#hope ya'll enjoyed

[vaya-writes]

Serving the Serpent - 8

Briar owes Lord Isen her life. She works off her debt by serving in his castle. Dealing with the rapidly changing circumstances of her life, she’s not used to anyone paying her much attention. It’s hard when Isen seems set on interacting with her. 

Cis female human with selective mutism x male naga (slow burn, co-workers to lovers, power imbalances, eventual smut). 3200 words. Content warnings for this chapter include allusions to Briar’s cult-like upbringing, brief discussion of grief, some explicit details about Isen's shitty childhood and emotional abuse from his father, discussion of burnout and burnout related illness. Divider from firefly-graphics

The preparation before Briar and Isen tour the Ophidian Lowlands. The pair have some important discussions about work/life balance.

Previous - Masterlist

Isen puts Briar in charge of packing for his trip. Without another servant around giving her explicit instructions, it’s her first independent task as Isen’s aide. There’s not much she can do to mess it up, but she still checks and double checks each of the times on her list. And then sets aside the assembled items for Isen’s approval. It’s not a large task – she's only in charge of organising his clothes and toiletries.  

Surveying the assortment on the table, it occurs to her that she doesn’t know what she’s expected to bring. She clears her throat to get Isen’s attention. 

He’s nose deep in a ledger Dinah had delivered, some business proposal or another. He hums his acknowledgement, eyes flitting up for a second. 

‘What do I pack for myself?’ 

He looks back to his book with a shrug. “A change of clothes. Your coin.” He looks sharply at her, for emphasis. “Wet weather wear.” 

She gestures to her uniform. ‘Is this okay?’ 

He looks her up and down. “You still wear the servant’s garb?” 

She raises her brow. ‘Am I not a servant?’ (Worker. Work person.) 

“No, actually. As my assistant, your station is significantly higher. I’ll put in a request with Lockwood to find you a more appropriate uniform. It’s not necessary that you wear it, but until you have your own clothes-” he trails off. “Sorry I hadn’t done so sooner. I hadn’t paid much attention to your state of dress.” 

It doesn’t bother her. Still, she gives him a stiff little bow. ‘Thank you.’ 

With her task complete, Briar finishes her tidying for the night. Their dinner trays are removed, the fire is stoked, and the bed is turned down. Afterwards, she lingers by the desk. 

‘Is there anything else for me, tonight?’  

It’d be typical for Isen to give her some paperwork to proofread. Instead, he gives her a frown. 

She can’t help but tense, wondering what she’d done wrong. 

“Nothing that needs doing.” 

The way he stares tells her there’s something more.  

He takes a moment to voice his thoughts. “Have you made any friends yet, Legs?” 

She blinks. Straightens. ‘Friends?’ 

His intensity softens, and he gives her an almost bemused smile. “You know. People you spend time with. People you like.” 

Briar considers. It’s not the right answer, but it’s her only answer. ‘I spend time with you. And with Lockwood.’ (Lock, Wood) 

His smile becomes more strained. “What about outside of work?” 

The almost pitying expression makes her bristle. ‘I don’t need friends. I’ve never needed them.’ 

There’s a silence, and Briar wonders if she’d been too sharp with him.  

“What about hobbies. Do you have any of those?” 

Briar tries not to pull a face. She doesn’t understand the question, but can’t help but feel like she’s being judged. ‘What is... what is that?’ 

“A hobby?” 

Nod. 

“Something you do for fun? Or because you otherwise enjoy it?” His smile has faded. 

She tries not to fidget under his intense stare. ‘I... practice my lessons? I enjoy... my food. And my bed.’ (Bed. Place of sleep.) 

Isen is pulling a face like he’s sucked on a lemon and is trying very hard not to show it. “Okay. Is that all?” 

Briar gives him a weak smile.  

There’s another silence before Isen lets out a breath, and his smile disappears entirely. ‘Briar,’ he signs for emphasis, before speaking the rest of his concern. “I don’t suppose anyone has ever spoken to you about your work/life balance?” 

She shakes her head. It’s starting to look more and more like she is in trouble. ‘I don’t know what that is.’ 

Isen winces. “Yeah, I figured. Look, if you ever want to take some time off, you can. You just need to go to Lockwood and organise it. He’ll make sure you still get paid. He’s also who you talk to if you need a sick day.” 

His words sound familiar. It reminds her of something the dark elf himself had said on her first day here. She hadn’t quite believed him. Hadn’t paid attention to his words. At the time she’d been more focused on the change in her situation; her newly acquired debt.  

Still, the seriousness of Isen’s tone makes her blanch. She can’t help but feel defensive. ‘I don’t need to take time off.’ 

Isen reaches across the table. He catches her by the hand, and she’s so surprised that she lets him hold it. 

“But don’t you want to?” 

She pulls back, shaking her head. ‘We didn’t do that at New Haven.’ 

He leans forward, intense again. “Yes. But didn’t you want to?” 

Helplessly, Briar shakes her head, dropping her eyes. 

“Really. You can’t think of a single time where you wanted to stay in bed. When you didn’t want to cook or clean, or do things for everyone else. When you just wanted to be alone for the day.” 

There’s a shadow creeping up in her mind. A memory of grief, of pain. She’s swift to shut it down, to scowl at Isen. ‘I don’t want to talk about this anymore.’ 

He pauses. Straightens. She hadn’t noticed how close he’d been leaning. “Okay. I just... okay.” 

The silence now is less intense. More awkward.  

Isen gestures to his shelf. “I don’t have anything else for you to do tonight. But you’re welcome look at my books. Help yourself to my collection. There’re a few shelves in the third-floor lounge, too.” 

Briar wants to turn him down immediately. But she makes herself be polite. Forces a smile, and shakes her head. ‘I’m tired. I think I’ll sleep.’ 

His expression is gentle once more. “Alright. But the offer still holds. Any time, Legs. Have a browse. Maybe you’ll find something you like.”  

--- 

Briar is tight with tension the next day. She trusts that Isen won’t push most of her boundaries. That if she draws a line in the sand, he’ll be respectful about it. Still, she can’t help but wait for some form of retribution. Some punishment for refusing to talk to him. An expression of displeasure that she’d left early. 

It doesn’t help that he’s distracted. Contemplative, even, when he looks at her from time to time. He smiles and thanks her for her work, but doesn’t ask to dine together. He doesn’t prod for conversation, or make any of his usual jokes.  

She’s torn between relief and anxiety. Enough so that Lockwood cuts her lesson short. She’s unfocused. Making needless mistakes. He dismisses her, tells her to clear her head. 

