oooohhh you evil
Host knew it wasn’t real love. But still he was coughing up flower petals. Black and red, sometimes some pink and truly blue ones. He knew Disgusting was just using him, and didn’t have any feelings towards him in the slightest. Not any true and genuine ones at least.
But Host also was desperate for any sort of feeling of usefulness. Something he feared -being useless- and thus tried his hardest to cling to anyone who gave him purpose. It was, in a sense, stockholme syndrome.



