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.”
Tag: / how could you
“ I’m dying. ” (because I love angst, I LOVE GHOST LET’S DO SOME MORE GHOST)
I combined this one with one of the other ones you sent me! I really enjoyed writing this.
Warnings ahead for angst, death, blood, and violence.
Tags: @caffeine-eater @authorsathenaeum @tiny-yan-an @darkstache-iplier @redraspberrycats @holyshitsnakesandspace @blue-greenstylinson @cookieface678 @bing-iplier @storm337 @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @pixelenchanter
Prompt 26/15: “I’m dying”/ “Don’t die on me- please.”
The distance between them was filled with static and the heavy stench of blood.
“Host.” The name came with the acrid taste of gunpowder, souring his mouth as he scrambled to the fallen man. “Host!”
He could barely feel the sharp pebbles digging into his knees as he slid to a crouch, could barely hear the rip of fabric as he wrenched away the Host’s shirt with an almost brutal strength so he could get to the bullet wound.
emptynarration 