#it makes sense its so him

[nbrnty-replies]

oh Im so unwell... life destroyed, the vn destroyed me who could've predicted it.... I am bawling in shock I had to stare in awe for the credits it's so expected but the sliver of hope killed me....

[mochasucculent]

Was looking at refs and since Viktor has two different leg braces I was wondering, do we think he wears them simultaneously?? The refs don't perfectly line up perspective-wise so it's hard to tell but parts of the one he wears during the Hexcore scenes look like they could maybe line up with the brace that he wears over his clothes, but also some parts really don't and look like they'd be super uncomfy. Also HOW does he take these on and off. Experts weigh in

[katsinspats]

Tragic: Guy you based your entire villain backstory on doesn't even remember you

[qoldenskies]

i think its so funny when people take the way donnie acts at face value even though its a horrible lie because he's a horrible liar, while understanding leo is bullshitting very well despite him actually being GOOD at bullshitting. many such cases

[tiarpopdind]

Painted this guy 🙄🙄🙄

[verflares]

(draconifies your zelink) oh whoops lol

+ an extra pic of em hanging out together :]

btw, you can find these guys on inprnt! both as a pair, or apart :] You Choose.

[h0use-fly]

the beast

[just-null]

wrestling to be the first to greet you (they broke into your house)

[ciderjacks]

despite Laios low self esteem making him think that if he’d been eaten, Chilchuck and Marcille wouldn’t have helped Falin,

theres a small part of me that thinks the reason Chilchuck stayed with the party and went back in the dungeon in the first place was because he didn’t want to leave Laios alone. That Laios was moreso the reason he stayed.

[charles-jpg]

i come back stronger | charles leclerc

[gunstellations]

its sonics turn! 👅

[hinamie]

congrats on your recovery n all yuuji but unfortunately for you I thought the scars were cool >:/

[chaoticas-hell]

Neil being demi is actually so important I will fight people on this. It fits his character so perfectly and I get upset when people erase his ace-ness just my demi king live his demi life

[ameliadoesstuff]

something about s1-3 zane is just. oh this guy is so silly and friend-shaped. look at his friendly boy swag. like????? how could you ever hate him. the ultimate silly

not to hate on his titanium era because frankly it is very cool. but the essence of s1-3 zane is unique and uncapturable. he is just a little guy you can put in your pocket. his default facial expression is so inherently funny. there are no thoughts behind these eyes. i would trust him with my life.

[abstractfrog]

SILVER BLAZE PART THREE - happy jonkday everyone. one of these days i'll draw a scene that doesn't take place at night

[s0fter-sin]

kneeling is a broad term for what ghost does with price

surrendering is slightly more accurate but even that doesn’t hope to touch the sheer desperation in the way he clutches at him; his body bowed low at his feet, his legs latched around one of his, hugging it so tightly to his chest his arms shake as he digs his face into his thigh

it’s only here that he can finally give in to the screaming; to the distant voice he strangles into silence every day of his life. the one who begs him to make himself as small as possible; do everything he can to hide from the ever encroaching demons growling and salivating at his heels

it’s only here, in the dark of price’s barracks, hidden by a bed at his back and a wall to his front, that he finally lets himself stop running; only between solid combat boots and worn fatigues does he let himself tremble and admit to the choking fear

he’d break open price’s chest if he could; crawl past his gushing viscera and curl up under his ribs, hidden in the warm dark

ghost clawed his way out of the grave with broken nails and gritted teeth but he wouldn’t mind being buried again if it meant being cradled in the safety of price’s insides. his warm blood and soft lungs would blanket him, mask the stench of his rotten flesh until he could even convince himself that, maybe, he too was still alive

he shifts, unnerved by his own longing, and price runs his hand over the crown of his mask the same way he’d card it through his hair until he settles once more

he grounds him over the long hours it takes for his white-knuckled grip to relax into a loose hold; for his face to stop grinding into the meat of his thigh and simply rest in his lap, his bracketing legs the only thing holding his lax body up as he floats, untethered by fear