#guys im so nervous posting this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kellyscowboy · 11 months

Text

꒰✧ᯇ✦꒱ OUTLAWS OF SANTA FE

ᯇ summary ! ✦ “You know what they say about cowboys who brag too loud about their women.” He sniffed and rubbed his nose. Jack gave a mock laugh. “Anyone in town would tell you I’m not queer. ‘Specially the ladies who pass through. Who do you think you are, anyway?” As the boy pushed his hat out of his face, he made direct eye-contact with the outlaw. "I think I'm the fella that can send the ‘famous’ Jack Kelly home crying to his mama." Jack was silent, stunned. His finger was still pressed into the man’s chest, but it had begun to shake. "What now, Cowboy? I'd tell you to take me down like you promised," Deadwood gave a slight shove to Jack’s shoulder, yet he found himself almost toppling over. "But you're too corned to even stand straight." aka the wild westsies au i've had in my drafts forever ᯇ tag list ! ✦ @bound-for-santa-fe ,, @fandomtrashcollector (taglist form is in my pinned post!!) ᯇ warnings ! ✦ cussing, alcohol consumption, violence, use of guns ᯇ vienna's thoughts ! ✦ here are the meanings of the wild west slang words in here:) paintin' his nose - to get drunk corned - drunk fogy - a stupid fellow dynamite - whiskey ANYWAY, i've had this in my drafts for forever and i just wanted to finally finish is so sorry that the ending is really rushed el oh el. also i recommend listening to Billy the Kid by Tex Ritter before reading!! as always, reblogs & comments are always appreciated <333 ALSO READ IT ON AO3 THE PLAYLIST 2883 WORDS © 2023 , 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲

WANTED Jack ‘Cowboy’ Kelly $1,000.000 REWARD Wanted for robbery, murder, and disruption of the public. Does not attack without motive. Contact Sheriff Charles Morris of Santa Fe, New Mexico.

WANTED The Delancey Brothers $500.000 REWARD Oscar and Morris Delancey are wanted for robbery and attempted murder. Contact Sheriff Charles Morris of Santa Fe, New Mexico.

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE Deadwood David $5,000.000 REWARD Wanted for robbery and murder, on a large scale. Does not attack without motive. Contact Sheriff Charles Morris of Santa Fe, New Mexico.

A proud cowboy listened to the chatter of customers outside of Spots Shootin' Saddle Saloon. A cocky smirk played at his lips as he pushed through swinging doors. He heard gasps and the sound of multiple pistols being dragged from his holster. Then, the saloon went silent—save for the high-pitched squeak of wet glass being towel dried.

The bartender didn't even spare him a glance. "Well, well. If it ain’t the famous Jack Kelly."

“I could say the same to you, Spot. Lookit you, got yer own saloon and everything.”

One of the saloon boys perked up. "Jack!” The boy gave a half-hearted excuse to the men he was serving, he made up for his departure with a wink. He eagerly made his way behind the bar and began fixing the ex-cowboy a drink. "What brings you into town?"

Jack gratefully took the drink with a tip of his hat. “You’re a good man, Race.” He downed the drink before addressing the question before him. "Can't a lonely cowboy just visit his old friends?"

"Why, sure he could!” Racetrack grinned, already refilling his glass.

“That is, if that's what he was really doing." Spot added quickly. “Besides, can’t really be calling yourself a cowboy anymore. Not when a wanted poster names you an outlaw.”

“I can call myself whatever I please.” The cowboy realized it was a fight not worth fighting. He waved him off and dragged the newly poured whiskey closer. "Howd’ya know it was me?”

Spot laughed. "What, when you walked in? Yer the only fella I know who quiets my saloon like that.”

Racetrack leaned forward against the counter; his arm wrapped lovingly around Spot’s waist. He rested his head in his own hand, his elbow digging into marble, and gave Jack a pointed look. "Not anymore. Say, Jack; you heard of that David feller, yet? He paid us a visit couple’a days ago. Shoot, we didn’t hear much noise in here ‘till the next day!”

Jack's fingers squeezed his glass, before they relaxed and stretched. "Yeah, I've heard of him. Fill 'er up again, would'ya?"

Spot took the glass and kept his gaze on the outlaw whilst he poured the whiskey. He placed it in front of the boy with a thump, then glared at him through narrowed eyes. "What are you really here for, cowboy?"

"Just paintin’ my nose, Spot." Jack pushed away from the bar, drink in hand. He sat down with a boy who was lazily pulling at the strings of his guitar. “Tell me a story, Al."

The boy responded with a toothy grin, then tipped his hat up and out of his eyes. He slowly looked up and made eye contact with the outlaw. “Long time no see, Jackie." He plucked at his guitar more rhythmically than before. "What'cha wanna hear?"

"Why don’t you tell that one about ole Billy the Kid?”

"Only because you're an old friend." Albert chuckled. He took a deep breath before he put on his story-telling voice. His demeanor demanded the attention of those around him, and he always got it when he was performing. "Some folks do a lot of good in the world, that encourages us to do good. A few people start off on the wrong foot - their black deeds serve as a warning post to us. The song I'm gonna to sing for you now, fellers, is about a boy who sorta wandered off the straight and narrow trail, took up a crooked course. As usual with all outlaws, he paid with his life. His name,” a pause, “was Billy the Kid."

His singing was mesmerizing, just like his stories, and everyone in the saloon slowly began to sing along. Some of them absentmindedly hummed along as they gambled, and others gave the man their full attention. They swayed merrily back and forth with each other, their glasses raised to the gods as they hooted and hollered.

"I'll sing you a true song of Billy the Kid. I'll sing of the desperate deeds that he did. Out in New Mexico, long time ago, When a man's only chance was his own forty-four."

While everyone sang along, a boy slipped in through the doors, entirely unnoticed. He whispered to Spot and kept his head hung low. Had he made any noise, it had been covered up by obnoxious singing. The boy pushed a couple of coins across the counter before he slumped farther into his hat.

"When Billy the Kid was a very young lad, In old Silver City, he went to the bad. Way out in the West with a gun in his hand- At the age of twelve years, he killed his first man."

Racetrack wanted to tell Jack about the man at the bar, but Spot had instructed him to keep quiet. He had been told to loosen the outlaw up, and he did just that. Race kept a close eye on Jack’s drink and made sure he never reached the bottom of his glass.

"Fair Mexican maidens play guitars and sing A song about Billy, their boy bandit king. How ere his young man-hood had reached it's sad end, Had a notch on his pistol for twenty-one men."

To say the drinks had loosened him up would be an understatement. Jack pranced around the table—dragging Racetrack along with him—with his glass raised. The whiskey sloshed over the side and splashed his boots. He jumped atop the tables and managed to gain the attention of all the customers. It wasn’t long before everyone was shouting and throwing their drinks into the air.

"Twas on the same night, when poor Billy died, He said to his friends, 'I'm not satisfied, Twenty-one men I have put bullets through. Sheriff Pat Garrett must make twenty-two."

Jack tried to sing along, but his mouth had other plans. He rambled to Albert, who just smiled as he sang, about his recent affairs. “I could take down the sheriff!” He bragged. “No! I could take down big ol’ Deadwood David… with my eyes closed!” Al shook his head and his eyes flitted quickly to the man at the bar.

"Now this is how Billy the Kid met his fate. The bright moon was shining, the hour was late. Shot down by Pat Garrett, who once was his friend. The young outlaw's life had now come to its end."

“Don’t make promises ya can’t keep, Kelly.” Spot warned with a sigh. Racetrack cocked an eyebrow from his place next to Jack. He raised the pitcher in question, and moved away from the table when Spot shook his head. The cowboy waved off Spot’s warning as the bartender whispered lowly to his customer.

"There's many a man with a face fine and fair, Who starts out in life with a chance to be square. But just like poor Billy, he wanders astray And loses his life in the very same way."

