Nov 14, 2019
Can I have Illinois????
yes
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Can I have Illinois????
yes
A smooch from Bing 👀
You smooch the bing and the bing smooches back!
49 with Dr.iplier and The Host?
Trigger warnings for gore, blood, physical violence
Tags: @authorsathenaeum @tiny-yan-an @darkstache-iplier @redraspberrycats @holyshitsnakesandspace @cookieface678 @bing-iplier @storm337 @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @pixelenchanter @itsjustkyss @darkiplurrr @demonnightmareangel @moonysmayhem @demon-dark-666 @takethepainawaybae
Prompt 49: “Take your shirt off.”
“Where have you been?” Quiet and tired as it was, Dr. Iplier’s voice still carried some of its bite. He flicked the lightswitch, turning on the lights in time to see the Host flinch and freeze in the doorway to their bedroom. “I’ve been waiting for you for hours.”
All that came in reply was a shrug; a faint rise and fall of the shoulders so slight it could’ve been mistaken for nonexistent, had Dr. Iplier not known the Host as well.
“That’s not an answer, Host.” He narrowed his eyes, taking in his lover’s hunched form and blood-encrusted face, the way his cracked lips twitched as if struggling to form words and his red-stained fingers jerked and clutched at the sleeves of his trench-coat.
“That’s not an answer, Host,” Dr. Iplier repeated, worry softening the edge in his voice. Socked feet padding near-silent over carpeted floor he crossed the room, coming to stand before the Host, hands reaching to touch his chest, to trace the strong slope of his shoulders.
The Host jerked away from his touch; an instinctive movement, one born of pain, it was stiff and agonized. Like he was injured.
“Take off your shirt.” Dr. Iplier reached for the buttons of his trenchcoat, not giving the Host a chance to pull away this time as he fumbled to undo them, stripping the coat off and tossing it to the floor, eyes widening when he saw that the Host’s undershirt was now more red than white, having been saturated with blood.
“What happened?” He demanded, unable to stop his voice from rising even as the Host flinched, as he held up trembling hands, as his hoarse, half-gone voice rasped something unintelligible. He began to undo the shirt’s tiny, white buttons, nearly tearing the fabric in his hurry to peel it away from the Host’s chest, which was little more than a mass of lacerated flesh and tissues and blood.
And words. Jumbles of letters clustered so tightly together that Dr. Iplier couldn’t pick any one out. Words carved into the skin of the Host’s chest, shoulders, arms, crawling down his stomach, curling over his collarbones.
“Host-“ Dr. Iplier stammered, breathless. His ran his fingers lightly over the wounds, murmuring apologies when the man winced, his jaw clenching. “Did- did you do this yourself?”
A slight shake of the head. “Dark,” the Host whispered.
“Dark did this?” It suddenly occurred to him that the Host was still bleeding; red droplets oozed from the jagged wounds. Dr. Iplier hurried toward the bathroom, not bothering to turn the lights on. There were a few clatters and thunks of items being tossed aside or dropped before he eventually reappeared with a washcloth and a First Aid kit. He guided the Host toward the bed, helping him sit down before going to work on the wounds cut deep into his skin.
“Why?” He asked finally, after a few minutes of silence too loud and empty of the Host’s narrations. “What did he want?”
“Better chances.” The Host hissed as the washcloth touched his skin. “Better chances of desired futures coming true.”
“By cutting them into your skin?” The words came out harsh. Too harsh. But he was unable to quell the hot fury welling up inside him. “Will that even work?”
The Host shrugged, pressing his lips hard into a thin, pale line. He said nothing else as Dr. Iplier cleaned and bandaged him. Said nothing else when the doctor finished, straightening to press a kiss to his clammy forehead before turning to put his supplies away.
Said nothing else when he came back to sit beside him, taking his hand and squeezing it tight.
You asked for it bro
it’s ok a meme is how i want to go down
how we be locking actor mark in a cave
Cause a cave avalanche
LUMII, you're so PRETTY, how dare you look this cute!
how DARE you be so NICE TO ME-
thank u so much hun ;-;
Random Harold extra loving hours? OwO?
HECK YEAH!
BEST HOURS ARE HAROLD HOURS!!
FUGGIN'
I wish I could appropriately list what it is I love about him.
But I honestly couldn't tell ya!
I guess it has something to do with the fact that headcanon that the guy is lowkey
Touch Starved AF!!!
And I just wanna SMORCH a guy and watch him turn into a big ol mess.
Wanna HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
TAKE CARE OF MY HUSBAND
Because he probably forgets to eat because he's busy enforcing THE LAW.
It doesn't freaking matter--
I just
Ffffffffffffffffffffffffff
Flippin' love the guy...
Hecc--
You know, I used to send him asks about the silliest things and he was so nice, I miss him :/
There’s still other social media websites you can talk of course.