#anyways this was eating up my brain

[scargivr]

kora is very much of a choleric temperament . easy to anger , resistant to forgiveness , demanding . their anger is an all - consuming fire that will burn anyone who gets too close . it's been burning inside of them for so long , maybe this fire is kin to the flames balisarius used to scorch their planet when they were young . they can't remember a time before their heart was charred , every breath tasting like ash . kora is so full of rage & grief ; the uncontrollable wildfire & the inescapable tsunami .

[b0nelessdoodles]

tfw you're three deep in anchordeep and you get the notif that you're baby has been neglected so you turn into a speedrunner to get home

[inkskinned]

it is all chaos and entropy. the thing is that the chaos and entropy make it beautiful and lovely.

yes, it's true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is terrifying. i have lived through some of the unfairness - i got born like this, with my body caving into itself, with this ironic love of dance when i sometimes can't stand up for longer than 15 minutes. i am a poet with hands that are slowly shutting down - i can't hold a pen some days. recently i found a dead bird on our front porch. she had no visible injuries. she had just died, the way things die sometimes.

it is also true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is wonderful. the sheer happenstance that makes rain turn into a rainbow. the impossible coincidence of finding your best friend. i have made so many mistakes and i have let myself down and i have harmed other people by accident. nature moves anyway. on the worst day of my life she delivers me an orange juice sunset, as if she is saying try again tomorrow.

how vast and unknowing the universe! how small we are! isn't that lovely. the universe has given us flowers and harp strings and the shape of clouds. how massive our lives are in comparison to a grasshopper. the world so bright, still undiscovered. even after 30 years of being on this earth, i learned about a new type of animal today: the dhole.

chance echoing in my life like a harmony between two people talking. do you think you and i, living in different worlds but connected through the internet - do you think we've ever seen the same butterfly? they migrate thousands of miles. it's possible, right?

how beautiful the ways we fill the vastness of space. i love that when large amounts of people are applauding in a room, they all start clapping at the same time. i love that the ocean reminds us of our mother's heartbeat. i love that out of all the colors, chlorophyll chose green. i love the coincidences. i love the places where science says i don't know, but it just happens.

"the universe doesn't care about you!" oh, i know. that's okay. i care about the universe. i will put my big stupid heart out into it and watch the universe feast on it. it is not painful. it is strange - the more love you pour into the unfeeling world, the more it feels the world loves you in return. i know it's confirmation bias. i think i'm okay if my proof of kindness is just my own body and my own spirit.

i buried the bird from our porch deep in the woods. that same day, an old friend reaches out to me and says i miss you. wherever you go, no matter how bad it gets - you try to do good.

[medicalunprofessional]

never change, man !

[ashiyn]

ashy i fucking love u for all the gifs ur making of the irl stuff, it makes me so happy

stop i might just start sobbing, have a cute zed and tango gif that i haven't posted yet as a massive thank you,

[sumirerin]

My boyfriend is a terrible influence on me as usual HAHAHA

i have a few more fnaf doodles floating around my ipad, should i post em? :b

[abyssal-glory]

vector portrait for digital imaging class of RGB!! hey go read The Property of Hate if you haven’t already btw it’s an amazing comic by @modmad that i’ve been hotglued to since my junior year of high school.

big thank you to mod for giving their permission/blessing to wrestle with this horrible tv bastard in adobe illustrator for the express purpose of shilling him and this comic to my unsuspecting class <3

(edit: god okay pls click for fullscreen. hogy shit)

[unlikely-gravestones]

Ok, but a Dreamling fic where either:

A) Dream is courting Hob, but Hob doesn't know

Or

B) Hob is courting Dream, but Dream doesn't know

I mean, it literally works either way, and yes I will be promptly expanding on that right now.

Let's take fic A: Give me Dream courting Hob but in an obscure way, like taking him to Fiddlers Green (aka the heart of the Dreaming) and showing him one of his most beloved creations; give me Dream conjuring specific foods from Hob's past, meals and desserts that he knows Hob still idly daydreams about but can't find anymore, or don't taste quite right. Yet the ones Dream gift him taste exactly like how he remembers.

Dream shows his favour for Hob by steering clear his nightmares, sometimes even personally curating a dream when he can't visit him himself. And visit him Dream does - both in The Dreaming and in The Waking. When Hob enters his realm, most nights Morpheus can be found within his dreams, allowing Hob to shape the world around them as he sees fit unless Morpheus wants to show him something in particular.