Everyone cheered in unison for the song; although, some might’ve been cheering for their gambling wins. Albert smiled and tipped his hat before he went back to strumming mindlessly at his guitar. A small grin made its way onto his face as Jack drunkenly droned on.

"D’ya hear Spot? Talkin’ bout promises I can't keep!" He scoffed; a drunk burp made its way up his throat. "I mean- Listen, I've got way more kills under my belt than Billy the Kid had got." Jack took a sip of his glass. Race had been filling it with coffee, but he was much too drunk to notice. “He would’ve never died if he was as experienced as me. Besides, this Deadwood guy’s a total poser. I betcha I could take him on with my-” He looked confused for a second. “With my- my eyes closed!”

“So you’ve said.” Albert shook his head and chuckled. "Anyhow… the song ain’t a challenge, Cowboy. It's a warning. Don’t mess with something that ain’t botherin’ you.”

"You’re starting to sound like my Papaw, Al.” Jack bumped Albert’s shoulder with his cup. “He don’t look good on you. Oh! You know who looked good on me, though? Them gals over in Tombstone.”

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!" He slurred. "I mean, practically a different girl each night. Gorgeous women too. Unlike any lady out in these parts."

An obnoxious scoff came from the boy at the bar. He circled his finger around the rim of his glass as he spoke, his head still down. “I sure ain’t heard any Tombstone ladies bragging on about pirooting with a Jack Kelly.”

All conversation ceased at the boy’s words. The notes on Albert’s guitar suddenly became more dramatic, and Jack would’ve laughed if he wasn’t so offended. Spot let out an exasperated sigh, but the rest of the customers were visibly tense. Every man had a hand on his gun, waiting for a showdown.

Jack turned and stared the boy down. "Maybe you ain't talked to the right ladies.”

"Maybe you just ain’t worth bragging about.” The boy took a sip of his drink. Racetrack let out a short giggle, then nervously ducked under the counter to make a drink that nobody had asked for. “Or, maybe, you ain’t really been with as many ladies as you claim.”

Disgruntled, Jack got up and made his way to the bar. The boy laughed as the outlaw tripped a little over his own feet. Jack grabbed the man by a shoulder and forced him to spin in his chair. He shoved a mean finger into the man’s chest. The man at the bar snickered, his face still covered by his hat.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Huh?”

“You know what they say about cowboys who brag too loud about their women.” He sniffed and rubbed his nose.

Jack gave a mock laugh. “Anyone in town would tell you I’m not queer. ‘Specially the ladies who pass through. Who do you think you are, anyway?”

As the boy pushed his hat out of his face, he made direct eye-contact with the outlaw. "I think I'm the fella that can send the ‘famous’ Jack Kelly home crying to his mama." Jack was silent, stunned. His finger was still pressed into the man’s chest, but it had begun to shake. "What now, Cowboy? I'd tell you to take me down like you promised," Deadwood gave a slight shove to Jack’s shoulder, yet he found himself almost toppling over. "But you're too corned to even stand straight."

Spot cleared his throat. “I won’t have you dunderheads havin’ a showdown in my saloon. Be respectable, boys.”

“There wasn’t gonna be no showdown, anyhow. This feller’s too drunk to do anything. He couldn’t shoot at me even if he had his pistol to my head.” Deadwood flicked a coin to Spot. “Thanks for the dynamite, Spot.” And with that, he proudly walked out of the saloon.

Jack watched the man leave and stood tall with fake pride. After the man was gone, he made a drunken attempt to sit down but instead accepted his place on the floor. Racetrack sighed and raised the outlaw by his armpits before sitting him on a barstool. Spot scoffed as he handed the outlaw a glass of water. “I told you not to make promises you can’t keep, you stubborn ole fogy.”

"I'm fixin' to keep that promise. But right now,” He started to gag, “I think I'm gonna be sick."

“Steady, Izar.” Jack mumbled. “Ain’t too far from here.” His horse neighed, almost as if she was responding to him. She even sighed as he stumbled into her. Jack could almost hear her complain about his recklessness. “I ain’t that drunk, Izar. Honest.”

He led her into the stable behind the Conlon home. “Spot was kind ‘nough to give us a nice little place to stay in for the night.” Jack looked around the stable and flinched at the smell of manure. “Well, he offered to let me stay in the house. But ya know I can’t leave you, mama.”

“Second I heard about you, Jack Kelly, I knew you were insane.” A voice muttered from the corner. “But I never would’a figured you was the type of insane to talk to yourself.”

Jack groaned. “Fuckin’ Spot. He knew you’d be here. Ain’t that right, Deadwood?”

“Yup.”

A tense silence fell over them, but Jack was far too tired (and drunk) to start a fight. He began to take off Izar’s saddle. “I wasn’t talkin’ to myself. I was talking to Izar.” He explained and gestured to his horse. Though, as Deadwood laughed, he realized that wasn’t a much better excuse. “Listen, I don’t feel the need to explain myself to you.”

“Yet here you are. Doing it.” Deadwood snorted as he pulled his hat further over his face. The hay he was laying in enveloped him as he snuggled deeper into it. “Now, I promise not to kill ya if ya promise to shut up.”

Jack grunted in agreement. His intuition screamed at him not to let his guard down, but Izar had already nestled herself into the hay. At that moment, he figured his awful gut feeling was just the whiskey from earlier. Besides, Izar had a good judge of character, most of the time. She curled around Jack as he rested against her, and the two slowly drifted off to sleep, just inches away from one of the deadliest men in the country.

Yelling voices and the sound of cracked wood startled Jack awake. Once he came to his senses, he realized that Izar was no longer behind him. Panic filled his chest and he scrambled to his feet. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he began to barely make out what was happening in the shadows.

Deadwood had a lanky boy pinned beneath him, his pistol to the person’s head. Another boy laid up against the wall of the barn; he was surrounded by splinters and his own blood. His head lolled against his shoulder, the blood from his nose pooled on his leather vest. The boy had a gun in his hand, the safety off and his hand on the trigger.

David lifted the boy underneath him by the collar of his shirt and shoved him against the wall. “I knew you were pathetic, Morris. But going so low as to kill a man in his sleep? We may be outlaws, but we have some sense of morality.” His hand in the Delancey brothers’ shirt tightened as he pushed the boy farther into the wall; Jack could hear the wood cracking beneath him. “And you don’t kill a man’s horse. Not unless you’re too much of a pussy to kill the owner.” Then, he dropped the man to the floor and spit at him.

Morris used a dramatic hand to wipe off his face before he scrambled to his feet. His hands shook as he moved to grab his pistol. “You place a single finger on that gun, and I will break every single one of your fingers-” Deadwood growled and grabbed the boy’s wrist. “One. By. One.”

After he let go of Morris’ wrist, the boy tripped over himself as he picked up his brother. Oscar barely seemed alive; his only sign of life had been the elongated groan he let out as Morris lifted him. David stopped the two before they could hurry out the door. “You two better never point a pistol at my Cowboy or his horse ever again. Next time, you don’t get a warning. I’ll line you two up and watch the bullets go straight through both of you.”

The two hesitantly nodded (Oscar moved his head down, and that was enough for David). Morris dragged his brother out the door, and it wasn’t long before the sound of galloping hoofs grew quieter and quieter.

“What the hell was that about?” Jack demanded. Deadwood rolled his eyes and led Izar out from behind his own horse.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Cowboy. Go back to sleep.”

“You’re losin’ it if you think I’m gonna let this shit go,” Jack argued as he moved to pet Izar’s neck. “They got you riled up enough to call me your cowboy.” He scoffed. “And you called me queer.”

David cocked his pistol in retaliation. “I defended you while you’s was asleep, but I’m not against shooting a man who’s awake.”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry, Deadwood. I won’t tell no-one ‘bout this. It wouldn’t be good for my reputation, anyhow. Cowboy don’t need no-one to save him.” He closed his eyes, an amused grin on his lips, and went back to resting against Izar.