She doesn’t. She takes up her lessons in her room instead, until it’s time to tend to Isen once more. She serves his dinner, and this time he invites Briar to dine with him. The meal is uncharacteristically silent, until Isen sits back, finished eating, to examine Briar. 

The food suddenly tastes like ash, and she has to fight not to fidget. 

Finally, she works up the nerve to look him in the eye. ‘Yes?’ 

Isen looks away. Works his jaw while he resolves to speak. 

“My father had high expectations of me, when I was a child.” 

She can’t help but straighten. 

“Starlen was... a hands-on learner. He wasn’t the academic type, so he was pushed into soldiering. Kylet was... well Kylet was Kylet. But Zyla and I were... talented, I guess you could say. Bright. Skilled. Enough so that my father decided he had to hone our abilities. 

“We were tutored every day. By the time I was six, I could recite world history, play three instruments, speak five languages. By the time I was twelve, I was observing council meetings, doing assignments on trade and commerce, intimately familiar with Isle law. 

“I worked until I was sick. And then I kept working. In an unending effort to impress my father, to outdo my sister, to do my duty as a Kovit...” Isen swallows. “She might be my biggest rival, but she also saved me. Zyla got me out. Persuaded father into sending me away. Into giving me a territory to rule. 

“I... I probably spent a year in bed. I don’t like to think about it. To talk about it. But suffice to say, I’m very familiar with the effects of burnout. I know what it’s like to be raised... like that. To be told that you aren’t allowed to take a break, you don’t need it, don’t deserve it, that wanting it is a luxury you can’t afford-” he cuts off. Takes a breath and lets it out slowly. 

“I want to apologise for lecturing you about your work/life balance. When you’re brought up in an environment like that... I can empathise, that you might be dissuaded by the thought of taking time for yourself.” 

He peters into silence. His face is drawn, almost pained. 

Briar shifts, uncomfortable. Even she can recognise that Isen had just shared something incredibly personal. How is she meant to react to that? 

Staring down at her dinner, she lets out a long sigh. She supposes there is only one thing she can do. 

‘I wanted to stay in bed.’ 

Isen refocuses, watching her carefully. 

‘The day my Aunt died. I wanted- I wanted to be alone.’ 

She hasn’t taught Isen the word for death, but he understands. “I’m sorry for your loss.” 

She shrugs. Nods. Stands and collects his tray. She doesn’t want to talk about it. Will probably never want to. But it’s all she has to give, really. Those pieces of herself that she’d never shared. If Isen can share his truth with her, she figures she can do the same back. If only the once. 

---

She’s worried that things will change. That there’ll be a sombre air over their meetings, or that she’d be expected to share more. But Isen is back to his usual self the next morning. In fact he’s giddy with excitement, already awake and dressed when Briar arrives. 

“Guess what Lockwood delivered this morning.” 

She turns away before he can see her nose crinkle. It’s too early for games.  

‘Paperwork.’ 

Isen grimaces. “Okay, yes, but guess what else.” 

She focuses instead on making his bed, quirking her brow in question. 

He rolls his eyes. “Fine, be a buzzkill. Your clothes are here.” 

Her attention does catch at that. 

‘So soon?’ 

Isen lets out a noncommittal hum, suddenly very interested in the package on his desk. 

Taking the hint, she approaches. He pushes the bundle towards her, twirling a strand of his hair while she unties it. She’d scoff if he weren’t her superior– she doesn’t know if she’s seen him look nervous before. 

Before she unfolds the fabric, he sticks his hand over it. “Okay, well, this is what Lockwood could get on short notice. He had two days to come up with this. That’s no time to get something imported or made. I apologise in advance for the quality. I just wanted to make sure you had something to wear on our tour. Yes?” 

Briar looks at Isen, brow raised again. ‘Yes.’ 

Looking unconvinced of himself, Isen withdraws his hand. Gestures that she continue.  

Briar stares at Isen as she does, for once enjoying the way he squirms. She barely glances at the outfit she unfolds, overtly enjoying his embarrassment.  

“Stop,” he turns his face away. “You’re not funny.” 

‘That doesn’t stop you,’ she says. 

He doesn’t react to her jab, but she still stiffens. Looks down sharply, eyes wide, in realisation that she’d just insulted her boss aloud. 

There’s a long silence. Eventually Isen breaks it, sounding almost breathless. “Don’t keep me in suspense. What do you think?” 

She blinks. He hadn’t even registered her retort. Was focused instead on the outfit she’d been staring unseeing at. 

She grasps the shirt by the shoulders, holding it up to the light. It’s a collared button up, starched and stiff, but neat. Beneath it sits a pair of trousers, which Briar regards with suspicion. She picks up the trousers, testing the stiff fabric, lifting them to check their length. 

Isen is staring, an air of forced neutrality belaying his anxiety. He raises his brow when Briar meets his gaze.  

‘I’ve never worn trousers before.’ (Trousers. Legs. This.) 

He blinks. “Never?” 

She shakes her head. 

He frowns. “If the clothes aren’t suitable, we can find something else.” 

Briar eyes the outfit wearily. The Pilgrims had a thing about modesty, and revealing the shape of one’s legs would definitely be toing the line. While Briar personally doesn’t see an issue with pants, the idea of wearing them still makes her uncomfortable.  

Isen takes her silence for disapproval, “I’ll let Lockwood know immediately. We should still have time to get you something else-” 

She shakes her head. ‘Wait.’ 

He does. 

She takes another minute to process. Struggles to identify the source of that discomfort.  

And then, ‘I’m allowed to wear these?’ 

“You’re allowed to,” he deciphers, before, “Oh. Yes. You’re allowed to wear them.” 

She nods. Cautious, but open. ‘I won’t get in trouble?’ 

Understanding lights in Isen’s eyes. But he doesn’t comment on the revelation. Instead, he gives Briar a soft smile. “No. You won’t get in trouble.” 

She can’t help but frown. “Do you promise?” (Promise. Agree. Ensure.) 

“Yes. I promise.” 

Briar lets out a sigh. Pulls the clothes closer to her. Despite Isen’s assurances, she’s still not sold. ‘Will people stare?’ 

He keeps his soothing tone. “If they stare, it won’t be because of your pants. It will be because you’re human. Or because you’re with me. Okay?” 

She dithers some more. There’s not much left to consider, if she’s being honest. She just needs time to persuade herself to accept them. To become more used to the idea.  

She nods. ‘Okay.’ 

His face splits into a wider smile. “Yes?” 

She rolls her eyes at his enthusiasm. ‘Yes.’ 