And when Dream does show him around... think of Hob complimenting stuff in the Dreaming, slightly flustering Morpheus because he is unrelenting is his curiosity and awe at Dreams realm, at his creations-

Dream thinking to himself that Hob is such a FLIRT, because The Dreaming and everything in it is Morpheus, so of course he takes pride in it...but here's Hob praising it all left right and centre. Hob's obvious wonder and verbal appreciation of anywhere they go or anything Dream does (because there are no limits in the dreaming and oh my god is there a dragon on that castle...YOUR CASTLE??...i didn't even have a castle wtf) just makes Dreams feelings all the more tender and...its worth the surprised look Lucienne gives him when he only smiles fondly at Hob while the immortal praises the magnificence of the library and the quality of the printing.

In The Waking (and they do meet frequently in the waking because Hob will be damned if he ever waits 100 years to see Dream again), Hob is surprised by how warm Dream is towards him; he no longer sits rigid and regal but instead relaxes into his seat, sometimes tapping Hob's shoe under the table with his own when he sits down, though Hob's sure it's an accident (the first time, it was). He smiles more often, though no more freely- its the same small knowing smile he's always had, and it melts Hob as much as it surprises him. He doesn't know why Dream seems more...fond, but he's not going to be the one to point it out lest Dream stop or leave him again. The attentions nice anyway, from His Dream.

Just give me Dream doing stuff that to HIM is romantic but to Hob its mildly confusing yet very pleasant. And again, Hob will gladly take all of this without question because even though he feels just a little bit like there's something he's not getting, he won't risk upsetting Dream again. He knows it wasn't Dreams fault for missing their 1989 meeting, but he still did storm out of their 1889 meeting and all hell broke loose for him in the years that followed. Hob figures its better to accept all the welcome changes and gifts, rather than put his foot in his mouth again by bringing it up and risking Dream leaving, risking not know where his friend is or if he's safe.

AND FIC B. Give me Hob deciding to court Dream, to go old school and work his way up to asking him out because he needs to gauge his reactions first before he dives all in. Hob learnt a lesson in 1889, and so while he might be taking some of the courage he had back then to start courting Dream, he wouldn't put himself out there like that again and have it backfire even more monumentally. No, he'll work his way up to it.

Give me Hob asking Dream to meet him at places outside the Inn, simply taking walks together and enjoying good conversation. He lays a hand on Dreams shoulder when they part, the other balled up in his jacket pocket from nerves, and the smile on his face from Dream allowing it, from Dream looking at his hand on his shoulder and then smiling at Hob in that small knowing way he always does... Hob doesn't stop grinning for the rest of the night.

Give me Hob tapping his shoe against Dreams under the table sometimes, to emphasise a point, to touch him without being obvious. Give me Hob, in the dreaming, shaping the world around them to be a beautiful flowering meadow where the colour of the blossoms match that of Dreams eyes. Have him conjure wine - wine with no name for all he thinks when creating it in his dream is that it simply must be the finest - and watch Dream, for perhaps the first time ever, drink something with him.

Give me Hob complimenting the Dreaming, yes again, because truly it is astounding in its beauty and complexity, but also because he thinks its cute how Morpheus smiles and looks from under his eyelashes at him. Give me Hob buying a pair of earrings for Dream because they glistened like stars when he walked past them, and now he's panicking because what the fuck was he thinking and they're dainty but feel like they're burning a hole through his pocket as he waits for Dream and he probably has time to run upstairs above the Inn and put them down in his flat but-

Dream walks in the door, so he's stuck. And maybe he picks up on Hob's nervous energy, because shortly after sitting down his face becomes serious and he asks Hob what's wrong. And Hob is sweating bullets but he just looks at him for a moment and pulls the earrings out of his jacket pocket, setting them gently on the table between them.

And Dreams confused, but when Hob manages to get out a "For you. They're uh, for you." He relaxes and gives Hob a pleased but surprised "For me?". Give me Hob explaining that he saw them and thought of Dream, trying to pass it off as casual because he doesn't know if he's being too hasty and if it'll scare him off, but also trying to say just enough that if Dream were interested, he'd pick up on it.