The infamous outlaw stared at him, before he broke into laughter. “Spot was right. You are a stubborn ole fogy.”

36 notes · View notes

isjasz · 10 months

Text

youtube

Lower One's Eyes

Thumbnail by @vesperionnox my partner in desertduo crime!! Go check it out its my first animatic ever help KJEKAJSKLSJ <3

#desert duo #grian #goodtimeswithscar #life series #trafficsmp #trafficblr #limited life #3rd life #last life #double life #my art #desert duo animatic #is that a tag??#god im so nervous posting this and still am skjsklj hope you guys like it <3 #Youtube

2K notes · View notes

amourninghost · 4 months

Text

This is Spaceghost! So-called because he needed to be quickly and easily addressed as an emergent issue for those with the displeasure of meeting him. The device he created appears to anchor his consciousness (and part of his physical body) to an extradimensional superposition.

(Lore on the scene ripper under the cut)

The scene-ripper (a play on seam ripper, since the blade seems to be fashioned after one) can tear a hole in reality. It can alter the structure of a reality, or simply traverse through it to a more desirable universal position depending on the dexterity and control of the operator (so pilot dib).

He made the device while trapped in a nightmare dimension, as no one was there to help him escape it. It was more out of desperation. The scope was useless on its own; he needed to find a way to control the jumps... so he had to work with what he had at his disposal. Which was, luckily or unluckily, a world full of fucked up impossible technology.

He was trapped there for a long time, being hunted down and tortured intermittently while trying to engineer the scene ripper. His work was made easier by the fact he wasn't the only one wanting to leave. Most of the work was done for him, he just needed to understand it and apply it. And scavenge all the parts... and eventually use untested technology on himself.

Point of no return shit was easier to fall into than to step into. It was a lot like putting his arm in a nuclear generator surrounded by a bear trap. When he was able to check on the status of his arm, he found the matter of his hand to be inscrutable. There was a void where his wrist should have been visible on the underside of the gauntlet and a sharp blade manifesting from the darkness. He could no longer remove it... but it did work.

The scope itself also received upgrades more closely tying its functionality to the ripper and operator, but none so costly as that of the gauntlet.

#mine #invader zim #iz pilot dib #dib membrane #spaceghost au #funfact this guys my namesake on this sideblog #well not really because i used it for an OC in like 2018...#extradimensional superghost was what i initially referred to my mega gengar gijinka as #similar vibes honestly #i have a type #its “i've seen everything and it broke my brain”#concept design #scene ripper #im nervous about posting this lol i usually dont bother posting shit thats hard to explain but almost everything i make is hard to explain #so i have to get over that.

271 notes · View notes

l3irdl3rain · 7 months

Text

She wants to know why she can’t eat the party snacks

#I’m having a party tonight!!!! for Halloween!!!!#I’m kind of nervous bc I’m having a bunch of ppl over who have never been to my house before #but it’s gonna be fun and im gonna get silly with my friends #also my house is so very clean. wish u guys could see how clean it is. beautiful #my post #Merrill

410 notes · View notes

cleewii · 10 months

Text

modern au!gyutaro!!

#the modern gyu brain rot is so real i blacked out and woke up wit a pen in my hand and this on my screen #im actually so nervous posting this i hope you guys like it 🥲#gyutaro #kny #kny fanart #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer fanart #clee's.art #modern au!gyutaro

550 notes · View notes

sugusearrings · 8 months

Text

( 'wings ' )

In the moment, we’re lost and found I just wanna be by your side If these wings could fly for the rest of our lives.

— summary: geto suguru finally snapped and the first person he called was you (fem!reader). — genre: mid-angst. kind of fluff towards the end, sort of? — playing: wings by birdy — note(s): i just watched the scene with elena and damon in vampire diaries (iykyk which scene i'm talking about) and this song was playing. so i had it on repeat then it just reminded me of my man suguru and what if he did call someone. — word count: 1.7k

All you could hear was her heavy breathing. Your heart was pounding so fast against your chest it was making it ache with pain. But you knew couldn’t you stop. If you stopped you would feel your throbbing feet and the aching pain in your chest. You could’ve sworn your destination was getting close.

Is that smoke?

The closer you were getting the strong odor became more intense. This was supposed to be the location. But it was covered by thick black color smoke. Your eyes widened at the horrid scene. Where the village once stood was now ashes. There was no evidence there was no village to begin with. You stopped at the entrance and tried to catch your breath. Your mind was racing as your eyes scanned all over the place.You saw the outline of the houses that were there once. Now gone. Burned.

Please no.

You could feel a lump forming in your throat. What if something happened to him when he came back here? You offered to go with him but he objected. He’s been so distant with you and you couldn’t understand why. You would ask and he would tell you he was okay. But you knew it was a lie. He was bottling everything up and refused to tell you. How could he tell you he was falling apart? Everyone looked at him to keep everything together. He was the glue to everyone.

With your hand on your chest you was going to take a step inside but from the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar figure. You turn so quickly to face it. There he was. Standing there with a child on each side, they were holding onto his larger hand.

“Suguru…”

You called out to him. He snapped out of his thought and looked over to the gentle voice that spoke his name. He couldn’t believe you showed up. He stared at you in disbelief. The bags under his eyes emphasize in the dark.

“Hey…” he greeted back. His usual honey-covered voice that would give you chills, had no emotion this time. You frowned slightly noticing it right away.

“I-I thought…oh my god Suguru.”

You rushed over to him and hugged him tightly. The children took a step back frightened by the stranger.

You grabbed a handful of his white shirt, inhaling his signature musk mixed with the smell of burning ash. He wrapped his arms around you just as tight. He closes his eyes. He could breathe again. He could finally exhale feeling less anxious and less anxiety.

“I’m okay…I want you to meet Nanako and Mimiko. They were from this village.” He looked over at the twins with a gentle smile. “We can trust her, she’s my friend.”

It broke your heart to see the state the little girls were in. They looked beaten and starved. You smiled and kneeled down in front of them.

“Hello Nanako. Hello Mimiko. I like your toy.”

You told Mimiko who held onto a brown stuffed animal. You smiled at Nanako and stroked her hair gently carefully. You didn’t want to touch her bruised cheek. They gave you a small smile. After you helped them get into the car then you turned to Geto.

“What the fuck is going on? What happened to the village?”

You asked once the car door closed. That’s when you noticed he wasn’t wearing his uniform top. It was just his white long sleeve underneath but the sleeves were rolled up half way. His eyes averted from you. He didn’t know where to even start. Can he even trust you? You two have been friends since you both started jujutsu high school. But did that really mean anything when he couldn’t even tell his best friend, Satoru? But Suguru knew you were different from Satoru.

“Suguru. Please. I want to help you.” You begged him.

“I killed them all.”

Even his smooth voice couldn’t stop the cold chill that went down your spine. Your eyes enlarged and you could feel yourself losing color in your face. You would’ve taken a step back but you would lean into the car behind you. You swallowed hard.

“Suguru…” you whispered in disbelief.

“I had too. Look what…what those monkeys did to Mimiko and Nanako! Like they were animals!”

You had never seen Geto lose it before. He was always a very patient and calm boy. Well kept together. Especially dealing with Satoru on the regular. You can’t even recall if you ever heard him raise his voice before.

You remain quiet though.Your hands on your sides but your fingertips brushing against your uniform skirt. “Don’t you get it? Why are we protecting these pathetic monkeys when they do this? Curses are brought because of them! The negative energy! The selfishness! Why should I consume these curses for ignorant monkeys!”

It was good to finally let it out.

His breathing even got heavier.

Your glossy eyes just watched how passionate he was on how much he despised these mon– non sorcerers. Your eyes grazed down at your feet not sure what to say or even feel.

“Why…why did you call me, Geto?” you whispered quietly. Geto barely heard you. He blinked. It was like something took over his mind to call you. Not Gojo. Not Shoko. You.

He cleared his throat.

