seeing to a little girl with a cough. When he looks up to see the Host, he assumes Host has come to get his bandages changed. “Just wait in one of those chairs, please. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Host sits carefully, shifting so that the small bird will be comfortable, but when he does, the little creature starts squawking again and writhing around trying to free itself. Host begins to hum softly, stroking the bird with gentle fingers to calm it. Soon, the raven quiets down again and seems to fall asleep snuggled against Host’s arm and chest.

Dr. Iplier watches the scene unfold out of the corner of his eye and makes a mental note that the Host can never cease to surprise him. Once he’s finished with the little girl and prescribed medicine for her cough, Doc calls for Host to come in and see him. “This isn’t about your bandages, I’m guessing.”

“The Host found this little raven on the roof, and he’s worried that it has an injured wing. The Host thought maybe Dr. Iplier would be willing to help since he has worked with animals before.” Host carefully pulls the raven from his coat, setting it on the desk before the Doctor with a hopeful expression.

“You know you don’t have to use third person around me, Host. Of course, I’ll help your new friend.” Dr. Iplier gently slides the bird closer to him and begins inspecting the broken wing. Host smiles and sits down in the chair across from the Doctor’s desk. “Yes, it is broken alright. But with a splint and some rest, I think this little lady has good chances of being able to fly again.”

Host breathes a relieved sigh as the Doctor grabs some supplies from his desk to make a splint.

“What are you going to name her? I assume you’re going to name her,” Dr. Iplier muses as he wraps the wing.

“Annabel Lee,” Host whispers without pause.

“You and your literary references.” The Doctor shakes his head as he finishes up with the bird and hands her back to Host. “Find a cardboard box and put something soft in it for her to sleep on. I can go get some food for her later, but make sure that for now she has plenty of water in a shallow dish. Got that?”

Host nods his head. “Water and a place to sleep,” he repeats back before tucking Annabel back inside his coat. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Dr. Iplier says softly as Host grabs his cane and heads for the door.

When the Host gets back to his library, he can’t find a cardboard box anywhere, so instead, he clears out one of his desk’s drawers and makes it a makeshift home for the bird instead. “I suppose I’ll have to give Fitzgerald a firm talking to about not eating you,” Host tells the raven as he places her in her new nest. “I’ve never known him to be violent, but you know how animal instincts are.”

Lewis Carroll sticks his head into the drawer to take a look at the newest resident of the library. “How do you like her, Lewis? She’s going to come live with us, at least for a while.” Host pets the little dragon’s head and goes back to making Annabel comfortable. The dragon crawls into the drawer, curling up with the bird, and glows softly. Host smiles, “So, you do like her. That’s good.”

After Host is sure that all his little friends are safe and sound, he goes to take a much-needed nap, and for the first time in a week, the Host doesn’t have a nightmare.

(I can’t stop giving the Host pets…)

(You’re no bother @taylorplays but you do hurt my heart)

It was probably one of those few nights where Dr. Iplier’s convinced him to go to bed with him and get some actual rest. And the Host agrees because he’s beyond exhausted, bones heavy and mind blurred so he thinks he’ll achieve a dreamless night. Of course he doesn’t, of course he awakens in the dead of night, fighting to untangle himself from the blankets wrapped around his legs. He can’t catch his breath enough to narrate so he’s effectively blind and it does nothing to help the terror clawing in his throat.

There’s a scream trying to rip itself from his lips but there’s now sound, and in his mind, where his sight is crystal clear, he can see Dr. Iplier sinking bellow the water, arms waving weakly in an attempt to stay afloat. The Dr. Iplier who’d been sleeping by his side scrambles in wakefulness, clutches at him and pulls him close. They’re both gasping for air, the Host clinging to Dr. Iplier like it’s the last time he’ll get to hold him.

It’s not a good night, but he’s convinced, just this once, that it was just a bad dream.

anonymous asked:

*uses anon magic to fix Dane the Cane*

(Love the name)

Host hears a *poof* of magic coming from his desk. “The Host observes the area around him with the use of his narration, and pinpoints the result of the magical noise that he heard moments ago. The result is…” He stops, something catching in his throat.

His hands quickly travel across the surface of the desk to the side of it where his cane, restored to a single, perfect piece of polished wood, leans against the desk. Host grips the cane to his chest with a swell of happiness. “The Host doesn’t know who you are,” he says the anonymous magician, “but he thanks you very, very much.”

@markiplier,

I have a serious question.

I watched “Markiplier TV” and there was one detail that really caught my attention. Why on Earth did the camera pan to Dr. Iplier before Darkiplier had begun to speak? And followup question… Why did Dr. Iplier look so angry? He can’t be upset about Wilford’s video… Because he clearly states he liked it. So what could he be so ticked up at during that part? Does he not like Darkiplier?

I was going to assume so, but he didn’t glare at Dark.

… Did he?