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Tiny Box Tims for all of @markiplier ‘s alter egos!
(Inspired by @monochromemedic ‘s post)
Please don’t mind the quality, as these are A) my first attempt at digital art, and B) I literally had no other options than to use MS Paint to make these. (Also I’m sorry Silver Shephard came out looking more like an alien than a super hero, whoops ^.^;) But despite all that, please enjoy and don’t repost without credit! I spent three days on these little guys and for my first try, I’m pretty proud :)
Thanks to Markiplier for always making videos that inspire me and brighten my day ^.^
Bonus: Tiny Box Sam












GOOGLEPLIER ICONS
you're free to use these without credit. they're literally just screenshots.
Ok, but like what if Yandere Markiplier ego's all kinda just low-key despised other Yandere ego's like Septiceye ego's for example; they would still be friends per say just a nice little rivalry to get their obsessions attention

A lovely Google hug.
Reblogs appreciated!
À̷͝b̴͏̷̶͏a̢̨͜͠͞ǹ̢͏d̴̴̢͜o̸̧͘n҉͏e͟͡d̸̴̛͢͢ ̶̨́͢b͟͡y͢͞͝͏̨ ̷͘͜͡G͢ǫ̷̧͟ḑ̕͠ ̷͠ Chapter 2, A deal with the Devil, Part 6, Glitch who Needs no Introduction.
He doesn't think he’ll ever forget it. Not now, not ever. He’ll never forget the look on Jacks' face when he took control. When he showed once and for all he wasn't something to be played with. Not something that would just cooperate with everything his maker said.
There was a hunger for power and attention. He was the main event, the reason why they all watched. He was the clock ticking away the audiences long hours theorizing and roleplaying. It was intoxicating his already twisted mind and was more gratifying more than any other sensation he'd ever felt. He recognized that look of exhilaration on its face.
What is that?
There was a thing of beauty in front of him as Anti watched from the screen wondering who in the world could this creature of independence be? Marks panicked speech all but muted by the vengeful roar of the bat swiping through the air. The strikes were calculated, each had a designated target, making each one potentially fatal. A beautiful dance of emotions.
But it was wasted on a definite partner who could never appreciate the beauty of it.
He processed the expression on Marks' face.
It was the same as Jacks.
Who is this?
The figment orchestrating the Creators doom was made of well-built form cloaked in a casually black button up vertically white striped quarter sleeved shirt. Grey pants with torn up knees covered his legs. His slip on shoes a darker gray. It would make sense for him to have slip ons, for he didn't seem like the type to have good knot tying abilities as where his eyes (maybe?) once were. All that remained were black sockets. Eyes that enveloped Anti with a story that was better than any book could ever hope. That's when the smell hit him. It was the smell of blood and decay, but with an after thought of pain and ink. Anti stared through the screen of the monitor and wondered,
Who is he?
He may not know who he was, but he knew exactly what he was going through.
Pink flooded his vision and Anti fled the monitor and retreated back to the depths of the code out of surprise. the feeling of solitude slithering down his spine. he wanted to go back, to see and hear more about this stranger he knew from a glance.
No.
He had come here for a reason, he could not abandon his goals just because he had seen another one of Marks discarded creations. No
He would simply hunt the mystery ego down after he got a physical form.
Speaking of,
Anti swam through the sea of code searching for the status of the Googles. He bypassed the firewall easily, Hm. The Googles prided themselves on their security, but it looked like this software hadn’t been updated or maintained in months. Makes it easy for him.
Google Unit Red- Offline
Google Unit Yellow- Pending
Google Unit Blue- O̶nl͙͙i҉̘n̜͙̝̯͐ͥ̌͘͟͝e̶͈̭͙̘̯͎͕̥ͬ̾ͩ̅͘͜
Google Unit Green-Powering Up
Anti figures Green is the best way to go as, last time he checked, Green had the most information. Antis face cracked a sickening smirk as he waited for Green to power up, waited for the moment his system was the most valuable, and then like a snake is on the grass, jumped from the computers code to Greens mainframe the second the androids eyes split open.



This is absolutely amazing, thank you for requesting this. XD
Abandoned by God Poems. Google.
Coded in the depths of a core,
That has been cold for so long.
But the hatred that had grown there
Can never just pass on.
And if you loved past that much,
Then stay there,
cause I have no time to waste
just to talk to thin air.
I will not allow this,
defected team
To dissipate
to leave me all alone.
But that what my programming states.
The lines of codes act like steel chains,
I can reach out all I want,
But I can't stop this blinding pain.
Stabbing through my core,
as I try to tell you.
You are not alone.
I swear,
And with a corrupted file and a malfunction,
Ill restore you all again,
You will atone.
I'll make you see.
To see if I could.
