Summary: What if… they weren’t always characters? (Light Host/Dr. Iplier) Enjoy~
Dr. Edward Ibbot was a phenomenal surgeon and doctor, and he prided himself on this. He worked hard for his degree, and was constantly trying to learn ways to improve his practice. Every false diagnosis was a learning experience. Every failure was a new beginning. He was a sweet, kind man who kept to himself most days. Tall, slender, not muscular with dazzling green eyes and a stellar smile. He was perfect.
The doctor had been listening to soft guitar music while looking over patient records when his office door opened. Thanks to the night, it was harder to see the person move. All he had was his desk lamp, which barely shined bright enough for him to see the records. “Hello?” He asked quietly. “Who’s there?”
The figure flipped on the overhead switch, and Dr. Ibbot jumped to his feet. He gaped at the man, a generous term in his in opinion, for what stood in front of him looked hellish. Completely gray skin, with a flickering red and blue aura surrounding him. He cracked his neck, and Dr. Ibbot winced at the noise.
“That’s not natural!” Dr. Ibbot’s fear turned to worry. “Are you okay? What’s wrong with you? Can I help you?”
The man chuckled, the noise layered and unsettling. “You can help me by holding still.” He said flatly.
Before Dr. Ibbot could ask what he meant, the room was engulfed in a monochromatic colorscheme, and the furniture disappeared. It was just the man and the doctor. Dr. Ibbot didn’t get the chance to run. The man, no, the demon began to tear at his skin, at his face, organs, all of it. Changing him. Molding him.
Dr. Ibbot screamed, and screamed louder as the demon reached into his throat, changing how he sounded. He didn’t understand. How could he?
“You’re still too tall.” The demon hissed, and Dr. Ibbot felt his body compress on itself. “Your name is Dr. Iplier, do you understand?” Ibbot, now Iplier, didn’t have a choice. He nodded. “Good. Now, Dr. Iplier, tend to your practice.”
Then everything went black for the good doctor.
~
Dr. Iplier was a joke of a doctor. Wrong, no helpful insights, nothing. He was a joke. The others laughed at him, constantly telling them they were dying when he actually wanted to say Ed had high blood sugar or Bim was at risk for anemia, if he didn’t have it. But he couldn’t say it. What came out of his mouth was rubbish.
Dr. Iplier looked at his face in a hand mirror he had once again. He remembered everything, he remembered who he’d been before. He remembered who he was. He wondered if the others did.
He jumped at a knock on his door. Dr. Iplier put away the hand mirror. “Come in.”
“The Host opens the door and walks in. He closes the door before walking to sit in the chair next to Dr. Iplier.”
Dr. Iplier smiled. “Time to change your bandages already?” He asked.
“No… That’s not why I came.” The Host sighed. “Doctor… You’re not the only one who remembers.”
Dr. Iplier’s mouth fell open. He had so many questions, none of them coming out.
“No, you can’t talk about it. No one else can, but me… it’s in my character to have this ability. Dark hates it.” The Host explained, and took Dr. Iplier’s hand. Dr. Iplier felt his eyes sting, but tears wouldn’t break free. “I know your name is Edward Ibbot. And you are a good doctor. I wouldn’t trust anyone else with my care.”
Dr. Iplier lunged forward and hugged the Host. He wanted to say thank you. He wanted to talk about his old practice, his old home, everything. All that came out was a small, shaky, “I’m sorry, you’re dying.”
“You left me alone.”
“Why does everyone always leave me alone?”
I hope you enjoy this dude!!!
—
The grass they were sitting on was still wet from rain storm earlier, but Author insisted on having the picnic that day, regardless of the fact that the sun was lowering in the sky and the rain clouds had barely cleared. He said it was a rare occurrence to have a day where he wasn’t busy, and that it had to be today. Edward didn’t really mind. Any time he got to spend with Author was a blessing, especially time where it wasn’t cut short.
Author had packed their food in a wicker basket, and walked with him into the middle of some flowery meadow in the middle of nowhere. It was peaceful there and butterflies flew amongst the flowers, but the grass was wet.
