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More WIP for the comic I am works onnnnnn

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Working on stufff, God I love these dipshits

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For some reason whenever I see the Knight all I can feel is a sense of melancholy

Wanted to challenge myself to a

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Some old Gater art I made a while ago

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Working on thingssssssssss

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Would it be okay, if we were to just... drift away?

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Can confirm its great, check it out!

Dawning Evergreen Chp.02 is out!

May update with a few more pages later this week but the bulk of the chapter is ready to read!

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Tap Tap Tap Chapter 4

I you wanna see the previous chapters check out my account, or read them here! https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catozo

The building itself was unremarkable.

The town itself fit this description too—a small grey collection of buildings that had once been bustling but now slowly slumped into the drudgery that foretold the quiet death of many small towns. Its residents would either flee or be taken over by the haze themselves.

One of the towns residents was sitting quietly in the backroom of an abandoned restaurant.

He was not alone.

William was currently admiring the hole in the wall.

When Henry had started his cautious probing into the false wall that covered the backroom, he had done it as he approached all his projects: quietly and with care. After he had ascertained that William was in there (and had finished throwing up from the initial stench of his rotting corpse), he had only opened enough to just barely slip inside.

It would of course need to be expanded once it was time to leave but the arrangement worked out for now.

Oh Henry, only ever taking as much as he needed and nothing more.

The conversation they had after that is almost already entirely lost to William, he had been too wrapped up in the elation of the first new experience in so long that he hadn't even registered the words that Henry had spoken.

He assumed that this must be another dream, but then Henry had approached and had seen the look of disgust and pity marring his features and hope had started fluttering in what remained of his chest.

The thing about his dreams is that Henry was always the same in them, exactly as William had remembered him.

But always wearing an expression that William had never seen him wear. Something wide and plastic and a far cry from the small soft expression's that he had occasionally gifted him with.

He remembered grabbing him when he got close to investigate and he had been SO warm and William, oh William had been SO cold and Henry.

Henry had gone stock stiff in his embrace before seemingly remembering himself and had started to struggle.

William had held him tighter right up until Henry had reached inside of him and ripped out something that made him lose all use of his right arm.

William had been more receptive to talking after that.

They had spoken, an agreement had been reached, and now Henry was set with the task of bringing somebody back from the dead.

It seemed to him, that such an endeavour would involve a storm and an old laboratory, not two ex business partners squatting in the back room of a children's restaurant.

Henry seemed to have no such issues however, approaching the task with a quiet sort of determination.

After they had shaken hands, Henry had let out a quiet sort of sigh before kneeling in front of him.

“I know its quite soon to add an however, but” he takes a moment too give William a serious look “I need something from you before I make any plans on how to repair…” He takes another second to purse his lips “this”

William doesn't say anything, simply continues what he had been doing this entire conversation.

Drinking in the sight of him.

Henry sighs again “Wil-”

William leans forward suddenly, and is rewarded with the barest flinch from Henry.

They stare at each other for a moment.

Henry once again speaks first, his voice very soft “proud of yourself?”

Williams jaws creak open and he begins to rasp once again. “Nothing else you want to talk about?”

Henry suddenly looks very tired, but he surprises him with a smile, something small and soft and so very sad. “Oh Will, what is there possibly left to say?”

He asks about the remnant and William gives him the information that he wants to know. He's mentions being surprised that Henry hadn't found it.

He thought that the basement of his house would be one of the first locations he would check, the flat look Henry gives him confuses him for a moment until his next question.

Namely, what else is in the basement.

“Ah”, William thinks, fair enough. He tells him and Henry sets out, he comes back the next day and does nothing but stare at him for a him for a long moment, when questioned he simply opens his mouth before shaking his head and kneeling in front of him once more setting the container on the floor next to him.

Henry reaches out and takes his still inactive arm in his hands, turning it around and examining it closely. Strangely during what should be a crucial moment William feels no anxiety, no terror at the thought of being this rotted shell from now on. No anxiety at being this until he isn't anything at all.

Because of course, it would still be HIM wouldn't it?

So when Henry, has finished his examination and had set his hand back on the floor and squarely meets his eye, gold to silver and declare that he thinks he can he feels no relief.

What he does feel however, is pride.

“That's my boy” he thinks (he knows better than to voice this out loud however)

And oh, oh he could.

William knows that his staring bothers Henry, but it is not something he can really control

The sweet pleasure of simply drinking in the sight of him

Henry is kneeling in front of him, Williams outstretched arm laid across his lap as he works to separate wire and metal from tendon and bone. One of the first things his testing had concluded was that the remnant needed an organic base to build off of. Of course William soul was the main building point but Metal simply didn't work. Henry had absentmindedly described it as growing grass out of stone as opposed to soil. William is… not too fond of such an analogy but he cant think of anything better. Besides he is in every way at Henrys mercy so no point in kicking the hornets nest.

Even with this however there is still some parts of him that are completely unsalvageable and will need to be replaced with metal. Henry doesn't even give this information the benefit of having its own conversation. Casually mentioning this while rifling through his tool box, granted William wasn't particularly upset about it (still him) so he supposes he can let it go.

