
/ once again i tried doing a thang cus of music

/ once again i tried doing a thang cus of music
Host was cold. He was always cold. He was underweight and had anemia, of course he was cold. So it was no wonder he always wore his coat, huddled in it as if he was freezing. Now that it was approaching winter, he was freezing. He knew everyone would look weird at him if he wore hats or something alike inside the house. So he didn’t, and continued to be cold.
But besides Host, there was someone else who was cold. Dark. Not having a heartbeat, nor any other working organs, his body temperature was much colder. It was why he was never hot in his suits, even in hot weather. He wasn’t as affected by the cold weather, but it was getting pretty cold even for him.
It was late in the evening, as everyone was already getting to bed. Dark strolled to Host’s broadcasting room, wearing a thick fluffy sweater, and carrying another. He smiled lightly at Host when he entered, being silent as he listened to the end of the other man’s show. Once he was done, Dark spoke up before Host could.
“I got a warm sweater for you. Come on.”, he said, giving the sweater to Host. He helped him out of his coat, and then into the sweater. He gently took Host’s hand, knowing the other was touch-starved anyways. He always was, so he tried to provide comfort.
He brought Host to his office, having a cuddly place by a large window. He had prepared lots of blankets and pillows, and hot chocolate.
Host smiled softly as he murmured his narrations, letting Dark pull him into the little nest he had built. Dark let Host cuddle into his chest, wrapping a blanket around the two of them. He gave the Host a mug of hot chocolate, and grabbed his own, drinking in silence. It was comfortable like this, though.
Host was always cooped up in his room. He sometimes left for food, of course, but otherwise he didn’t interact with the other egos. The only one he talked to a lot was Google, since he helped him with his broadcasting equipment and such, but it was just work.
He could feel the loneliness heavy on his shoulders. Craving another person’s touch. Whenever somehow someone managed to brush their hands against his, shivers rolled down his spine. He craved touches, any human contact. But he wasn’t exactly friends with anyone, and he didn’t like to go to anyone either. He didn’t even let Edward help him out with his bandages, other than getting fresh ones.
It got too much for him, sometime. Sometime meaning in the middle of the night, after his broadcast was over, and he was drowning in the loneliness of not having anyone. So he got up and left, to wander through the halls. There was no one he could go to at this time of night, there was no one he could go to any time of the day.
It was Dark who was in the kitchen, making coffee. Unable to sleep, like many nights. He looked somewhat surprised seeing Host, though not really.
“Darkiplier watched the Host shuffle into the kitchen, not knowing what to expect. The Host rarely slept well, Darkiplier was aware, though he hadn’t expected to see him here.”, Host was mumbling his narrations as always.
“The Host is incredibly touch-starved, and is in search of someone… anyone to help him out. He is aware he has no friends to speak of, and he has no idea what he had hoped to find wandering the halls either. As Host talks, he doesn’t notice Darkiplier approaching him, only when his arms wrap around him does he-”, Host stopped talking as he felt Dark hug him.
Host was smaller than Dark, noticeably so. Slowly, he leaned against the cold man, starting to tremble. He hadn’t been touched since he became the Host, he was pretty sure. Being hugged felt incredible, and he clung to Dark like a helpless child, taking shaking breaths.
Dark gently rubbed Host’s back, leaning his cheek against Host’s hair. Silently holding him, comforting him and giving him what he so desperately craved.
Batch one of my 25 scribblings I did during the time I had to stay up through the night at the airport
Featuring Dark, many eyes face, Host with a sewn shut third eye, more Host, some bad fullbody scribblings
I uh, enjoyed this.
Tags: @authorsathenaeum @caffeine-eater @tiny-yan-an @darkstache-iplier @redraspberrycats @holyshitsnakesandspace @cookieface678 @blue-greenstylinson @bing-iplier @storm337 @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @pixelenchanter @itsjustkyss
Prompt 94: “I won’t lose you too.”
From an android’s perspective, the Host was to be admired.
He was always calm, always composed. He never let his emotions get in the way of what had to be done.
Until now.
Blue had never seen him act like this. Had never heard him speak above a mutter.
Until now, as he threw open the library door to find shelves tipped over and books scattered all over the floor.
