my art for the very lovely @nessa-t and her epic @spndystopiabang story:
PROJECT ANGEL
this has been my first bang and my first time creating a series of (supposedly!) matching pieces... ngl, it has been quite a struggle for me, as i don't fair too well with ongoing projects; i'm much more of an instant gratification kinda artist, lol. but i wanted to challenge myself—and challenged I was! saying that, i am so glad i took part in it though, working with @nessa-t was a blast and i'm so proud of us ahhhhhhhhh :))
thank youuuu! love, cassidy <3
LINK TO FIC ...GO READ IT, IT'S EPIC!!!
also, pls go check out the other amazing stories/art via @spndystopiabang and reblog everything and follow everyone!
WARNINGS: Implied Breeding Facility, Forced Experiments on unwilling parties, Kidnapping
BETAS: Viridis & Static_Saturn on ao3
SUMMARY:
Bio-warfare has rendered the world’s population infertile and struggling against the onslaught of walking dead. Those that survived are split into two separate factions - the Elite scientists at Sanctuary, and the untamed “Mongrels” squatting in the Slums.
In the midst of the chaos, a new breed of superhumans were cloned and bred. Their purpose - to protect Sanctuary against the zombie apocalypse and wipe out the unruly rebels in the Slums. They called the movement Project Angel, and it was led by the enigmatic soldier Castiel - “father” of all Angels.
The Slum launched their efforts to push the Angels away from their borders. They were led by a certain Dean Winchester - rogue enforcer who once served Sanctuary. With Castiel finally captured and imprisoned in the Slums, Dean struggles to rebuild his city and rally his people for the fight against Sanctuary - as well as his growing attraction to the Angel with blue eyes.
POSTING: 05/23/21
Excerpt under cut:
Damp and decay permeated the air as the inhabitants of the land wandered aimlessly through the empty streets and crumbling buildings. It was quiet for the moment as the Sun began its slow descent in the horizon. The shadows that formed sprawled across the ground - solemn and resolute like sentinels that once stood guard at the crossroads that separated Sanctuary and the Slums.
Now there was nothing but walls standing between the two cities, the two warring factions muzzled and furiously repelled back into the safety of their borders by a disease that turned the dead into living monsters.
It seemed an elegant solution at the time. As the world imploded and scrambled for the last remaining fertile land, struggling to gain control of the last drop of fossil fuel, everyone - man, woman, child, and beast - watched as the skies lit up with the fires of their own folly. Then the bomb dropped, right in the middle of each major city across the globe, spreading its toxic fumes that left a majority of Earth’s population sterile, sick or dying. Those that died - well, they did not stay dead and rose to chew and gnaw at those that could not escape. The entire world screamed its pain, its voice deafening before plunging into a sick silence, defeated.
No one knew who created this mutated strain of virus - only that the price paid was too high. Life itself screeched into standstill as nations and their petty politicians collapsed in the face of a new world - impotent and helpless. A new world. A darker world. A world so hungry it would rip apart its own flesh to feed itself.
It was this world that burned its existence into Dean Winchester’s mind as he stood within the white, clinically clean walls of the laboratory, his green eyes watching the scientists working feverishly for a cure.