"Excellent,” Isen leans back. “We’ve placed an order with the tailor to make you more uniforms. They won’t arrive for another week or so, but I’m looking forward to showing you the different styles we’re having made.” 

She looks over the outfit again. Isen had made it seem like any outfit procured on short notice would be terrible. Perhaps they aren't very stylish. And the fabric will be dry and scratchy against her skin; heavy even. But they’re still undoubtedly the nicest clothes Briar has owned. The cloth is tightly spun. The fabric is sturdy. The colouring is even. They look nice. Professional. She wonders if that’s why they’d been chosen for her. 

“Now that that’s done with, Arol is coming by soon. He wants to discuss the route we’re taking.” His demeanour shifts, “Even if it’s the same one we take every year...” He brightens after a second. “Do you have a moment?” 

She hadn’t served breakfast yet, but if Isen wants to delay, it’s within his right. She shrugs in reply. 

He gestures her closer to the desk, circling it to stand next to her, spinning some parchment around for her to see. “Has Lockwood taught you to read a map yet?” 

Briar shakes her head, shifting away minutely.  

Isen gives her a smile. “The larger labels on the map tend to represent larger things. Like this one,” he points to the header. “It’s not over any piece of the map, so you can assume it’s the name of the whole area.” 

Briar squints at the title, sounding out the letters silently, before widening her eyes. ‘Ophidian Lowlands?’ (snake and lizard, low land, here?) 

He nods. “Sure is. And dots tend to represent settlements.” 

There are five on the map. One is larger than the rest. Once again Briar takes her time sounding out the word. She smiles at the revelation. ‘Riversreach.’ (River, reach, here) 

“Yes. Well done. Do you understand the rest of what you’re looking at?” 

Briar eyes the swirls and lines of ink doubtfully. She shakes her head. 

Isen gives her a patient smile. He points to a star in one corner of the map. “This is a compass. It tells us which way is north.” 

It takes her a moment before she nods her understanding. There weren’t many compasses in New Haven. People never travelled far. But knowing cardinal direction had also taught her which way to expect the sun to rise and set. 

“And this,” he moves close, brushing her arm as he reaches across her to point at the other corner of the map, “is not part of the landscape either.” 

She stiffens at his proximity. Has to resist the urge to shuffle away. 

“It’s called a key. Or a legend. Not all maps have them, but they explain what the other symbols on the map mean.” He stops reaching across, the offending arm instead coming to rest lightly against her back. 

She has to fight to pay attention, his words fading into the background as she fixates on his touch, frozen and unsure how she is supposed to respond. 

“Usually, they tell the difference between roads, boarders, water ways, and so on, but we don’t have many of those in the Lowlands. This one focuses on terrain.” 

Briar stares blankly, expecting the touch to become harder, or creep along her skin. But his hand stays gently at her back. 

“- marsh, forest, cliffs, river,” 

Nothing happens. He doesn't try to flirt or do anything inappropriate. Perhaps not to his standards anyway.  

Briar swallows, refocusing her attention on the map, trying to process his words. Key. Terrain. Hands. 

She scowls at herself, trying not to let her thoughts wander. She doesn’t even notice how flushed she’s becoming. 

Finally, Isen straightens, his touch leaving her as he falls into silence. “And there you have it. Any questions?” 

Briar stares at the map, long and hard, rushing to process what’s in front of her, to come up with any potential questions.  

The only one that does come to her is not very useful. It’s probably inappropriate to ask her boss ‘Hey, what the fuck was that?’ 

She shakes her head. 

Isen smiles and moves back around to his side of the desk. “Excellent. Shall I show you our planned route for the tour?” 

She’s grateful for the space, if a little surprised at the sudden cold that comes with the distance.  

Briar forces her attention towards the path that Isen traces across the map, his fingers stopping at the other settlements. He’s gentle, taking care not to mark the map. She wonders how it’d feel if he traced the same patterns across her back. Or over her hand. 

She scowls, wondering if there’s something wrong with her. She’d never had the desire to be touched before. Why on earth was she experiencing it now? 

“Are you okay? Am I going too fast?” 

Yes! she thinks, before realising he’s talking about the map again.  

She glances up at Isen, trying to keep the guilt from her features. ‘Sorry. I was distracted.’ 

He smiles. “It’s okay. We can go over it again.” 

‘Thank you.’ She takes a breath, grateful for his patience. ‘You said we’ll go North?’ 

Isen turns his attention back to the map. “That’s right. We’ll need to leave early enough to catch the tide-” 

She absorbs more of the information this time. Even if she still finds herself distracted. 

Next

[thefact0rygirl]

Yo are those Russian painkillers still available?^^ no but seriously. Are feeling better? Trip over?

lmfaoooo trip over but i still have a dull headache 😭

but ya'll

i asked my mom what it was and her response was, "wait. which one did you take? what do you mean you don't remember? why do you just take pills without questioning it???"

💀💀💀 because i didn't meet you at a party, mom

[dotflare]

heya! I've finished the Employee's model you can get it for free here

additional renders n stuff in here

Enjoy and please mention me with any art you make :)

[waokevale]

Not so Different – Comic by me (WaokeVale!)

I've had this idea for months! (Since November, to be exact) and now I've finally had the time to complete it....(mostly)

I hope you enjoy this FAMILIAL bit with these two, some bits of angst here and there.

And if ANYONE interprets this as anything other than Familial/Platonic, I will maul you alive. 😀

(Btw seperate versions of the glitched part at the end)

[bluesfreakingart]

I immediately go and throw myself into the nearest gotham sewer to wrestle Killer Croc WITH MY BARE HANDS bc THE ENERGY I PUT INTO THIS AUGHGHG

[secriden]

love sea episode 2 rewatch thoughts:

in hindsight, this opening should've clued us in that this episode was going to be horny as fuck.

ok so if episode 1 was about establishing mahasamut, i think the purpose of episode 2 is really to give us a much more nuanced introduction to tongrak. what's fascinating is that the show chooses to impart this insight to us through a rather unusual medium: sex (and, specifically, tongrak's attitude about sex).

we open with kinky kinky beach sex and it tells us that tongrak is impulsive, hedonistic, and tends to give into the emotions of the moment (something that, as the series develops, he does with increasingly self-sabotaging results; eg. when he lashes out at mahasamut after the 1st run in with prin or when he runs off to appease jak when he gets fearful in episode 9).

it also tells us that tongrak is very comfortable with his physical wants and needs. sure, mahasamut kinda flusters him because he awakens desires that are more intense than he's is used to, but tongrak's still grounded enough in his sense of self that he can roll with it pretty quickly and becomes an active, willing, even enthusiastic participant. (it's not going to be his physical desire that drives a wedge between them; its going to be the emotional connection that ends up being terrifying to tongrak.)

this episode also lays a ton of groundwork to set up why and how intensely mahasamut and tongrak are drawn to each other.

a lot of it, early on, is purely physical.

mahasamut and tongrak clock that they're compatible in their (D/s) kink immediately and they embrace this with gleeful abandonment. other people have made this point a lot more clearly than i could ever hope to (see @williamrikers excellent analysis of mutrak's kink dynamic), so i won't belabour the point, but i would like to point out how thoroughly the show wants the audience to know that these two are a perfect match physically and sexually (specifically with their particular kinks) and that they are incredibly comfortable with that.