And Dark, backing up, clutching one arm to his side, his nose bleeding.
He was yelling, his teeth bared, but his voice was drowned out by the rise and fall of the Host’s.
“Dark is going to kill them all. He is going to-” the Host’s voice ebbed and flowed, rose so high in pitch it made Blue’s head buzz and his vision waver. Still, he jolted into action, lunging for the Host.
“The Host senses- turns-” the Host swung around just as Blue reached him, the flow of his narrations wobbling as he raised the bat he had clutched in his clammy, white-knuckled grip. “He swings it and strikes-”
Blue held up his arms, bracing himself and closing his eyes, just as the bat arced down. But there was no heavy thunk of aluminum hitting metal. No sudden pain.
When he opened his eyes, the bat was less than an inch away from connecting. It trembled in the Host’s grip.
“Google Blue,” the Host croaked. Dark red blood carved heavy, jagged tracks down his face, criss-crossing over the thin, blue veins that stood out starkly from his almost translucent skin.
“Host.” Blue lowered his arms, then reached for the bat. It slid easily from the Host’s grip, and the Host made no movement to resist or protest when the android threw it aside.
He did, however, flinch when it clattered against the wood of some fallen shelf across the library.
“Google Blue,” he repeated, and Blue saw him sway unsteadily on his feet, knew he would fall before he did.
He was there to catch him as he crumpled into his arms and together they sank to the floor.
“You require medical treatment,” Blue glanced up, over the Host’s shoulder, at Dark. “You need to go see Dr. Iplier.”
Dark’s nostrils flared and his jaw clenched and for a second Blue thought he’d lash out, but after a moment he stiffened and nodded and disappeared in a swirl of black.
When he was gone, Blue moved to get the Host to his feet but the Host gave a small whine of protest, tightening his fingers around the fabric of Blue’s shirt.
“Blue stays.” It was barely audible, barely there after so much strenuous use. “The Host doesn’t want to lose him too.”
“Host-” Blue had no clue as to what he was talking about, but nonetheless he wrapped his arms around the Host, let him cling and mutter and bleed red all over the bright blue of his shirt.
Tried to offer what comfort he could.
“I have never seen such gorgeous eyes.” Dark said softly and held his boyfriend close to him. The Host was taken aback, and pulls away, still laying on the bed but moving to be more on his own half.
“I…? I have such gorgeous eyes?” He asked softly. “I don’t have…”
Dark nuzzled their noses lightly against each other, sighing softly. “I think your eyes are gorgeous. I do… You have your own kind of eyes… and it’s amazing and beautiful.”
The Host said nothing, He cuddled, a soft blush on his cheeks as he did. This… this was the nicest thing anyone had said to him.
I don’t know if this turned out as well as I wanted it to, but here it is!
Tags: @caffeine-eater @authorsathenaeum @tiny-yan-an @darkstache-iplier @redraspberrycats @holyshitsnakesandspace @blue-greenstylinson @cookieface678 @bing-iplier @storm337 @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @pixelenchanter @itsjustkyss
Prompt 40: “I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you.”
The woods were silent. No wind rattled the gnarled branches that reached out toward him, dragged at his suit as if in effort to seize him, to drag him into the depths and keep him there forever. No animals rustled about in the underbrush. The dead leaves and branches littering the thin, winding dirt path did not crunch under his feet.
The woods were gloomy, shrouded in a black that shouldn’t have been present at one in the afternoon.
Still, Dark had little issue navigating the dense forest, having known since the beginning that the Author’s woods mimicked his every mood and whim.
The Author was hurting. The Author was furious.
And, Dark noted with distaste as the thick stench of blood rolled over him like a wave, it seemed the Author was also throwing a petty tantrum.
His suspicions were confirmed as he broke through the treeline, stepped into the clearing that housed the Author’s cabin, and saw the bodies.
Dozens of them, sprawled over the grass and leaves, all of them pale, all of them unmoving. Many of their heads had been bashed in, but a few sported wounds in other places. Dark had to guess that those were the ones that had fought back.
The Author stood in the center of his massacre, examining his work like an artist appraising a masterpiece. He wore nothing but a pair of ripped jeans, a t-shirt that might’ve been white had it not been completely soaked through with blood, and a twisted grin.
