Tag: the host

“I won’t let you.” “Shouldn’t you be with him?” “Please don’t do this.” / cus of that one sick host fic, how about some sick host actually getting hurt while dark isnt around?

snarkyowl:

It’s late and Dark is exhausted as he makes his way down to Dr. Iplier’s clinic. Papers in hand, he runs a hand through his hair and knocks on the doctor’s office door. There’s a pause before the silence is filled by a grunted, “one second,” and some shuffling. Dark waits as patiently as he can for the doctor to finally open the door, eyes blankly set on said door.
“Doctor,” Dark says as the door opens, shoving the stack of papers at the other man. “The bills for the clinic.” 

Doc accepts the papers with a frown and a raised brow, looking from them to Dark for a moment before speaking. “Where’s Cecil? Shouldn’t you be with him?” 
Dark frowns, shaking his head slowly. “No, no. I left him with Google.”
“You left the Host with someone very easily distracted? Not to mention he’s sick and dead-set on following you everywhere.” The doctor sounds disapproving, and Dark forces himself not to roll his eyes.
“Doctor I am certain they’re both fine. Now, I’ll be going. Goodnight.” Dark leaves without waiting for the doctor’s reply, hands running over his suit to try and calm his mind. 

When he returns to the room he left Google and Host in, he finds Google rebooting and Host nowhere to be seen. Damn Edward for being right, Dark thinks bitterly as he turns on his heel and leaves the room. He makes a call to the other Googles to start looking for the Host on the security cameras, ignoring them when they ask why it is they have to find Host at all. 
I shouldn’t have left him. I’m his brother, I should be watching him at all times when he’s ill. Dark’s thoughts don’t treat him well, but he doesn’t have time to wallow in self pity. His brother needs him.

He finally finds the Host outside, dazed and rapidly narrating on the ground. Dark curses to himself, moving over and kneeling down in front of the other ego.
“Host?” 
“Please don’t do this-” Host whispers, and Dark frowns in confusion. 
“Don’t do what? Host, you aren’t in the right mind. We need to go back in and get you back to bed-”
“I won’t let you.” Host says next, and Dark watches in dismay as Host throws a poorly aimed and very feeble punch at him. There’s silence, Host stills and quiets, and then he speaks again.

“Dark?”
“Yes, Cecil. It’s me.”
“I hurt.”
“Well that’s what you get for going outside while ill, Cecil.” Dark sighs, climbing to his feet and gently pulling Host up with him. Host grunts, wobbles in his arms, and finally slumps a bit lifelessly against him. 

When Host is finally tucked safely away in bed, Dark relaxes. 
His brother is quite the handful when he wants to be.

Can I get some fluffy, platonic Host + Dark where Host has some pretty heavy painkillers he takes to deal with the vision headaches, and Dark is always the one he gets cuddly and adorable with? This brotp is amazing.

lostcybertronian:

I wrote it, rewrote it. I like the second version better but I have the first version saved just in case I decide to ever finish it.

Tags: @caffeine-eater @authorsathenaeum @tiny-yan-an @darkstache-iplier @redraspberrycats @holyshitsnakesandspace @blue-greenstylinson @cookieface678 @bing-iplier @storm337 @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @pixelenchanter

The clock read 12:01AM when Dark slipped into the bedroom.

    All the lights were off, but as his eyes adjusted the entity could just make out the shape lying on top of the covers. A smudge of tan and crimson against the black.

    He knew instantly who it was.

    “Host,” he said quietly, hovering near the door. “Our good doctor told me you would be here.”

He only got a soft groan in response, but it was all he needed.

He approached the bed, careful to keep his footsteps silent, careful to be gentle when he leaned down to lay a hand across the Host’s forehead.

His skin was feverishly hot, as it often was after the visions that reduced him to a quivering wreck, unable to do more than lie in the dark, drifting in and out of a haze of heavy sedatives.

“Can I help you undress, at least?” He regarded the Host’s tattered, blood-stained trench coat with disgust. Why the Host chose to live- and the word here was live, since he almost never took it off- in that coat was beyond him.

Still, he waited for another, softer groan to slip from the Host’s lips before reaching for it and unbuttoning it.

The Host’s body trembled beneath Dark’s touch as he helped him sit up, and his head bobbed forward as the trench coat was eased off him.

“How bad was it this time?” Dark didn’t mean to ask, but the question escaped before he could stop it.

“They’re getting worse,” he continued a moment later, voice hushed, tone neutral. He folded the trenchcoat and set it onto the dresser.

He hesitated before turning around.

The Host’s head continued to nod, like he was fighting to stay awake. Other than that, he was still as a statue, as silent as one, too. His bandages were clean. Dr. Iplier must have changed them.

Dark sighed, a sound that rattled through his chest. Then he went over, and the bed dipped and creaked as he eased himself onto it.

“You need to rest now,” he said, raising a hand to trail pale fingertips down the Host’s face. “You are useful to me. I can’t have my most valuable asset reduced to incompetence.”

The Host leaned into his touch, gave a faint nod. Whispered, “stay.”

Dark nodded. “I will stay.”

Together they lay down on top of the covers, Dark drawing the Host close, wrapping his arms around him, allowing him to rest his head on his chest.

The Host seemed to take comfort from Dark’s frigid hold; he gave a great, shuddering sigh and Dark felt him relax. Not long after, the Host’s grip on the fabric of his suit slackened and he fell asleep, fell back into the thick fog brought by the painkillers Dr. Iplier had given him.

“Rest.” Dark murmured to no one in particular, his words drifting through the still, dim air of the bedroom.

Soon, he was asleep too.

“ I’m dying. ” (because I love angst, I LOVE GHOST LET’S DO SOME MORE GHOST)

lostcybertronian:

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.

Keep reading

Host + Dark. 13, 35. More.👏🏻 Sick. 👏🏻 Host. 👏🏻 Sorrynotsorry.

snarkyowl:

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.

snarkyowl:

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.)

snarkyowl:

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.