#im so proud of this one right now

[stastro]

Hatsune Miku  (✿˶’◡’)♡

[mightytato]

tumblr probably ate the quality. aNYWAY- here i am, inspired by the iron might suit. but i just drew it as if it were his regular hero suit.

[romanceddawn]

Puzzleshipping: "You gave me your heart, you know..." [Insp.]

❕ Please do not repost to any other sites ❕

[franeridart]

sudden doodles cause I’ve been rereading one piece…….again

[javierduffy]

but when they're out on that river bank alone, what javier should be loyal to doesn't feel as confusing anymore

[catinasink]

the traveler, the star, and the fish

"why are there fish, nico?" you ask. well. lets jusr say. fish

sign that says id really appreciate reblogs of my art !!! /nf

[monkepawbz]

Kintsugi

Y/N and Wade have been married for several years now, and Wade is feeling extra sappy when Y/N announces she's pregnant for the second time with a second little girl. Wade reminisces on how Y/N, a former scientist, was able to save Wade all those years ago from the biggest threat he ever had: himself.

Warning: Lewd language and talk about sex and pregnancy. Reader discretion is advised (this is a Deadpool x Reader...obviously this rating is Mature at minimum...)

The scientist eventually got dressed and went downstairs to search for some food, a little anxious about how she was supposed to tell Ellie about the fact she wasn't going to be an only child anymore. Wade and Y/N's daughter, Ellie, had just turned nine years old and the couple had decided now was a good a time as any to add a new face to the family.

Wade followed her downstairs, his bare feet padding against the floor. "Hey, peanut? You okay?" he asked, noticing her tension. He leaned against the counter, watching as she rummaged through the fridge. "You're thinking about how to break it to Ellie, aren't you?"

"I am, yeah." She nodded pensively, reaching into the fridge and grabbing the whipped cream. She squirted some into her mouth and sighed, then turned back to look for something else in the fridge.

Wade chuckled and shook his head.

"You're really going to use whipped cream as a coping mechanism, huh?"

He pushed off the counter and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.

"Hey, maybe I can help you come up with a plan. You know, we are married for a reason. Or is that lil ring on that finger worthless now?" Wade joked, holding up his own hand to show his wedding band. It gleamed in the soft sunlight, making Y/N relax slightly upon seeing it.

"You're right, Wade. I'm sorry. I just...I dunno...what if she gets mad? Is all...'waah, you guys are totally ruining my life!' Or something..." The woman found some stuff to make a ham sandwich and grabbed it, setting down the whipped cream in the process. She shut the fridge door with her hip and walked over to the kitchen counter to start assembling her lunch.

Wade's arms tightened around her waist as he leaned in close, his voice taking on a soothing tone.

"Ahahahaha, peanut, you're thinking about this all wrong. Ellie loves us both, and she'll adjust to the new addition just fine. And if she doesn't...well, we'll deal with that when the time comes." He nuzzled her ear. "Besides, I've got a plan. We can make it fun! We can have a family meeting and explain everything together." Wade offered, which made Y/N relax slightly.

"How soon should we do this? We have no idea if it worked today. For all we know, we might have to keep trying to get me pregnant. After all...they taught us in high school that getting pregnant a second time was so much harder than the first time, Wade..." she rambled nervously. Wade gave her a lopsided grin, finding her as adorable as the day they first met.

Wade's grip on her waist relaxed, and he let out a deep sigh. "Yeah, yeah, I know all about the stats and stuff. But we're not gonna worry about that right now. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." He pulled back and looked at her with a serious expression. "Let's just focus on enjoying this moment for now. We've got our little bundle of kickass growing inside you, and we should be celebrating that! The second addition to the Deadpool family! Hot damn, I'm like Bruce Wayne collecting kids here!" He joked.

"But we don't actually know yet...we only just tried less than an hour ago...what if it didn't take?" She frowned, finally finding making a sandwich. She offered it to him, opting to make another one for just herself if he accepted the lunch. Wade graciously took the sandwich and watched as she grabbed him a plate from the cabinet behind her, giving her a silent 'thank you'. She smiled, then sighed as reality crashed back down onto her.

