#epicaandk-creative

[lilpuffyart]

Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw

My fav subject, even if disliked by most artists is, well, backgrounds and tiny details!

As for characters, it depends

Forneus for cotl, Riz and Peach for beastars

[talorly]

Is Benrey still the big bad at the end of the extraction au?

lets not get ahead of ourselves. theres another difference in this au, before we know what happens at the end.

[catcodemon]

“ i carried you. ” prompt please

ok i have Done it

Vega finds him slumped against the wall of the armory. Apparently, he had just enough energy to remove the armor and stow away weapons before crashing. Vega wasn’t surprised; it had been literal days since the Slayer had slept. Days on end of ripping and tearing, slaying demons by the dozens without pause. He didn’t necessarily like that the Slayer pushed himself to such hard limits, but he has figured out that the man is as stubborn and resolute as can be and that there is no way to change his mind.

Now, the issue presents itself: he could not leave the man here. It could be detrimental to his health if he slept in such an uncomfortable position. He would become sore, and Vega knows the Slayer is not one to ease back into things. He had to get him to their shared room.

Vega’s personal mech is tall and lanky. He seriously doubts he could even lift the marine. However, he has never truly attempted to gauge the mech’s power. Who knows? Perhaps he’ll be surprised by his own strength.

He steps into the armory silently, having learned to move without a sound so as to not disturb the Slayer’s rest before. Into the room he slinks, mind flashing to how Inky would do the same thing when she wished to be quiet. Prowess, he thinks. 

Standing before the Slayer, he considers. If he wraps an arm under the Slayer’s knees and the other behind his shoulders, he may be able to carry the Slayer back to the room bridal-style.

The idea of lifting the Slayer is daunting.

But the idea of being able to lift him is exciting.

Vega stoops over, carefully adjusting the body in front of him to fit into his arms. Now’s the moment, Vega. You either succeed in lifting and carrying him, or he falls to the floor and likely rips you apart on reflex.

Arms firmly positioned, he stands. Lift with your legs, his mind provides. Less stress on your back.

And suddenly, he’s standing straight, with him in his arms.

Vega’s astonished. He can feel the Slayer evenly breathing, in and out, and the faint, rhythmic thudding of his heartbeat. He feels the Slayer’s mussed hair against his forearm. He can feel the muscular back and shoulders.

You best get to the room before that astonishment saps your strength, Vega.

Carefully, he readjusts the Slayer in his (apparently strong) arms and heads for the door. The armory is a short walk from their shared room, for Slayer was uneasy to be out and around without the Praetor suit when not in the room itself.

Down the hall he pads, paying mind to keeping the tension in his arms firm and steady. Apparently, the Slayer was thoroughly exhausted, as he does not stir.

As the doors to the room whisk open, Inky wakes from a nap in the chair with a tittering mmr? Vega hums at her.

The blankets on the bed are folded neatly, one of the things Vega had done while he awaited his partner’s return. He sets the Slayer on top of them, not bothering to cover him any. 

Inky trots over and perches on the bed next to Vega before slipping over to lay in the crook of the Slayer’s arm. 

Vega commits the image to memory.

⁂

The Slayer wakes slowly, for once. No jolting from a nightmare, no tension in his body. He feels a warmth on his arm and cranes his head to see Inky curled up neatly and sound asleep. He can’t move now. There are many things he’d do, but disturbing Inky for no reason was not one of them.

Vega looks up from the chair where he’d been engrossed in a tablet. “Ah, Slayer. You’ve woken.”

But the Slayer remembers falling asleep somewhere else. He remembers lamenting how he didn’t have enough energy to make it to the room as he collapsed.

Vega catches his eye. “You are wondering how you got here.”

The Slayer blinks at him.

“I found you in the armory already unconscious. To get you here I...carried you.”

He can’t help it; he lets out a disbelieving huff.

“Not a false word has left me, Slayer,” Vega responds. “Though it was difficult, I did, indeed, carry you back here.”

The Slayer knew that Vega could, but was disbelieving in the fact that he had.

“Sleeping in the position you were in would be harmful to joints and would create sore muscles. To save you the hassle, I brought you here.”

The Slayer thinks it over for a moment, before using one hand to gesture ‘thank you’ to the AI.

Vega straightens in his chair. “It was not an issue, Slayer. I will do it again if needed.”

The Slayer has to fight back a yawn. He stretches, then beckons Vega over. Vega follows immediately, jumping at any possibility of being close with the marine and their mutual companion. 

Vega tucks into the crook of the Slayer’s other arm, head resting on his bulky shoulder. He can feel the heat radiating off the soldier, likely the source of what kept Inky magnetized to his side.

Vega could see the appeal.

[icy-roulette]

i couldnt help but make fan-art of this damnable bitch the second @epicaandk-creative drew her 😭

i hate Amanda so so much grgrgrrrrrr 🤬🤬🤬 please go read this frenrey fic to see what i’m talking about 

[prince-aster]

i hate this character so much that im compelled to draw her out of spite @epicaandk-creative <3 anyways fuck Amanda

[catcodemon]

“don’t do that. don’t shut me out.” 

i know i said angst hurts but here i am....writing some,,,but i put fluff in it to fix it

He could feel the guilt sinking in, oozing like tar into his body and settling harshly. 

