#deathblogsamongyou

[whiskeyandsake]

@deathblogsamongyou

"You... you okay, boss?"

[hybridcomplex]

deathblogsamongyou replied to your post: “i really don’t like sombra’s bride of junkenstein skin or widow’s,...”:

I think the skin is cute but it's full of gay energy. And Widows is okay but a monster would have been cooler

i like the dress, but the skin tone and the hair make it really... bland? dreary? like, this is sombra, it should be way more colorful

[whiskeyandsake]

You’ll have to make do with me

@deathblogsamongyou from here.

He raised up out of the bed, red eyes watching with a predatory gaze. His breath came out like a cool mist, body returning to normal - or almost so - as he considered what Jesse was implying.

“I can wait,” he said, eyes blinking slowly, catlike. “Until you bring someone else.”

Jesse shook his head no. “That’ll be the fourth one in four days,” he said coolly. “Ain’t got it in me.” He turned away slowly, still a little cautious, and folded his shirt in his arms. He knew he wouldn’t have the energy to pick his clothes up later. May as well clear up now.

Once, he might have high-tailed it out of there, staying out of sight even if the wraith never followed or looked for him. But now, he was happy to stay, to turn his back, to leave the bathroom door open behind him too. An invitation. His way of consent.

[whiskeyandsake]

Let me tell you what I wish I'd known

Closed starter for @deathblogsamongyou

A heavy weight hung from Jesse's shoulders as he dragged him feet down quiet corridors. Pale gold sunlight spread across white walls around his slow-moving shadow. A little bite to the air, sending goosebumps over his skin, even under the olive-green serape wrapped snugly over him. Nothing a bit of coffee couldn't fix.

He rounded the corner. And blanched.

It wasn't just the mild moment of surprise at seeing someone in an anticipated empty kitchen. It was the gut-wrenching dread coming from being caught in the sights of someone he'd left behind and considered dead in every sense of the word.

Colour rushed back to Jesse's face. He scowled.

"No," he said bluntly. His voice was croaky from sleep, but it cut through the silence and ruined the peace. "Ain't doin' this." And he spun on his heel. Coffee wouldn't fix this.