#in his own way XD

[dvilsdesire]

😈 Raphael x Haarlep 😈

[shepscapades]

shep I was talking to my brother about dbhc xisuma as one does and mentioned that ask about not being able to puzzle xisuma's face together mentally and my brother joked that the reason you put the spoiler bars and such on his face is cause you cant draw his whole face yet 😂

anyway I might have talked his ear off about dbhc idk tho lmao

LMAOO NOOOO!!! MY SECRET FINALLY IS OUT!!! /silly

[xx-sketchy-xx]

He turned into a panda almost immediately afterwards

[krysmcscience]

I will be the first to admit I'm not the best at drawing animal or furry characters, but I wanted to get something scribbled down in my Non-Goof style, anyway. Plus, I've been enjoying the many reference pages folks were posting of their own designs for the Lamb and Narinder, so, uh. Here's mine, I guess! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

do not comment on how long narinder's tail is or i swear to the lamb i will make it even longer next time >:]

[dropthedemiurge]

Chun Sangwon: Frustrated bisexual + second lead syndrome

+ bonus (good main character posing like a bad guy is just trying to figure out how to make everyone happy)

[elvenbeard]

You're my World

Doesn't matter where we are as long as we're together.

New Pride Flags Makeup (AXL Edition) by @pinkyjulien 💛

[cienie-isengardu]

Present for Shang Tsung

[doodlejoltik]

my favourite writing device is having an un-Rei-liable narrator

[jessamine-rose]

*lovingly tackles Aine*

Read my Yandere! Pierro longfics first ♪( ´▽｀)

Last week, my beloved mutual @ainescribe surprised me with Savior! Darling fan art and AHAI9232@2-!/! CRYING SCREAMING I WANT TO LOOK AT THIS ART AND WORSHIP YOUR VERSION OF SAVIOR THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BLESSING ME WITH YOUR ART—

*clears throat* Anyway, now that I finally have the time to properly sit down and comment on the fan art, I’ll do just that. Feedback will be in the tags and it will be unhinged. Once again, thank you so much to Aine for drawing this <3

[ciphers-fragments-au]

First of four ref sheets for this blog's AU "Cipher's Fragments"

Here's Bill Cipher's ref sheet, including both younger and older form to match Stanford Pines' age throughout the AU. I like to call his skin details "deer freckles". He has gold littered around both of his designs!!

Next up is Stanford Pines

When all ref sheets are complete I will create a pinned message with all of them together to have easy access on info/refs.

-@sylveon-and-velveon

[teecupangel]

Catboy nonny here with the weirdest idea yet. So Desmond for some reason doesn’t activate the Eye (his choice or some intervention, doesn’t really matter) and the world burns. World is an apocalyptic wasteland. AND for some fuckin reason, Des is now a catboy.

Now here’s the fun part. The survivors are obviously gonna go coocoo for coco puffs because I said so, and a group of them start worshipping Desmond and using surviving anime and comics as proof of his divinity. MODERN APOCALYPSE CULT FOR CATBOY DESMOND!

Where is his team during this? Unclear, but Bill’s dead because fuck Bill.

Desmond has no idea why it turned out like this.

After being knocked out by some kind of blast that appeared from Minerva’s hologram before he could touch the device, he woke up to the feeling of flickering cat ears and swaying cat tail.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, he couldn’t make any other noise other than cat noises.

His phone was also cracked beyond repair and, considering how much his ass hurt, it might have been his fault.

Wait, he didn’t planned to get toppled by Minerva’s mind blast or whatever.

It wasn’t his fault!

Anyway, with no other ways to communicate with his team, he put his hood up to hide his cat ears and hid his cat tail by making it curl around his waist so his hood could cover it.

It wasn’t exactly comfortable (especially since he had to puncture a hole on his jeans for his newly acquired tail) but it would have to do.

It was more important for him to find his team.

.

The world burned and it changed the entire world.

Some changes were immediate.