Suffice to say Hob's brain stops working the next time he sees Dream, wearing the earrings he bought. He's out of it for a solid 15 minutes, eyes mostly focused on the shine of the gems and holy shit he's actually wearing them oh my god he put them on is he interested is he accepting my courtship holy shit oh wait fuck he's looking at me what did he say what did I say-

Give me Hob picking a flower for him on one of their walks, handing it over with a simple "For you". Hob brushing their fingers together on the table at the inn, resting his foot against Dreams. Hob tugging Dreams sleeve to get him to lay down in the grass beside him in Fiddlers Green, occasionally tapping his foot with his or pressing his arm against him as he talks.

Hob actually flirting with Morpheus, emboldened by the earrings his soon to be lover continues to wear. Dream amassing a small shrine of tokens and gifts Hob brings him, ones he's always pleased though still confused to get. He did not think humans partook in gift giving this often, but perhaps he was mistaken.

The most important part of either fic is that the one doing the courting thinks its going great. And by all means...it is. Both parties are happy, though one is slightly confused. And I don't imagine they would get far physically without this misunderstanding coming to light; Hob would def ask to kiss Dream and Dream would go "...what?" because while the idea is pleasing, for him it's coming out of nowhere while for Hob, they've been working towards it for months and thats fine bc hes got all the time in the world and he would never rush Dream.

Cue Hob losing the confidence he had two seconds ago (Hob's had centuries to become well acquainted with himself in every aspect, he's confident in most things about himself but when it comes to Dream...hes always flipping between confidence and foolishness). Hob just being like "wdym what 🤠" and slowly they both realise they've been living two different realities these past few months.

Alternatively, Dream I think would also ask to kiss Hob...to which, you guessed it, Hob responds with "...what?". There's still a smile on his face, though it's more in confusion now and his eyebrows are drawn. And I def think Dream would just look at him for a moment before repeating "I asked if I may kiss you, Hob Gadling. Our courtship has gone so well, I should like to take it further, if you are willing."

"...courtship? Dream, what...what courtship?"

And of course, this would be the point where slowly they both realise they've been living two different realities these past few months. And, because Dream is Dream, this conversation would absolutely end with him on the verge of tears, whisking himself away back to the dreaming or simply "This dream is over" ing Hob if they were in The Dreaming to begin with. Hob would reach for him with a "No, wait-" but it's useless because Dreams gone either way.

Has to have a happy ending though, Hob's stubborn enough that he just calls for Dream when he goes to sleep again (says a mix of things- pleads for Dream to come talk to him, says he's honoured to be courted, threatens to bang pots and pans together outside his castle cause fuck it he'll find a way to get there, Lucienne will let him in or Matthew would show him the way if he asked he's sure, he even apologises at some point because it's beginning to feel like 1889 all over again).

It probably just ends up with Hob loudly confessing his own love in a multitude of ways, because what has he got to lose if Dreams left him already. Except Dream hasn't left, and he comes back, soothed by Hob's declaration of affection and perhaps slightly chastised by Lucienne for assuming Hob would understand the meaning of his odd courting rituals (I like to think he threw himself into a room all dramatic like and Lucienne just ends up standing outside the door going "...Did we ask Hob if he would accept being courted? No?...Did we research human courting customs and try to incorporate some of those, my lord? No?....*insert knowing silence*..." bc I KNOW Lucienne out here using the royal "we" while dealing with Dream).

Anyway. Big thoughts. Feel free to have at this if anyone wants to write anything, I just need a "We're courting" "...We are?" friends to lovers happy ending angst hurt/comfort fic.

(This post is long enough but also there's a secret 3rd option where one of them THINKS they're being courted by the other, so they respond in kind with gifts of their own and genuinely think the other person is trying to court them so they accept and go along with it bc...theyre idiots in love, your honour. But, as is the theme, there's a fundamental miscommunication where they're not actually being courted, the other just feels more secure in their 'friendship' and therefore brings gifts and touches bc they're friends now right and friends do that...not for any other reason...)

[bistaxx]

AND HGDUO/GOSSIPDUO/QMOCKINGJAYS YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!

[bluntloyalist]

[blistering-typhoons]

The Devil's Foot: Granada/Radio Holmes Edit

(bonus, under the influence of the devil's foot itself, in the radio adaptation, holmes and watson quote this simultaneously)

[questionablealibi]

School started and now i dont have as much time as before to mingle around social media ^^; that doesnt mean i wont check in time to time!