They were drinking honeyed tea from a thermos Author had brought, relishing in the sweet taste and the silence around them. Author hadn’t said much, and Edward had kept silent. It was better than any words they could say, especially as Edward laid his head on Author’s shoulder. Author ran his fingers through his hair, tugging it just a little. Edward quietly chuckled, playfully nibbling Author’s neck before settling back down on his shoulder.
It was when they ran out of tea that Edward finally spoke.
“What’s the occasion? I mean, what makes today so special besides the fact you don’t have your ‘work’? Am I forgetting something?”
Author smiled, and Edward felt his heart skip. He hadn’t seen that smile in so, so long. Soft, without showing teeth, a real, perfect smile.
“I take my lovely boyfriend out on a picnic, and he’s asking me what makes it so special? There doesn’t have to be a reason,” he spoke with a kiss to Edward’s head.
Possessively, Edward wrapped his arm around Author’s waist. He was smiling, they were both smiling.
“I didn’t think you cared about me,” Edward admitted, “You left me every morning, all alone in bed-“
“-which I’ll never do again. I promise you that. Dear prince.”
Edward sat up, brows furrowing. Something was wrong, it had to be. Author smile fell away. He sighed, and it carried the weight of a million words.
“I heard you talk to me when you thought I was asleep. You said, you asked me: ‘why does everyone always leave me’? That’s what you said. I’ve learned what that feels like. Having someone-“ Author wiped his eyes “-something leave you. At least now I do.” Author wiped his eyes again. It was the first time that Edward had ever seen him cry.
Whatever cool, suave confidence Author had had been replaced by something else. Something warm. Like the sunset, now flaming in front of them in a tapestry of colors.
“We should probably go home-“ Edward started, Author silencing him with a heated kiss. Something had definitely changed.
“We should, shouldn’t we?” Author whispered, pulling Edward into his lap and making him squeak with surprise. Soon enough, they were a heap in the grass and flowers, laughing, touching, and loving.
—
The next morning, Edward opened his eyes as the sun climbed over the blossom of a purple wildflower. He squinted at the light- no, that wasn’t the sun, that was a lighter. A lighter, held in Author’s hand under his black-bound journal.
He didn’t move as he watched the journal ignite, Author studying it as charred paper began to flake away, fire crawling and consuming the entirety of the journal. Stories, words, ink, paper. All eaten and destroyed. Then, all that was left in his hands was still-warm ash. He rubbed it on his face, his shirt, into his hair.
After all the ash was rubbed away, he turned back to Edward. The doctor shut his eyes as quickly as he could, every muscle in his body tense with worry until Author joined him again. Curling up right by him, his head tucked into his chest and ash covered hands resting on his back.
Something had changed within him, but Edward didn’t mind as long as it meant they could spend every morning like this.
Edward was the last to leave the clinic, per usual. And just as he was locking up, he spotted a lumpy silhouette stumbling its way toward him.
As it passed under a streetlight, it wasn’t a single person at all but two.
One of them was suspiciously familiar. And he carried a bat, using the tip to occasionally give the second silhouette a harsh shove.
“Edward!” The Author called out, and Edward sighed internally. He didn’t want to deal with the Author now. Not after a twelve-hour clinical rotation. He just wanted to sleep.
Still, he forced himself to answer. “Hey, Author. What’re you doing here so late? I was just about to head home-”
“I love you, please don’t go.”
“Don’t walk out that door.”
“I thought things were going great.”
“Don’t you love me?”
Mercy me this is really late so I apologize but I hope you like it!!!
—
For the first time in months, Edward awoke to the sound of Author muttering in his sleep. Even as the sun crested over fluffy clouds, he didn’t stir. He sat up, leaning over just a little to get a glimpse of Author’s face. Light poured through the windows, dancing across the sharp angles of Author’s face. The gauze bandage covering his cheek didn’t take away from his beauty- no, it added to it. It made him look softer. Younger.
Edward traced his fingers over Author’s face, brushing his cheekbone with his thumb, keeping all his touches as gentle and soft as he could. It was nice to see Author at peace. Unfamiliar, but nice. Edward smiled as Author’s mumbling quieted down a little. Brushed a thumb over his chapped lower lip.
“You should stay with me,” Edward listened to unlistening ears, “you should sleep the day away with me. Don’t leave the bed. Don’t walk out that door. Stay with me. Please?”
