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#you ever write something stupid
lungache · 3 months
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a present for the much loved @sunriseverse
have some imperfect fem iron triangle cuddles! as a treat!!!
Wu Xie wakes up with a face full of tit. Usually, this would be a delight! Except Wu Xie can't breathe, made all the worse by the fact that Pangzi is half laying on top of her, pressing down her chest with her not-insignificant heft. Whenever she imagined suffocating to death in a tomb, she has to admit, she never expected breasts to be involved... which, when you put it that way, is not a bad way to go.
Not the point. The point is she's asphyxiating.
With no small amount of effort, she manages to shove Pangzi off her enough that she can gulp down air, her poor broken lungs wheezing from the effort. Pangzi doesn't wake up, just shifts away from the pushing, the arm she has thrown over Wu Xie dragging her closer. She can't move but at least she can breathe.
On her other side, she can feel Xiaoge move just the tiniest amount. The sound must have woken her up, but she doesn't turn from where she's laying facing chamber they set up camp in, still monitoring their surroundings, clearly trusting Wu Xie not to die in such a pathetic way. Wu Xie extends an arm, pressing the side of it against the length of Xiaoge's spine, a quiet acknowledgement. She doesn't expect anything in return, so she's surprised when Xiaoge scoots in closer, pressing her back to Wu Xie, letting the curve of it rest in the soft angle of Wu Xie's side. It pins Wu Xie's arm, essentially immobilized. Wu Xie huffs out a laugh. They have her thoroughly trapped. What a perfect place to be.
-
Pangzi's wives are the biggest heat leeches of all time, Pangzi is sure of it. During the winter, they steal all of Pangzi's blankets and sweaters, give her big sad cow eyes until she makes them tea and soup, and glue themselves to her side at any given moment. Even on the coldest days, Pangzi has a nice layer of insulation that keeps her warmer than the others, but more than that she just runs hot naturally. Xiaoge and Wu Xie take full advantage of it throughout the day, but it's the worst at night.
Pangzi is the only one with something approximating a bedtime (she's old, leave her alone) while her partners tend to stay up late, Wu Xie with her books and Xiaoge enjoying time outside or in her various nooks around the property.  Pangzi gets in, laying dead center on the bed on her back, and waits. She doesn't have to wait long, however, because, sure enough, five minutes later she hears them scurrying around in the bathroom and closet. She feels both sides of the blanket lift and the bed dip and Pangzi just sighs and opens her arms, an invitation that is swiftly taken advantage of. They cuddle up on either side of her, pressing their cold skin to hers. Wu Xie tangles her freezing feet with Pangzi's, having not even bothering with socks like a inconsiderate ass she is. Pangzi traps them between her calves to warm them up and Wu Xie wiggles her toes.
Xiaoge is like a heat sink, always nearly unnaturally cold-- sometimes to a degree that worries Pangzi. She shoves her icicle hands against Pangzi, one stuck between Pangzi's back and the mattress, the other up her shirt, tucked under the swell of her breast. Her skin breaks out into goosebumps, freezing, and she groans.
"Menaces, the both of you. Can't you leave your poor wife to rest peacefully for once?"
Despite her complaints, she wraps her arms tight around the both of them, pulling them in close, and lets them steal all the warmth they can stand. They can have it all.
-
It's been a long, exhausting week. It isn't often that Xiaoge goes off on her own since the they're "retired" but sometimes she just needs to get away. She loves her partners deeply but they can also be a lot, so she keeps thinking this will be a solution. But they're hers, and every time she leaves she always finds herself immediately yearning for home.
She gets back in the middle of the night, dusty, tired, and grumpy. her only thought is to drag herself to bed and sleep off the long trip. She kicks out of her boots at the door, already hearing Pangzi's much-loved naggy voice complaining about her tracking her tomb stained footprints around the house. But instead of that frustrating her further she only feels warm. She missed Pangzi, she missed both of them, and the reminder that they are near is enough to lift her spirits, even if just the tiniest bit. The house is silent and dark and something in her settles in the peaceful stillness of her home. (Home, she still thinks with no small amount of wonder, she has a home, now.) She pads through the house in socked feet, making a beeline for the bedroom.