Wade's face lit up with a mischievous grin as he bit into the sandwich, groaning happily at how good it tasted.

"Ahahahaha, peanut, you're so worried about it not taking that I think we need to celebrate either way," His blue eyes sparkles with amusement as he continued. "Win or lose, we're having fun today. And if it didn't take...well, we'll just have to try again soon, won't we?~"

"I guess you're right. It not working just means more sex for the both of us, huh?" she smiled slightly, working on making her own sandwich quietly. Y/N giggled at how Wade hopped up and down excitedly, his sandwich gripped tightly in his hands.

Wade's eyes lit up with excitement as he nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, hell yeah! More sex is always a good thing in my book. And who knows, maybe we'll get lucky and it'll take on the second try," He chuckled to himself, taking another bite of his sandwich. "But even if not, I'm happy to keep trying...for science."

"Hmm, I think you just miss me and all the hot, raunchy sex we used to have before we became parents, don't you?~" Y/N giggled. "We both became so busy what with you being a dad and becoming more of an anti-hero and me switching jobs to stay at home with El."

Wade's face turned bright red as he coughed, trying to play it cool. "What? No way, peanut! I just...I mean, yeah, okay fine. You're right. Being parents is awesome and all that jazz, but let's be real...we used to have some crazy hot times in the bedroom," He winked at her mischievously. "And I'm not saying we can't get back to those times now that Ellie's getting older."

"So you dig the mom bod?" she asked self-consciously. Wade nodded eagerly.

"Uh, a doy, my little MILF. Of course I dig the mom bod, sugar tits. You always looked bangin' but the way you got all curved up makes me hard as a rock God DAYUM." He flirted, spanking her ass playfully. Y/N yelped, her face turning bright red in response.

"Wade, knock it off..." she laughed, clearly flustered.

"Why should I, pookie bear? I'm just giving you some good ole fashioned Wade Wilson luvins! I wanna make my dear wifey feel better, and what better way than doing what I do best? Being a vulgar and annoying asshole to her?" Wade grinned, the smile almost reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat from Alice In Wonderland. Y/N rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smile.

"There's that smile, firecracker! I love having such a sexy wife all to myself! Not once have I wanted anyone else as soon as you strutted your way into my life, pretty girl." Wade flirted, lightly spanking his wife's ass again and howling obnoxiously like a wolf. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she playfully tried to swat at Wade's hand, but he was too quick and continued to tease her. She let out a little squeal of delight as he spanked her ass, feeling a rush of excitement course through her veins.

"Oh, stop it! You're making me blush!" She laughed, trying to maintain a stern expression while secretly enjoying all the attention.

"Nuh uh, no. I vowed to make you feel good today, and that means I gotta get those feels back up to the good status." He whispered, moving behind her and cupping both her breasts. He softly massaged both, feeling her melt slightly against his warm hands.

"That's it, baby. Let me take care of you today. I wanna make today all about you. You've done so much for our family and have always been there for me, even when I was a blabbermouth of a Merc. Yet you always seemed to see the good in me. You remember that talk we had all those years ago? About the kintsugi thing?" He asked, his voice turning to a low rumble as he continued to massage her breasts. She sighed and leaned her back against his chest, relaxing even more as they stood together in the middle of the kitchen. The sunshine illuminated her hair, making it even more shiny as it framed her face just right.

"Yeah, I think so. Something about us fixing each other like the kintsugi concept, yeah?" Y/N asked tentatively. Wade nodded, kissing her neck softly.

"You're a damn good scientist, baby. Never let that go, okay? You always talk big shit about me being an anti-hero now...but you're really the one who deserves more praise. You saved my life. If it wasn't for you, I'd still probably be semi-homeless, addicted to drugs and addicted to meaningless relationships as a merc. You saw someone so genuinely fucked up and decided...'I want that one'. And dammit, I can't lie, your stubbornness really came in handy this time." Wade chuckled softly, a warm smile on his lips. "Plus, that serum you made all those years ago gave me my looks back. Now our daughter has a normal looking dad and never has to know what I looked like before. And yeah, you didn't mind when I was all mutated and cancery, but I did, peanut...I did...cause why would such a goddess like you want anything to do with some freak like me...?" He hid his face against her back. Dammit, he hated being vulnerable, but he knew Y/N needed to know the truth. Over the years he had become a lot more sappy thanks to her.

