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Union of Thoughts
Forum-Index → Fanmades → Fanfictions → Union of Thoughts
Posted: Sun, 30/10/2016 17:20 (7 Years ago)
I made a pun in the title please love me.
Short vent stories + character development, featuring my self insert.
Please don't post.
Posted: Sun, 30/10/2016 18:14 (7 Years ago)
"You seem upset." 75's two pair of eyes stared into Soviet's on the other side of the steel table. As per usual, the rabbit's face beared no emotions and it's unblinking eyes are tearing up void liquid. The taller of the two smirked, eyes staring off into the distance. "How would you know." Soviet voiced. His words are a question but he didn't tone it as such, it's more like a matter-of-fact statement. 75 only stayed silent, sipping the leftover alcohol in the glass in it's paw. "Your emotions are fake, you portray them and sometimes even you feel as if it's genuine." 75 answered after a long pause and poured some more of the strong alcohol beverage they are having into it's glass. "When you stop, you don't feel anything, you feel empty. You need someone to stop that empty emotion and replace it with fabricated and complicated emotions." It added, wiping away a drop of void liquid before it falls into the drink in it's hand. "Detached away from your supply of drug-emotions- you feel what's left of it. Loneliness, sadness, pain. That empty feeling mixed with dread and despair, it's what you feel." 75 finished and poured another glass. "You're not wrong." Soviet unsuprisingly drinks Vodka right from the bottle, not even flinching as he gulped down the whole bottle of rustic beverage without withdrawing or stopping. "Infact, you're right. It's all a trainwreck in there." He sighed, setting down the bottle on the table and stretched his long body on the cold, metal surface, almost touching 75's bottles. "You choose to ignore them and not succumb to the strong, negative emotions that your mind had drugged you with." 75 rested a paw on Soviet's stretched arm. "You choose to suffer because no one wanted to help you." Soviet smirked once more, laughing a little. "It's not like I have a choice, do I? No one would understand." He paused, face turning blank once more. "I don't want them to understand." His tone was emotionless as of his father's but there's a hint of a strong emotion in it. Was it anger? "Saying all of this risk what others think of me. Will they think I'm just telling lies and deceit for the purpose of being special? Will they sympathize with me? Will they try to help? Will they just laugh at my pathetic attempts of gaining their compassion? What a gamble." Soviet sits straight again, leaning his body a bit to the table. "…" Both of them stayed silent for awhile, with mostly 75 sipping the remainder of it's bottles and pouring them into it's glass. However, after awhile, it got off the table and moved to the side. In that instant, Soviet's sclera changed into crimson pink and his pupils stayed white, only changing from the cross shape. Then, he kicked and sent the heavy steel table flying. The first thing that hit the ground was the glasses, it echoes in the empty room but then it was deafened by the harsh sound of the table scrapping the floor and hitting the wall. "Always so violent. You never got to do that before." 75 comment, voice unfaltering despite all the alcohol it drank. "You could've talked, instead of doing that." he added, coughing as everything disappears and they are once again in the endless void. "Talk to who, you?" Soviet laughed, eye returning to his father's. After all, it belonged to him, always was. "You're not real, this isn't real, nothing is real. You can't even feel anything, you never could." Soviet gripped his bat out of this air and rest it on his shoulder, eyes staring down at the void monster below him. "The real question is, are you?" 75 grins, void liquid drooling. Everything cuts to black.
Posted: Sun, 18/12/2016 11:18 (7 Years ago)
"That flesh of yours, I hardly see you out of it." 75 laughed, eyes and voice delirious for unknown reasons. Though, it kept it's calm and charismatic voice tone somehow amongst the mixing of it's own voice. "Do you hate the body that I gave to you that much?' It's voice mocked the emotion of sadness. It smiled, void liquid dripping onto the table from his four sullen eyes. Soviet sat across the coffee table, both arm behind the couch he's sitting on. They're not in the void anymore, they're in the real world. In a penthouse of the universe Soviet lived in to be exact. The world the two Void Monsters are in just continued to exist, like it's supposed to.
Empty bottles laying on the floor was joined by another one as Soviet lightly threw an empty bottle of whiskey on the mat. "The body that I you had gifted to me to this living realm isn't someone I'm comfortable seeing myself in." Soviet replied, voice not very sober anymore after dozens and dozens of bottles and being outside of DeVoid. "When I'm intoxicated, I talk like you. It's… hateful." He added, opening a bottle of beer. "I don't believe that's completely honest my dear sulking child. The liquids are talking for you but you're still trying to flatter and lie your way with me." 75 chuckled. It's laying on the couch like a pet: being four legged and all. "Not that I mind, that's how you were raised. That's how I wanted you to be like." It finished talking and stretched it's body like a cat. "That's not what we're talking about right now. That pale flesh you wear is what others see you as, that's what they prefer you as, even. You feel so comfortable being someone else." 75 deducted, saying the last few words mockingly. Then, he wiped the drool on his mouth. "No one liked who you really are under that skin." 75 taunted, grinning widely. "That pale, cold flesh doesn't belong to you. You just liked it because that's what you want to be, so you stayed. Pathetic." 75's voice got deeper and more harsh: anger in it's calm voice. "You're never going to be loved. Deep down you know that. You want to be among the sheeps waiting in line to be eaten and savoured by monsters, to have their faith fail them. All just so you can find happiness." It layed back on the couch, drooling a bit of void liquid as his four eyes stared into Soviet's. "You can't find happiness with the path you're walking." It lastly added and stopped smiling.
Soviet sipped the remaining of the beer. He had only stayed silent for a long time after 75's comment. 75 only stared at him while Soviet avoided eye contact, staring out the penthouse with a stoic face. He threw the bottle with the others and let out a deep sigh, still avoiding eye contact. "What do you want me to say? That you're right?" He voiced, all four eye now shining the same color: red. His white pupil is of a cat's. Formerly it was just like 75's. "You're right and I know that. I won't even try pulling a 'woe is me'." Soviet half whispered, eyes tired and drunk. "What you don't know is that I'm trying my best to improve my [expletive] situation!" Soviet shouted, slit eyes enlarging. His teeth bared when he barked. He then rested his back immediately, head positioned so he stared at the ceiling. Void liquid poured down from his eyes as his once crimson pink and white eyes changed once more to of his father's. "I want to feel like I'm alive." He confessed, facing down now. His voice isn't cracking like he just cried: the void liquids may represent his extreme emotion but his voice betrays it. He took a deep breath.