“You would be the only one who understands me.” He admitted to you. You looked away from his taller frame. You could feel your cheeks slightly burning up. “I trust you.”

“And not Sat–”

“I’m talking about you not him,” he cut you off immediately, “you saw what I saw that day. Only you and I can understand that.”

He was referring to the day Riko. You were with them both as Geto gave her the choice to calm back with you guys. You were smiling as Riko chose to come back with you two and to become a student. It was taken away with a bullet going through her skull. You both watched her lifeless body fall onto the ground. Then the pool of her own blood formed around her.

It still keeps you up at night having nightmares about it. That’s when you would sneak into Suguru’s dorm and sleep in his arms. It was the only way to make it stop, for the both of you.

“I know we been through a lot Suguru but those people –”

“Monkeys.” he corrected you with disgust in his tone.

“There are some innocent people too, Sug.”

“So why didn’t any of those ‘innocent’ people help those children?”

He snapped at you. You bit your lower lip then lowered your eyes again. He wasn’t completely wrong. But maybe they didn’t know the girls were being held in a cage. But you remembered them blaming some children the first time they exorcized the curses here. But he was right. The two of you went to village before to exorcized the curses and they still weren’t grateful? It still wasn’t enough? How can they blame those twin girls?

Suguru stared at you as you were in deep thought. He wondered what you were thinking. Were you going to tell everyone? Would you go tell Satoru? Look at him like he was the monster? He could hear his own heart beat that’s how quiet it was between the two of you. The silence was killing him.

“What do you want me to do, Suguru?”

You whispered. He took a step closer and placed his hand on your chin. He picked your head up so your short frame can look up at him. He could see the faint blush on your cheeks even in the dark.

“Come with me, please.”

He needed you. He couldn’t do this new world without you. He needed you by his side. He couldn’t see himself in this new world without you. Leaving you behind would break his heart but if he had too he would. No one was going to get in the way of his new world. But you was taken aback with his sudden confession. You could feel your cheeks darkening as they began to burn

“Sug…”

“You’re going to deny what we have?”

Your face was flushed by now. You tried to talk to him not to object but to talk about what was seriously happening. But you stammered over your words not making sense at all. The corner of his lips curled up into a slight smile. He let out a dry chuckle then leaned down to give you a soft passionate kiss. You froze up but slowly began to kiss him back.

The kiss was short but meaningful. It was long overdue.

Suguru would make sure to always stand or sit next to you, he would always play with a strand of your hair or your fingertips. You would catch him staring at you and you would just stare back for as long as both of you can.

What should have gave it away was how Geto would be so protective of you. Even on missions, Geto made sure to protect you no matter what. Your friends could see it and would tease you both, especially Gojo and Shoko being your biggest fan.

“What about the others?” You asked. He stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“We have to leave everything and everyone behind.”

It made your stomach twist. It broke your heart to leave everyone behind without a final goodbye. But to start this new life with Suguru, you needed to. You glanced over at the twins already sleeping in the back of the car. You turned back to Geto.

“Let’s go.”

His lips smiled wide as you chose the path to go with him. The right path. You two shared another deep long kiss before you two got into the car. “Take this off.”

He tugged on your uniform top. You blushed deeply as you began to unbutton it. With a simple command he could see your loyalty already. That’s all he ever needed.

Once it was off and you were left in a white short sleeve, he pressed down on the car window to throw it out. He looked at you again and grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed your knuckles. That’s when he started the car to drive to start their new life together. The four of them. He placed his hand on your thigh.

You placed your hand over his and gave him a gentle squeeze. You smiled knowing you were following your heart. No matter what, you were going to stand by Suguru’s side and nobody was going to come in between that.

#( sugusearrings writing * )#drabbles #geto x reader #geto x you #geto suguru x you #suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x fem!reader #jjk fanfic #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #im so fucking nervous posting this #i hope you guys like it #imma go throw up now

276 notes · View notes

halfmoonstruck · 1 year

Photo

happy holidays :-D

#deltarune #noelle #kris #my art #first pic is referenced from one of red velvets concept photos for their song birthday :-)#i dont usually post at this time so im a bit nervous i was gonna do it at my usual time last night #but i ended up playing genshin w friends LOL #anywya i hope u guys are having a great festive season :-)

917 notes · View notes

answermywearyquery · 3 days

Text

happy pride! 🌈 | sas: rogue heroes edition (insp: ½ + ½)

47 notes · View notes

carnivalcarriondiscarded · 3 months

Text

ON THE TOPIC OF BARNABY. as well as his relationship with Wally.

So. To kick this off - Riv (@funonion) and I were Speculating, and they introduced me to the johari window:

They put Barnaby in the “facade” section, and I entirely agree. To quote them;

“So he’s Wally’s guide, right? He’s the “knowledgeable” one of the two and is always the one teaching him new things. And you know, it’s one thing if you’re just teaching him how to laugh or how to tell a joke. But.

Clown has given us two doors. One says that Barnaby understands Wally in a way the rest of the neighborhood doesn’t, and is willing to do his dirty work so to speak. The other says that their friendship was not a natural occurring thing and had to be enforced repeatedly within the show. HOW THAT’S BEING ENFORCED IS ANOTHER THING ENTIRELY but it is worth it to note.

What is Barnaby willing to keep? What is he willing to bury for his little buddy? I can’t say anything definitively yet, but the fact that I even have to ask is telling. The class clown archetype is usually used as a way to cover up for something else a character might be experiencing”

And my response, (I won’t directly quote because I have little things in the phrasing & elaboration to add / tweak );

Barnaby being a Comic Relief Character immediately raised so many alarms in my head. I love comic relief characters. They’re always so fucked up in one way or another, and Barnaby is almost certainly SO inauthentic. He’s wearing a comedy mask just as opaque as Wally’s own mask. In everything we’ve seen about him so far he’s either Teaching Wally, wisecracking/joking, or… pretty much nothing else. We got that moment of concern in audio 14-14, but that doesn’t reveal anything beyond genuine care for Wally.

Comedic characters have the best disguises. Their poker faces & ability to deflect is always top tier [and practiced], and just look at comedy-focused actors and entertainers - so many of them have severe issues, either with their mental health or life. From what i’ve observed both in that aspect & with fictional characters, they play it off & work hard to entertain/deflect [one in the same] right up until the end. Sometimes it’s a coping mechanism. Usually it’s both. If they laugh loud enough and make people think they’re lighthearted fools w/ nothing underneath, no one will look any deeper and thus they’re “safe”.

& I’m a little suspicious that Barnaby’s red/orange/yellow spots aren’t naturally those colors. While yes, he could be (in-universe) designed that way to echo Ms. Beagle, there’s a strong possibility that that’s not it. What if he paints them to feel a connection to her, or it’s a physical manifestation of Barnaby covering up his insecurities/issues - what if it’s part of him striving to convince the world that he is what he paints himself as.

The laidback funnyguy with a loving mom and not a problem in the world.

And I mean, Barnaby claims to be a natural blue and I believe him! But the other colors? I’m doubtful

(I was going to include the Cast As Lil Kids Designs in this since Barnaby has all blue spots, but given how early in 2021 it was posted and how there seem to be little discrepancies from the ~official~ designs, I don’t want to provide it as evidence.)

& on the topic of Wally and Barnaby’s relationship being both real and not - disclaimer, this conversation happened before my Updated Thoughts On Them post, so there may be some minor rephrasing here from what I originally said - I’m sure that the relationship started out as inauthentic. Wally was assigned Barnaby as a best friend and technically vice versa, but I don’t doubt for a second that it became real to some extent. Clown wouldn’t treat their relationship outside of “canon” WH stuff the way that he does if they weren’t actually friends. They’ve said that Wally & Barnaby would be friends in every universe (which melts my heart <3 platonic soulmates my beloved <3), so then I have to agree with Riv. what WILL Barnaby do for Wally? I touched on this in the Milk Theory, but especially if Barnaby prides himself on “knowing Wally better than anything else”, what would Barn do to preserve that?