All electronic devices died…

The death of so many people who were unable to stay in a building fortified enough to protect them from a force of nature they don’t even know about.

But the worst was yet to come.

The Solar Flare did more than destroy what it touched.

It changed the world itself.

The soil itself lost many of its nutrient, making it harder to grow plants necessary to survive.

Animals were not spared from its flames and their population dwindled into frightening numbers.

And the humans…

It is during these kinds of tragedy that humans show both the worst and best of them.

Humans formed different groups and tackled this new world in different ways.

And the weak groups…

They usually fell because it was the strong groups who managed to horde resources, leaving little for the weak to fight over.

It was during one of these ‘skirmishes’ that Desmond found his first followers.

Calling it skirmishes wasn’t exactly correct.

A group of humans enjoying the carnage and lawlessness of these lands were hunting down a small group of young adults who were just trying to find enough food to make it to the day.

Their first mistake was checking a convenient store, a hotspot for every other groups in the area.

They would have fared better had they broken into empty houses and looked for canned food instead.

Desmond took care of the ‘hunters’ easily. They weren’t professionals and stood no change against Desmond.

Still…

It brought a bad taste in his mouth how these people used to live normal lives before everything happened.

The people he saved tried to thank him but then…

They saw his cat ears.

And one of them shouted…

“WE FOUND OUR PROTAGONIST!!!”

.

Desmond’s luck smacked him right on the face.

The people he just saved?

They were part of an Anime club in junior high (to be more specific “Japanese Culture Appreciation Club”) and they all shared a delusion that this is now that set of an anime and they all have to find the protagonist to survive.

Desmond being a badass with cat ears and a silent type (not by choice!) became their protagonist.

When Desmond tried to explain that, no, he was not a government experiment that escaped or he wasn’t isekai’ed and that he used to be a normal human, they just believed that Desmond has ‘awaken’ his powers after the Solar Flare.

No matter what he says, the group follows him around and treat him as the ‘protagonist’ which is, really, just a word they use to deny any allegation of ‘worshiping’ going on.

Desmond can’t leave them behind because they’re kids, for fuck’s sake. They weren’t harming anyone (other than Desmond’s self esteem and pride) so…

Uuuhhh… Desmond is now in charge of young adults who believe him to be the protagonist.

… and it will grow to include other people.

… later on.

[mitamicah]

11/13 Käärijä stickers 🦩🌴⛱️

Did I plan that I'd take this long between drawing the sketch and rendering the finished piece so that Jere is now on vacation again making this relevant? Nope, but it would've been fun if I had x'D

I couldn't leave Frank out tho :'3

⬅️Previous entry ➡️Concept sketches

[fionnalovesanimeboysandholo]

I cried when Gray had the dream about his birthday and everyone was so happy there and it must have hurt him so badly too see his loved ones that are all dead and they will never return back 😢

Juvia is truly a treasure. I am glad Juvia is his biggest support now 💙

[celestialcreativity]

Yusuke don’t care if it’s a girl, a baby, somebody’s grandma, or even his own son! He’ll STILL take ‘em on and knock them out! 😤😂

[blackjackkent]

Rakha enters the Counting House's high security vault on a balcony overlooking the main floor. It's an enormous room but mostly empty except for three people standing around a single chest at its center - a dwarf in a fine silk tunic and two guards armored like the ones upstairs.

No sign of Minsc. Jaheira has described him and he is definitely not any of these people.

"It's still... moving..." one of the guards quavers nervously, looking at the chest with an expression of deep anxiety.

Rakha's head tilts to one side and she squints. The chest gives an almost imperceptible twitch.

"Hush your fussing," the dwarf says irritably, pulling a pipe from his pocket and sticking it into his mouth. "Nine-Fingers had this one made especially. That little mouthful will barely slow it down."

(A/N: "Made"? This line raises a lot of questions about mimic biology and reproduction. Also, one of Glitterbeard's guards has Hector's face with an undercut and no beard, but the right eye color more or less, which is amusing me.)