Anyways this is all i could manage, eat up

O'Neil can extend himself now ooo

Took inspiration from a creature called "manananggal" from filipino folklore! The mechanical spine is a placeholder for now while i finalize his and elias' concepts, but km definitely putting this in!

Here's a VERY rough draft of what i want him to look like when he "extends"!

So,,, woe, long oneil be upon ye

[gojonanami]

i started writing prof geto (5) and i thought about making a joke post like

"writing prof geto (5) #teamyuta"

but then i was like....i'm not trying to scare people

[sluckythewizard]

Keep calm, and drink soda

[CW for blood and gore and vomit] takes place a day or two after emizel was sired. just two boys adjusting to a shift in their daily norms. would YOU drink your homies blood? still not used to writing fanfic so any and all advice IS appreciated. i hope u enjoy.

There were very few things that Soda enjoyed more than well, drinking soda. It was a hobby, an interest, a comfort. And by extension there were very few errands that Soda would look forward to more than the occasional soda run.

The gas station closest to the Demons hideout had stopped selling Faygo entirely about a month or two ago, and it was near impossible to find it anywhere else. The closest place was now this janky little Shell gas station, lovingly titled the Shady Shell, that thankfully sold more flavors than any of the other ones ever did.

It made the hour and a half walk here entirely worth it. Even if this side of town made his skin crawl. Normally he would ask someone to accompany him on this daring little quest, but everyone at the hide out tonight just seemed too tired, too preoccupied, too uninterested.

He knew not everyone really got the soda thing, but they were accepting of it for the most part. Soda is something that, clearly, Soda really loves, but he knew not everyone else was into it.

Which was fine, of course. They didn't need to get it. But, still, sometimes Soda found himself wondering how much of it was a bit, and how much was him.

Emizel gets it perfectly though. He would've been the first person Soda would ask to go on this soda run with him, but, well. He's been preoccupied too, with the whole vampire thing.

It's been a bit more than a day since Soda had last seen his close comrade. For a friend that he saw just about everyday, going without him this long left him feeling a little emptier.

That was fine, though. Emizel had shit he was working out, he had things he needed to do. It's not like he could go out in the day anymore, so of course Soda wouldn't be seeing him at all the usual times.

It was a lot of weird and heavy magical stuff, it made Soda think about those superhero shows. Where the hero needs to keep his identity hidden from everyone. Family especially. He knows how much of a piece of shit Emizels dad is, so he hoped that Emizels home life wasn't stirred up all stupid-like over this.

He hasn't told anyone else, about what happened that night. For the last 2 days, Soda would spend time with close friends and not let them know a thing about what happened to Emizel so, so recently. Why he's so suddenly absent, so distant, so.. off…

'Maybe his dad's just giving him a hard time', he would say, hoping to smother their questions. The less questions they ask, the better. At least until this vampire stuff gets figured out a bit more. Should Emizel wear a disguise when he goes out at night now? Just like a superhero? What kind of hero outfit would Emizel have anyways? Soda figured it would be something really cool.

If anyone could figure out a way to balance all this vampire stuff, and all the leaderly responsibilities that come with being the biggest dog in the Demons, it was Emizel for sure. That guy is so seriously cool.

He was sure this rough patch would even out, and they would weather the next rough patch together no problem. There was really nothing to worry about! All Soda has to do is stay positive, and well, drink soda.

As Soda walks quietly down the crumbling sidewalks of this dreary hive of strip malls and shops, he goes to pull his backpack around to his chest, fumbling with the zipper in the dark. Which was a little annoying, considering the tab of his zipper had fallen off forever ago. He really needed to get around to fixing this damn thing. Maybe another ziptie and a soda tab will do the trick.

Humid air hangs heavy in the night, the sidewalks still somewhat warm after a hotter day. The diesel-soaked air provided enough warmth on its own that Soda had considered taking his jacket off a few times, only for the occasional, annoyingly sharp and chilly breeze to brush by, reminding him to keep the thing on.

Tripping only once and only slightly on an uneven sidewalk, Soda manages to pull a bottle of Faygo from his backpack, a smile glowing on his face. Another short fight with the zipper seals up the bag, and he slings it over his shoulder again.

His flavor of choice tonight was actually the Red Pop, the tried and true, the absolute classic, one of the best Faygo flavors for sure.

But, this kind wasn't actually his favorite. Normally he would stock up on the cotton candy ones, but something about the last few days had him craving the red stuff.

