But Not Quite - Tumblr Posts
OC art!
no way, art that isn’t fanart????? guess what tho it’s still homestuck >:3
AM DESIGNN!!!
I was planning to create a new one, but it’s unlikely that I’ll do it in the near future
Summer sketches by Daria Zarankina
bird boy standing his ground. wvhat more is there to say?
Thank you!! I really appreciate it <3 <3
It fits somewhere between Tyrell learning of Elliot’s DID disorder, and the kind of Tyrell we see in 407. He’s far more himself, and is letting go of the facade of who he think he should be. Instead, he’d rather be happy than building a life he doesn’t want.
Vice
Hello! I am here with a lovely Tyrell x Elliot fan fic that I have finished up. I am currently waiting to get a invitation from Archive of Our Own, which will be happily posted when I received their invitation. In the meantime, I am posting it to Tumblr.
Please enjoy our bad-boys feeling their emotions and having to deal with the situations that they face. Hopefully, it enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
______
“I thought smoking was above you,” Elliot quipped as Tyrell reached for the pack. Already, the hacker had slipped the cigarette between his lips and lit it- dragging with a needing ferocity. How many cigarettes had he had before..? To many to count, or give a shit about. This wouldn’t be the thing to kill him- so why should he care? If he was going to be done in, it would be at the mercy of his own choices. Of his own karma.
Cigarettes would kill him, if he lived long along to even get there.
Elliot looked dead and hollow, coping with the uncountable rounds of the insurmountable stress and grief of his own actions. He hated it, and he had to live long enough to at least set things right.
“I’m still human” Tyrell bit, taking a deep breath as he drew the smoke into his lungs- relief rushing his brain as he slowly pushed the smoke through his nose. He looked like a dragon in the moonlight, ready to bite. Stress and grief had worn him thin.
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i love the idea of curioso sitting on the couch watching cartoons and him singing from happiness is too cute 🤧
thank youu for gracing this niche fandom with your writing! ❤️
Thank *you*! I'm glad you're enjoying the story still..! <3
I can't wait for Curioso's past to come up, I have some personal headcanons + additions I've added to it that I'm dying to get to. Time and patience, thouuugh....
hey!! Here’s a writing prompts for you: a human accidentally meets a sly, villainous vampire at a bar or club and the vampire messes with their mind (compulsion, hypnosis, or something else) to get their blood?
Hello! Thank you so much for the ask!
Someone entered the club, and Hannah felt it. The crowd got a bit quieter, as if someone had lowered the volume, and she turned to look—
A hand caught her chin, turning it back towards the bartender as its owner settled beside them.
“What’s a lovely thing like you doing in a place like this?” Their voice was smooth in an uncomfortable way, in scalpel precision and well oiled perfection.
The noise of the club slammed back into place.
She blinked, fingers cold around her glass.
“A night club?” Her voice felt rough, and she wasn’t sure why. The newcomer eyed her, and she was’t sure if it was appreciation or something a shade darker.
Her fingers began to ache around their glass. “As far as pickup lines go, that was spectacularly awful. Maybe start with your name next time.”
“Ezekiel”
Hannah looked over, and found Ezekiel grinning, mouth sharp like barbed wire.
“How biblical,” she murmured, and the bartender refilled their glass. Ezekiel simply watched, hands empty. The bartender didn’t offer to take their order. Ezekiel didn’t try to place one, either.
“You never answered my question.”
Hannah frowned, brow crinkling. “You mean your awful pickup line? I wasn’t aware that type of statement garnered a response. Or any type of favorable reaction, generally.”
Ezekiel simply smiled, and her heart jumped.
She sighed. “Enjoying a night out. Having fun. What does it look like?”
Ezekiel leaned closer, close enough that she could almost feel their breath against her ear, but not quite.
“It doesn’t look like fun,” they murmured. She stared into her glass.
“And this is your problem, how?”
She could feel them smiling.
“Pretty things shouldn’t be sad.”
She scoffed. “If you go away, I’ll give you enough money to buy a better book of pickup lines.”
This time, Ezekiel laughed.
“I don’t need help in that department, trust me,” they leaned against the bar, and took her drink from her. They sipped from it, too pretty and too sexual and too gorgeous, and smiled around the rim of it. “Do you think you aren’t pretty, Hannah?”
She jerked her head to look at them.
“I didn’t tell you my name,” she said, and it was entirely too close to a yelp. Her breath stuck in her throat like a rock, and she grabbed for her bag—
“It’s on your napkin,” Ezekiel soothed.