"But the stories..." The guard wrings her hands.

"Stories," the dwarf scoffs. "Tall tales and big names." He pokes his pipe at the other guard, who is looking at his comrade anxiously. "Don't let them fool you, lad. Elminster the archmage. Drizzt the drow exlie. Heroes have power, aye - but not half so much as we do." He flicks his fingers, and Rakha watches with mild interest as fire flares up around his fingers, with which he lights his pipe before inhaling a mouthful of smoke.

"A little coin in the right purse," he murmurs pensively. "A soft word in the right ear. It's not glory that spins these planes, lad. It's gold. See? Now--"

He breaks off abruptly. The chest has given another distinct twitch, and this time its accompanied by a low, moaning growl that sets the hair standing up on the back of Rakha's neck.

She has only a moment to process what's happening, but it's long enough. She's seen this before, a creature disguising itself as a chest - in Grymforge, and in Moonrise Towers. A mimic, Wyll called it. A creature that is mouth and teeth and tongue and very little else, and would have swallowed her whole if she'd let it.

Extrapolation flick-flicks through Rakha's brain like lightning. The visitor logs said Minsc was here only minutes ago, led here by Glitterbeard, the bank's manager. Nine-Fingers said she instructed that he be killed. Jaheira has described Minsc as a behemoth, dangerously violent, and with his own streak of madness to match Rakha's.

There are only so many ways to safely kill such a man. One of them, Rakha imagines, is having him swallowed by a mimic.

Mmmm... whispers the beast in her brain. Too quick. Too clean. No mess left behind to show the deed was done. And yet... perhaps not so easy as they think...

The mimic gives another low moan, its whole body spasming and the eyes embedded in its "wood" flesh opening wide. And then a fist explodes outward from between its teeth.

Blood spatters across the ground. The scent fills Rakha's nose and her vision goes white at the corners. She grips the balcony railing, struggling to regain control, and watches in astonishment as a huge, muscular form uncurls itself from within the mimic's body, ripping its jaw upward with a sickening crack.

The mimic screams and shudders to stillness, its tongue lolling out along the stone floor. Minsc - for certainly this is Minsc - straightens up, his eyes bright with rage as he glares down at the dwarf.

"There is no gold in here!" he bellows, pointing at the dead mimic. With a grunt, he lifts the whole creature up by its tongue and hurls it aside.

"If there is one thing Minsc hates more than beasts with bad breath," he growls. "It is those who are tricksome with the truth."

His head cocks to one side, and then he smiles, showing all of his teeth. "And turnips. But you are no turnip! Let that be a comfort to you in your final moments!"

At Rakha's side, Jaheira laughs suddenly - a sound Rakha has never heard from her before. Every muscle in her body has relaxed with sudden visible relief and her eyes have brightened as she steps forward eagerly. "Meet Minsc!" she says cheerfully. "He still seems very much himself to me."

Rakha grunts. The smell of blood from the eviscerated mimic is still plucking angrily at the strings of her brain, and it is taking most of her available effort to retain control of herself. If this is Minsc, Jaheira can handle the reunion without her.

(Part of her is intrigued, attentive. Just as she has been led to believe, she can already see something of herself in this huge behemoth of a man - the rage and edge of madness in his eyes. The brute force ripping and tearing of flesh and teeth. But there will be time to understand that when she can breathe again.)

Let Jaheira reveal herself.

Jaheira steps forward, letting her boots click loudly against the marble of the floor. Minsc stiffens at once, turning to look up - and his eyes widen, seeing her face.

"You..." he hisses.

There is something strange in his eyes - it does not look like happy recognition. Surely Jaheira sees it too - but just as surely, she doesn't want to. Her smile takes on a forced quality. "Stone Lord?" she calls down teasingly. "Better to call yourself Stone-Head."