Bundled up under the blankets are the two people she loves most in the world. They're tangled only loosely, Wu Xie having flung herself to the side in her sleep and Pangzi not having pulled her back in like an octopus yet. Xiaoge stares at the space between the two of them with such intense longing. Perhaps... Stripping quickly, she climbs into bed, wiggling and squirming until she is under the blanket, contorting her body so he can fit in the little space without bothering the two of them. It's so warm and perfect. She thinks it couldn't get better than this, being so close. Pangzi proves her wrong.
"Xiaoge'r," she slurs, flopping onto her side, arm flung around Xiaoge, pulling her close against her chest. It's heaven. There is only one way it could be better... and then Pangzi is grabbing Wu Xie by the far shoulder, tugging her so she flops on top over against Xiaoge's other side, in what is technically a spoon but is really just a lean. Despite clearly still being asleep, Wu Xie presses a clumsy kiss to the back of her neck. It's everything she could ever want and more.
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iceicewifey · 2 months
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so um... i found a pose reference that gave me big vanishay vibes, but then i got carried away then tried to turn it into a lore moment for some reason? 😭
i don’t totally like how his arm looks plus i couldn’t get him low enough because the height difference was making it a really awkward angle, but that’s what i get for copying the anime style again... it’s janky but close enough lmao full disclosure vanilla's bangs and face are heavily referenced bc they were giving me the most grief to copy, no thanks to all those damn little LINES. reference + transparent vers. under the cut!
𝚝𝚊𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 :: @goblinselfshippr、 @over--heaven、 @spookysinner45、 @little-miss-selfships | join my tag list ᡣ𐭩
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can’t find a direct link since i saw it on pinterest (💔) but it’s by mellon_soup!
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sallytwo · 1 day
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Jennifer nearly jumped into the water / and she was tired like no one's ever been tired
#myart#wesley crusher#jennifer is on her way home. then she remembers her life is like a nightmare!!!!#geniunelyyyy thinking about the post-first duty years of wesleys life is so miserable.#he killed his best friend and ruined his friendship with everyone else and lost picards respect (the only thing he ever cared about)#and then you just. dont hear about him at all for 2 years.#trying to capture the extremely specific existential dread of knowing something is deeply wrong in your life but not being able to change.#JUST THE LOOK OF A YOUNG MAN WHOS PROFOUNDLY UNHAPPY AND DOESNT EVEN KNOW WHY!!!#the quote from that novel. where he says “jaxa knew better than the rest of us the only way to escape this thing was to die”. ITS SICK!!#like leaving starfleet was not even on his radar until journeys end. he didnt even consider that as an option. so what could he do.#man. theres a reason for the prominently placed golden gate bridge. jennifer nearly jumped into the water.... cuz she got no way to get out#the photos in the bg are him and picard. jack. two of joshie (the ski tripppppp) him and bev and the entire nova squadron up top#do i think he would have his room this nicely decorated while horribly depressed NO!!! it was just for the compostion of the piece#like trying so hard to keep up appearances. being surrounded by pictures of all the people who love him and still not able to get out.#some of the papers lying around the desk are like. intended to be letters to bev that he just gave up on writing.#OKAY sorry i just wanted to finish this before i leave tomorrow. i spent such a stupid amount of time on this. never again#you people should always talk to me forever about my friend wesley . im soooo normal. lies facedown on floor#OH AND THE VERY SPECIFIC. EMOTION. LYING ON BED IN FULL UNIFORM. WE'VE ALLLL BEEN THERE.
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fightwing · 4 months
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bruce immediately asking if he hurt dick after days spent infected yeah okay dc i see this and i raise you: 😭😭😭
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theminecraftbee · 10 months
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Normally, traitors aren’t frog-marched to the Emperors themselves, regardless of what rank of information they had. These aren’t normal circumstances, though, Techno bemoans to himself. For one, the man is refusing to speak anything but French and a tiny amount of broken Bayesh. For another, on being made, he immediately handed over about three folders of classified information then loudly waited for handcuffs to be put on him.
Phil is lounging in his throne; he’d never been one for propriety. This leaves Techno to be, uh, the actually serious one. The one adorned in uniform, sitting and glowering down. It’s lucky that the traitor isn’t a pigman, because Techno isn’t actually great at glowering, but humans are weird about pigman facial expressions so he should be fine?
