Story cover for ALL CREATED EQUAL (COMIC STRIP VERSION) by budeice
ALL CREATED EQUAL (COMIC STRIP VERSION)
  • WpView
    Leituras 20
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    Votos 3
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    Capítulos 1
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    Tempo <5 mins
  • WpView
    Leituras 20
  • WpVote
    Votos 3
  • WpPart
    Capítulos 1
  • WpHistory
    Tempo <5 mins
Concluída, Primeira publicação em mai 31, 2020
(COMPLETE COMIC) Bud E. Ice attends a co-workers funeral, and discovers some lives are more "valuable" than others. [Story and Artwork done by me, myself and I. ]
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"I love you," Jack smiled. They looked at each other for what felt like a decade. "...No. No you don't." Willow rolled her eyes. "It seemed like the part of our fight where I should say it," he smirked, only making her anger rise. "Why are you doing this?" His expression faltered for a second as he heard the fear in her voice. "Treating me like this? Do you hate me or something? Or do you just not care if I live or die?" His eyes widened briefly before he shook his head. "I don't hate you, or want you to die. But I can't like you either. Humans live a short life, I live forever." He paused, taking a breath. "I can't let myself get attached to someone that will just die on me, or put you in danger," Jack sighed, scratching his neck. Something in his voice made Willow believe this wasn't his words, but rather, words he had been told. When Willow made a deal with a reaper to save her little brother, she never expected to end up as one's bloodbag. Or, as Jack likes to call her, 𝙋𝙚𝙩. Join Willow on her journey as she discovers the hidden supernatural world that has been right under her nose for longer than she even remembers. One where love is forbidden and can get you killed. And pray to Death for her soul, because 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯, she's gonna need it. "𝑨 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒅𝒗𝒊𝒄𝒆." 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍. "𝑰𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉," 𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅, 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒆, "𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉." Parts 1-2 of the Reaper's Pet trilogy
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The Funeral Style

49 capítulos Concluída

"If they aren't pretty when they are dead, then why bother keeping the bodies in my cemetery? Just burn them. Burn all of them, and give me the charming ones." I laughed at how psychotic he sounded; or even how psychotic he was."You're young, why do you even own your own cemetery? That can't even be legal." "Why bother concerning yourself over my affairs? This cemetery-" he quickly corrected himself, "My cemetery is the most luxurious and ravishing of them all." He bent down, and began to whisper in my ear, "And I know, that you, my lamb, understand my funeral style, don't you?"