(an aside: one thing i adore about peat's portrayal of tongrak's submissiveness in the beach scene is the way he starts out being the initiator in the kiss - in the gif above, it's tongrak that grabs mahasamut and yanks him into the kiss at first - but once its clear that mahasamut is on board, tongrak is almost constantly angled up, head tipped back, responding to mahasamut's cues but making no attempt to direct whats happening. there's so much surrender in the pliant way peat holds himself as they kiss and the way he goes from pulling mahasamut into the kiss to just clinging to his torso as he lets mahasamut take control. even when he reaches for mahasamut's dick, the second mahasamut pins him down and gives him an instruction, tongrak makes no attempt to redirect and just goes with what mahasamut wants. there's just such great detail in this portrayal of surrender.)

but what makes this encounter different (from the many, many other ones they've both had) is going to be how neither of them were able to keep this connection as purely physical for very long. (this is what episode 3 is for, though, so lets put a pin in that thought.)

back to insights into tongrak's character: we also get an escalation/confirmation about how tongrak views sex (and relationships) as purely transactional. tongrak's entire backstory is grounded in the idea that 'everybody has a price' because that's what his parents showed him. to tongrak, every human interaction is about finding the right things to give (usually money in his case) to get what he wants and this has allowed him to rationalise that feelings and emotions (both his own/the other person's) don't matter.

tongrak firmly believes that as long as he's offering something of sufficient (monetary) value, he's perfectly within rights to demand what he wants without consulting mahasamut's feelings, wants, or thoughts about the matter. in fact, he thinks of mahasamut as kind of an object for his sexual gratification and/or convenience. this is why he feels no remorse about kicking mahasamut out after they have sex even though mahasamut clearly wants to cuddle/come down from the physical high together. the next morning, it never pings to him that he should be guilty about how he treated mahasamut.

(look at his face. he's such an entitled diva. i love him so much.)

not only is this attitude - in reality - a very inaccurate way to view human beings (because as a species we are creatures very much led by our emotions), but it is the source of tongrak's own dissatisfaction and unhappiness. he never acknowledges any of his own emotional needs and so cannot manage or address them in a meaningful or healthy way.

so to summarise tongrak understands and is comfortable with his physical desires but does not know how to even acknowledge his emotional ones whilst impulsively being led by them in the heat of the moment: already we can see that this is a recipe for disaster and tells an unspoken story of pain and trauma.

(i also want to mention how well mahasamut continues to respond to tongrak's specific brand of caustic entitlement. he doesn't bother making a big deal about tongrak throwing money at him, but he also never names a price for his 'services' either. he blatantly refers to tongrak as his "owner" but also makes it clear that it's not tongrak's money that's keeping him around, but rather mahasamut's own desire for tongrak. it's like he'll act in tongrak's play but he won't quite stick to the script either. its so, so effective because he doesn't trigger tongrak's fight or flight response but he's still undermining and proving tongrak's assumptions wrong at every turn. this is what allows mahasamut to worm his way behind tongrak's walls whilst simultaneously chipping away at them.)

one last little bit of (this time non-sex-adjacent) insight into tongrak: he has a great capacity for compassion. (which will, eventually, turn into love.)

mahasamut, at this point, is mostly just an incredible lay to tongrak. but already he shows care and concern for mahasamut that's separate from what he can offer tongrak. he's concerned at a (relatively minor) hint that mahasamut has been mistreated in the past and then again concerned that mahasamut will suffer the repercussions of any hit to his reputation. [note: this is informed by a backstory regarding homophobia on the island that's from Khom/Connor's story in Love Sand, but even without that insight we can see tongrak's concern is for mahasamut.] (again, this is something the show is setting up to callback to later when tongrak gets offended on mahasamut's behalf when he thinks the waiter made fun of mahasamut.)

these little glimpses give us such a contrasting perspective on tongrak compared to episode 1, where he was mostly just a rich, entitled, and fairly unlikable character. we're being shown that what we've seen so far is really a mask as tongrak's true character slowly starts bleeding through as he has more interactions with mahasamut.

and then the episode closes on heartbreak: You're aware aren't you? Love is just a figment of our imagination.

tongrak's expression right before he says this is filled with resignation and disappointment. he hates that he has to say it but he feels its his duty to burst mahasamut's bubble. he genuinely believes this and so to him he's just doing mahasamut a favour by telling him a Truth about life. for us, this is the final crack in the mask and we see just how lost and fragile and hurt tongrak truly is.

(and the way peat sells this part - the cold almost clinical look in his eyes when he says the line. the tiny pout of his lips like tongrak can't help but feel sad about it, even though he accepts it as reality. the cold, flat tone peat uses to deliver the line when tongrak's usually quite expressive and uses lots of inflections and intonations in his speech. ugh <3)

but this is also really important because this is why we, the audience, start to care about tongrak. mame takes us on this journey, sets us up to wonder why tongrak's the main character when he starts out kinda of awful and then shifts the ground out from under us by showing us his soft, wounded underbelly. we can't help but want him to be loved, now, and this is why we become invested in 'tongrak mahasamut'.

[inspectorcrayon]

[ladyfuxuan]

"Oh hey there, partner."

[tumblmon]

Cassette Beasts unofficial card game master folder is here!

Very excited to share this game with you all and I hope you have fun!

[mothwingwritings]

Ma'am can we please have some general sfw/nsfw Jun Guevara hcs we're starving

On my knees begging he's such a menace to society and your writing's so good

Call me meals on wheels how I be feeding the masses. (⌐⎚u⎚)

Heh heh heh, I have been meaning to try and write more Jun goodness. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ Thank you for providing the opportunity and thank you for your kind words!!!

I hope I did our beautiful boy Jun some justice with this one! NSFW at the end, so 18+ only please!