This relates to another conversation we had - Barnaby possibly having abandonment issues. It’s such a choice to have him of all characters be explicitly stated as an orphan. That and while every other Neighbor with a mentioned family have a somewhat large one (Howdy and his gajillion relatives, Julie and her three siblings, Poppy and her crowded tree [note: Eddie has a mentioned mother, but that info is tenuous and who knows if there are other Dears]), Barnaby has also explicitly stated that Ms. Beagle is his only family. That’s it. And farm life can’t be a sociable way to grow up, not with all the chores he must have had and how rural he might have grown up. Barnaby jokes that Home is the “Big Apple”, which could just be a joke - but jokes often come from a place of truth, and Home might be the most populated area Barnaby has lived in. Who’s to say!

Either way, Barnaby was orphaned one way or another, and I don’t doubt that it weighs on him. Especially if his birth parents really did abandon him. That added to a possible life of loneliness… I wonder if he’s latched onto Wally emotionally, which would hit all the painful places if it turns out that my “Barnaby is more attached to Wally than Wally is to Barnaby” theory has merit. Abandonment issues could also strongly back the apparent walls he’s plastered over with circus tent fabric

Back to Barnaby & Wally: the fact that, at present, Barnaby and Wally seem to have the best disguises / strongest masks. That. looking at 14-14, i suspect that Barnaby is excellent at keeping his up, but as soon as Wally’s mask cracks, so does Barnaby’s.

And then there’s the side of their dynamic that we could look at - it seems to be a very multifaceted relationship. The way that Barnaby genuinely cares yet in the 00 Halloween audio Wally was left off to the side and Barnaby was just “checking on him” while socializing (then again, this could be part of Barnaby understanding Wally & respecting his space / Wally wanting a break from that socialization). Barnaby is patient with Wally and yet he seems to sometimes treat Wally as his sidekick / let him fade into the background and yet Barnaby kept checking in on Wally during the 14 bug audios (this last one I could tie into the abandonment issues theory).

Then there’s how Barnaby calls Wally kid & can tend to treat him like one despite both of them being in the same age group. The way that all of this could, in a way, relate to the infantilization of autistic people (no matter how well-meaning or unintentional) & internalized ableism.

Note: Riv pointed out that Barnaby does seem to be doing the best with what he has, and that this can connect to the Johari Window’s blind spot / unknown.

I do agree with this wholeheartedly! And I have to mention that - and making a Very educated guess here - the interactions we’ve seen take place in the very late 60s / very early 70s, so Barnaby’s behavior towards Wally is actually pretty fucking stellar given the time period. We can’t expect him to be perfect or do everything / say everything right. That would be boring I think! And one thing I deeply appreciate about the Neighbors & their dynamics is that they feel like real layered people, not cardboard cutouts being perfect caricatures of what people are “supposed” to be like.

Riv also presented this:

We likely are going to reach a point where Wally asks Barnaby something that he can’t / doesn’t want to / won’t answer. And like.. Ok. This is a slight tangent but I swear it’s related! When I first discovered WH and learned the Wally basics, I wondered two things.

Are we going to watch Wally “discover” new emotions? Because he certainly has them. Clown has said that Wally only ever feels happy, and a lot of people took that to mean that Wally can’t feel anything else. I don’t think we should take that answer at face value, because. I mean. Look at the project & creator we’re talking about. Layers, guys. Indirect direct answers. I think that Clown meant that Wally only ever feels happy in the Neighborhood because he has no reason to feel any negative emotion. Everything is as it should be. Until it isn’t - and I think that’s where he’s going to have to struggle with new emotions as he encounters them through new situations/events unfolding as the “story” starts to deteriorate. We’ve actually seen this a little bit - in Wally’s record audios (i believe the chronological second to last?), the way he says “Let Me In” so insistently. That’s definitely not a positive emotion being expressed.

How will the topic of death be handled - because it will be handled, it’s stated in the project warnings. I was wondering this even before I read the list, because I was presented with a blank slate puppet character and so went “oh fuck, this dude doesn’t know about death, does he?” Obviously I wanted to know how that would go. I want to know how it Will go!

How would Barnaby explain emotions that Wally doesn’t know how to convey? How would Barnaby explain death in a way that Wally would understand - given that Barnaby (& all the Neighbors sans Wally) knows what death is - and would Barnaby be willing to explain such a thing? I have a feeling we may find out.

And in a way, I suspect that if none of them know, Wally will find out himself and have to process it without help. But then again, how can something die if it was never really alive in the first place? Unless the death warning relates to human characters… I’m currently assuming it relates to both humans and puppets.

In conclusion: Barnaby has a carefully fabricated facade, he's doing the best with what he has but it likely won't be enough, and uh. shits fucked!

#AGH I HOPE IM PUTTING THESE POSTS TOGETHER CORRECTLY.#I HAVE TWO DAYS TO WRITE AND POST THEM ALL #but anyway another thing i was wondering in relation to barnaby & wally having an imbalanced relationship was #the possibility of:#howdy < barnaby < wally < home #as in the <[x] character is more important to the [y]< character than [y] is to [x]#because howdy does seem to like barnaby a whole hell of a lot but we don't know if barnaby feels so strongly back #idk. i feel like i might be seeing a little domino line being set up here. and im Nervous <3 #what happens if the first domino falls? who will it be? how hard will it fall.#who's to say if that has any merit i just wanted to mention it! its intriguing to me #(& to be clear since im aware of my laughingstock rep - im not talkin about shippy dominoes)#(i take off the shipping goggles for analysis. howdy can fully cherish barn as a Friend while still being [y]<)#homebogging #welcome home speculation #wh speculation #i feel like i have more in my brain but. im dealing with minor flu symptoms and im exhausted <3 #today was a Lot <3 #so i'll queue this for around 10 & hopefully I'll be awake & with the next post written for you guys!

107 notes · View notes

itsjaywalkers · 4 months

Text

nothing happens

jegulus | M | 3 parts of ?

James and Regulus meet when they're kids, and it doesn't take them long to become friends. Best friends, even. And it's fine, because they're young, and love is easy and simple, and it can't be mistaken for anything else.

Then they grow. And their friendship turns into something else entirely. But it should still be fine if nothing changes, right?

If nothing happens.

71 notes · View notes

doodle-with-alizard · 6 months

Text

HIYA!! Guess what I finished!!?

This is my first ever public pattern so I hope you guys will enjoy it as much as I do!

#im so nervous posting this cuz ive never made a proper sewing pattern before so i dont know what the hell im doing #AHHH #but some of you guys really wanted to use it so 😤✊️#sewing #free sewing pattern #sewing patterns #plush pattern #plushie #free plush pattern #crafts

147 notes · View notes

plulp · 9 months

Text

yknow kylar isnt my favorite character but the owl plushie really raised the bar by like maybe 30%

#my art #dol #harper the doctor #whitney the bully #kylar the loner #colors are a little WACKY because i was using a brush thats CRAAAAZY (not crazy. pretty normal but its okay)#sorry i dont post EVER #i have more dol sketches but im just a guy and i get embarrassed if i dont like the drawing enough LMAO #every time i have to test draw something i always draw harper #if i save every harper i draw this account would never be dead ever #anyways im having my own personal dol renaissance (playing it again)#if you want to reblog just send me an ask and ill unlock it but im a little nervous about people rbing my art still :( sorry #thank you for everyone who was like 'please let me rb this' for my harper thing i appreciate it so much but i dont like that piece enough #to set it free.#i drew another harper as consolation but i never posted it because i didnt like that one EITHER. im crazy #turning rbs on. for you.