(A/N: For once when I say in my writing that there's a long silence, I actually mean it - there was a good fifteen seconds of Jaheira and Minsc just staring at each other with Minsc looking increasingly puzzled. XD )

A long silence passes, during which Minsc's expression shows his inward struggle to parse what Jaheira has said. Then his expression goes very dark, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Your false face does not fool my eyes!" he roars. "I will cut until you look like the monster you are!"

The words resonate inside Rakha's head. The beast keens eagerly. Yes, cut, cut, cut... spill her blood, spill all their blood, rip out their throats and then we shall rip out yours, Minsc of Rashemen--

Jaheira's brief moment of relief has vanished. She has gone utterly still and a muscle is working in her jaw. "Somehow you are making even less sense than usual," she says hoarsely.

And then a voice, all too familiar, echoes across the vault. "Perhaps I can explain!"

It's Jaheira's voice.

And at the far end of the room stands... Jaheira. Or someone who looks like her, at least. Her skin shimmers with the lingering Weave-ripples of the teleportation spell they have seen before, the one used by the Absolutists and the nautiloid. She raises one eyebrow, her lips curled in an unpleasant smirk.

Understanding once again cracks through Rakha like a whip. A shapeshifter - one of Orin's doppelgangers, this time wearing Jaheira's face. But not quite her manner; the smirk is too hard, too cold, and her voice rasps with a disdain that, even in the worst moments, Rakha has never seen from her companion.

"The Stone Lord sees through your lies, shapeshifter!" she barks up at Jaheira. Her voice rings like a bell in the high-ceilinged room. "Count yourself lucky he cannot stay." She turns the sharp edge of her glare down towards the dwarf next to the dead mimic. "Nine-Fingers set a poor trap, little banker. Let the Absolute's faithful show you how it is done."

The Weave rocks. From every corner of the room, figures with weapons and spiked armor shiver out of the dark. Absolutists. Bhaalists. Rakha's staves are out in her hands before she has fully registered what is happening.

"Now come, Stone Lord!" the imposter barks. "We have the gold - and the Absolute has need of it elsewhere."

For a long moment, Minsc does not move, just looks up at Jaheira - the true Jaheira - with narrowed eyes. Then he turns. "As you say, Jaheira," he rumbles. Crossing the room with a few enormous strides, he moves to the imposter's side.

The imposter's smirk widens. And then there's another flash of dark energy, and they're gone, and the cultists begin to close ranks on all sides.

Jaheira has gone very pale with fury and alarm. She pulls her scimitars free, but there is no time for her to do anything but watch as her friend disappears in the Absolutists' company.

"Stlarning shapechangers!" she roars, almost matching Minsc in thunderous volume despite her smaller frame. "Enough - let us deal with these cultists, then find out where they are nesting!"

[adrift-in-thyme]

I need to know. First is probably touch starved thanks to all the shit that happened to him before his death, right? Which of the chain make it their mission to fix it?

Ok so I saw this ask, sat down, and started writing. So I hope you don’t mind but I’ll be answering your question in fic form

(And it’s more than 1k so I’m just gonna…hide it beneath the cut lol)

Sky breathes in deep and closes his eyes. The tantalizing smell of pumpkin soup wafts to his nostrils, mingling with the smokiness of the fire. The sounds of its crackling and the cheery talk of his companions reach his ears, and he smiles.

It’s been a long, tiring day for them all, but moments like this make it well worth it. The bruises from today’s battles may still ache, and the cuts still sting, yet at the end of it, they have one another.

He allows himself another moment of dark bliss, then opens his eyes. Taking in the sight of the heroes only makes his smile grow.

Across the fire Wild grins and nudges Twilight with his elbow, both of them chuckling over some shared joke. Legend and Warriors sit shoulder to shoulder. Their friendly teasing can be heard from where Sky sits. Wind has settled down beside Time, and though Sky can’t make out what their conversation is about, it seems like the older hero is telling the sailor a story.