This man is one of the world’s biggest show offs, ESPECIALLY in your presence. The moment he hears your voice or spots you across the room, he starts posturing. Gloating about his various achievements, flexing and showing off his body whenever you pass by, dropping names of famous people he knows or exotic places he’s been, anything to try and get a rise out of you or to get you fawning. The man is not shy about singing his praises in a multitude of ways to paint himself as the ideal man for you.

If he has to spend any time away from you for any reason, all of his free time is going to go towards contacting you. Texts, phone calls, video chats-there is nothing that boosts his spirits like hearing your voice and seeing your face. Even just a simple text from you saying ‘good morning’ is enough to send him over the moon. Expect a rambling paragraph response back to any message you may send, littered with romantic prose while simultaneously begging you to send him pics (either lewd or just a normal selfie, doesn’t matter to him as long as he gets to see your pretty face/body).

He’s got a plethora of nicknames for you, ranging from sweet and loving to downright obscene. He loves seeing you blush and squirm, so he’s more apt to use the raunchy ones in public.

Despite his big ego and penchant for inappropriate flirting, he is a huge romantic. You are his one and only, his soul mate, and the thought of spending the rest of his life with you by his side never fails to fill him with butterflies. Nothing fills him with joy quite like waking up with you each morning and falling asleep with you each night. His most peaceful moments are when you are tucked in by his side, sleeping soundly under his protection.

He’s a rather jealous person, so he always gets grumpy when you aren’t giving him your full attention. If you so much as glance at your phone while on a date he gets moody, and isn’t above taking any electronic devices you may have away from you and stashing them out of your reach until you have to part ways with him. If it’s another physical person you are giving your attention too, he will become insufferably rude/standoffish to them until they either get the picture and leave on their own, or you are so mortified by the encounter you leave yourself, dragging Jun with you.

Family is very important to him, and he is extremely eager to bring you into his family’s fold. It didn’t take long in your relationship for you to become acquainted with both his close and extended family, and though you were nervous as hell to meet them all so soon, they accepted you with open arms and put you at ease upon your initial meeting. They were quick to usher you into their home, provide you with a warm meal, relay story after embarrassing story of Jun in his youth. If you are someone who doesn’t have a family/has a bad relationship with your family, all that changes now as you have been fully adopted into the Guevera home, his family quickly becoming your own. Otherwise he’s just as eager and adamant to meet your family, and will invite them to every Guevera family gathering in the future. Just prepare yourself for the onslaught of ‘when can we expect a grandchild?’ questions to roll in, and that all of them will be responded with ‘We’ve been hard at work, so as soon as possible’ or something similarly suggestive by Jun.

He has a tendency to be SUPER pouty. If you get into a disagreement or spat, even with how much he loves you, he wants to be the one who comes out on top. If you prove him wrong in an argument, any sense of victory you may feel is going to be overshadowed by how damn whiny he is going to be over the next several hours. It can get so annoying that sometimes you give in and apologize, even though you did nothing wrong, just to get him to shut up. Regardless of if you concede to him or not, he is super clingy during the whole ordeal, wanting you to shower him in affection and attention as a means to ‘apologize to him for being mean to him.’ (He is an incorrigible brat. ^^;)

Sometimes Jun will just stop and stare at you for elongated amounts of time. At first it unnerved you a bit, unsure of what caused him to halt what he was doing and just… Look at you. When you finally worked up the courage and asked him why he would sometimes look at you so intensely, he simply explained that he often gets so caught up in your beauty that he can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from you. From that day forward you can’t help but blush bright red when you catch him doing it, which in turn always makes him produce a devilish smirk.

Though he lives to make you a blushing, stuttering mess, you also have the power to fluster him as well. Whenever you earnestly express your love for him, or go out of your way to show him you care, he turns into a flushed, mushy mess. He catches himself pretty quickly, but you always savor the moments when he slips and loses his macho façade, finding ruffled Jun quite endearing and cute.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!!!

As stated before, family is a top priority for him, and he is obsessed with the idea of making a huge family with you. This man has the biggest breeding kink, and any kind of love making he does never stops at one round. He needs to make sure he pumps you nice and full, eager to realize his dreams of a huge family ASAP. He practically salivates over the thought of how you will look stuffed with his children, thinking of how hot you’ll look round and full making him that much hornier and work that much harder to impregnate you.

He has an extremely hard time containing himself, and if you tease him in anyway (whether it be with sexy clothing, coy flirtations, or potentially just something you are doing unwittingly) he can and will take you right then and there. Who is he to deny himself the pleasure of you, when you so boldly flaunt your sex appeal before him? If you are in public he (usually) has the decency to pull you somewhere more private before he begins his assault, but he doesn’t do anything to try and muffle or hide what he is doing with you. In fact, he takes pleasure from knowing you may be caught or heard-people should be aware of how good he is at pleasuring his woman and be jealous of the fact that he can have you anytime he desires, and they never will. The ONLY time he shows any restraint is if children are present, but even then it doesn’t take long for him to shoo them away so that he can have his way with you without the fear of scarring any innocent minds.

Despite the thrill he may get over people potentially walking in on/hearing you two making love, he is EXTREMELY possessive and gets majorly pissed off if anyone other than him sees you in a compromising position, or ogles you for too long. He’s the kind of man that will make you wear an oversized tee and board shorts to the beach just to keep wandering eyes from lingering on you too long. Your body, wanton expressions, and your sultry moans-they are for him and him only. If someone else did manage to catch you two in the act he will hunt them down later and beat their ass, accident or not. The only exception would be if it was someone he trusted, but even then they are on VERY thin ice.

He likes to film his sexual encounters with you, and loves even more to make you watch them with him afterwards. Even if it embarrasses the hell out of you, he thinks it’s completely unfair that you don’t get to see how goddamn sexy you look when he’s plowing into you, and insists on sharing the experience. He happily narrates the whole thing to you as he holds you perched on his lap, rewinding his favorite moments to he can play them again and again for you. He’ll almost always touch you while the video plays, doing his best to coax the same noises and reactions from you as you are doing in the video. These viewings of course also lead to more sex, as there is no way in hell he isn’t hard as a rock once he’s done viewing it.

Jun is very perceptive of your mood and can always tell when you are in a self-conscious rut. He can’t stand when you demean yourself and gets agitated when you tear yourself apart over your appearance. Don’t you realize how fucking beautiful you are??? Don’t you see that you are literal perfection??? Well, if not, he’s just going to have to show you, isn’t he? He will take his time worshiping every inch of you, giving extra care to the parts of your body you are comfortable with. Every part of you is flawless, and if you have trouble seeing that on your own he has no qualms over helping you realize this. As long as it takes, he won’t stop lavishing you until you yield to him and realize just how incredible you are.

