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. 💜

snarkyowl:

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.

U wanna write more about swap Hosty boy? Because I love my boy. Maybe he gets injured or sick and his friends are all worried mother mode :’D

snarkyowl:

Dr. Iplier is painstakingly gentle as he wraps Host’s wrist, glancing up at him from time to time to make sure he’s still doing alright. Host is much more relaxed than when he first entered, limping and in tears. Now he’s calmed him breathing, cleaned his face, and is waiting on Google and Dark to pick him up from the clinic.
“Thank you,” he rasps as the doctor finishes bandaging him up. His ankle still hurts, but he knows the pain medication should kick in soon. The doctor nods minutely, setting things away or to the side to be put away later. “Your help means a lot to me, Edward.”

The doctor pauses at the use of his first name, but then continues with his movements. Again, he only nods, but Host knows the affect the gratitude has on the recluse of a doctor. Host wishes the doctor wasn’t so firmly closed off from the world, he knows he’s capable of being a good, kind man. Still, the Host will not push him to be more open. If it takes time, then so be it. The Host will give him all the time in the world.
“You’re a very good friend,” it comes out as barely more than a whisper, but the doctor hears it.
“I try.” The first words the doctor has spoken since Host arrived, and Host has to smile.
“You succeed.”

The clinic doors fly open, causing both egos within to flinch. Dark dashes in, Google hot on his trail as they make a b-line for Host.
“Hosty! Oh Host! What happened?” Dark demands, coming to a miraculous stop right in front of Host. He hardly sways when Google’s stop is less elegant and the android ends up crashing into his back.
“The Host would rather not discuss it now, if that’s alright?” Host requests softly, smiling shyly when Dark nods enthusiastically.
“Of course! You don’t have to! Are you alright, though?” Host nods at that, still smiling as Dark gently helps him off of the examining table.
“The Host is going to be fine, Dark. He thanks you for the concern.”

Dark places an affectionate kiss on his cheek that makes Host warble out a laugh, allowing the other ego to pull him into a gentle hold.
“Let’s get you home and settled into bed. I’ll make some soup while you and Google watch a movie. Does that sound good, Hosty?”
“Dark, that sounds perfect.”

As the trio heads out, the doctor watches them go in silence. For the first time in a while, he allows himself a smile.
Host is well cared for.

Pawns

snarkyowl:

[Swap AU]
The Host finally makes his move.

The door creaks open slowly as he stumbles into the house, kicking the door shut behind him. He shrugs off his coat, wrenches his scarf off and tosses it aside. He moves to collapse on the couch before realizing with a startled curse someone is already on the couch.

He clicks on a light and finds himself facing a familiar, eerie figure.

“Host.”
“Chase Brody.”

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