Securing his backpack all the way, he goes to crack open the bottle. Just the clack and the hisssss of the fizzy drink were enough to lift his mood.

Not that his mood needed lifting or anything. Of course. Sure he missed his friend and sure he found himself wondering what he’s doing and where he is and if he's okay. Maybe sometimes he found himself wishing they talked about funeral plans more.

Emizel talked up all sorts of crazy funeral ideas for himself, usually involving the use of his dead body as an inconvenience for others. Outlandish and hilarious ideas, like filling it with explosives and tossing it into a busy road. But what would he want seriously? What would Soda ever do if he just stopped showing up one day?

He had to swallow down all these unnecessary anxieties, so he took a swig of his soda. Sweet, bubbly, comforting. He felt better already! Just stay positive, and drink soda..

It was a lovely night out, and he didn't come all this way planning on letting it go to waste. There was a place he was heading towards, a particular alleyway in this particular place that led off to a particularly tall concrete ledge.

 It was a run-down little space, littered with trash and shitty trees and those bushes with just too many goddamn ants in them. But the view was fairly nice, overlooking a massive deformed intersection. A particularly stupid one, at that; about 3 times a week you could witness a gnarly crash at this spot. Soda always heard people saying that LA folks can't drive, but he was just starting to figure that maybe no one can drive.

That was the place he really wanted to go to enjoy this soda, and he wasn't too far off from it. Just a few more blocks, and he would be there.

Oh wait, didn't he still have a bag of chips in this backpack somewhere? Hell yeah, he couldn't wait to sit down and relax with a good soda, a good snack, and a good view of the night.

Living as a Demon had its fair share of stresses. He felt lucky to have this life, but he knew well that it could be better. That not everyone has to worry about survival the way they do. That not everyone gets injured on the regular and not everyone has to worry about being sick and never getting better.

Living is hard. But it's finding the small moments of joy that make it all worth it. Dying would be scarier anyway. He didn't want to die, and he felt glad to feel so confident in that nowadays.

The sudden   THUNK  of something slamming into the ground just a block away from him, jolts him out of his thoughts, all his gears screeching to a halt as he freezes in place. What the fuck was that?

It looked like a person, laying flat on the ground with only their head and shoulders peeking out of the alleyway ahead. Fuck. He hated this side of town..

Anxiety churns in his stomach as he debates just turning around, but the way the victim reaches an arm out, attempting to crawl away; it made his heart ache aswell. he's no goddamn fighter, but he couldn't just leave someone like th-

The body is suddenly yanked back into the alley, snatched at a startling speed. It didn't feel exactly real, how could something vanish so fast? It reminded Soda of something from a horror movie, or whatever. What the fuck was that??

His foot takes a step forward, before the rest of his body notices its rebellion and locks down again. Was he seriously going to investigate that? He could just walk away and take another alley. But that was the one he was supposed to turn down! All the other alleys are either walled off or gated off and he wasn't about to go climbing over a damn wire gate. His soda would get too shaken up! Fuck!

Another foot goes in for another step forward. He's gotta get the fuck out of here. He could hear more commotion in the alleyway, a scuffle, a skirmish. He could hear someone cursing through a choked breath. A loud and nauseating crack echoes out from the alley, and yet, Soda takes another step forward.

This was stupid, he shouldn't be getting tangled up in someone else's business. What if something happened to all this soda?

Thankfully, it was that thought that actually got him to pause, and take in a deep breath. It wasn't worth it, maybe he should head straight home.

Atleast, that was the thought his heart and mind were about to agree on, until a particularly familiar grroowwwwlll bleeds out from the alley.

Emizel?

All reason immediately evaporates as Soda makes that connection in his head, stepping right up to the corner of the brick walls, and peering around to investigate.

There was a body on the floor, face down in a puddle of red, head split open in a way that reminded Soda of a smashed watermelon.

But standing over that body, was the familiar, blackened coat, and short blonde hair, of Sodas closest comrade, Emizel.

Despite the carnage on the floor, Soda couldn't help the smile that lights up his face. That was Emizel! That was his boy!

But before he could get over just how happy he felt to see his best friend, something else caught his eye. Movement, behind the dumpster closest to the vampire boy. A person, rising out from the shadows with a glinting baseball bat clutched fiercely in their hands.

"Oh fuck, look out!" Soda speaks up, and Emizels gaze immediately clicks over to him, silencing Soda with just that startlingly red stare.