As much as he loves watching you when you are making love, he loves holding you during the experience even more. His favorite positions are the ones where you are a close, intertwined mess of limbs and carnal desire. He wants to feel you in your entirety, and there is no such thing as close enough as far as Jun is concerned.  When you are pressed against him you can feel each other’s heartbeat, and it’s easier for him to whisper in your ear about how much he loves you, tell you how fucking unbelievably good you feel. He is absolutely obsessed with you in every way, and he’ll keep you as close as he can for as long as possible, savoring the unity he feels with you beside him. You are half of his soul, and he feels incomplete otherwise.

[cleminthewriter]

This time Dad says it's my turn on the writing

A/N: ok so context, I have a little theory that Alex and Winfrey are related, and this is me turning it into an au. It might be a bit cringe but I hope y'all enjoy.

TW for some ableist language after “Dad, please, Alex really liked the pair when we went to the eye doctor today-” and "And the only response they’d get to defending themself was:", it's nothing too bad I think, but just wanna mention that as a just in case

-------------

Winfrey knew. Of course they knew. Everything about them gave it away.

The dark green eyes that reminded them of oak trees.

“Daddy! Daddy! Can we go to the park today? I really wanna try and get to the top of the big oak today!”

“Sure Al, just let Daddy finish writing this lesson real quick, alright? You can get your shoes on in the meantime.” 

“Yay, Thank you Thank you Thank you!”

“Woah, haha, Careful- and they're already gone.” a sigh “Tell Your Grandparents We’re Leaving!”

“OK!”

The long brown hair that went all the way to their shoulders.

“Alex, I am so sorry. I thought your hair would have been fine.”

“It’s Not Fair! Why’d They Cut It!”

“The dress codes says-”

“Says Baloney!”

A stifled laugh.

“I should get to have my hair how I want it! Daddy, you're an adult, they’ll listen to you. Tell Them!”

“... oh honey, they… won’t.”

“Why Not?!?”

“... same reason I missed Christmas last year.”

Those round glasses with the green frame that made their eyes look slightly bigger.

“Winfrey, why the hell would you need 55 dollars for a pair of glasses.”

“Dad, please, Alex really liked the pair when we went to the eye doctor today-”

“Tell ‘em no! Your already in enough debt from your little freakout-”

“And You Want Me To Explain That To A FUCKING Six Year Old!?!” Silence, while breathing.

“Dad I promise to tell Alex you paid for them and I promise to pay you back, just… please. Alex needs glasses and I want to make sure they get a good pair. I won’t ask you for anything else after this. Just do it for your grandkid.”

“...fine. But I expect the money to be spent ON the glasses.” 

“They will be, Dad, I promise.”

The way their hand trembled while holding that… strange device with the flashing light.

Loud, Intense crying.

“Al, look, there’s no monster outside. It was just some trees. It’s ok.”

“But- but- It was scary! It was prob-prob-bably gonna eat me!”

“Alex, look at me, just for a moment. … that's it, look at you, you brave little guy. Now, listen to me: Monsters aren’t real. Just little images us creatives come with from time to time. Nobody’s out there planning to eat you up. Just the pines right there.”

“You- You promise Dad-Daddy?”

“Yeah I promise Alex.” A hug. “... I will say one monster exists. It's called THE TICKLE MONSTER!”

“Ahhahahahahhaha DAAAAADDYYYY!”

Oh… how so much had changed in the last twenty or so years, yet so much was the same. It was still their (or well the human who they had consumed but they were mostly the same person now) little one. Who they had spent the last six years of their human life caring for. Who they only thought of as they spent quite a bit of those six years here in this damned asylum. Who had been the only person they left the maternity ward with before they inevitably had to plan the funeral of their first love. 

Their Alex.

(who notably carried some scent of their partner. Not intense enough to have been Clyde wearing their skin, but enough to tell Alex had been around it frequently. They internally prayed to Six their child had not taken Clyde as well as them.)

It was a moment where they had seemed to have lost the voice of that first human victim, substituting it with a “Help me” from a patient they had consumed some memories with Alex from sometime ago. Alex had always been one to help others in need.

However, before Alex could say anything, that Dreaded man grabbed their attention.

“Daddy, when will you be back?”

“Just another week Al, just another week. Once I’m out, we’ll do all sorts of fun things together. I’ll play you the violin, I’ll get us ice cream with three scoops, i’ll even see about getting you that cat you’ve been wanting.”

“Black with yellow eyes?”

“Yes black with yellow-”

“Mr. Williams, your time is up. Best to get back to your… therapy.”

“Just a bit more time, we just need to-”

“No Mr. Williams, your child must leave now.”

“Just A Bit-”

Winfrey watched as the Doctor sent Alex away again, this time not even allowing for a conversation at all. And as he shut those doors, as he turned his head back to them with that horrid smile, Winfrey knew another thing:

Lankmann knew as well.

—

Alex slammed their bedroom door shut. So What! They bleached a section of their hair blonde, not a huge deal! Unlike Stacy, they didn’t make their hair fall out. So why the hell was Grandpa so annoyed by it?!? They were sixteen, they could do whatever the hell they wanted!

Alex fell onto their bed and screamed into their pillow. Ever since Grandma died back in August, he’s been on their back over everything! No matter what they said or asked, it was always the wrong thing! And the only response they’d get to defending themself was:

“Careful Alexander, you're becoming your father.”

Which would make Alex completely annoyed. Without Grandma there to smack him on the head and cry “Benedict!”, he could say it as much as he wanted. Elementary and Middle School were bad enough with the fear and bullying over their father’s mental health and disappearance, but at least by High School it had frizzled out and Alex could finally make some real friends. With Grandpa, he could never let it go! It pissed them off so bad. Maybe their dad wasn’t the most healthy mentally, but they were good to them and grandpa should stop acting like they weren’t!

Alex let out a final groan as they looked at their clock and- oh it was already 8:30. Alex had plans to go to a party at Sean’s, and Rick confirmed that the cute girl from chem was gonna be there. Sure, Gramps may have “Grounded” them, but they had made it to the top of the oak tree with and without dad’s help. Leaving out the window and climbing down a two story house was easy.

Alex got up from the bed and went to their closet. 

But… something outside the window caught their eye.