Four sits off to the side, engrossed in a book, a soft smile on his face. And Hyrule joins in Twilight and Wild’s conversation now, the laughter growing louder at his cheeky contribution.

Everyone seems happy and light. Perhaps, more so than they have been for a while.

…well, maybe not everyone. Sky sits upright abruptly, scanning the camp for their little group’s newest member. He could have sworn the hero had been right here moments ago. Where had he slipped off to?

Aha.

Sky catches sight of the now familiar silhouette, dark and shadowy against the light of the moon. First sits a short distance away, back to the camp, face upturned to take in the sky. His cape floats lazily upon the breeze.

The Skyloftian takes another glance around the group and makes his decision. He rises.

Though First is much more at ease with the other heroes now, he can still be a bit aloof. Not that Sky blames him. Being with a group can be difficult, especially when constant danger is added to the mix. And after everything the knight has been through his behavior makes sense.

Still, Sky can’t bring himself to believe First actually wants to be alone. He’s seen the yearning in his eyes when he sees the others teasing one another, hugging one another, easy and companionable as family members. And he’s not the only one either.

“There’s no way he doesn’t actually want to sit with us,” Wild had whispered one day when First had broken away yet again to sit alone. “Going as long as he did without anyone even touching him? It’s torture.”

Time had nodded, expression solemn but understanding. “He’s scared. Give him time.”

So, Sky had given him time. Time to adjust and learn to trust them, time to find his footing in a time that was not his own. But First hadn’t stopped putting distance between himself and the others. And Sky is tired of waiting

It’s clear that the knight needs someone else to make the first step. So, tonight he intends to do just that.

It worked with Legend. If he’s lucky, it’ll work with First too.

And so, leaving the comfort of the fire behind, he walks to First’s side.

First doesn’t startle at his approach, but he does turn at the sound of his footsteps. He looks up at him, gaze sharp and cold. If he weren’t accustomed to it by now, Sky would likely turn tail and rush back to the others.

“Hi,” he says, instead, holding up a hand in a little wave. “Mind if I join you?”

Instantly, First’s expression softens.

“Of course not.”

He gestures toward the spot beside him. Sky settles down, sliding close so his shoulder bumps First’s. Though the knight tenses slightly, he doesn’t move away. The Skyloftian is more than happy to count that as a win.

“What’re you doing over here by yourself?” he asks, casually. “It’s much warmer by the fire.”

First hums. He’s looking at the sky again, pale hair and skin giving him an almost otherworldly look beneath the moon’s glow.

“You can see the stars better from here.”

Sky knows that’s a lie. The stars are bright enough to be seen from virtually any angle and the little clearing they’ve made their camp in is among the best. But he lets it slide.

“They’re beautiful,” he says and First nods.

“Every age of Hyrule is unique and their skies are no exception.” A smile tugs at First’s lips. “But somehow the stars are always the same.”

Sky grins. He knows well the comfort of Hyrule’s skies. The same constellations he once gazed at from atop the academy can be seen from Lon Lon Ranch or the Dueling Peaks.

“It’s true. See?” He points and First follows the direction of his finger. “There’s the Loftwing Constellation I used to see on Skyloft. It’s always been my favorite.”

First’s smile grows a bit larger, some of the tension bleeding from his shoulders.

“It’s mine too.”

Emboldened, Sky gestures to another cluster of stars.

“I’ve gotta admit, though, I’ve always been fond of the First Hero.”

First stares at the constellation for a moment. Then, with a chuckle, he shakes his head.

“Now, you're just flattering me.”

He shivers a little and Sky takes the opportunity to scoot closer.

“Here,” he says, untying his sailcloth. He stretches it so both he and First are enveloped in its warmth. “This will keep the cold out.”

First drags his gaze down from his star-gazing to skewer him with a questioning look. Sky meets it with a kind smile, and after a moment the hero relaxes. Carefully, he grasps his end, pulling it snugly over his shoulders. And Sky might be imagining it, but he’s almost certain First leans against him just a bit.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

Sky can’t keep back the grin that lifts his lips.