He had forgotten just how uneasy those red eyes made him..

The attacker, silent and professional, rushes up behind Emizel and CRACKS the metal bat downwards onto his blonde head, the sound ringing out like a  gun shot  in that dark little alleyway.

Soda cringes from just the sound of the impact, but was amazed to find that the bat had warped under the force of it!

The attacker hardly had a chance to process his mangled weapon before Emizel whips around to retaliate.

It looked like he had just swung his hand at his opponent, so the way a shower of red spills outward from the slash, catches Soda completely off guard. The monster boy had cleaved an excruciatingly massive gash up from the attackers right hip, to his left shoulder, the slice spewing with scarlet.

 It wasn't until Emizel had pulled back his arm, that Soda could process the way it had darkened with more than just blood, distorted into an odd, spear-like shape.

The victim hardly had a chance to yelp before that blade swoops up into his chest at the speed of a snapping bear trap, plunging through meat and bone with disturbing ease, and forcing blood and viscera to erupt outwards. The red patters down onto the concrete behind, the sound similar to rain...

With another low, inhuman snarl, Emizel brings the twitching, dying body closer, until that signature squish of teeth sinking into fresh meat bleeds outward into the space.

What a disgusting sound, Sodas first instinct was to simply avert his eyes, but as the sound persists, he resolves that he has to do something.

He finally steps out into the alley, and speaks.

"Hey ma-"

He could hardly get two words out before Emizel suddenly rips its teeth away from its victims throat, tearing out a hefty chunk of jellied meat, and slamming the remaining fodder onto the concrete floor.

It immediately whips around to stare down Soda, red eyes glowing with reflected light, and with hardly a chance to process the moment-

-It's immediately right infront of Soda.

A gasp lurches from Soda's lungs as he almost stumbles back in shock. How was Emizel so fucking fast?

Other than that single step back, Soda was frozen in shock, his tongue buzzing with the physical pain of such a startling jolt. 'White boy jumpscare' is something that came to mind, but while usually such a thought would evoke some sort of laugh from Soda, this time it offered no such comfort. Okay maybe it did a little.

Emizels snarling face was only inches away from Sodas. Its eyes were wild and unnatural, teeth menacingly sharp and reddened with so much fucking blood. It was everywhere, coating most of his face, smothering his shirt and his coat, and absolutely choking the air with its thick, metallic stench.

Soda would gag if he felt he was safe to even move. He felt like he was locking eyes with that of a creature, something he would only ever see in his nightmares or in scary movies. But it was real. Those monsters are real. And his best friend is one of those monsters. His bestest friend in the world...

His mind was skewered on that unnatural glare, completely frozen with anxiety. Stalling too hard to come to a proper conclusion, Soda instead falls back onto what Soda does best.

"H-hey man... You want some soda?"

He very gently presses the opened bottle of Faygo into Emizels chest.

The two boys stand there for a moment, locked in a tense, silent pause, before the monster boy finally peels its gaze down to the bottle.

It's quiet, for a few seconds, the gears turning in its head. Until the monster blinks, and its eyes clear, and Emizel processes the sight of the bottle.

"Oh, fuck yeah dude, is that the Candy Apple Faygo? Man, that stuffs my favorite!" Emizel smiles as he goes to accept the bottle, and immediately takes a massive swig.

Soda tries to disregard the way his hands were still shaking. "Uh, n-nah man, its just Red Po-"

The words are bit off as Emizel suddenly retches, a heavy flood of red blood and red Faygo spewing out onto Soda, as the vampire boys body entirely rejects the fizzy drink.

The shock of getting fucking projectile vomited on had snapped Soda out of whatever daze he was just in, and it seemed to snap Emizel out of it too. Soda backs up with a groan, looking down at all the blood and bile and pop on his shirt and coat.

"Ohhh fuck dude, what the hell??" He cringes, not even wanting to try smearing any of it off with his hand.

Emizel was coughing, still holding out the Faygo bottle, but hunched over as his body dared to convulse again.

"Ohhhhhh fuck, ohhooohhh fuuuuucckkk" he grumbles towards the floor "Fuuuck I’m sorry dude, I don't know what fuckin- oohhhgg shit,” He coughs and groans,  offering the bottle back to Soda.

Soda was still staring at his messied coat with a displeased grimace, but looking up to meet Emizels eyes...