Memories of their dad comforting them from some trees blowing a bit too hard outside flooded their brain. “Little images us creatives come with from time to time”, they could hear their dad whispering to their crying six year old self. It had been years since then, and by now Alex knows monsters aren’t real (Until this would later be proven false when they’d come home from college for a bit to plan Grandpa’s funeral in Fall ‘86. What started as a fun get together with some old high school buddies on halloween ended with being interviewed by the local news about six missing kids and later on getting a job offer as an archivist for The Lankmann Foundation as protection from the “Veldigun”. Well, that benefit of the job would be thrown away as they’d proceed to feed the veldigun that ate said six kids), but yet Alex couldn’t help but wonder…

Were the eyes always in those trees?

[familyoffood]

🩸Fixing a Radio (RadioSnake fanfic)🩸

🩸warnings: mentioned blood🩸

“Well according to the-”

*STATIC!!*

“That is correct, it must be-”

*ZIPPY ZAP!!*

“You can say that-”

*CRACK!!*

What the hell?  Why was Alastor’s radio making those sounds?  Sir Pentious had been transporting his tools from the downstairs to his room when he heard a strange sound from Alastor’s room.  In the room, besides the usual deer hides on the walls, bloody paintings, and a large bed.  A singular table stood in the middle of the room, holding upon it a radio.  The radio was talking like it usually did, except…it kept on glitching very well…dramatically.  

“Hm…it musssst be broken,” Sir Pentious hissed, approaching the radio with his toolbox in hand.  

It looked pretty battered up, covered in dust and dirt, dried blood, along with a few dents in it.  The noises were coming from the fence-like laid wires that had a hole in it.  Pentious was well…surprised that the radio was so badly damaged.  He placed his tool box down next to the table and opened it, turning to the radio while holding a screwdriver.

(A bit later)

Alastor hummed to himself as he walked down the hall, which was past his room.  His ears turned though to pick up the sound of banging in his room, only for him to turn to see the one and only Sir Pentious in the room.  Pentious was doing well…something to the radio, Alastor wasn’t sure what though.  Was he working for the Vees still?  Oh that dumb little TV headed man…thinking that he could sneak information from Alastor..again.  Sir Pentious hadn’t noticed Alastor until he was practically on top of him and his voice rang out, “Well, hello there my dear!”

Pentious almost dropped the tool that he was holding, flinching and turning around to see Alastor gazing at him, basically face to face.  Alastor narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, as if examining Sir Pentious for anything out of the ordinary.  Alastor’s head made a snap sound when it turned, as if something had popped back into place or out of it.

“A-alassstor!  I-I was just uh-  Well you see-  I’ll start from the beginning!  This morning I woke up and- no no, too far back-  I was walking down the hallways of the hotel and I couldn’t but uh notice you're beaten up- I mean FANTASTIC radio needed some help- a-assistance!” Pentious began to explain, tripping over his own words such as tripping over a rope on the ground.

Alastor couldn’t pay attention to what the snake demon was saying, and instead…he turned and looked at the radio, moving around Pentious to examine it.  Oh wow!  It was almost brand new, just like how you would see it on picture shows.  Alastor listened to how it played a normal broadcast, it did not glitch or crack like it had been!  

“Well, did you do this?” Alastor gestured to the radio with his staff, extending his plastering smile.

“U-um…yes?” Sir Pentious was confused and a bit worried still, twiddling his thumbs as he waited.

“Oh my!  Seems like I misjudged you my dear friend!” Alastor smiled, his voice filled with genuine delight rather than anger or sarcasm.

…huh?

Now Sir Pentious was even more confused, yet picked up his tool box and smiled at Alastor, “Y-you’re welcome Sir!”

He walked out of the room, leaving Alastor to marvel at how beautiful that slithering being had made his radio.  Alastor thought to himself for a moment, resting his finger on his chin.  Sir Pentious was always talked down to by everyone, even Charlie did it on occasion when Pentious was just trying to prove his worth.  He smiled more though as he had a thought.  With a swish of his staff, a small shadow minion appeared, almost giving a cat-like appearance as it gazed up at Alastor.

“My small minion, I need you to follow that slithering friend of ours.  Don’t let yourself be seen and stay in his shadow,” Alastor’s sharp yellow teeth almost glowed as he thought to himself.

The minion nodded, melting into a shadow on the floor and following where the snake demon had disappeared off to.  Gazing at the radio…Alastor felt something…maybe it was happiness for the demon?  Ugh, it felt sticky and warm, and not in the ‘eating other humans’ type of way.  Well…no matter…it would go away he supposed.

But it probably never did.

[amazable01]

A little quick write inspired by @dailysandersidesaudoodles mafia mociet drawings. Soz if it's not great, I wrote this at midnight <3

TWs: Mafia-typical gun violence; coercion; morally gray sides; mentions of sickness, poverty, intoxication; description of injuries (bruising and being tied up); implied animal death (hunting); toxic relationship dynamics

“Can you do it?”

Four words. Four deceptively simple words.

Patton held it in shaking hands, eyes trained on the barrel in front of him. He’d never fired a gun before; never even thought about it. His pop had tried to teach him when he was little, but he’d never had the stomach to hurt the animals he was told to hunt. The ripple of power, the loud bang, the whimpering pain the creature released as red sprayed across the ground before him. Patton had vowed then and there never to hunt again, never to shoot a living thing.

And yet, here he was.

The man they had chosen for this was someone Patton knew all too well. A stock broker. A conman. A monster and abuser. And, of course, Patton’s boss. He’d been bound to a chair, tied down tightly to the wood. The bright ropes cut into his bruised skin to leave colorful dots and lines, not unlike a pretty package on Christmas. Even the green gag had been wrapped in the front in a sadistic mockery of a bow, all ready to be splattered and frayed with the shot Patton had been gifted.

The hand on him shifted, now placing its palm flat against his lower abdomen. Patton couldn’t tell if it was meant to be comforting, encouraging, or mocking. He… really didn’t think he wanted to know, come to think of it. Seeing that crooning face all over again wouldn’t help his rapid, unspooling indecision any more than it had the first time.

This group was Patton’s last resort. Almost destitute, Patton had crawled pityingly to their doorstep with his ill son in hand. Logan was of a sickly nature; brilliant of mind yet feeble of body. It had taken only one boy at school to walk in feeling under the weather, and Logan was unable to move on his own. Patton had tried to cure him, tried to pay for the treatments, and no one bothered to give any real help. He’d lost every penny on the boy he so desperately loved, and he was rewarded with being kicked to the curb by both his landlord and boss.