Her eyes welled up with tears as she felt Wade's words wash over her. She wanted to hold him close, but he continued to hide his face against her back.

"Wade, stop it," She whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. "You're being ridiculous...I loved you then and I love you now. You were never a freak to me...you were always my broken thing of beauty." She smiled softly, feeling a lump form in her throat.

"Oh come on...let's face the music, Y/N. I don't think life would be as good or even as easy if I didn't look like my old self again...you really gave me a whole-ass second chance, babe. You brought me back to life and screamed in my face 'YOU MATTER' until eventually you got me believing it, too. That's damn impressive if you ask me. You...managed to fix the Merc With A Mouth." Wade moved to stand in front of her and cupped both her cheeks with his hands, causing her to look up at him and set down her sandwich on the counter.

Y/N's eyes sparkled with tears as she looked up at Wade, her voice barely above a whisper.* "You're making me cry again, dammit," She whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

"But you know what? I don't care. Because when I look at you...I see the man I fell in love with. The one who was broken and lost, but still had so much heart. And that's what I fixed...not just your face." She smiled softly, wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye.

"How the hell did a devil like me get an angel like you, sweet stuff?" Wade laughed, voice heavy with emotion. Damn, now HE wanted to cry a little. Fuck, being a husband and father had made him go soft. Whatever, it's not like he needed to be overly cocky at the moment, anyways.

"You're no devil. You just needed someone to talk to. Someone to actually listen to the shit you were saying. I don't think anyone did before, did they?" Y/N asked softly, and Wade nodded.

"When you're a merc like I was, talk was kinda cheap in the grand scheme of things, ya know? But well, surprisingly I'm happy I decided to become less of a mercenary and more of an anti-hero. Maybe the Avengers will finally take me on, yeah?" His blue eyes shined with hope as he looked at her. She smiled warmly at him and reached up to ruffle his fluffy brown hair.

"Wade, they would be lucky to have a guy like you on their team." Y/N said.

The couple embraced, swaying slowly in the middle of the kitchen. They were happy, and that's all that really mattered in the end.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

FOR A BEAT OF HEART, THE BREATH IS SHOT. AND WITHIN A BREATH, THE HEART IS CAUGHT. THE PIPES ARE BURSTING, UNDER GREAT STRESS, BOLTS TORN ASUNDER, MAKING A MESS. A FINAL COUGH, A FINAL RETCH, A GOREY SLOUGH, CLAIMED BY WRETCH.

[chimerahyperfix]

CW: Graphic depictions of violence, lots of Death and Gore, Psychological horror for like 3 lines, mentions of drowning. Please read the tags and take caution. This one's more than a little visceral.

-----

The King is here.

You walk through crowded halls of rushing Housemaidens getting into defensive positioning. It's like fighting a wave in the ocean, hard to push through the crowd. You make do anyways, curling through paths you normally wouldn't take.

It's a big deal to everyone but you, at this point. This is the big event, the big fight; to you it's simply where time loops back. Just another day, y'know? You've done it over and over, and you'll probably keep doing it anyways.

It's odd, pushing through the crowd. Everyone is going one way and you are going another. Rushing versus strolling. Your hands are in the pockets of your lab coat. You're practically whistling, for crab's sake!

You simply cannot be bothered this loop. It's a failure from the start: you crabbed up making the bomb, which means you're crabbed from the very beginning. You climbed up the Favor Tree and wedged yourself between the braches for a few hours to pass the time, because looping back would be too much of an inconvenience, and you could just wait until the tears started spawning in the house to go back. The birds had a good time at least, one starting to craft a nest next to you.

You ghosted throughout the day, and now its go time. Everyone else is prepared and ready to fight for time itself, and here you are just. Walking. Realistically you're searching for a tear to stop it all before it starts, but luck isn't on your side this loop.