“My pleasure.”

They sit in silence for a moment, bodies pressed close, eyes trained on the heavens above. Then, First breaks it.

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I appreciate the gesture, truly. But it is unnecessary.”

“Do what?” Sky asks, nonchalantly. “I just felt like spending some time with my predecessor.”

First turns to him, studying him in the darkness. Sky can tell without even looking at his face, that he doesn’t believe him. And after a few very awkward minutes pass he realizes something more genuine is in order.

“I like being with you, First,” he says, gently. He places a hand on First’s shoulder and the knight stiffens. Even in the dark, he can see the fractures in his usually guarded expression. “We all do. You don’t have to be alone.”

Something flits across First’s face, come and gone too fast for Sky to catch it. But before either of them can say anything more, Wild’s cheery voice rings out across the clearing.

“Dinner’s ready! Hurry on over unless you want us to eat it all!”

First looks away, quickly.

“I suppose we’d best head back,” he says, tone suspiciously level. “I don’t doubt their ability to scarf down everything in that pot.”

He doesn’t move, however, and Sky decides to take another chance. He gives him a gentle nudge.

“You’re right, we should go.”

Rising, he secures the clasp on the sailcloth once more. Something like remorse flashes across First’s face, but it is gone as quickly as it came. And when Sky turns to head back to camp, he follows him without comment.

Wild is ladling out generous portions of soup when they arrive. He hands them both bowls with a grin.

“It’s Twi’s recipe,” he says, “or more Yeto’s. Either way, don’t worry, I made seconds.”

Sky gives him an answering grin of his own. “Thanks, Champion.” He turns to First and waves a hand. “Come on, you can sit by me.”

The knight hesitates a moment, looking at the log the other heroes have made their seats upon with a mix of longing and trepidation. Then, he nods.

Sky settles down beside Legend, sending the veteran a smile as he does so. That sets First between him and Twilight.

The rancher greets First with a genial nod, which the knight returns as he sits down. Despite his easy movements and relaxed expression, however, Sky can feel the tension that radiates off of him in waves. But as they begin to eat and the conversation turns to favorite battle strategies, he slowly starts to relax.

And when they finish their meal and sleepiness brings their conversations to a lazier pace, the other heroes start to shift positions.

Slowly, they drift over as they always do, seeking the warmth and comfort of close proximity. But unlike other nights, where they usually group together in twos and threes, the heroes decide to form a giant cuddle pile. Even Time joins, though he sticks to the outskirts of it, his head resting on Warriors’ shoulder.

Everyone else snuggles close, lazily mumbling complaints about bony elbows and knees, and sighing as they find comfortable positions.

And First finds himself smack in the center of it all.

He sends Sky an almost worried glance as Wind squeezes between him and the rancher. The sailor huddles close, with a wide yawn.

“This was your plan the whole time, wasn’t it?” The knight whispers, accusingly. But even as he says it, Wind tugs at his cape, cuddling into its warmth. His expression softens and he reaches down, tucking the sailor in more comfortably.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Sky sees the rancher try and fail to hold back a smile.

“I didn’t plan anything,” he replies, innocently. “I think the soup just made everyone extra sleepy. Right, Twilight?”

Twilight nods. “Nothing puts you to sleep like a good bowl of soup. And Yeto’s is the best. Better than a sleep potion, I’d say.”

From First’s expression he doesn’t believe either of them. Regardless, he doesn’t complain after that.

And when his eyelids droop, he finally allows his head to drop onto Sky’s shoulder. Gently, Sky pulls the sailcloth over his shoulders once more. The knight blows out a small sigh of contentment and snuggles closer.

Sky smiles, reveling in this small victory.

“Goodnight, First,” he whispers, settling in and letting his eyes slip closed.

When First replies his words are slurred and thick with sleep. But Sky can hear the smile in them anyway.

“Goodnight, Sky.”