123 notes · View notes

b1mbodoll · 2 months

Text

hihi ! i’m sososo extremely sorry for bein a bit ia lately!!! i recently celebrated my 21st bday n have been busy with birthday plans and just life in general !!!! but i have a few lil announcements bcus ive received lots of asks n dms recently n have a lot to discuss so i would appreciate if you all took the time to read this 🎀

first of all, i am super iffy about sharing my private life on here and do not appreciate questions regarding my hometown / where i’m from / even asking my ethnicity is a big no because you can nvr be too careful online. i’ve also gotten questions asking about why ive been so busy / not been writing and i hughly dislike them bc they seem intrusive and demanding. i have a life outside of tumblr and will not be sharing private details about myself with people i’m not close to!!!! i love my anons and followers so much n u guys know this but please respect my boundaries.

secondly, i’ve also received asks regarding a situation between an ex mutual of mine and i from a few months back and would greatly appreciate if they stopped!!!!! i wont go into detail about it because i honestly just want to forget about that person and the situation due to the mental distress it caused me and the negative feelings brought up when they / the situation are brought up, so again, please refrain from asking me about it because asks will be deleted and i will block you from sending anonymous asks if this persists.

third of all, i’ve been doing a lot of thinking regarding this and i won’t be taking official requests anymore. i love writing and fulfilling your fantasies n thoughts about idols but i’ve received too many demanding and hateful asks from people when their request is not posted. my asks will always be open for thirsting and suggesting ideas n if i enjoy it i’ll elaborate!!!!! but please do not expect a reply to every single ask sent it, i am only one person :( it breaks my heart to stop taking requests but it’s ultimately the best thing for me and my mental health.

lastly, PLEASE read my rules before sending in your thirsts / ideas / suggestions. time and time again i’ve had to reiterate boundaries and things i won’t write about because people are not taking the time to check my pinned posts and it’s tiring having to see multiple requests for kinks / scenarios i absolutely do not write for. it isn’t hard to check an author’s dni / byf and overall rules before asking something of them!!!!!!!!!!

oh one more thing!!!! i absolutely do NOT write for stray kids. they make me extremely uncomfortable and i don’t even have them listed in my “who i write for” section of my pinned post so, kindly, stop sending asks about them or i will have to block you :(

#♡.gabi barks #im so nervous to post this please dont hate me guys :(#i promise im not posting this to be mean or to shade anyone or anything like that! ive just been a little tired of having my boundaries #constantly disrespected and it’s really disheartening to receive asks demanding for their rq to be answered or #being reminded of such an awful experience that occured on here

36 notes · View notes

penheadie · 19 days

Text

alright ramshackle fans (mostly for the stone fans) im ready to break your hearts with some sad theories and headcanons so angst fanfiction writers and artists take this and do with it what you will. this is one of the headcanons i feel most confident in and most proud about so tell me what you think. the theory that the necklace that stone wears around his neck isn't actually a medallion but rather its a dog tag from his deceased pet (i think people do in fact make jewelry using tags from their passed pets as a means to keep their loved ones close even in death) lets be honest im pretty sure stone would grieve far more about the loss of losing a dog than give a rats ass about his horrible biological shithole family. im pretty sure it would be one of the more traumatic moments in his young life knowing his only sense of comfort and safety is cruelly slipped away and taken from his grasp while he had to sit there and watch as he could do nothing to save them. before he got addicted to drugs and alcohol as a means to progress through life after running away from home. (important note: stone does not hate cats he just prefers dogs over them because he grew up with them)

#ramshackle #ramshackle stone #stone #ramshackle discussion #ramshackle rambles #ramshackle headcanon #rambles #what do you guys think please let me know agree disagree #im so shy and nervous about posting this #i dont know if the world needed more ramshackle headcanons

48 notes · View notes

betheflyinggrapes · 8 months

Text

i may have a new favourite

#fear and hunger #fear and hunger termina #daan von dutch #fear and hunger daan #i dont know how to tag this ngl #im so nervous posting these skndkandksmkd #anyway i have brainot n it refuses to keep me silent about this guy #marcoh is there too ig #i still cant figure out how to draw him

97 notes · View notes

sluckythewizard · 2 months

Text

BUT IM NOT A WRITER. something strange possessed me to write my first proper fanfic in maybe a decade. be niceys to me but also grill me so i can get stronger. this one is a stupidly self indulgent bit between Soda and Emizel, a day or so after emizel was sired. CW for gore descriptions, but thats about it i think. image below is a snippet of the start. the rest of the whole dang thing will be under the cut. ive never posted fanfic ever in my life. read my tags for secret behind da scenes commentary

"Oh shit… I think hes dead…" It was another night, another patrol, another fight, and another win, for Emizel and Soda.

Under moonlight, under street light, under interwoven wires above, the two stood here in a quiet and damp alleyway. The air was drenched with the smell of a previous rain, and the puddles of said storm remain huddled in corners and pot holes.

One splashed as soda found himself stepping forwards into one. The residual adrenaline of the fight had left his body shaking, his heart still pounding, his wounds still throbbing. They had still won; or more-so, Emizel had won. A particularly nasty blow to the side had Soda reduced to the side lines for most of the fight, left to watch as his newly vampiric comrade had absolutely eviscerated the competition.

Emizel had only been turned a day ago, but it was impossible not to notice how it had changed him. He already acted so goddamn confident, so on top of the world, and this newfound power, newfound speed and strength, only built upon his insane ego.

The Fangs that they encountered here on this night stood no fucking chance. Emizel was too quick, too strong, and he easily chased off the rivals. It was only now, as the final unfortunate opponent had turned to flee, a clean clock in the jaw sent the human tumbling to the ground with a dull thump, and it did not move afterward.

Soda shifts his shoe out of the puddle, the cold seeping into his sock being one of the few things keeping his mind in his body in the moment. Is the guy breathing?

A low laugh bleeds from Emizel as he stretches his arms, licking his sharpened teeth as he stares off in the direction the remaining Fangs went. Soda knew that look on his face, the look of a tiger pondering on its next kill, he knew well that Emizel wanted to chase them.

But the guy on the ground.. It was one punch to the face, and the wicked crack sound that came from it had planted a seeding dread within Sodas chest.

As he steps forward, around the puddle, the resulting sound made Emizels attention click back over to Soda, the snap of his gaze making Soda flinch.

The two lock eyes, and Soda weakly gestures to the limp body on the floor. "The uh.. I think.. Is that guy dead?" He finally asks, having a hard time keeping contact with Emizels intensely red eyes.

Emizel turns his attention to said body, tilting his head as he goes to kick at the thing, turning it over. "Man no way hes dead, I punched him once." He mutters.

"Well, yeah, but his head almost twisted all the way around when you did.." Soda steps up to stand beside Emizel, the two boys standing with their hands in their pockets, down at this unfortunate, limp body.

"Should we hide it?" Soda asks, glancing back over at Emizel, who had.. An odd look on his face. He was clearly pondering something, but Soda could only guess whatever was going on in that brilliant head of his. He knew and trusted that Emizel was smart. If anyone could figure out what to do about this, it would be him.

But the lack of an answer had anxiety chewing at the back of Sodas rib cage, and after a second, he speaks up again, compelled to fill what he perceived as a tense silence. "Like.. I dunno, I've never uh... killed a guy..." He shrugs, prompting Emizel to let out a big sigh.

"He's not dead man, just out fuckin cold." Emizel kneels down next to the body, putting an ear up to its chest, and pondering on that for a moment. An uncertainty twists his expression, as he decides to instead place a hand on the victims throat, checking for a pulse. A moment passes, and seemingly finding nothing, he pulls back.

"Uh... Okay, so he might be dead."

Something about the confirmation from Emizel made a shiver run up Sodas spine. That, or maybe it was just the breeze agitating the cold water in his shoe.

"Huh… Damn.." Was all that Soda could really get to leave his mouth. Which was hardly a splash compared to the torrent that was slowly churning in his head. They just killed a guy. Or, Emizel just killed a guy. And it was so easy. They had to hide the body now, right? That was the usual progression here? Getting caught for murder was way more extreme than getting caught for breaking mailboxes with soda cans. It was so, so disturbingly easy. It really was just one punch. It's not like the Fangs are weak by any means, so just one punch? And this guy is dead? Forever?