There was a guilt on Emizels face that Soda didn't see too often, and it helped wash away that irritation he felt. This sucked, but Emizel was probably going through a lot more. 

“It’s, uhm.. don't, don't worry about it, man..” Soda decides to reassure him, offering a sympathetic smile, and a hand on Emizels shoulder, as his comrade spits out the remaining blood and bile.

"Fuckin hell… I’m uh, I'm sorry about your shirt, man."

"What? Nahh it's okay man, don’t worry about it." Soda shrugs, taking the Faygo bottle back. "I mean, are you okay man? That uh.. looked like a pretty crazy fight."

Emizel was rubbing his eyes, smearing more blood across his face as he seems to be collecting himself. he spares a glance back at the carnage behind him.  

"Ah.. yeah.. I thought I uh.. I thought I saw that one fucker from uh. That one night. Yknow, the one that uh.." He snaps his fingers, as if trying to summon back the memory. "Vampire bitch... Anyway after that I just kind of, uh.."

He seems to space out again as he looks around. It was as if he was just woken up from a deep sleep, like he was certain he had just known what he was doing, but found the dream escaping him. "I guess I just.. went crazy on these guys. I dunno, they're Fangs anyways." he finally shrugs it all off, but Soda still felt unsatisfied by the answer.

"Oh.. huh…” is the only response he manages to scrounge together. Sure they were Fangs, but did they really deserve.. all that? It just seemed a bit brutal, even by Emizels standards.

He found his eyes wandering over to the split-open head. It was mostly red and bloody, but even in the dark, he could still make out some of the finer details of the gray jelly seeping from the gash. A human brain. He wondered if his own brain looked the same on the inside..

“So what are you doing out here, man?” Emizels question helps Soda pull his eyes away from the gore, instead looking over to his bloodied comrade.

Emizel looked messy and even exhausted, but his drowsy gaze was focused on Soda with a worried expression. 

“Oh, uh, yknow, just a soda run. Decided I would stock up on some Faygo from the Shady Shell.” Soda shrugs, his eyes flickering down to the opened Faygo in his hand. The top was covered in regurgitated blood. unnaturally blackened blood…

“Are you.. okay, by the way? Other than the whole..” Soda gestures vaguely at the gruesome crime scene. “Are you hurt?”

The question has Emizel pausing to consider. He straightens his back and stretches his arms, as if trying to detect any pain from any possible injury. Nothing seemed to be bothering him though, and after a second, he decides to shrug.

“Nah, I'm all good.”

“Oh.. That's good, I uh…” Soda found himself looking over Emizel aswell, searching for any wounds the monster boy might be simply disregarding, as he often does.

There was a fairly gnarly gash on his shin..

“Hey uh, I was actually gonna go hang out by the ledge down that way. Yknow, the one with the funny intersection.” Soda says, gesturing off towards where he intended to go. “Wanna come with?”

Emizel looks back that way, before turning back to Soda with a big smile on his face. 

“Oh hell yeah I do! I love the funny intersection!” he starts to walk down the alley, about to step over the body of the broken skull, when Soda speaks up.

“Uh, hey, shouldn't we uh.. Do something about the.. uh..” He waves a hand over towards the bodies, trying not to look directly at them. 

Emizel spares the corpses an inconvenienced glance, and a sigh, but ultimately shrugs them off. “Ehhh I'll just dump 'em in a dumpster again.. That's what I've been doing anyway.”

“And you're not worried about, like, anyone finding them?”

Soda anxiously watches on as Emizel paces around the body with the torn-out throat, licking the blood from his own mouth. Was his tongue always that long and pointed? That's neat, and normally Soda would point it out, but he was a bit.. preoccupied right now 

“Nahh not really. I haven't had anyone bother me at least.. Anyone been bothering you?” Emizels eyes finally flick back over to Soda. 

“Nah, I'd say things are actually more lax than usual. Anything that would end up being trouble’s been pretty much crushe- er, killed- destr- stamped out, by uh, by you.” Sods was cringing with every attempt to find a word that didn’t make his stomach turn, but Emizel didn’t seem to notice or mind.

Emizels eyes were currently a bit more focused on the body laying before him. He had that weird look on his face again… 

“Uhh, yeah, yeah that's good that uh, no troubles coming back to you guys…”

There’s a moment of quiet between the two as Emizel stares at this corpse, and Soda was about to open his mouth to fill the silence, but Emizel speaks up instead.

