Hi! I'm anon who asked about using your human spamtenna designs in nsfw fanfic the other day. since i am legally obligated to share: "what money sounds like" on ao3, https://archiveofourown.org/works/77811831
i hope u dont mind i wanted to draw this bit bcs it made me say 'what a fucking loser' out loud absolutely phenomenal work
I don't believe I ever posted this old comic from 2020. Enjoy!
CW: Implied drugs
[ID: Comic pages in grey scale, of Lupin the Third.
Page 1
Lupin is being grabbed by the shirt collar by Zenigata and says "Hey now--" and Zenigata interrupts him loudly asking "What are you, high?!!" Lupin is smiling through this with his hands up.
A close-up of Lupin's face as he replies "Absolutely!" and we can see that his eyes are shaded a darker than his skin, implying that they're red.
Zenigata goes stiff as he realizes that Lupin has done a week. He frowns.
Page 2
Zenigata is in the foreground walking away from Lupin and he looks absolutely horrified. Lupin did a drug?!
Lupin peeks out in the background from behind Zenigata and asks "Pops! Where're you goin'?" /end]
-- THIS SCENE CONTAINS DESCRIPTIONS OF ALCOHOL AND IMPLICATIONS OF OTHER DRUGS. --
--Admin is 21, all topics will be tagged accordingly--
Claire stands in an ashen field, blackened and burnt. The last few skeletal trees stretch up from the scorched soil- one last futile effort to pull away from this place.
The sky is the hazy grey of fog and smoke. Twisted bits of ash and burnt black paper trail down from the sky. Despite all the burn marks, this place is cold- it seeps into her bones, a cold that crawls into your skeleton and refuses to leave.
Then she's grabbed from behind, a hand over her mouth, and pulled backwards into the dark.
Claire's eyes snap open- she's sitting on a passenger train, and suddenly she feels like she's more awake than she's been in her life.
The train pulls to a stop and she stumbles off. Her blood is on fire. Like there's electricity in her veins. There's snow on the ground but the cold can't reach her now- not while she's awake.
She finds her way to a big faded house and pulls open the garage, where she's greeted by a wave of smoke and cheering voices- people have been waiting for her. A bottle is passed around again- a welcoming ritual. Someone will stay awake with her tonight.
And then she's in a cage. A pit. Cold and darker than anything she's seen. Colors and shapes dance around her vision as her eyes try to find anything they can cling on to. And then something is in there with her. Papercuts and hands that burn like liquid nitrogen, all over her body. Clinging to her. Pulling the warmth out of her. Hanging on for dear life as if maybe it could be ripped back into the world with her.
Then she's back in the garage. And the hands are gone but the cold is still in her bones. She wants to scream. She wants to claw her eyes out, staple them open, never sleep again-
Instead she reaches for the bottle, and a can of energy drink to chase it with.
