“Author I just- Are you sure about this?” Edward asks, gripping to the sleeve of his flannel. Author heaves a sigh, rolling his eyes as he turns to face Edward.
“You’re being dramatic, I’m not going to die.”
“Please don’t go.” Edward begs, and Author shakes his head while pulling his arm free.
“I’m leaving, Edward. You can’t stop me, but you can wait for me. I’ll come back, okay? I’ll come home.” Author steps closer for a moment to press a kiss onto Edward’s forehead before pulling away. “Stay safe while I’m gone.”He walks away, leaving Edward behind without a second thought.
Author returns to his boyfriend looking half dead, sleep deprived and worn down after what Author knows is too many long hours at the hospital. Edward practically collapses into his arms, nuzzling his face into Author’s chest as the taller man tucks him close.
“Carry me.” Edward mumbles after a few minutes of silent holding, and Author obliges with a soft chuckle. “I missed you.” Edward says next.Author doesn’t return the sentiment, but Edward didn’t expect him to.
Tag: fanfic
Host + Dark. 13, 35. More.👏🏻 Sick. 👏🏻 Host. 👏🏻 Sorrynotsorry.
13. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, you’re safe with me.”
35. “You make me feel safe.”
Host groans miserably from his mound of blankets, and Dark hums sympathetically. They lapse back into silence for a while, but eventually Host’s voice (raspy as it may be) breaks the silence.
“Dark will not let any harm come to the Host while he is ill, yes?”
“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” Dark quietly assures, “you’re safe with me.”Host hums, quiet again until he shifts to face Dark. Dark watches him silently, waiting for the Host to find the words in his feverish state.
“Dark makes the Host feel safe.” Host whispers, and Dark smiles softly.
“What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t?”
17 + 16, Host + Dark, the beginning of the Sick!Host saga. -S!H Anon.
17. “I can’t sleep, can I stay here?”
16. “I’ve got you.”
Dark is reading late into the night when his door cracks open. He hears muffled coughing, a miserable wheeze, a sniffle, and then, “May the Host come in?”
Dark marks his page and sets his book aside, rising with less elegance than he would usually prefer. Before he can ask anything, or even answer Host’s original question, the other ego shuffles in and shuts the door behind him.
“The Host can’t sleep, may he stay here?” He asks, sniffling miserably. Dark takes in the sight before him slowly before nodding mutely. When the Host doesn’t seem to pick up on it like usual, Dark clears his throat.“Of course you can.” He says, watching Host’s unsure steps. Dark realizes that perhaps the sickness is interfering with Host’s narrations and overall sense of everything, which would make navigating anywhere difficult.
“I’ve got you,” Dark says as he reaches out and wraps an arm around Host to support and guide him. Host hums both tiredly and gratefully, leaning into Dark unapologetically as the other man leads him to the bed. Dark gets him into bed, tucks him in, and then heaves a long and weary sigh.
Another sleepless night it is, then.
Sick!Host anon again. (Will I ever stop prompting sickfic for this poor dude? No. No I will not.) 31, 67, “Couldn’ find you,” and 26? (The poor smol bean is /super/ out of it. Dark leaves for two seconds to grab some papers and turns around to find is brother out of bed and staring at him like a lost puppy.)
31. “I missed you.”
67. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
26. “Please don’t go.”
“Couldn’t find you.”
Dark has been watching over Host for a while now, and he’s already finished the first batch of paperwork he brought in with him to work on. Stranded without anything to do, he napped for a while but eventually he knows he needs to go and get more paperwork. He can’t slack off, not at the busiest time of the year.
He stands with a soft grunt, hissing as his joints all complain rather noisily as he goes. He’s smoothing out his suit when a frail hand grabs onto his sleeve and pulls his attention to the ill ego on the bed beside him.
“Host?”
“Please don’t go…”Dark sighs, gently detaching Host’s hand from his sleeve and taking it in his own hand. “I’m not going to be gone long, Host, I just need to grab a few things. Alright?” Host seems to consider his words, narrating softly in a rasped whisper. Finally, he nods his head in agreement and his hand goes slack in Dark’s.