The traitor stands before them and grins. In perfect Bayesh, he says: “Finally. It took way too long for you to catch me, bitch.”
Techno pauses. He stares. In Piglish, he barks to his guards: “Everyone out. It’s Leader business.”
They file out. They’ll be waiting outside. Phil straightens in his seat and reaches for his own sword.
Techno, laboriously, drags his hand across his face. He switches back to Bayesh. God, does he regret being fluent in multiple languages sometimes. “What are you doing here, Tommy.”
“Showing you your intelligence weak points, fucker. Do you know how easy it is to slip Bayesh spies in here? I was smooth. A smooth customer. I was hearing classified milkitary secrets—”
“You were caught within two hours,” Techno says.
“That’s—that’s just what you think, innit?” Tommy says. Phil laughs. He’s the real traitor here.
“Tommy. I don’t wanna have to cause an international incident, but I’ve had a really long day, so if you just tell me who hired you to run a spy op, and why you decided it was a good idea to run it yourself, instead of sending one of your experts…”
“No one,” Tommy says.
“Hey, don’t lie you little shit. Techno might not want to start an incident but I don’t care,” Phil says. He grins and holds up his sword. “You wanna wake up in a jail cell and reveal some secrets? We may all be Leaders but it won’t stop torture from hurting.”
“What the fuck, Phil,” Tommy says.
“No one’s torturing anyone. We’ll just bomb them later if we must,” Techno says.
“And I wasn’t lying. It’s—can I take the wig off by the way? It fucking itches.”
“I despise you.”
Tommy takes off the black wig, revealing his blonde hair. “Anyway, I don’t want to work with you guys either, so I figured I’d get your attention by like, acting like we’re enemies and stuff. Got hired for espionage enough back in the day to pick up that much.”
“Who the fuck wanted you as a spy?” Phil asks.
“Fuck you,” Tommy says and doesn’t elaborate.
“Please just tell us what you want,” Techno says. “Please. I can’t handle this much you at any given time.”
“This needs to be Leader to Leader,” Tommy says, and something heavy laces his words. The hairs on Techno’s arms stand up.
“You coulda asked,” he says, in one final desperate bid for normality.
“No, I couldn’t have,” Tommy says. “I think Chip’s dead.”
Techno doesn’t notice that he’s standing until he is.
“What?”
“Yeah,” Tommy says. “Yeah. And, uh, I fucking. Need your help to figure out what happened. Before we get blamed. And I know, politically, you’ve got no reason, but if we don’t figure out—”
Techno sits back down, heavy.
“I know you understand Piglish. Let me talk in my native language. Phil.”
“Yeah, mate?”
“Go get the stuff.”
Phil’s eyes darken. “Right. That. Well, I’ll be back.”
Tommy’s voice, for the first time since Techno met him as a newly-minted Leader, standing on a wooden bench and yelling about executions, is small.
“You believe me?” he says.
“Why else would you come here?” Techno asks. “Not like we like you.”
“Good, because I’m shit at infiltrations. Would have been embarrassing if you, like, didn’t know your enemy well enough to know that,” Tommy says. He’s saying something else underneath it. Techno is neither good enough at Bayesh or at Tommy to guess what.
“Let’s work out an excuse to make a treaty. And you tell me everything.”
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cerise-on-top · 5 months
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Hello! Are you still writing hcs?
Graves with a spouse(writing this as a husband for him myself 🥰) who loves sewing and knitting, or some something amongst 'cozy hobbies' like embroidery, reading, poetry or baking. Just wondering How a relationship would be between them or how Graves would act.
Your writing is very lovely btw! I fell in love with it, very beautiful!