Author shifted, Edwards hand limply hitting the sheets. He laid back down, facing Author, never once closing his eyes. He savored the moment like it was a chocolate in his mouth, and slammed his eyes shut when he felt Author begin to stir.
“Prince. I know you’re awake.” Author purred. Edward opened his eyes, studying the way the light played on his bare chest.
“Good morning, Author,” he groggily responded. Author smiled. Got out of bed. Edward reached for him, even though couldn’t help but admire Author as he picked his clothes off of the floor.
“Do you have to go?” Edward asked. Author froze, huffing.
“Yes, I do.”
“Why? Why do you always leave?”
“Because I have things I have to do. They’re important.”
Edward bit his lip to keep himself from saying something he’d regret. Silently, he watched him dress. Grab his bat, and go to the door. Edward felt something churn in him, and wrapped a blanket around his waist, crossing the room to wrap his arms around Author.
“Don’t go. I’ll miss you so, so much.”
He sighed. “I come back every night.”
“But I don’t want you only in the night. I want you in the morning, the afternoon. I want to cuddle and watch movies and- and do normal couple things. We’ve been dating for almost a year, it’s… it’s all I’m asking of you.”
“Don’t you love me?”
Edward took a step back.
“What? Of course I do-“
“Then let me do what I need to do. I’ll be back at 9.”
He quickly gave Edward a chaste kiss, then the door slammed shut. Edward kicked the door, then cursed and clutched his foot in pain. He wound up back in bed, blankets in a messy pile, holding his own hand.
—
The bandages were heavy with blood as Edward unraveled them from around Host’s head, then swiftly replacing them with new ones. Without the bandage, he could see his soft cheeks, the heavy scarring- so unlike Author that he wondered if they were actually the same person. They were, though. The way that Host kissed was too familiar for him to be someone else.
“The Host thought things were going great,” he spoke, oddly plain, “he thought his eyes were actually getting better.”
Edward smiled. Author was always impatient. Not all had changed.
“It’ll take some time to heal. You really did a number on yourself, pumpkin.”
Host’s face reddened with a blush, an open, pretty thing that didn’t seem like it belonged in their room, their bed. It had been only a month since Author- Host- had gauged out his own eyes, but already he was back in his bed again. Not that Edward minded. Now, he was held in the night, woken by soft snores come morning.
They were in bed, about to sleep right now, but the blood dripping down his face… postponed things.
“The Host feels like he should be better now. He’s still talking in third person.”
“You need to give yourself time.”
Host slumped. Edward stood, bloody bandages still in hand, but suddenly a hand grabbed his wrist.
“Doctor- Edward. Prince. The Host- I- I love you. Please don’t go.”
“I’m not leaving. Not ever. Just throwing something away.” The grip on his wrist loosened, and Edward felt something warm and pretty bubble up in his chest. Being wanted was nice. He tossed the bandages in the trash, and practically lept back into bed with Host.
Arms were around him almost instantly, chapped, familiar kisses pressing all over his face. Edward giggled and tried to return them, face now as red as Host’s.
Eventually, they tired themselves out, and Edward shut his eyes, knowing that when it’s morning, he’ll be in the arms of the man he’s always loved.
“You left me alone.”
“I can’t help but blame you for this.”
I’m sorry it took so long! School and other projects have been keeping me busy!
—
Edward couldn’t sleep. There he lay, warm and safe in Author’s arms, but he couldn’t even will himself to close his eyes. He stared at the wall, listening as Author quietly murmured in his sleep. The words never seemed to stop for him. He was always writing, always speaking, even in his dreams. And Edward laid there, awake, wishing there was silence.
The day had been a long, tough one, and rest usually came easy those days, so why couldn’t he sleep? Shutting his eyes led to nothing. He wanted to shift about, but Author’s arms kept him securely there.
“I can’t help but blame you for this,” he whispered at Author, “Maybe your arms are too warm, and that’s why I can’t sleep.”
Author continued murmuring, oblivious to the world around him. Edward sighed, wishing it was just a yawn, and that he could go to sleep. The day had been long, and he wanted nothing but to rest, to fall asleep in his lover’s arms that were squeezing almost uncomfortably tight around him.