Dark smiles, reaching out to gently sweep some of the hair off of Host’s forehead. Host hums at the cool touch, tilting his head up and forward as if trying to forcibly cool himself down with the chill of Dark’s hand. Dark chuckles at the thought, shaking his head and pulling his hand away.
“I’ll be back in a moment.”
Grabbing everything is taking longer than he expected thanks to some interruptions from the likes of the Jims and Bing. He’s just getting all of the papers neatly stacked together when Host appears in the corner of his eye, He frowns, turning to face the wobbling figure of the man he’s truly coming to call his younger brother at a worrying frequency.
“What are you doing out of bed?” Dark demands gently as he helps Host sit down in the chair behind Dark’s desk. Host pauses for a moment, swallowing before shrugging a bit meekly.
“I missed you and couldn’t find you,” he mutters out eventually. “I didn’t do it on purpose,” he adds after a moment, vaguely motioning to where he’d been standing moments ago. Dark sighs heavily, dropping his head into his hands for a moment to rub his face.“Cecil Judas Tacet, what am I going to do with you?”
“Feed me soup?” Host’s suggestion seems completely and seriously genuine, and that alone is enough to make Dark laugh. Host, fever-ridden and confused, doesn’t seem to understand what’s so funny.Dark will explain it to him later, for now he’s focused on getting his brother back to bed.
Care Giving As Self Care
I was commissioned to write some ABDLiplier with Wilf & the Host, & here it is!
* * *
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Want me to write you something like it, or something completely different?
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I’m cheap, I’m fast, & I’ll write almost anything!
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/ I LOVE IT AND EVERYONE ELSE SHOULD GIVE IT A READ TOO if u like this kinda stuff at least ofc
/ I LOVE IT THO
“Have you ever heard of personal space?” dark and hosty?
Host leans against Dark as he runs his hands over the pages of his book, reading a rather good story. Dark makes a sound in the back of his throat, shifting a bit to readjust and get comfortable.
“Have you ever heard of personal space?” Dark grouches, but Host knows he’s not genuinely upset so he grins cheekily back at Dark.
“The Host has no idea what that is.”Dark rolls his eyes with an amused snort and Host returns to his book. Two brothers and two stories, one happy afternoon.
“I need help.” “I’m not okay” (smth for Host and someone?)
Wilford has just finished packing up after a rather successful interview when he hears shuffling behind him. He blinks, turning and jumping in surprise to find Host standing in the studio looking rather lost.
“Hosty-boy! What are you doing here at this hour?” Wilford barks out cheerily, hopping off the recording stage to make his way over to Host. He slows when he notices Host’s body trembling, his hands fumbling with a button on his coat.
“Host is- The Host needs- he is-” The Host stammers, and the more he does the deeper Wilford frowns. “I need help,” Host says with a sudden sob, “I’m not okay.”Wilford lunges forward to pull him into a hug as the Host’s legs give out beneath him, a sob wrenching its way out of the smaller man. Wilford holds him close, holds him tight.
“What happened, Host?”
“The Host has not slept, he has not eaten- his visions and narrations are tormenting him.” Host admits, voice trembling with his tears. Wilford frowns, gently rocking from side to side as he holds Host as close as he can.
“They’re getting bad again?” Wilford asks, and it seems like a dumb question but Host nods his head anyway.“Horrible.”
“Well, good ole Wilford Warfstache has just the thing for that.” Wilford grins, wrapping his arm around Host’s shoulders and suddenly they’re in Wilford’s bedroom.
Host reels when he realizes he’s no longer under Wilford’s arm, but instead a giant teddy bear’s. He tries to summon up the strength to use his narrations to find Wilford, but stops the moment he hears a soft crash and the man cursing.“BLANKETS,” Wilford shouts, crashing down onto the bed beside Host. Host lets out a startled grunt, clutching the giant bear beside him closer. Wilford huffs out a doofy laugh, and Host can’t help but shakily smile in response. Wilford is adorable, how could he not smile?
“We are making a fort…?” Host asks hesitantly, and Wilford hums approvingly.
“Of course we are! If you’re active your mind won’t have the time to turn on you! I’ve even invited your favorite people aside from myself!”
“Dark, Doctor, and Google?” Host questions softly, and Wilford nods so excitedly Host can hear it.“Indeed!”
Host smiles, wiping the blood off of his cheeks.