“Hey uh, why don’t you go ahead of me? I’ll uh, I'll meet you at the place.” He suggests, pointing vaguely off down the alley, but not removing his eyes from the kill. 

Soda certainly hesitates, his eyes narrowing before he even forms a thought. He opens his mouth to object, but then his eyes flicker back towards the body.

“Are you gonna eat this one too?”

The question leaves Sodas mouth as soon as it comes to mind.

Emizel pauses, and considers, before giving a shrug. “I don't see why not. Perfectly good blood.” He reaches down to grab his kill by the shirt, the one with the split open head. As the corpse rises from the concrete, gray matter drips and sloughs from the crack in its skull. Once again, Soda felt the need to look away, and yet his stupid eyes remained fixated on the horrendous sight. Emizel looks over the spilling brain of his meal, licking his lips curiously. “Dude, what do you think would happen if I ate his brain?” Emizel asks, looking back over to Soda with a wild, bloodied smile. Something about that look made Soda shiver, but.. Not really in a bad way… “Uh, I.. Dunno…. Eating a persons brain is how you get like, mad cow disease right? But you might also be immune to disease.. Are you immune to disease?” “Uhhh, I don't know yet actually. I'm still figuring out how much of this is like video games,” Emizel says, rubbing the back of his head as he idly sways the body of his kill around, watching the blood and gore drip and drop from its broken head. “Eh, I'll chance it later.” Without another word or thought, Emizel goes to sink his teeth into the shoulder of his kill, a pleased growl radiating from him as the blood gushes around the bite. More fresh blood upon less fresh blood upon old blood upon older blood. Just so much fucking blood. Soda thought he was used to seeing blood, but this… this was just egregious. Was he really starting to get used to this? It’s just blood after all, and it’s not from his comrades, so it's… fine… He finally manages to pull his eyes away from the gruesome sight of Emizel feeding, but his eyes instead wander down to the blood on his own shirt. Emizels blood was strange, darker than usual, and carrying a different scent. Something about the smell of his blood was more savory, more appealing than the standard metallic miasm. His shirt was smothered in it, his jacket was coated in it, and his opened bottle of Faygo was also splattered with the deep red ichor. Ink swirls within the bottle of red fizzy, spreading out into all sorts of odd patterns. It was a lot of blood. He was certain a lot of it came from however many people Emizels been feeding on. With how much hes been terrorizing the Fangs in just the last few days, and with how nonchalantly he feasts on his kills, who knows how much blood hes actually ingested… Soda swirls the bottle, watching the blood inside thin out into strands, dancing within the bubbly soda as they gradually dissipate, fully assimilating into the drink. A bad idea chews at the back of his head… The sound of ripping flesh once again knocks at Sodas head. He doesn’t look up this time, but he knew Emizel was just playing with his food again..  Did blood taste good to a vampire? Did some blood taste better than others? What did Sodas blood taste like? What did Emizels blood taste like? There's a visceral snap of something among the chewing and ripping, very clearly a bone or a joint snapping out of place. It made Soda shiver a little. When did his heart start pounding? There's an animal standing only 8 feet away from him, feeding on its kill. That animal is a person, and so is its kill. He wanted to know what vampire blood tasted like, but he already knew what human blood tasted like. It hung so densely in the air, he could feel it forming a vile film over his tongue. The blood of a person just like him. Eaten by an animal that eats people.  All this stress was no good. This bile rising to his throat was no good. This creeping anxiety was no good. He's friends with an animal that eats people. Would it eat him? This weird feeling was no good. Maybe it will never eat him. But it needs to eat people. This worry was no good. He needed to wash this awful taste from his mouth, replace it with something sweeter. He needed to keep his head clear enough to be there for Emizel when he needed to be. He needed to hold a light to these shadows. And he needed to stay positive, and drink soda. He takes a swig of the open Faygo bottle.

[jade-len]

luo binghe better than me fr i think i would've gone fucking apeshit if the person i loved with my entire soul pretty much said "fuck you" because of my race and pushed me down into literal hell for me to suffer for years

i've said it before and i'll say it again, i really don't think we give binghe enough credit. that man was on concerning levels of forgiving all the way from the start

[luck-of-the-drawings]

I SEE YOU I WANT TO; SEIZE YOUR B R A I N I'D LIKE TO;

P U T I T IN MY H E A D