Hello! I am still writing HCs, it'll probably be a little bit longer until I take a proper break! That was a really cute request, I liked that one! Domestic and sweet stuff like that is always the best, so thank you for bestowing a request like that upon me! (❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡
Graves with a Spouse with Cozy Hobbies
As mentioned already, Graves loves feeling like the big, strong, useful man in the relationship, so he’d absolutely love you even more if you have “soft and cozy” hobbies like the ones you mentioned. While he is very much a talker, something like knitting can be done while holding a conversation, so he’ll definitely talk to you as you work on your next project. He thinks it’s really awesome, the way your hands move so quickly to create something like a sweater, a scarf, or even a plushie. You don’t really look at him, way too absorbed in your project and not wanting to make even a single mistake, but you still spend time with him. It’s ideal, he can tell you the newest, juiciest gossip among his Shadows while you make him the coziest sweater he’s ever seen. Lets you measure him, if you need and want to, because he really wants that sweater. You wanna put a cute little motif, like a cup of coffee on it as well? He’ll fall in love even more than before.
But even when he’s tired, he wants to spend his time with you. Instead of talking, he’ll lean against you and watch you crochet a bit before nodding off ever so slowly. It’s nice, it’s repetitive, for the most part, and it’s also quiet. By the time he wakes up he gets to see more of your beautiful creation, so that’s a big plus. And when he isn’t dozing off against you, he’s more than happy to hold your yarn and make it a bit longer when you need it. There’s something magical about watching you crochet. He had to crochet in elementary school, but, since he didn’t want to sit down for something like that, he wasn’t very good at it. His strengths always lied elsewhere, so it’s fascinating to him that you can sit in the same position for hours on end, barely moving, and still having fun. The only time he has to do that is when he’s filing reports, and afterwards he needs something to take his mind off of those.
Graves, every time he’s about to go out without you, will always ask you if you need anything from the arts and crafts stores, willing to buy you the loveliest fleece for felting if you ask him for it. Hell, if you want to sell your plushies, or your creations in general, he’s probably the best man to have on your side. Especially when it comes to plushies. Some of his Shadows have families with children, so he knows some of them would love your creations. Might sometimes ask you if you could knit or crochet a baby wooly hat for one of them, if you have the time, since his Shadows know you can be trusted with a task like that. You will always be reimbursed, either by his Shadows or by Graves himself. Sometimes he does like to gift his Shadows something you made and pretend they bought it. You’ll always get your money, but it might sometimes be out of Graves’ pocket.
He definitely likes the domesticity of it. He can go about his day, certain you won’t get hurt, unless you’re sewing or embroidering. But he’d never stop you from pursuing a craft like that. In fact, he’ll actively encourage you, always asking about your projects and wanting to know if he can help you in any way. He wants to see your embroidery, your crocheting, your sewing, as well, so he might gently pick it up from time to time, view it from every angle and give you feedback a la Graves, praising you like only he could.
When you’re a baker you can be sure he’ll taste test your stuff every single time. He has a bit of a sweet tooth, not too much, but he loves you, so he’s willing to eat everything you make. If you’re up making cookies, then he’ll help you by either buying you the best, most reliable hand mixer he can find, or by stirring the dough himself so your arms won’t get too tired. This he does under the condition that he gets to be the first person to try your cookies, your cake, your cobbler. He may not be the worst baker, but he can still learn a lot from you. That he does with all the love in the world, looking at you with an adoring expression as you put the baked goods in the oven, waiting for them to finish. Always has a big smile on his face when he watches you be this content with your life. While you wait for it to properly bake, he’d sometimes ask you to play card games with him. Always lets you win on purpose during those times since you always look so happy when you win. Afterwards he rewards you with a kiss.
While he may be everything but a fan of poetry, he can respect you being one. Will listen to everything you have to say about them, from your analyses to you reading one out loud. If you have a few poets you like especially well then Graves will bend his back trying to find beautiful anthologies of their works. Maybe some books with a few gold engravings that would look well on a shelf. He wants you to know that, despite him not being interested, he still supports you. While you’re reading a book, he might sneak up on you, startle you and then take you into his arms, trying to get you comfortable so you can continue to read. Might glance at your book from time to time to get a feeling for what you’re reading. If it’s something especially cheesy he might chuckle a bit and call you out on being a hopeless romantic, giving you a kiss to your nose afterwards.
Overall, he likes it. It’s nice, not having to worry about you going god knows where and ending up injured. Besides, he always has something nice to come home to, whether that be some beautiful embroidery of violets or a Sachertorte you made from scratch. Will always praise you for doing well, will always make sure you have the means to keep creating, baking and reading. Does his best to keep it that way as well, you’re his precious little darlin’ and you deserve the world and so much more in his eyes.
