Possession

[Cut for length and content: gore, body horror, possession, torture, implied rape/sexual assault, suicidality, character death… This one’s grim, folks.]

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Yet more continuation of the Iesin shot down & auctioned series

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Talvos left. 

Talvos left him. Talvos found him, Talvos saw him, and he left. 

The words tumble over and over through Iesin’s mind, taking up the space where the mysteries used to sing, filling it with a dreadful cacophony of agony and despair instead. 

Talvos left.

The first touch to the wires below Iesin drags a hoarse, exhausted moan from him. Every vibration of movement sets off others, in a rippling chain-reaction that tears at each tiny hole in his flesh. He’s lost track of how long he’s been up here, suspended in fine, delicate balance and supported by his own weight used against him, each limb a counter-weight to another, each wire that pierces him a structural necessity to the finely-woven display running above and below and through him. Now, at the prospect of unthreading all of it, he shakes with helpless, bone-weary fear, and voices that fear in trembling huffs of air that only occasionally graze the edges of sound.

The flash of hope that scorched through him when he looked up to see Talvos, realized that against all odds, beyond Iesin’s wildest imaginings, his beloved had found him - that’s gone now, turned to an anguish that is sharp and dark and hungry by the stone-still distance in Talvos’ eyes, by the disregard in his tone as he discussed Iesin like every other human who has come in to gawk at him, and then by the straight, confident set of his back as he walked away.

Talvos left.

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Eyes

It can’t last, I know this. Each person that takes the bait is another step closer to the ferry. A grim countdown; measured in eyes. Only two left now. The next person to answer Elizabeth’s challenge will be the last.

It has been good, to be free of the hunger for a time. To not have to worry about how much I am willing to risk, and what moral compromises I am willing to accept. The answer to the latter being far more than I would have imagined. I have become a monster, and that doesn’t bother me as much as it should. Selfishly I cling to life, and while I am horrified by the cost I am still willing to pay it. I thought I wanted death, on the journey, on Shadowfall, when I first tasted blood. But while I now agree that I shouldn’t be allowed to live like this that doesn’t change the fact that I still want to live.

My days are numbered, my lifespan can be measured in stolen eyes. Whether it be here or back in realspace, I know that I will be killed when my task is done. I almost made it. We are so close now. If I had been a little stronger I could have made it all the way to the end. I was so close.

(The illustration is of coyote eyes after several months of preservation, I couldn’t find any reference images of eyes in the early stages and none of the tutorials on how to preserve eyes had any photos of the process)

(The fic I wrote while the roleplay was ongoing when the terrible @in-chains-broken managed to break my character AGAIN (you’re amazing never change <3), when I reread it before posting it I was entertained by how much of a miserable sod Jaspar was XD he spent most of the campaign convinced he was about to die of something or other)

Decided to start uploading some of my old art on here, partly so that I don’t have to remember what platform I was using at the time if I want to find anything, and partly to remind myself how much I have improved.

This was I think one of my first attempts to draw humans (and you really can tell that), and it’s the characters from a story I was writing at the time entitled Steel Spine.

Story itself can be found here, genre is “being sad in a basement”

Tiny chapters version: https://www.deviantart.com/fluffysminion/art/Steel-spine-prologue-Overkill-322331208

Single document version: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1UzH4PJt60749dzLTYULI1UBeDkPFGBap9WICVHtQMA0/edit?usp=sharing