Or, perhaps by human means, their rivals were fairly tough. But Emizel was on a whole other level. No mortal could stand up to him now...

"Hey, are you okay?"

The question had pulled Soda back from his head, his gaze flicking back over to Emizel, who was looking up at him with those eerie, piercing red eyes. Soda felt another shiver.

"Uh, ieah man, I'm all good." Soda nods, swallowing down whatever anxiety was bubbling up in his throat.

But Emizel didn't seem satisfied by his answer, standing back up and staring down his human comrade. Soda couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze instead traveling downward, and pausing on Emizels red, cut-up shirt. There was something off about the color, the way it seemed darker in some spots, brighter in others.. Wait, wasn't Emizel wearing a white shirt before all this?

The vampire boy seems to pick up on Sodas expression, following his eyes down to his shirt. "Oh, yeah! While you were on the floor, the knife guy got me a little" He says, a stupidly simple smile on his face. Soda was about to let out a laugh at how unbothered his friend seemed by it, but it gets caught in his throat when Emizel goes to pull his shirt up.

The sound of the bloodied fabric peeling away from skin made Sodas own skin crawl, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the sight of the intense gash running from his collar bone, down to his stomach.

"Oh, fuck dude!" Soda gasps, but Emizel laughs it off. Even despite knowing Emizel well, Soda was still surprised by just how much Emizel could shrug off. "Shit, doesn't that hurt, dude?"

"Oh yeah this fucking hurts!" he says with a laugh, his smile big and toothy and proud as he presents this egregious wound. Swollen and angry, pulsing with a slow heartbeat, and still oozing with thick, dark blood.

The sight of the split flesh, and the glints of bone beneath the dark, dark red all tugged at Sodas gag reflex, and yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. So Emizel's just been walking and talking so normally this whole time with his chest just cleaved wide open? Soda felt just as impressed as he felt horrified.

It wasn't until Emizel reaches down to poke at the abhorrent wound that Soda snaps out of it. Watching his friend press his fingers into the bloodied flesh, and slowly pulling it apart, allowing more ichor to seep from the gash, it was too much to watch at this point.

Soda reaches up to put a hand on Emizels wrist, the vampire boy stopping, and looking up at his friend.

Soda found himself freezing again when he locks eyes with Emizel. He was going to say something now, right? "U-uhm.." Is all he really chokes out, giving Emizels wrist a gentle tug. "D-do you. Uh. I suppose a hospital Isn't a place you can go anymore..?"

Emizel just smirks at that, letting Soda pull his hand away from the wound. "Oh, yeah no, but it's fine. I mean, I don't think it's gonna kill me" He shrugs. It was so, so impressive just how unphased Emizel was by all this. Fuck he's actually so cool.

"Well yeah man but it's like, still a bleeding hole. Like you're soaked in blood dude, I'm pretty sure that even a vampire needs that stuff on like, the inside." Soda rubs the back of his head, still unnerved by the sight of it all. "Vampires have like, super healing, don't they?"

"Oh yeah like, regeneration powers. I know I heal faster sometimes but I dunno how to just, activate it on command.." Emizel hums, his eyes narrowing down at his own injury, as if trying to will it into mending. Soda looks away, unable to watch that vile gash ooze any longer.

"I dunno man, how do they do it in like, video games?" Soda tosses the question out, trying to click together some sort of solution in his own head.

"Uhhh.. Huh, video games.." Emizel repeats to himself, chewing on the thought while idly poking at the laceration; until an idea audibly flickers to life in his head. "Oh, I just gotta refill my blood meter. Or whatever."

"Oooh yeah, blood meter!" Soda perks up, "Of course, see this is why you're the brains, man" Soda smiles, glancing back over to his cool friend, but immediately needing to look away again when the sight of that egregious gash tugs bile back into his throat.

While Soda averts his eyes, Emizels eyes wander back over to the body, and that classic 'Emizel has a bad idea' smile creeps across his face.

"Well, if this guys dead, I'm sure he's not gonna need all that blood.." He grins, kneeling down next to the body again.

The word 'wait' had hardly gotten the chance to crawl from Sodas mouth, before Emizel lifts up the arm of the unfortunate body, pulling the sleeve back, and immediately sinking his teeth into the exposed wrist.

The sound and the sight of blood gushing around Emizels teeth made Soda cringe, his hand impulsively coming up to aide his own wrist. An empathetic phantom pain made his wrist ache, his imagination simulating the feeling of shark teeth cutting into skin, sinking deep into the flesh, and clacking against bone. That was a lot of blood, that was streaming down the arm of this fodder.

A low growl bleeds from Emizel as he adjusts his teeth, cutting into more flesh, opening the wound further, and allowing a pulsing torrent of red to stream down his chin, onto his coat. It was an annoying thing, to clean blood out of clothing. Most of the Demons deemed it easier to just let the stains remain. But the night that Emizels throat was torn open, and liters upon liters were granted freedom from his human form, the unbelievable mess had practically changed half the color of Emizels iconic coat.

That was the first time Soda had ever seen that much blood from one person. And well. This would probably be the second.

The sight was unnerving, but it was impossible to look away. The alley was quiet, save for the distant bustle of a distant city, which made the noisy squish and squelch of teeth gnawing on flesh all the more apparent and nauseating.

Emizel had become a monster for sure, and watching it feed on something was… thrilling, in a way. It reminded Soda of feeding a pet spider, or lizard. A mouse for a snake.

It's a heavy thing to witness, the end of a human life. The fear of death is a primal thing, and Soda was no different from any other living thing. He figured everyone else feared death just as much as he does. Well, maybe except for Emizel, of course.

It made sense. Emizel was such a cocky and noisy kind of guy, but hes always had the power to back it up. Even when he lost, or seemed at his lowest, Soda still saw this sort of fire in him, one that Soda admired.

Of course Emizel would be the one to become something like a vampire. Something that Soda had always figured was just a fantasy creature thing. He wondered; if vampires were real, what else was real? Werewolves? Zombies? Unicorns? Are there real demons? Like from hell? Is hell real? Is he going to hell?

The sudden ttteeeeaaaaarrrr of flesh rips soda from his wandering thoughts. Emizel was tugging his head away from the arm of his kill, his teeth clamped down into the chewed meat, and pulling it apart. Soda had seldom seen so much of the inside of a human arm, and the sight of spilling threads and squirming veins was hardly something he ever wanted to stomach again.

"Oh fuck, dude, hey-" Soda steps forward, raising a hand, but the way Emizel snaps his head back over to him, twisting to an unnatural degree, Soda cant help jolting back.

Reddened teeth glint menacingly in the low light, a threatening growl thundering from its clenched, dripping jaws. Emizels eyes were focused, yet wild, glowing with whatever light they could reflect.

Sodas eyes were wide, and his body was frozen in the thick, electric tension within the air. It was like staring down an angry dog.. Suddenly a light bulb in his head flickers to life. It was kind of like an angry dog, right? One hunched over a meal it didn't want to give up. Memories of old encounters and unfortunate dog bites resurface in Sodas head, and with that experience, and with those lessons learned, he gathers the courage to react.

He shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for a few seconds, as he slowly pulls back his arm, and slowly steps back. It was an eye contact thing, wasn't it? Eye contact makes dogs angry, right? That was how you dealt with an angry dog? As he pulls back, and takes in a breath for composure, he finally dares to peek at the angry vampire before him again.

Its snarling had died down, but its eyes were still trained intently on Soda. After a tense, and agonizingly, slow pause... It blinks back, lowering its head back down to its meal, but keeping its anxious stare on this potential threat.

A relieved sigh falls from soda as the tension finally melts. He didnt realize he was holding in so much of his breath. "O-okay, man.. It's yours, you uh.. Earned it.." Soda mutters, stepping back further, until he was standing in a sufficiently dry enough space to sit down in. Now that he wasn't standing, he was finally taking into mind just how much his hands were shaking.