It wasn’t. She knew it wasn’t.
The air felt too hot, like she was drowning, and the lights looked the same but they were the wrong color.
Her napkin flickered when she looked at it, and her name was there.
Her heart slowed but her gut clenched.
“That wasn’t there,” she said shakily, and Ezekiel watched her with something that was a bit too hungry to be concern.
“Why would I lie?”
Hannah laughed, and it was panicked, and she stood up to leave.
“I think I should go—“ her eyes caught Ezekiel’s, and her temples twinged with pain, and she blinked, and she was sitting down.
“Are you alright, Hannah?”
The chair under her swiveled a bit, and she looked over at Ezekiel.
“Yeah, why?”
The bartender refilled her drink.
“You just seemed a bit panicked, is all.”
There was something close to amusement in Ezekiel’s eyes, so she laughed.
“Why would I be panicked?”
They grinned.
“Question of the year, love.”
She laughed again, and the world fritzed, like a bad signal television laying two images over one another, and snapped back to normal.
Her head hurt. The glass was too loud when she set it down.
“I think I’ve had enough to drink,” she said honestly, and it came out too loud. She put a stack of cash on the bar, and stood up.
“It was lovely to meet you—“ she caught Ezekiel’s eye, and she blinked, and she was sitting down.
They were laughing.
“What happened?” She asked, and her tongue felt numb, as if it were the wrong size for her mouth.
Ezekiel smiled, and for a moment, she was reminded of the big cats at the zoo, with that intelligent gleam of their eyes, the sharpness of their teeth.
She blinked and it was gone.
“Nothing, love.”
For some reason, the nickname made her warm, bubbly like champagne.
She laughed.
Ezekiel leaned forward, and she shivered.
“Why don’t we get out of here? It’s a bit loud.”
The noise was deafening.
She nodded.
“Yeah, let me just call a cab—“ she punched the numbers into her phone, glancing at Ezekiel, and when she looked back, her phone was gone.
Her head hurt, and something was wrong, horribly wrong.
“Where’s my—“
“I have it, love,” Ezekiel said. They tucked it into their pocket. “Come now, let’s go.”
She didn’t want to, and she didn’t know why she didn’t want to, but she opened her mouth to protest and found herself wrapping her arm in Ezekiel’s outside.
She jerked, but they didn’t let go.
“Alright there, love?”
“Let go of me,” she hissed, and they glanced down, amused.
“You’re very resistant to glamour, do you know that?”
Hannah grimaced, tugging at her arm.
“Let me go, or I’ll scream—“ she glanced out, because if they were by the club, then countless people would hear her scream. And somewhere among them would be someone who would help.
They weren’t outside the club. She had no idea where they were.
“What,” she breathed, and Ezekiel hummed.
“Resistant, but not immune,” they commented. They eyed her, examining her face, and tutted. “Still on the brink though.”
They turned to face her, keeping her arm clasped in their own.
“Hannah, love, I need you to do something for me,” her blood felt sluggish, and she wanted to start screaming, but her mouth wouldn’t move, and she was so so cold—
She nodded.
Ezekiel grinned, tilting her chin up, before placing his lips just below ear.
“Hannah darling,” he murmured, and her mind was a mass of colors and shapes and she was on the edge of being lost and she was scared and she didn’t want to let go and she wanted to go home. “Fall.”
She woke up in the ER.
| The Squid noticed the unusual behavior of the Twisteds, but was too afraid to show herself. She didn’t know if they were actually different or just pretending, and she certainly didn’t want to get chased by a big, fast dog. She hesitated before moving away from the Twisteds, coincidentally tripping because one of her tentacles was stuck on the wall. She yelps slightly on face-plants, immediately freezing when she realizes that she might’ve revealed herself. |
| Floors, floors, floors. At this point it doesn’t matter how far they are. They’ve lost a few people, but managed to hold through and survive countless floors. They aren’t even sure where they are now, but they just want to get home.|
| There’s a Snowball-like Toon, a Sun one, a Clock one, someone with a Squid-like head, a Palette and a Lollipop. I wonder who’ll they encounter on this floor? |
(*giggles* hiiiiii)
(:3)
| The elevator dings as it reaches floor 27. There should be at least 5 Twisteds on this floor, a hassle to deal with depending on who they are. It's a warehouse though, which means there's lots of room for distraction while the others get to the machines and back to the elevator. |
| Hopefully this will be a good floor... |