You can hear it, hear it-- the horrors. All the screams of those unfortunate enough to cross the King's path and fight back. It would be easier, for them, to just bow back and let themselves be frozen-- but no one wants to be frozen, because that's having choice itself stolen from you, a cage of ice to lock yourself in forever. It's just as bad as being dead. Stagnant and eternally screaming.

So they march to their deaths.

The King does not take kindly to the Housemaidens fighting back. Some loops, the House isn't prepared for his attack. Those loops are the nice ones, the less gorey ones. Less dead and more frozen bodies, because no one was prepared to brawl with the monster. He can just... swoop on through and take the House without more than a handful of casualties. This loop is one of the bad ones, because your fellow housemaidens were all prepared. You always think your prepared, too, to see the outcome, but you never truly are.

You turn into the main hall, and freeze still.

No matter how many loops you go through, the carnage always gets to you. There's a nasty, overpowering smell of iron in the air and big dark stains painting the walls, the floors and the roof. Bits and pieces of mashed guts and viscera. There were people in this hallway, once.

Not anymore.

It makes you sick to your stomach like every other time. Just the thought of it. There were people here and now there's only parts of them left. Just ten minutes ago or so, there were people here.

There were people here.

The gore goes in a trail down the hall. Paints practically everything-- including frozen people, if you look down the hall. All frozen with shock and absolute horror on their faces. You recognize some of them.

You try not to think about it.

You push on. Try to ignore the way the blood seeps into your shoes very fabric so they become damp. Try to ignore the fact you're trailing someone's very life behind you now with bloody shoe prints.

There are still no tears.

Plan B, then. The King himself.

You hate going against the King. It always ends terribly with you in agony. But that's the only option left right now, so you chase him down on his little path carved from the blood of the innocent. You find him quickly, too- just down the hall.

He stops before you can get too close. The smell in the air is overpowering, the sharp tang of blood and the burning sensation of the sugar.

"Burning one." He says to you. You're not sure where he pulled that one from: the nickname was something different at some point, but you've long forgotten what it was. Maybe it's the smell of burnt, rotting sugar or maybe it's the potions that burnt your throat. You're not sure anymore.

He just... stands there. Turns around and looks at you. You can feel the dead expression you're pulling as you stare back. Blood glints on his armor, shining and the worst sight in the world and all the same kinda beautiful in its own way? Like the lightless gore is the night sky itself, sparkling with little dots. Makes you feel sick just thinking that.

"How have you done it?" He asks. He asks it every time the two of you face off, the same five words. How. A inquiry. Something you have done, you shouldn't have, and he knows it.

You... think you've gotten it, now. Your hypothesis: How you wished. It's not something you were supposed to do. You did something different something WRONG, and it did something to time itself, tearing a hole in the fabric of space. It's wrong. It's wrong, and you know it and so does the King.

He stares in your direction. You think? Despite his hands, blood-stained as they are, not being infront of his face, the mop of hair is still in the way. You can feel the glare still. Enraged. Daggers in your side.

"I don't know." It's the truth.

"You don't know?"

"I don't remember."

The King goes silent. It's odd, having an actual conversation with him. Even if it was a tiny exchange, it still throws you off. He's willing to talk, even if just a question. He's never really talked to you-- or anyone, to your knowledge-- before.

"Ouuuuhhhh... of course you don't." He wails. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard to you. "You shouldn't have been able too, oohhh... not at all..."

He raises a fist up. It sparkles like the night sky, dark dripping from between his fingers. There's still someone's remains painted on them. Preemptively you brace and throw your arms up in an attempt to block.

It's a different thing that hits you. A new attack. A giant open palm slams into your chest, and you go flying backwards into the wall. The world turns to slow motion as something in you SNAPS. Crunches. Your bones shatter and explode with the force and speed, shooting little shards of agony everywhere.

It hurts. It HURTS. Pain rips through your entire body, and you realise you've started to scream when your chest begins to hurt. Blood splatters onto your glasses, blotting out your vision.