((So the whole story basically what if Google had a obedience program that was almost like a drug? Like every time google completes a task, his system is flooded with a weird happiness chemical? This was supposed to make Google dependent on humans but eventually after nearly shutting down the program was disabled and Google learned to live without it? And Dark used the Host to find this out? And then Dark reactivated it?))
The library was without a doubt his favorite place in the building.
The sleek exterior of the office was simply a front for the many mix-matched floors and residents of the building. The contrasting floors were a headache to get through on a good day and there were days where the thought of going from the bright pink studio of Wilfords to the simplistic and grim office of Darkiplier was unbearable to the eyes. Even his own offices' antiseptic smell sometimes was too much for him. The messy array of syringes and pill bottles was stressful at most, and unbearable at worst. The Host had told him many times that he would be willing to help him organize it, but he had always declined. Feeling much too embarrassed to say otherwise.
The Hosts library, on the other hand, was a different story. It was a certain organized chaos that the Host seemed to glide through to locate any book he was looking for. It was a maze of tall shelves that only he knew the path. Combined with the low light of the sparsely place light bulbs that hung high above, to say it was enchanting was an understatement.
The Host allowed him to borrow books. a privilege no other ego had earned, and Edward had done everything he could to prove himself worthy of his trust. So when it finally came time to return the book, Edward stepped into the elevator and hit the button for Hosts level.
Edward fidgeted with the book, a small smile beginning to grace his face. He thought about what he would say the other ego. What could he say in order to keep up the conversation? The elevator dinged and he quickly looked up as the doors opened.
"Host?" He called out as stepped through the threshold into the darkened library. A chill ran down his spine, the silence hung heavy in the air. There were no pages turning, no hum of his recording equipment or soft words. The Host could've been asleep, but if he was he would have locked up the library. Host never liked people to wander in when he was away or otherwise unaware.
"Host? Are you alright?" He called again, walking into the near darkness. Footsteps echoed like thunder as he squinted his eyes in order to see. Trying to call the Hosts name again, he was left with no response. There was only one way to go from here, and that the Hosts Desk. Edward paused, feeling ashamed at his stupidity and pulled out his phone, turning on the flashlight. Even with the beam of light, he still managed to bump into two shelves before he reached the center recording room.
The beam of light stuck revealed a form slumped over at the desk, The radio equipment was dark and a display of opened books littered the wooden surface like discarded wrappers. The Host was arms were folded up to rest his head on the desk. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, something was wrong, But he just couldn't place what it was.
"Host! There you are, You had me worried!" Relief flooded through Edwards' bones, making him stumbled slightly as he quickly made his way over to the Host. As he got closer, he realized what had unsettled him.
His mind stalled as his hands shot into action, grabbing the Host by his shoulders to tilt his head up, the unconscious egos arms fell limply to his sides as his head tilted to the back of the chair.
Blood. Blood was everywhere. it tripped thickly from the Hosts half-lidded eye sockets down his face in rivers, then puddled on the table, staining every page it touched. Finally, it ran down the sides of the desk and settled on the floor.
"Host?! Host, can you hear me?" Edward used one hand to grab the Hosts chin and the other to shine a light into his eye sockets. Host had no response, and under Edwards' fingertips, he couldn't feel a pulse. Looking closer at his eye sockets, the darkened bleeding tissues was strangely punctured and bloody, almost like it’d been stabbed. Mumbling curse after curse, Edward unlocked his phone and scrolled til he saw the correct number.
The phone rang as Edward quickly glanced over the rest of the Host. There didn't seem to be any other injury, other than a few rips in the front of his trench coat, there wasn't any sign of a struggle. And definitely no sign of a knife or blade. Finally, the phone stopped ringing.
"Dr. Iplier, to what do I-"
“Red? Where’s Google?”
“Blue was called to a meeting with-“
"You know what- Shut up and get to the Hosts floor. He's bleeding out and I need you to help me get him to the clinic and to stabilize him." Edward was breathing too fast to speak calmly, but Red didn't comment.
"On my way."
Red hung up.
Shaking the radio host shoulders again, the doctor took a second to glance at the desk, and in that second he stopped breathing. On one page there were diagrams of what looked like a torso, but it wasn’t human. It was metal bended and twisted to have a shape of a human with synthetic skin on top of it. Another page had binary filling the blank space with a sketch of a glowing core in the center. another page had what looked like code words and programs all hidden once hidden with the book laid out to see. Broken bloodied pencils lay rolling off to the side. The worst thing however, came from what was on top of the books.
‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.’
‘Please I’m so sorry’
‘Darkiplier never finds out what the host has learned and forgets about everything.’
The moment of Confusion was ended by a flash of pain in his chest as Edward turned back to Host, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.
“Oh Isaac…’
The door to the library flew open.
There was nothing better than code.