“Do you like it, Dark?” He asked dreamily, “I did it for you.”
“Quite a gift, Author,” Dark remarked, flicking his fingers dismissively at the carnage before folding his hands neatly behind his back. “But you and I both know a few corpses dropped at my feet won’t fix anything.”
“It will if it’s the right corpse.” The Author tightened his grip on his bat, his grin morphing into an ugly snarl just before he lunged.
But Dark was quick. Just before the bat- blood-covered aluminum, flecked with bits of gore- connected, his hand shot up and seized it.
All he had to do was squeeze and the aluminum crumpled like paper. “Pathetic.”
The Author roared and drew back a fist, but Dark blocked that too, stepping to the side and snatching his wrist, smiling when he heard delicate bones snap and the Author gasped in pain.
Dark forced him to his knees. “What do you want, Author? Why are you wasting my time?”
The Author pried at Dark’s hand, but his grip was like a vise. He wasn’t letting go.
When he met Dark’s gaze, his black eyes glittered with pain and when he grimaced, his teeth were stained a glossy crimson.
“I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you!” He wailed, and Dark could almost hear the tears in his voice. Could almost hear the loss and the pain and the anguish.
But not quite.
He leaned in close- close enough to touch, close enough to kiss- and whispered, “but I was.”
Then he released him, nudged him aside like he was nothing. Because he was.
He spun on one meticulously polished heel and retreated into the woods.
The Author’s eyes burned into his back long after the cabin disappeared from view.
(Oooh good one!) Send me cute prompts!
“Do you think it’s possible that I… might be… pregnant?”
The question threw Wilford off completely. “What? Pregnant?” He asked, confused. “I didn’t think you could… I mean you’ve told me… You know the whole… being… dead thing…” His voice got quieter as he kept speaking.
Dark looked up at her partner and nodded. “I thought that too, Wil but…” She ran a hand over her stomach, which had gained a tiny, barely noticeable bulge. Aside from the small bump, Dark had also been getting sick more. “I think… I think it’s happened. I think I’m pregnant.”
Wilford’s face was a flurry of emotions, but ultimately it rested on quiet joy and serene excitement. He walked over and held Dark from behind. His hands trailed over her stomach, and he closed his eyes. It would be so nice to have a child with her. To be a dad, watch the little kiddo grow up…
“Does this mean you’ll have an increased sex drive?” He asked with mischievous grin.
Dark laughed, her laugh light and reminding Wil of twittering birds. “That never ceasing sexual appetite is what got us into this predicament in the first place!”
“I’ll take that as a thank you.” Wilford laughed and kissed her cheek. “A child…”
“Yes, a child…” She nodded. “Do you… are you okay with being a father?”
“More than okay.” He beamed. “I am so excited. I can’t wait to tell everyone!” And just like that he took off.
Dark, with a found shake of her head, smiled and followed the dolt, her dolt, out of the room, one hand tenderly resting on her stomach.
(gosh I love Darkstache a little too much) Send me cute prompts!
“If you use up all the hot water one more time I’m going to ban you to the couch for a month.” Dark’s anger was very, very real. Wilford looked up from their bed to see his fiance, with a towel wrapped around his waist. Water dripped from Dark’s hair onto the floor, and Wilford pursed his lips.
“You’re making a mess.” He said.
“You’re making a mess of this marriage!” Dark shouted in retaliation. “You know I like to take hot showers after work. And yet, and yet! Every day this week when I’ve come home, the water is hot for maybe two minutes and then it turns to liquid ice.”
“Technically isn’t all water liquid ice no matter the temperature?” Wilford asked with a shit eating grin.
Oh, that did it.
Without moving, his shell cracking and aura flickering, Dark used his powers to pin Wilford up against the wall. Wilford laughed as it happened and smirked as he watched Dark stalk towards him. “Listen here you pink idiot,” Dark told him fiercely. “If you think I’m going to spend the rest of my life taking cold showers, you are gravely mistaken. Shower in the morning from now on, or perish.”
“You know Dark, there is one way to fix this.” Wilford’s voice was a purr. “We could shower together.”
Dark glared at him, but let him drop to the floor. He went over to their closet, murmuring a quiet, if not bashful, “I’ll think about it.”