#and needs skin contact

[gomzdrawfr]

Hehe

[the-barefoot-hatter]

The first night was rough. Lot of up and downs! Very emotional!

Bonus! Five Minutes Later:

[solargeist]

an oracle and a god (technically they're both pieces to one soul)

[dragonymango]

out of reach

[some-mari-thoughts]

The neighborhood ghost

Waaaa! I loved reading the artbook so much, and Mari's page had everything I ever needed to see

[wlw-cryptid]

does anyone have big arms and a steady heartbeat combined w a willingness to let me lay wrapped in them for the next foreseeable 48 hours straight

[thefearfulheart]

I offer a clownbo headcanon

Evbo isn’t one for physical affection but doesn’t mind the contact even if it isn’t his preference. Rarely initiates physical contact other then usually a pat on the shoulder, a handshake or on the rarer occasions a hug by himself but he’s willing to hug or do anything else when asked too since he would feel bad about rejecting them. Pretty much would lay stiff as a board in bed if you cuddled him type of thing because it’s not something that is a need for him unlike for other people and he just ends up feeling a bit awkward about it. He has more of a preference for vocalising things rather since he views that as something more grounded and solid without implications unlike physical contact, something feels different when you vocalise things in his head.

Clown, on the other hand, is much more the one that actively desires physical contact and seeks it out in either small or big ways like putting a hand on people shoulders to draping himself across them. He’s extremely more proactive in initiating contact and that’s definitely because he hasn’t physically touched another person for years as he was locked away in his prison so it makes him feel grounded, makes it feel that he has actually escaped from it when he touches another breathing person that isn’t himself. Basically it allows him to feel real and not trapped in the end while speaking feels more like empty promises and lies in the end. To many implications with words while there’s something more honest about physical touch.

So you get the nice visual of Clown draping himself over Evbo’s back while the other is just chattering along about something, anything really.

[darabeatha]

Chibi commissions open!! by yours for a noble goal (doubt) | all details here / carrd 😌, if interested feel free to send me a message !

[vibatu]

“Hope. A strange concept, after so long seeing myself as the agent of ruin.

Oh. Oh.

So that's some piece of a crumb over why Kuras is so "curious" about the MC.

"-Few would cling to life so resolutely"

Hope has become such a foreign concept to him after so long, especially looking at the current state of Eridia, oh I'm gonna be sick.

[roboboxtron-draws]

I miss my boys

[letsgetrowdy43]

Petey is so endearing I love him sm and I don't know how to put it into words :)

[astracora]

A Mandated Holiday Break - Chapter 6

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 971

Written: 21st December 2024

Notes: Post-relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Masterlist

Sylus' body is an inferno. He's well used to running hotter than most. It's just another part of who he is, that doesn't occur to him the majority of the time.

The first few times you'd shared a bed, you'd wriggled out of his grasp, sweating and uncomfortable. Had he had less control over himself, he'd have pouted. (You probably didn't miss the furrow in his brow though.)

So he'd slept wearing as little as possible.

Still too much, waking up in the middle of his sleep schedule to find you across the bed, covers thrown off to cool down. Shedding your discomfort.

Next he'd taken to pulling your clothes off. Always a delight, this time a driven aim. It had worked somewhat, you'd wrapped yourself into his embrace and tangled around him, seeking out the heat of his body like he was your personal pillow.

It lasted longer, but still he was awoken by you edging away, seeking the chill of a turned over pillow and the outside of the duvet.

He'd changed the type of bedding he used, bought you new bedding.

You'd told him to stop worrying, to stop paying expenses, sometimes it was just too warm.

Sylus was sure at that he'd grumbled like a child. He wanted to hold you, and he wanted to wake up with you in his arms.

Everytime you moved out of his reach, he itched and ached like scales growing through raw skin. It was one of the few times he envied the doctor, he never seemed to have trouble with keeping you clinging throughout your slumber.