He’s not okay now, but with his friends’ help he knows he will be.
“You’re being dramatic.” (okay but iplier to author? ) ( also all these prompts are so great for just. author being more seriously hurt and having to go to iplier (“Not this time!” “You’re lying!” “Get your hands off of me!” “I don’t need you.”))
“Writey Jim is very hurt!” Cries one of the Jims upon crashing unceremoniously into Dr. Iplier’s office. The man shrieks (in a mostly dignified manner) in terrified surprise, jumping out of his chair to face them. The two Jims stand just inside his room, one still in the doorway with the other properly crouched down inside. The doctor observes the both of them before shaking his head to make way for clear thinking and responding.
“Who?”
“Writey Jim!” One Jim wails, the other nodding mutely but emphatically behind him. Doc’s brain stutters as it tries to recall who the fuck they’re talking about, whether it’s really just another Jim or one of the other-
“Author?” He asks disbelievingly, and the two immediately point at him and nod.“Yes! Author Jim!” Shouts the crouching one before he bites his lip. “He is very hurt! Doctor Jim needs to help him!” Doc nods his head a bit, furrowing his brow.
“Of course, of course just- I need- shit- fuck- I need supplies.” The two Jims make various odd whining sounds as though the idea of him taking longer is that concerning, and with a chill Doctor Iplier realizes it could be that concerning.
“What condition is he in, Jims? How bad?” The doctor asks as he brushes past them and into the clinic to begin gathering things together.
“We think it was a shooty! We need to investimigate more but Author Jim was hurt so bad we knew we had to act fast to save his life!” Jim states firmly, and Doc Iplier nods his head.
“Right, okay. Fuck- alright. Lead the way.”
Prompt for @emptynarration
Tags: @caffeine-eater @authorsathenaeum @tiny-yan-an @darkstache-iplier @redraspberrycats @holyshitsnakesandspace @blue-greenstylinson @cookieface678 @bing-iplier @storm337
Prompt 49: “Let’s have a baby.”
“How do humans do it?” Blue grumbled, thunking the book down onto table with a huff. “How can they say ‘let’s have a baby,’ and then just go and procreate?”
“The Host doesn’t believe it works that way,” the Host tilted his head, tapped his fingers against the table as he thought about it. “Statistically speaking-”
“I know the statistics.”
A smirk, and the Host was leaning forward on his elbows. “Then why is Blue asking?”
“Because it is ridiculous,” Blue scoffed. “The chances of successful procreation the instant the human couple in question decide that they would like an infant are hilariously low. This sorry excuse for literature does not illustrate how many attempts it would take for the human female to become impregnated.”
The Host chuckled, then reached across the table to take the book, smoothing down the pages. “The amount of intercourse required is not a major plot point. The child is what’s important here.”
“The plot is absurd and this book is badly written.”
The Host slid the book back across the table. “The Host requests that Blue continue reading.”
Blue sighed, the sound closer to that of a soft hum than an actual sigh. He took the book. “Of course, love.”
okay but you know what pain i need? swap bab hosty dying. all alone. he wished he wouldve at least had one of his friends with him, heck even wilford wouldve been better than dying alone. and for his luck, the lil group of friends he has are of course the ones who find him. to make it even more painful, host hears them coming before he’s gone. even the doc, who he wished he couldve told he liked him more than he thought. 💜
He’s already forgotten how it all happened when he really begins slipping. He’s forgotten how he ended up here, bloodied and in pain and so, so alone. He tried to get help, he recalls that much, but everything else is beyond him. Host wonders if this is his fate, to die alone. After spending his entire life as the Host surrounded by a family, after so much time dedicated to keeping them happy, his fate was to die without any of them.
Hell, even Wilford would be a comfort now.He whimpers against the pain, feebly warbles out another cry for help that goes unheard. Silence replies, gentle but constricting. He tries not to cry, but he ends up crying anyway. His tears run hot down his face as his strength wanes, leaving him with every shed tear.
The Host, in his very last moments, hears them. Off in the distance, their screams.
He even hears the doctor, the ever so quiet doctor, yelling for him.As he goes, he regrets never telling the doctor how he felt.
As the doctor falls to his knees by the limp body of the Host, he regrets the very same thing.
emptynarration 