Why? Why wasn’t he good enough? Why wasn’t he quick enough? Why didn’t he say no to Hayden? Why--

He feels a brush against his leg, but doesn’t look at it. He knows it’s Inky; he knows she can tell he’s upset and she’s trying to help. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve her.

A bold, brash, harsh thought barges into his mind that makes him cringe outright.

He shouldn’t have survived the UAC.

The only reason he had was because the Slayer made the split-second decision to make a backup of him. If he wouldn’t have, Vega wouldn’t be here. He’d be gone. No more. He almost wishes for it.

The Slayer ambles in, glasses set low on his nose. He does notice Vega sitting at the consoles, staring blankly out of the window, but heeds it no mind at first. Vega knows that the Slayer has picked up on things he does; skygazing is one of those things. 

Still, his step falters after a moment. He pauses, watching Vega. Inky sits at Vega’s feet, letting out a whiny meow to garner his attention. When he ignores her (which is something rare for either of them to do), he can tell the Slayer knows something is wrong. He sets down what’s in his hands and pads over.

Vega doesn’t look at him. If anything, he hunches down further into his chair. His hands tuck in and his head is down.

The Slayer carefully pokes his head into Vega’s field of view. He blinks at him to no response.  

Vega covers his face absentmindedly. Does he wish the Slayer would leave him be? Does he wish for him to intervene and help? He doesn’t quite know. 

The Slayer peels his hands off of one side of his face, forcing him to look at the other.

The Slayer holds one hand comfortingly. When Vega moves to tuck back into himself again, the Slayer grabs his chin gently. 

‘Don’t do that,’ he signs quickly. ‘Don’t shut me out.’

It breaks Vega. He collapses forward, burying his face in the Slayer’s shirt as something akin to a sob escapes him. The Slayer is quick to react, bringing both arms up to steady him and hold him close. They don’t speak, not now, but eventually, they’re settled on the floor. Vega is clinging to the Slayer, hands gripping tight. Any other time, he’d fret that he might not understand the mech’s strength and that he may make the Slayer sore, but now, he doesn’t care. He curls as close as he can, legs tucked to his chest.

Inky, seeing the cuddlepile, quickly joins in. As the Slayer’s lap is filled and Vega’s is unavailable, she simply resorts to curling up on one of the Slayer’s broad thighs, tucking her paws underneath her and slitting her eyes slowly.

“You’re okay,” the Slayer rasps out, voice hoarse.

This must be serious. The Slayer only speaks in dire situations, where his hands are full in the heat of battle and he needs something. 

But then, Vega realizes: his hands are full-- of him. If the Slayer decides that this sort of situation is important enough to speak in, that must mean something.

It means he cares.

[catcodemon]

“Why didn’t you listen to me?”

this one fought me for some reason but by golly here it is. was going to be angsty but i went the hell off with it

“Why didn’t you listen to me?” Vega scolds as he ushers the Slayer down the hall. “I do believe I specifically stated that it was a bad idea, you know.”

He can tell the Slayer doesn’t regret what he’s done. In fact, he can damn near feel the satisfied smirk on his face. He’s covered in gore and viscera and the armor is dented from demon claws raking across it. The bastard is probably quite enjoying what he’s done. 

“I told you there were too many to handle at one time,” Vega continues as he drags the marine into the medical bay. “And what did you do?”

‘I went in anyways.’

He wasn’t actually respecting a response, as it was a rhetorical question. As a result, the little quip catches him off-guard. “You...cheeky little--”

Further scolding is cut off by Slayer’s held-back laughter sounding out from the Praetor suit helmet, something he definitely does not hear as often as he’d like. 

The Slayer’s chuckles die off as he fumbles for further words. As the warrior quiets, Vega finds his voice once more. “Are you quite done? You--” the Slayer begins to giggle again. Vega decides to play along. “You insubordinate, wreckless, foolish, careless…”

By now, the Slayer laughs outright. Nothing held back or restrained as usual; these laughs are full of mirth.

Vega could handle a little mischief from his beloved if it meant he would hear this more often.

[catcodemon]

“But I want to hear you sing.” for doomvega?

got two for this one!

He doesn’t notice himself singing lowly as he works. 

It’s something that does not take much thought for him to do--some simple welding, a thing he has done numerous times before. He knows he’d murmur to himself as he worked, but the singing is new. It caught even himself off-guard: a lilting tune coming in the form of his own voice, which he considered drab and ordinary.

He does notice someone pausing in their steps to listen to him as they meandered about.

Vega cuts off abruptly, feeling something akin to...embarrassment sprout within. “My apologies if I disturbed you in any way, Slayer, I was just--”

The Slayer tilts his head questioningly as he looks to Vega. The look on his face is endearing, in a way.

‘Keep going.’

“I’m afraid I’m no good at it,” he laughs nervously.

‘But I want to hear you,’ the Slayer counters simply. 

“I--” he pauses for a moment. The self-consciousness is still there, but the will to make the Slayer smile is stronger. “Alright. Shall I pick up where I left off?”