“Please wake up Author you need to wake up now Author wake up-”
The cabin door flew inward and smacked against the wall when Edward shoved it open, allowing him to drag in the Author along with a gust of frigid wind and a thick, swirling pile of snow.
But he didn’t have time to worry about that now. He had to get the Author inside. Out of the snow and the cold he’d found him in.
“Author, please.” Edward gritted his teeth, managed to heave his boyfriend up onto the threadbare couch.
The Author didn’t reply. His head merely lolled against the arm of the couch. His lips were blue and his skin was deathly pale and freezing cold. A thin line of blood trickled lazily from his nose and more blood caked the half-frozen wound on the back of his head.
“Author-” Edward tore off his mittens, fumbled for a pulse, but tears blurred his vision and his hands shook too violently for him to be able to detect it, if it was even there anymore. “Author, please be alive.”
He’d found him mostly buried in a snowbank on his way in to the cabin, unresponsive and slowly dying due to extreme cold.
Edward had somehow, despite the Author’s greater weight and the blizzard that raged around him, managed to get him back to the cabin.
But what if it was all futile? What if the Author was dead?
Suddenly he felt a tremor run through the Author’s body, heard him give a small groan and saw his eyelids flutter.
“Oh my god.” Edward leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead, choked back a sob of relief. “Author.”
He was alive. Half-frozen and wounded, but alive.
But he wouldn’t stay that way for long if Edward didn’t do something.
So, instead of burying his head in the Author’s frosty, sodden shirt and crying like he desperately wanted to, he got to work.
(I am a s u c k e r for Darkstache so that’s what we’re going to go with. 😀 ) Send me a cute prompt!
“I planned out this super romantic proposal and you just ruined it by beating me to the whole proposal thing!” Wilford was absolutely livid, and glowered at Dark, who was currently on his knees, ringbox in hand. He swallowed and waiting for Wilford’s reply. They were on the roof of a building, the night sky shimmering overhead, the meteor shower at its apex when he’d asked the question. Now it was beginning to die down.
“Wil… I kind of… need an answer.” Dark told him.
“Like hell you do! Ugh! I had this big fancy dinner planned out for next weekend!” Wilford frowned and stomped his foot.
“Kind of like we had tonight.” Dark nodded. “That I took you on.”
“Yes but I was supposed to take you on it! Not you take me on it! And my proposal was going to be on a boat, out on the harbor, so you can see the city all lit up like you like to see sometimes!” Wilford scowled.
“You hate the ocean.” Dark was still on one knee. He wasn’t sure the rules of if there wasn’t an answer. He assumed he stayed there forever until eventually Wilford gave him one.
“But you love the ocean!” He countered with a frown. “Also you hate space. Why would you come up here to watch a meteor shower?”
“Cause you love space.” Dark gave him a soft smile. “How about you say yes to me now, and then next week, you can propose to me back, okay?” He offered.
Wilford’s anger melted and he smiled he nodded and walked over. “Of course I’ll marry you, Dark.” He pulled Dark up to his feet and gave him a tender kiss.
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.
Five years ago today, the Author was born. These days, the Host has learned not to expect a proper celebration, but that tingle of hope in his chest simply refuses to be suppressed…
Honestly, as a German I can not quite understand the obsession of the English speaking world with the question whether a word exists or not. If you have to express something for which there is no word, you have to make a new one, preferably by combining well-known words, and in the very same moment it starts to exist. Agree?
Deutsche Freunde, could you please create for me a word for the extreme depression I feel when I bend down to pick up a piece of litter and discover two more pieces of litter?
um = around
die Welt = world
die Umwelt = environment
ver = prefix to indicate something difficult or negative, a change that leads to deterioration or even destruction that is difficult to reverse or to undo, or a strong negative change of the mental state of a person
der Müll = garbage, trash, rubbish, litter
-ung = -ing
die Vermüllung = littering
ver- = see before
zweifeln = to doubt
-ung = see before
die Verzweiflung = despair, exasperation, desperation
die Umweltvermüllungsverzweiflung = …
This is a german compound on the spot master class and I am LIVING
Now before y’all come for my ass and say Bessie is the main Bitch, she is also the lazytown MomTM. The only criticism I accept is that Milford is not a Bastard, but he is Depressed and Trying his best.
emptynarration 