You look up at the King. How'd you get on the floor? How are you breathing, with no lungs? You can see fragments of bone stuck between the metal of his armor.

"Let this be a lesson to you, Burning one."

Metal clinks, and your vision swims-- dots in the corners, figures blur. Blood drips down into your left eye and paints half of your vision a dark shade. Nothing but pain.

Make it stop. Make it stop, make it stop make it stop-- it hurts, it hurts it hurts it hurts.

You

Simply stop thinking. Just for a moment.

So your brain can catch up! Yeah, sure. That's a good enough excuse.

Just. Pain. You are pain incarnate, and that's all you will be until you die slowly and loop back.

You

Blink,, and

The King. Is gone. You can hear him leaving, loud stomping footsteps dissapearing down a bloodstained trail, and you just stare.

How lucky, HOW LUCKY of you to be left alive this time. Like this isn't a fate worse than death. You gasp for air, and realise all you have left is blood filling your lungs.

It hurts. You want it to end, now. It's hard to see, over the blood and spots dancing across your eyes, but you see them; tears, floating around you. A quick out. You reach out, and the pain in you flares alive, ripping and tearing you apart. You feel like your flesh is going to peel off.

Your fingers brush into one of the tears, and you sob as the ice rolls down your arm and consumes you. It feels a hundred times better than what you were feeling before.

You freeze in time-- and luckily theres no nightmare you have to endure, you just wake back up at your desk. You spend a good chunk of the morning curled up in the bathroom getting sick, because, wow! That's the worst one yet! It's curled into your very being, the feeling of breaking your bones like rock candy, the feeling of drowning in blood.

You just... have to do it better this time, or... something. Hope is fading away into background static. You can't... do this anymore. It hurts too much. You want it to stop. Please make it stop.

[trans-axolotl]

just said goodbye to the therapist i've been seeing for the past four years and the only therapist i've ever trusted and i am SO emotional rn, mostly in a good way. it was really special to be able to just talk about everything from the past four years and hear her perspective on exactly how much i've grown. there were so many ways i was hurting so much when i was 18 that i had forgotten about. and she reminded me about how at our first session i said that i didn't think it would be possible for me to have a future at all and then here i am, living out all the dreams of my younger self. i almost started fucking CRYING. she said that she was so honored by the trust i had placed into her, knowing all my institutionalization trauma and it turns out she knew i was lying to her for like the first six months i saw her LMFAO but that she thought it would be worth it if she could prove to me that i could trust her. she read things about disability justice and anticarceral psych inbetween sessions so she could better figure out how to support me and never once threatened to call the cops. idk i just appreciate how much she was there for me over the past four years and it truly feels like the end of an era. just. wow. SO Many emotions

[immagods]

"You're our kid Omega. You always will be."

Dad Hunter is so special to me

[vehemourn]

knowing you is worth celebration

[undergoing-mitosis]

i am keeping both freminet and chongyun on my team and using them both as dps i do not care that they are both cryo claymore characters (so less capability for elemental reactions) cause they are my silly little autism children and i love them and i will protect them with my life and nothing that anyone says can stop me

oh yeah also i pulled the bell for the first time today and yes apparently it is by far not the best weapon for chongyun but it FITS HIM SO WELL so i simply do not care

like look at my boy 🥹 it matches his belt 🥹

[des-fangirl]

So thisss pretty guy? Looks cool right? Im super proud of him, it's like my first time sculpting something on my own since uhh primary school?😭

But

This. Little gremlin. Decided he could just FALL while im getting him out of the freezer AND BREAK INTO LOTS OF PIECES!! WTF MAN!! DIDN'T WE HAVE SOMETHING GOING ON? They're not lying when they say he's abusive.

But nvm im making a new one :) surely no backstabbing this time, right Bill? Stay tuned! Im gonna finish his bowtie and platform to stand on tomorrow i hope

[aliengirl]

would it be bad if i use Cassandra's baby, aka a grimborn, for the Occult Baby Challenge?

[sluckythewizard]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, are you okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like a mouse to a snake.

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

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

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

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

A STARTLING RINGING;

Splits the moment,

Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,

As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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