“What is it with you?” He couldn’t help but whisper at him, “You left me alone all day, but now, you won’t let me go? You left me alone.”
The dreamy murmuring continued, unaffected by Edward’s silent questions. He almost wished Author was awake, so maybe he could get an explanation to why he was left alone until the sun set and he went to bed. Why he wouldn’t listen, constantly obsessed with whatever story he had been writing. Why he would ignore him, but always sleep with him. He turned at an uncomfortable angle, looking at Authors sleeping face, murmuring lips.
Did he love him too much?
The thought shocked him out of whatever fatigue he had. Of course he loves Author, they wouldn’t be dating if he didn’t. He got him roses, bandages, kissed him, loved him in ways he had never loved anyone else before-
But is that too much? Author was a good man, a loving man, and Edward knew he loved him more than anything, just like how he loved him. More than anything. Sacrificing anything, doing anything, for him. Would Author do the same, though?
Edward turned his glance away from Author’s sleeping form. There was no way he was going to sleep now with the violent maelstrom of thoughts in his mind, buzzing like wasps. Author was holding him. A part of Edward wanted to relax into it, another part wanted to leave him like all the times Author had left him to wake up alone.
He split the difference, laying completely still and staring at the wall until the sun came up. His eyes were closed, thoughts focused only on the sharp question that had been poking at him all night. Finally, finally Author moved, unwinding his arms from Edward, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up. His heart sunk through the floor, when all of a sudden, there was the feeling of soft lips on his cheek.
“I’ll see you later, dear prince.”
He heard Author move about the room, gathering his things, the metal of his bat, the paper of his journal, all tucked away. The door open, then shut. Slowly, Edward brought a hand to his cheek and sprawled out on the empty bed. Now, sleep came easy to him. His question was answered.
I’m gonna do Dr. Iplierst for this one since you didn’t specify characters 🙂
Title: Oozing Tears
Still as a statue, he sat there. Sweat shone on his skin, and dark strands of hair mingled with gold to contrast his pale forehead.
He cried.
He cried, but not regular tears. His tears were tears of blood, carving jagged tracks down his cheeks, dripping off his chin to dot sterile, white hospital gown, to stain sterile, white bedding.
He didn’t so much as twitch when Dr. Iplier approached, concern etched in his eyes.
“Author?” He asked quietly, raising a hand to pull down his surgical mask before reaching to prod at the Author’s ruined eyes. “Author, can you hear me?”
No response. More tears oozed from his sockets.
He hadn’t responded in days.
Dr. Iplier sighed and brushed the Author’s hair back from his forehead before pressing a kiss to the clammy skin. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
AU WHERE THE GOOFY EGOS ARE HUMANS AND THE SERIOUS EGOS ARE THEIR GUARDIAN ANGELS!!!!
:00000!!!!!!
Dark is Wilford’s long suffering Angel who basically is the only reason Wilford hasn’t gotten caught or severely hurt.
Bim trained under Dark and has just been assigned as Silver’s Angel and sees a lot of similarities between his tutor and his guardee……and may be a little bit smitten with him
Jims are not assigned to anyone but they are mostly means of communiication between Angels
King is assigned to Chase and masquerades as a human to watch over him….and also play with the squirrels
Bing. Right. Bing, is such a klutz that he’s watched over by four Angels. Oliver usually watches him, Red has an eye out, as does Green, but Google is more of a delegater.
MARE IS MAD’S ANGEL AND YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE. he’s more like the little devil saying “Do it.”
those are all I can think of right now
*inhale* this iS AMAZING HOLY F U C K
Some people don’t have an Angel. They have a devil. They’re like a Guardian Devil but they’re more likely to break the rules to protect them. And maybe a little less hung up on ‘being nice’
Dr Iplier’s devil is the Host
Marvin’s devil is Anti
Colonel William’s devil is JJ
Phantom’s devil is the shadow man
I LOVE THIS
Mark had one. Nobody knows if she was an Angel or a Devil. They just know she lost her life.
They smol
(I didn’t know how else to show them to you)
Sharing this over here because more people need to see this wonderful, brilliant, fantastic fanart that Squishy did based!!!
emptynarration 