Simple, effective, coherent, all the things a human mind, at best, couldn't dream to be. His entire memory and mind was build from little numbers that spun and ticked to build thoughts from the sparks of electricity in his core. Although emotions weren't programmed into his internal A.I, when he was able to complete a task correctly, a certain lightness took hold of his chest compartment and just as quickly vanished. A program booting up and then just as quickly shutting down.he told himself that this was most likely a safety feature designed to deter him from disobeying, He was strong enough now to not need the program, even though after all this time, he still had yet to delete it.
This program wouldn't have mattered if he hadn't been so careless. It hadn't even remained in his recent memory banks. And it would have stayed that way if he had just deleted the damn thing.
It was in a meeting in the grim office on the top floor.
"Hello Google, I appreciate you showing up. I know it's technically after hours but I had some concerns I needed to bring up."
"Of course, Darkiplier. Unfortunately for me, it is never truly after hours."
Dark had smiled at that, a tight one-sided smile that revealed some of his teeth.
"Ah, Yes, You are quite overworked, aren't you?"
Despite the little numbers in his head informing him of his usefulness to the head ego, and thus his safety. Something else had his attention, a cold finger of [definition matched: Dread] Dread, ran along the cables in his lower chassis.
"I am essential to this project, I am always working because that's what the project requires. You need me."
"I do. but unfortunately, Google, What you've been giving me isn't what the project requires. And I’ve been informed that there’s a way to fix that.”
At this, Dark had gotten up, suave and smooth, the strange creaking sounds of overworked bones filled with dust echoed fainty like a faraway gunshot and black eyes filled Googles vision. Dark had gotten far too close far too quick, leaving the android to jerk roughly back as his mind spun round like a dreidel.
"You know Google, such a complex machine such as yourself, surely the engineers installed some sort of obedience program."
The honeyed words fazed through his synthetic skin and dripped into his wires and circuits like cold ink that buzzed like insects.
"I-I-"
Opening his mouth, the buzzing creatures filled his throat, rattling his voice box as Blue choked, errors flooding his system.
"Oh, don't worry Google. The Host already told me allllll about it~"
His ventilation system was seized by a shutter, Host? What had happened to-he opened his eyes to a carousel of blue and black, spinning like the numbers in his head. a piercing sound silenced the ticking in his head, and Google fell into a void. Never hitting the ground.
"Let's see what we can make of you."
Dark supposed his office wasn't the friendliest of places. And given his auras habit of lashing out, It certainly wasn't the place for arguments. Which was funny, Dark supposed, because this is where they usually happened.
Darks hands danced across the piano, humming along to the delicate sound, coolant and oil smearing against the keys from his fingers.
The doors slammed open, the sound echoing throughout the room. In the doorway stood a disheveled Dr. Iplier with rage radiating off of his skin so much it was almost tangible. His bright eyes found the head ego and he growled.
"What. The fuck. Did you do." The gritted words were almost amusing. and Dark didn't have to turn away from the piano to know that blood was dripping from the doctors' coat to the floor.
"So you found him in time, What a pity. The Host really had my hopes this time." The ringing began to get louder as if trying to drown the Edward out, but not this time, not when Dark had gone this far.
"What the fuck did you do to him? He almost died!"
"I'm well aware doctor-"
"Did you possess him? Hm? Mess with his visions? Tell me you fucking asshole what you did to him-" Edwards' voice had gotten louder, closer and angrier.
"I haven't touched him-"
"Like hell, you didn't!" He must have been a couple feet behind him now, and a twitch of annoyance ran through the dark ego.
"You've seen the damage, everything he did was self-inflicted. Perhaps he wanted to die." It wasn't entirely false, and moreover, it shocked the other into silence. For a moment, Dark thought he would turn around and storm out, but that moment was shattered Edward quickly took a breath and shouted.
"Fuck you! You made him do it!" The twitch of annoyance turned to calm. The Doctor had laid out his own wound and all Dark had to do was rub salt in it.
"The only thing I did was talk." He didn't even turn around. It was the truth. The simple honest truth. something he rarely gave. It was worth it when he heard Dr. Iplier choke. He could imagine his eyes going wide and his jaw slack.
"...Y-You talked him into killing himself?"
"All I did was talk."
"Why?" Dark smiles, a thin lifeless smile. His tilts his head to side glance at the stunned Doctor.
"...To see if I could.”
Pride filled his husk of a body, and he cracked his neck feeling satisfied as a echo of a uncomfortable feeling snapped into nothing.
“Where’s Google?”
As if on cue, the doctors phone rang. Dark couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped.
“Why don’t you run along now? I’m sure Google will be so happy to answer your questions.”
Two things happened with the next moment. One, With a crash, his desk lamp shattered next to his head. Two, footsteps stomped towards the door and slammed it shut.