Eventually he had two things fitted, a ceiling fan and air conditioning. The change to temperature meant so little to him, unbothered by heat or cold. When you'd seen them on your next visit, you'd been incredulous. Since when did he need either of these?

He didn't answer that he needed them for you, for him, he just made an offhand comment about the best, and preparation for the future. (The immediate future. His sleep quality.)

His relief that day when he'd woken up, your head under his chin, legs tangled with his, and arms around him. Seeking out his skin against yours.

The second you left the bed, however, you'd complained for the chill. He left the remote for the new tools of his victory, in your hands, but he had gleefully held you as long as he could, chin on shoulder and hands dancing across cool skin.

Your week off has allowed him to experience that for a few days now, he's using your sleep pattern for the week, though there is no real track of time in the sky of the N109 Zone. He doesn't want to make your return to work difficult.

As he wakes, this morning you have stayed asleep, catching up on long hours. Your back is pressed to his chest and you're holding onto his arm. He won't tease you about the drool out the corner of your mouth, but he files away the image for himself. Tickled and endeared.

He doesn't want to wake you, you're so peaceful... but he can't stop himself from pulling as close as he can. Burying his nose in the crook of your neck, and breathing you in.

You smell like his last meal in every life. Like he could bite down and die happy, your blood in his mouth and your soul in his chest.

If he were a weaker man, perhaps he'd drool as well, salivating and starving.

He certainly feels starved when he cannot keep you close, desperate and dogged.

You'd teased him that he reminds you of a wolf, and he thinks that's more accurate than he likes. He would bite your hand lovingly, but tear and snarl at your command, if that's what you wanted from him.

Sylus wants to get up, if he can get breakfast ready, he can see your eyes light up. Hand you a mug of coffee, that turns his nose, in bed. So you'll kiss his cheek and sigh happily.

He feels satisfaction when he sees you happy because of him. Yet...

Pressed against you, your chest moving with each breath. So alive, and warm and his. You trust him to guard you, to kiss your neck when the scent drives him to madness, to keep you warm against the cold. He once mused that you still took his hand despite how dangerous he was, and every day he marvels more at how you continue to do so.

Now when you take his hand, you place a kiss on his knuckles. That if he had no healing ability, would be scarred and torn and ruinous. He thinks, that even if that were the case... you would still kiss them tender and raw.

You had always seen something in him that no one else did. Flowers suiting his soul, a smile worthy of his face, love belonging in his hands.

He feels sick with the feeling, overflowing from where joined hearts beat in his chest, but it's a sickness he would never wish to heal himself of. Peace found despite how little he probably deserves it.

Sylus is selfish though. A fragment, a taste, a burst of you had not been enough. Millennia's will not be enough. Until the end of the world itself he will never think this is enough.

No matter his sullied hands, or the actions he has made, some of which he would not apologise for, he will never relinquish his treasure.

His Soul.

You who owns his heart for eternity.

As he bites down at your shoulder, stirring your sleep, and laves with his tongue to your sleepy pleasure, he settles for a taste of the cure to his hunger, that he plans to draw out forever.

[whohasfourthumbsand]

sobdo you like, gove the best hugs?

four arms...

+ Not big on physical contact, but the arms are warm, and I've been told they're a "comforting amount of weight". So, yes? Hypothetically?

+ If there was a way to scientifically quantify hug quality, I'd test that.

[fosterscribbles]

This is a bit of a different post, but I did a bunch of doodles relating to my experiences with skin picking. It’s something I've struggled with all my life, so I have been wanting to make these guys for a while. They started out a bit comedic which is why some of these may seem silly, but I ended up doing more serious-ish ones. IDK if these are at all relatable to others with similar struggles, but I figured I’d share them

[elderwisp]

today in ts4: everyone is getting subtle tweaks

[koibish]

just a 21st century water dragon trying not to eat his landlord every time rent is due (i finally downloaded For Rent!!)