Janus was the lucky one to answer his endless pleas for sanctuary. The man brought them in, nursed Logan back to health with no cost. Not only that, he housed them and gave Patton a job close by in order to get back on his feet. He wanted Patton around because it was apparently rare to see such a bright mind and a beautiful face together at the same time. Patton had fallen for the flattery and adoration on the spot.

As time had passed, Patton became more desperate for Janus’ affections. The man acted like Patton was the most interesting little doll he’d found at a charity shop: only worth bothering with because there was a spark of potential and the soft slump of obedience in Patton’s gaze. And as for Patton, Janus was the very air he breathed: smokey and husky and tainted with feelings best left in the quiet hours after intoxication. At this point, Patton was under his spell completely, willing to do everything Janus had asked of him and promising he always would be.

And here they were now. Janus wanted to see precisely how far Patton would go if asked. Patton had promised once more he would do anything.

The gun trembles. He runs a finger over the hammer.

“Is he not worthy enough to die? Is my word not enough for you?”

An immaculate finger ghosts over Patton’s earlobe, barely there but enough to make him shudder in equal terror and agony. A tear wells up behind his lenses.

‘No one would know’, Janus had promised. It was to be their little secret, a truth unspoken to all and carried to the dusty grave Patton would be lowered in. It was to be his hell, his horror, his beauty and acceptance. In doing this, Patton would belong to them, to him. There would be no point in leaving after he made this choice; Janus would have more than enough evidence to get Logan off him before throwing Patton away somewhere so he wouldn’t talk.

Not that Patton would ever talk. He was in too deep for that, now.

“Maybe you need direction? Perhaps you have forgotten what I need of you…”

A hand cups Patton’s shaking one, and steadies it as Janus gently shifts Patton’s hand into proper aim. Patton watches as a thumb reaches around ever-so-gently, and cocks the hammer into place to prime the gun.

The man in the chair squirms and screams. Janus chuckles gently under his breath.

Patton closes his eyes, and shifts his finger onto the trigger.

“Fire.”

There was no other option, in the end. There was no world where Patton would not choose to obey.

[mistershr1mp]

THE DAZINE IS OFFICIALLY OUT FOR RELEASE!!!! After months of planning, drawing, and fighting for my life it's now accessible to the public. This project was originally to release the 19th of June, but due to social media blackout and personal reasons I chose to postpone it until the week after. I'm sincerely sorry for the wait and appreciate the patience.

A special thank you to both Care and harlequi.nz for participating in this project! Their preferred social medias are linked in the gumroad for the project, as well as listed on the contributors page.

I tried my absolute best to give something that celebrates Dazai. He's an incredibly special character to me (to my own detriment lol) and I'm happy to be able to do something for him that anyone can take a look at and (hopefully) enjoy. There's also some pay what you can digital rewards that are optional ($5 minimum). I know a lot of people are in financial straits right now, but I wanted to try to somewhat donate to a good cause on behalf of the project. All donations will be going towards Palestinian families gofundmes through Operation Olive Branch. I will make a separate post detailing the process of how I'll be donating said money sometime soon, and there will be some monetary donation made by me on behalf of the project regardless.

GET THE DAZINE TODAY!: https://shrimptextpura.gumroad.com/l/dazine?_gl=1w70rk_gaODE1ODY2OTU5LjE3MTkzMjg5NDA._ga_6LJN6D94N6*MTcxOTUyOTk5Ny4zLjEuMTcxOTUzMDg0NC4wLjAuMA.. GET SOME CUTE REWARDS FOR A GOOD CAUSE!: https://shrimptextpura.gumroad.com/l/dazineplus?_gl=1118jyiv_gaODE1ODY2OTU5LjE3MTkzMjg5NDA._ga_6LJN6D94N6*MTcxOTUyOTk5Ny4zLjEuMTcxOTUzMDg4OS4wLjAuMA..

Happy belated Birthday Dazai! :)

[vaya-writes]

Infernal Assistance (Option Four) - Prologue

You've been struggling to survive in a zombie apocalypse. Things are looking really bad before a demon swoops in to help. But that demon is an incubus. And he's in need of help too.

-

Crackfic? Zombie apocalypse AU? Reader insert? And honestly, why not make this really super indulgent? Lets make the reader on the asexual spectrum too. With a sex drive that varies on a day to day basis. I wanna see that in a character.

Reader insert is GNC regarding pronouns and backstory, AFAB. Incubus uses male pronouns and is penised.

-

Inspired by this post by @eldritch-spouse. Banner by saradika-graphics. Wordcount: 330 (it's just a prologue, okay?).

Content Warnings: brief mention and dismissal of suicide, apocalypse setting, some bleak vibes

Masterlist - A03 - Next

It has been three weeks since Veron fed. 

Three weeks since he last saw another living soul. Six weeks since the portals to Infernus were barred shut. Seven since day zero.  

If he ever met the cursed creature who’d started this outbreak – who'd manufactured this necrotic plague – witting or not: he’d throttle them. Probably. If they survived his hunger.  

But honestly, tracking them down isn’t really in his wheelhouse. He can barely find a meal, let alone the harbinger of the apocalypse.  

He’s going to starve.  

The only survivors left in the city would be hunkered down in too small rooms, behind barricades and living off dwindling supplies. It wouldn’t surprise him if the remaining people fell to starvation and thirst, rather than brave the hordes outside. If the desperate took their own lives, rather than letting time take them. 

He’d considered it. Of course he had. You don’t live through the start of an apocalypse without considering all your options.  

But ultimately, he couldn’t. He’d worked too hard. Lived through too much shit. Was too damn stubborn to give up at this point. Even as pickings grow slimmer. 

He stops on an overpass. Takes a moment to survey the nearby buildings. Ignores the undead stragglers outside, searching windows instead for signs of life. Movement, distress messages, anything.  

Nothing from the windows.  

But there is one building in his line of sight that is teeming with unlife. Husks milling outside the ground floor. Inside it too – if he squints he can just make out the shattered windows, and the stumbling silhouettes from within.  

They’re slow. Almost placid. Like whatever had drawn them to the area had long since stopped holding their interest. But you don’t get a horde of that size for no reason. 

Maybe, just maybe, there’s somebody still alive in there. Somebody who’d be very grateful if Veron showed up; ready to swoop in and play the hero.  

He glides down from the overpass, and heads towards the building. 

Next

[insertsomthinawesome]

I can't normally share my studies because I'd very much need to get permission from the original creators I'm studying from to post them. But this time since it was a movie I can get away with it >:D Nothing too exciting, I just pulled up a fight sequence from the Cowboy Bebop movie and drew frames that looked interesting. It was fun for shutting my braincell off but still feeling like I was doing something to move forward :)