Despite the enormity of the task at hand Henry has a set schedule, he arrives at around 7pm works until he is literally falling asleep. Before stumbling upright and leaving, he never says Goodbye.

He still gets a thrill watching him work, a rising sort of excitement that he had been thrilled to discover that death had not snatched from him.

Sometimes however Henry does not gather his things and stride away wordlessly, sometimes instead his work becomes slower and slower until he finally slumps forward and drifts off to sleep.

William likes it when this happens.

A week after he emerges from the room he finds himself unable to drift off and without notice wanders to Henrys bedroom and watches him sleep for a while. He remembers the room, and in turn remembers Henrys warmth.

He climbs into the bed with him, and sleeps without issue until dawn.

He still remembers the excitement at the prospect of leaving that room, never once considering that maybe there was a kind of solace in its simplicity.

In fact he doesn't think of it at all, until one morning he leaves the apartment for the first time to get Henry painkillers.

Ten minutes after leaving the apartment, William finds himself dry heaving next to a dumpster in a damp alleyway.

As he sits there grinding his hands into his skin in a desperate attempt to ground himself William remembers his tomb.

Remembers how all of its horror, it was routine. For all the times he managed to drag himself to the boarded up entrance and claw at it.

How for a long time that was his most pressing issue.

Not suddenly sleepless nights or Henry refusing to even look at him, not being locked into a choice that was never really a choice at all.

It had been less than two months since he had stumbled out of that room, how are things already becoming so tangled?

He grinds his teeth together hard enough to crack molars and tries to remember how to breathe

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thought it was a one-off thing, but i've now seen multiple pictures and videos of red-bellied woodpeckers touching other birds with their tongue at bird feeders. why are they suck little freaks?

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yes

yes

umm fucking sniffsniffsniffsniffsniff ??? ? (x)

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Bro I think every Irish person to ever fucking exist would like to disagree with you there

what does this even mean??? 😭

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Myxomatosis Chapter 4

5 Weeks before Evan falls ill.

Smith is late and Evan is pissed.

Evan really, really does not want to be here but he doesn't exactly have anyone to blame but himself.

There isn't many pieces left now, him Hive and his Father. A small group of souls left stranded after all this.

But

But he doesn't know for a certainty and the information claws at him so he looks and he looks but the information he finds is all things he knows already. However it doesn't bring any comfort only frustration, and it is during one of these frantic searches that he runs into Smith.

Edward Smith was a former… employee of Fazbears. Exactly his place in the company Evans wasn't sure and Smith himself refused to give a straight answer. All he told him and all Evan knew for sure was that he was high up in the company and he knew things.

“Things I would wager that you would be interested in, Mr Afton” he said a smile that Evan really didn't like playing on his lips.

He was also a massive fucking creep. Of course he hadn't done anything overt but every time they were together he would lean in a bit too close, eyes stray over him a bit too much that made him shudder just thinking about it.

Evan had first encountered him in a small town an hour bus rides from his apartment. A town that had recently opened a new Fazbears. He had been paused outside messing with a tape recorder when smith had walked up and flung an arm around his shoulders.

That was the beginning after a couple of interactions where he seemed to be intentionally string Evan along he proposed a meeting place, an address for somewhere only a 15 minute walk from his apartment. He, like an idiot hadn't done any research on the location. Simply filed away the time and shown up when he was meant to.

Only to find himself standing before VERY high end restaurant. Some part of him had almost turned around right then but the thought of all he had done until now pushed him inside.

Its important to note that Evan has been in numerous life and death situations but as he enters the restaurant and feels everyone's eyes on him he wants to sink into the floor. The look the restaurant host gives him does not help the situation either. “May I help you sir?” The man says looking Evan up and down with a distaste he doesn't even try to hide. Swallowing back his nerves he manages to stutter out the Smiths name. Something seems to click in the Hosts eyes as he gives Evan another look over with renewed interest that unsettles him quite a bit before leading him to an empty table.

At this stage he's been waiting for ten minutes, long enough that the not so subtle looks from the restaurants other patrons is wearing away the last of his nerves. Hes in the process of gathering his bag when he finally hears the sound of someone settling in across from him, “ You sure took your ti-”

He stops and stares.

“Hello Darling” His Father says.

“Oh that Rat fucking bastard” Evan thinks, as his Father smiles at him. Evan is going to kill him. Seemingly not bothered by his sons silence William continues “ I hope you don't mind but I ordered for us already, seeing as you-that's not a good idea Evan” Evan almost delights at finally getting a reaction out of him but he's more concerned about grabbing his things and getting the hell out of there. Slinging on his shoulder bag he turns away without a second glance intent on getting back to his shitty apartment and pretending this never happened when his Father speaks up.

“I thought you were here looking for answers, or is that simply not true?”

Evan freezes in place.

His Father seems for a moment completely unbothered adjusting his cuffs and wiping away some imaginary dust on the table before turning his bright eyed gaze back to his only remaining son.