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scatterpatter · 2 months
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HEY YOU SHOULD WATCH THE BRAVE LITTLE TOASTER
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Oh nooooo if only there were an easy way to find it tho... if only... oh man... if only- oh oops sorry I tripped-
youtube
Oh man if only it were easy to watch... oh man...................
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deoidesign · 16 days
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#ok finally making a post about meds#I've not ever tried taking medication before. I was sorta raised with that classic 'dont rely on meds you have to learn to manage without'#I mean I was also raised with the idea that therapy is stupid unless you have 'real' trauma. and also like idk.#can't stay home from school unless your temp is over 100 or you're throwing up. etc. very suck it up mindset#so I was just really nervous to start. also of course worried about losing myself or whatever I know that's a silly fear but#it's also a common fear for a reason!!! anyways#so I finally was like 'I need to do something' when I realized I was so anxious I couldnt even get myself to go outside alone#like I just don't want to do ANYTHING alone to a detrimental effect. and it was butting into my ability to do my work...#for various reasons. but then ALSO adhd has been a constant issue with my work as well!#it is SO hard to write and draw on a weekly pace like I am without being able to focus#my whole life I've had these terrible nightmares constantly and I've always woken up constantly in the night#sleep has always been terrible so I've always dreaded going to bed.. ESPECIALLy because it didnt even make me less tired#it was more something that I just did because I had to.#but going to bed was always terrible. there have been times I was too scared to go to sleep for weeks on end...#I've been mitigating this for years of course. and recently I've been taking melatonin which has been helping too.#but I've also always struggled to get up. because I've always been EXTREMELY exhausted#but also anxious of what the day might bring... idk.#anyways it has all hit a point that I was like okay. I am doing as many coping mechanisms as I can. the psych said they were good too#but... it just has never been enough. it's never been enough to make me not tired it's never been enough to make me not scared#so I finally talked to the doc about it. and she was like youve def got smth wrong basically. which yah I know.. but yknow#anyways so I started taking wellbutrin. and I am so frustrated now. because it's WORKING#that constant looming sense of dread is gone. I'm excited to get up. I'm excited to go to bed BECAUSE I'm excited to get up#I feel like for years I've been holding on to the idea that I have to get up because I have to put something good out into the world#and I've been clinging to knowing that if nothing else. I am able to help other people feel better.#but now for the first time in my life I'm like. free of it. I didnt even know it was possible... and I'm so sad how much I've lost out on#and so frustrated how my whole life I've been told to put up with it and push through it. and treated like a failure for it being too much.#and just. It has only been 2 weeks. but the lack of anxiety is SO noticeable I'm so...#I'll never miss it. the adhd is still pretty present but like whatever. I can manage that better.#and I'm just crying because of all this combined.#I just. I hope I get to finally be the best I can be now. for myself but also for you guys!
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dootznbootz · 4 months
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Odypen definitely and equivalently adore each other BUT I weirdly can't see them as the type to actually say "I Love you".
They still definitely vocalize their love for each other but it's more so in "My Joy", and "Extraordinary Woman", "Strange Woman/Man", etc. And very cheesy lines (both say some cheesy shit in the Odyssey, and he definitely does in the Iliad as well. "Joy like a drowning sailor seeing land" bit???)