It's odd. Soda couldn't really describe this feeling thrumming in his chest as something like fear.. Nausea? For sure. Disturbed and rattled? Oh absolutely. This was certainly a sight he would have a hard time scrubbing from his eyelids when he sleeps tonight. But he wasn't scared. The memory of the night that Emizel was sired still coated the inside of his mind like an unwashable film. Even in that moment, when the unnatural teeth from the unnatural maw of an unnatural thing hovered over his throat, he couldn't say with confidence that he was scared.

Emizel really is his best friend in the world. And he knows with his whole heart that Emizel feels the same. He knew and trusted that his best friend would never hurt him. Not too badly at least. He loves Emizel, and would give anything to support him.

Like a mouse to a snake.

This really is an incredible power that his comrade had come across, and Soda especially felt a sort of pride in his friend. He felt it was worth it to help him feed it.

The bile in his throat had made its point, and Soda agreed, that watching someone die, and get torn apart and drained might be too much for him. Despite how much he hated the Fangs, the end of any human life seemed like such a jarring thing. To have such an intense fear finally get confronted. Would he go to hell?

Maybe he couldn't just feed people to his friend. So an alternative could be donated blood, right? Soda wouldn't mind giving up something like blood. His body makes it for free, after all. Maybe some other Demons would agree to give up some blood too. But they shouldn't have to take on such a burden. Soda wouldn't mind being the only one. The only one. The only one.

His hand comes up to rub at his neck, as his imagination conjures up what it might feel like to have teeth sink into his flesh. He's been stabbed before, is that sort of what it would feel like? Would he have to get stitches? He didn't really want to get stitches, so maybe there could be a more effective way to get the blood out of him. And there was so much vital stuff in his neck too. There's' a vein that's safe to cut into somewhere, right? He would have to look that up later.

A STARTLING RINGING;

Splits the moment,

Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,

As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.

Acting as if nothing abnormal had taken place, Emizel pulls out his phone, and answers it.

"Heyy, Johnny! Yeah we chased em off, I don't think those bastards will be infesting this street again anytime soon. Yeah, ieah we'll be heading back soon. Oh fuck yeah dude, save us some!"

Emizel covers the speaker of his Nokia, turning back to Soda with a big smile on his violently bloodied face. "They got some pizza waiting for us back home, dude!" he whispers out to him.

Soda does his best to crack a smile, and to suppress the look of unease that probably stained his face, as he stares at the literal murder scene that's been splattered about in front of him.

"Oh, yeah, hell yeah man.." He swallows down the bile again. "What kind of uh.. Soda did they get?"

Emizel ponders that, before turning back to the phone to ask Sodas question.

"Sprite and a big pack of that one strawberry mountain dew" Emizel tosses the answer back over to Soda, who gives a nod, and thumbs up.

Mountain dew is so neat, Soda really liked all the wacky flavors those guys come up with. The thought of going home and opening a can of soda was certainly a comfort. After witnessing all this blood and gore and viscera, Soda absolutely needed to get back home and get a nice cold glass of something bright red .

As Sodas mind wanders off to soda, Emizel wraps up the conversation on the phone, before hanging up, and standing up.

The movement had pulled Sodas mind back into the moment, enough for him to timidly voice a concern he's had since the start of this debacle.

"Uh, hey, so.. The body, should we… Uh.." He gestures vaguely to it, and Emizel grants it a nonchalant glance.

"Eh, I can toss it into a dumpster or something, I dunno. I'm sure its fine. I'll handle it."

The vampire boy goes to pick up the corpse, the wound in its mangled arm no longer even dripping with blood, the flesh pale from the absolute absence of red in its veins.

"Go ahead and meet me by that one mailbox, the one with the bullet hole in it." Emizel casually instructs, tossing the drained body over his shoulder. "I'll catch up."

"Uh, yeah, okay.." Soda musters up a nod, and the strength to rise back up to his feet, wincing as that bruise on his side makes itself loudly known again. He still felt anxious, but even despite it all, he knew he could trust Emizel to take care of things. He always does. "Just stay safe man, I'll see you there." Soda assures with a smile, and Emizel matches it, tossing him a wink. And then suddenly- -He's gone! If Soda had blinked he would've missed it, but he was fortunate enough to just barely catch the glimpse of Emizel darting off at an inhuman speed, probably looking for a place to dump the body. Right, he would take care of it. Emizel always makes sure his crew is taken care of. Well... Guess all that's left for Soda is for him to walk back to that meeting spot. He looks around the alley for a moment, taking in the sight of that enormous pool of blood in the middle of the concrete. Or whatever the floor of this alley is made from. He ponders on the present moment a little longer than he meant to, the shock of it all leaving him aimless for just a few, soothing moments of just, decompression. The night is quiet, vast, and cold, but the stresses of just the past 5 hours had left his body radiating with fiery aches and pains, so the chill of the occasional clawing breeze was welcomed. Except for when said breeze agitated the cold water still soaked into his sock. He should step in another puddle on his way back to even it out. The smell of rain still rested heavy in the air, heralding another storm on the horizon. There was that, and then, well, there was also the blood. The stench of it felt far too intense to just ignore it, the metallic miasma making itself maliciously unmistakable. Maybe the impending storm will wash this mess away... He looked forward to putting this unfortunate night behind him. With one last rattled, but deep breath, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns away, strolling back over to the mailbox that Emizel had described.

He couldn't wait to get home and drink some soda with his friends.

#NO TAGS ON THIS ONE BC WELL. IM SHY. IM TAKING A BIG LEAP JUST BY ALLOWING U TO REBLOG THIS. IF IT BREAKS CONTAINMENT THATS UR FAULT.#i unfortunately suffer from the disease of 'i hate everything i write the day after i write it' BUT IM GETTING TREATED #I WILL NOT BE HAUNTED BY THIS WEAKNESS FOREVER. AND HEY LOOK THIS IS THE FIRST ACTUAL FIC BIT IVE EVER FINISHED..#ITS SOMETHING TO BE PROUD OF!! AND BY JOBE I WILL BE PROUD EVEN IF I HATE IT.#i dont always need to be the one who likes my art bc i know Someone out there will always enjoy it.#and to that someone i say: omg thankyou i LOOOOVEE YOUUUUUU!!!!!#JUST DELETED A WHOLE RAMBLE I JUST HAD ABT NERVOUS DISCLAIMERS FOR MY ART BUT I DONT NEED EM!!#GET CONFIDENT GET CONFIDENT GET CONFIDENT. ANYWAY. so emizel and soda huh #THEYRE SO CUTE TOGEEHTERRRR TEEHEHEHEHEEEE they are the homies that kiss eachother goodnight like CMON #but uhh so hey your bestest friend in da world just got turned into a freaky creature thing that eats ppl #ieah yknowthe guy that u care about alot that u had to watch get bled out by another freaky creature thing in an alleyway #yeaaah and you were super hurt and weak and stupid and u couldnt do jack nor shit to help him #what was i talking about again. RIGHT so hes even cooler now bc he cant die n hes super strong n his arms can be knives. sometimes.#but also he can eat people now. and sometimes he cant stop himself from eating people. and thats kinda scary. but in a cool way.#but also in a disturbing way. but also in an interesting way?but also in a freaky way.the feelings ARE MIXED!!!ATLEAST I THINK THEY WOULD B #okay again i havnt listened to the suckening ina bit. so its been a minute since i absorbed their personalities. i could be misreading or #misremembering or misconstruing or mischaracterizing or WHATEVER. i think the confusion carries its intended effect #LOSING MY TRAIN O THOUGHT. anyway i love soda n emizel i hope they get locked in a saw trap together or somethign. for enrichment.#TALOS GRANT ME THE STRENGHT TO POST MY CREATIONS ON LINE!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUGHHH!!!!!!!

21 notes · View notes