The restaurant is quiet, and Evan would bet that this is the most interesting thing these people have seen in quite a while. Everyone's eyes are on him not just his Fathers and the weight of them is immeasurably heavy.

They stand there for a moment maybe two, neither speaking or moving as Evan weighs his options desperately. When they are interrupted.

“Excuse me sirs, but I have your meal” The waiter bearing their food on the other hand looks at the standoff as if he experience's it at least three times a week. Evan is impressed and his opinion of the man only increases when after placing his Fathers meal in front of him he turns and asks if he would like his to go.

Evan stares a moment longer.

“No” he says sitting back down.

The smile his Father gives him almost makes him get up and leave anyway.

His Fathers proposition is a simple one, he will give Evan whatever information or resources he has in order to help him with his current mission but… Evan has to keep in contact with him.

His Father does not phrase it that way of course, he says it casually as if its a minor side note and not the whole fucking point of all this. “Much easier to work together no? then we can finally put this whole mess behind us” he says while carefully swiping a piece of salmon across his plate. At least he doesn't feign remorse Evan thinks, as he doesn't think he would be able to refrain himself from lunging across the table at him if he did.

He also phrases all of this as if Evan has a choice in the matter but once again that isn't really a surprise, but before he takes his hand there are questions that Evan has to get out.

“Are you going to kill me?” he asks.

For the second time that night he takes his Father by surprise, he pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth before fixing the headlights of his eyes on him once again.

William does not say anything in response but the look he fixes him with is answer enough, but Evan doesn't flinch or look away.

“Ok” he continues “then I'm guessing Smith ratted on me to you which is fair, but how long has he been communicating with you about it?”

His Father doesn't respond or move, he just continues staring. His eyes are flat and cold, more like pieces of granite than anything else. Evan blinks for a second before tilting his head, “Was he only talking to you recently then or-”

“How could you ask me that” William says softly. His voice like his eyes is flat and oh so cold but there is an undercurrent of something hot that betrays his true feelings.

Evan pauses for a moment before.

“So you weren't talking with smith?”

The sounds of breaking glass echo in the restaurant ceasing all conversation and drawing all the eyes to the table once again. William had launched himself to his feet looming over the table and his youngest.

Evan hates himself for it but he cant stop himself from flinching.

That's it he thinks time to leave or he's going to throw up but the waiter has reappeared again as if by magic.

“Is everything alright sirs?” He isn't alone this time however, the man from the front is here as well and is doing a much worse job at hiding his true expression.

The air only seems to grow more tense as William tears his eyes away from him to look at the two staff members.

But as he turns his expression shifts into something pleasant and disarming, its something Evan had witnessed before when he talks to the police, or teachers, or employees.

Its the expression he has when he talks to anyone at all.

Everyone except Evan.

As his Father charms the two men Evan thinks of all that has happened until now.

Of children trapped.

Of how angry they were.

Of how scared they were.

He thinks of himself lying awake at night wondering is he's forgotten anyone like everyone else has.

He looks at the man shaped monster in front of him and thinks about his offer.

Who better to guide him through hell.

During this William has successfully talked down the staff members ( “Its been a while since I've seen my son, he simply said something that startled me”)

He smiles at them until they leave, only to turn back to Evan with it gone a stormy expression on his face.

Before he can say anything Evan interrupts him. “Ok” he says shortly.

Evan gets a brief glimpse of his bewildered expression as he turns and begins to gather his things, there's no further discussion to be had of course.

His Father still tries of course but Evan interrupts him again, still not looking at him as he slings his bag over his shoulder and stands up from the table.

After taking a last couple of seconds to readjust himself he finally looks at his Father.

“You already have my phone number and address right” he asks plainly.

His Father hesitates obviously not wanting to admit to it. But the hesitation is all the confirmation that Evan needs.

“There you go then” he says with a grin before turning on his heel and finally leaving the restaurant behind him.

Evan has a distinct impression that all of this might be a mistake. that he might be taking hands with a creature who will never let him go as they journey into the endless dark together.

Or at the very least its sure to be annoying.

Bu as he strides into the sunlight with his Father angrily calling for him to come back he cant stop a smile from breaking across his face.

5 Weeks later

Evan startles awake again, but luckily without the nausea that had accompanied him last time.

He sits up weakly on his elbows and cast his gaze around his Fathers spare room, its a few hours later at least, with the nights gloom coating everything only startled by light gleaming from behind the shut bedroom door.

There's a bowl of cold chicken broth on the night stand, evidence of his Father having come and gone.

He thinks briefly of getting up and making for the door but despite the late hour he can hear the sounds of his Father moving around the apartment if the light on wasn't enough of an indication.

Besides, exhaustion still coats him like a fungus.

A type of lethargy that's already making it near impossible to keep his eyes open.

Evan lies back down and lets sleep take him once again.

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Animation WIP

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Updated free demo for my game |:<

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#urgay

Manifesting Castorice by doodling pollux

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Love her design!