I could see "I adore you" but even then, that's probably during very specific moments but the actual "I love you"??? I just typed it just now for fic shit and... It weirdly just didn't feel right and I don't know why. 😅
Idk maybe it's kind of because I see them as over the top in ways, they love wordplay and riddles and I think they'd almost think "...That's not good enough >:( " about it??? I don't know???😂
#I wrote this last night. I'll do the asks I got later. don't worry! :D#I am the cheese god remember?😅#I think these two would try to “out-cheese” each other and whoever is left speechless first loses#“I would forget my own name before I would ever forget you” bullshit. CHEESY#And yes. “I sleep in our nest with you or outside on the dirt” stupidity >:D#I plan for Odysseus as a beggar to ask why she waits so long. As he's been gone a longer amount of time than the time they had together#(Simply asking as reassurance. He knows his answer. Calypso asked him. but what about Penelope?) but she gets mad at the#“Beggar” and pities him as he must be telling the truth about having a miserable life if he never got the chance to know such devotion#How what they have could never be sullied by#something as trivial as distance and years. How the years with him were the best in her life. Only made better by their son.#'My dear Joy made songs and poems about love a reality as that was simply the life we shared. Even separated our 'song' will always echo#no matter how long it's been. I'LL make sure it always does. And I know he's doing the same... That strange man used to say that#even if he died his corpse would drag itself back to us before he'd ever give up.'#...I'm not one for 'odyssey zombie au' but when I first heard it yeah. :'D Came up with this back then#“His eyes as hard as flint or horn-” Bullshit! The sad lil fuck is hiding sobs with coughs and telling her to keep away for fear of her#catching whatever “illness” he has. The nice thing about being disguised as old means sickly old man works.#...#I'm noticing that Odysseus has a lot of silly oneliners while I write Penelope with a shit ton of set up :'D#They are so silly and I love them so much#...I wrote a lot :'D#Mad rambles#shot by odysseus#my headcanons#odypen#yahoo!!!#sometimes I wonder if I should tag this with more things but I don't want to taint the regular tags with my bullshit :'D I KNOW I'm insane
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sluckythewizard · 2 months
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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
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"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!!!!!!!
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sonknuxadow · 8 months
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something about how when a guy sonic character has nothing going for him in canon or is from a game people dont like people will flesh him out and write 500 page fanfictions about him detailing their au backstory for him anyway. if he does something really really bad whether it was a mistake or fully intentional people are willing to think about and understand why he did what he did. or theyll just ignore it entirely or blame it on bad writing. but when a girl sonic character does any of those same things shes treated like the spawn of satan
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Can't wait for the Anime only people to lose their collective shit over the dumbass, impossible plot point of something broken in the future to become retroactively broken in the present...
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I don't know how to write this without it being horribly obvious who I'm writing about
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spacedlexi · 6 months
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idk what people expect when they comment "other ship better" on my art. like ok? youre blocked now and im laughing at you
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duhragonball · 2 months
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I COULDNT thiNK Of how to properly thank you for the birthday gift, like, genuinely speechless, SO here’s a LUFFA!!! thank you so so much again!!! AND KEEP ON BEING YOU 💕💕💕😭💕💕🗣️🔥🔥
AAAAAA THANK YOU COZY!
And happy birthday again (give or take a few days)! I hope you're doing well!
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My cousin, a published writer, a well-known poet in my country and a literature professor, for whom I've always been no.1 support ever since her first attempts at writing in high school, told me that I must stop writing as a hobby because that's her thing and since I'm writing fantasy mostly my writing could never have any important artistic value anyways.
#what happened was that i was feeling really down these past few days#like mental health dead in mariana trench#and i went to visit her because she lives like 10 minutes away and has a cat i can play with#but yesterday morning a friend of mine made a fanart (i guess i can call it that) of a fanfic i am writing for the five of them#she sent it to me and said she's also working on an actual painting on a camvas of her fave scene from my original story#and i was so surprised and exicted#that's actually a too mild description#and when i was visitting my cousin i showed her the pic of the drawing on my phone and explained it to her and she just said ....ehh..#and started texting someone#i was sitting there feeling stupid and thinking wow you could have at least praised my friend's art sytle or something#and when i was getting ready to leave she asked me if i was aware my writing has no artistic merit and fantasy is trivial literature#so i should just stop wasting time on that and focus on developing my art style more for her future poetry collections#i do the art for her book covers#and added how we already have an established writer in the family so i should focus on my role - becoming a good pharmacist#and she knows how much i hate that i'm studying pharmacy like it's the no.1 cause of me hating the direction in which my life is going#finished it off by saying she feels like what she's doing in going to be really great and important on a large scale one day#and how she wants me to continue being her shadow that follows and supports her#i left went home and started at a wall for hours#i just feel so dumb for getting excited over a silly drawing of something not more than 5 people will ever read#i genuinely hate the idea of people reading anything i write so most likely writing will just remain a hobby for me#and now i feel like the most stupid person on earth and am this close to deleting all my word documents from both my laptops
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