#video may be triggering

[mountainsinaboat]

Yennefer & Tissaia - All That Really Matters

[toy-with-eli]

🍌 😏 ( Submission by @kinkydadda )

Thanks x)

[shoogachi]

Vergil’s Sin Devil Trigger.

[fryday]

criminal that phil didn't use his deep american narrator voice for all 30 minutes of elevated dread

[tamagoneko]

careful, he’s gonna kick your ass.

[autisimsway]

Light Yagami tries to write Vergils name, but....

[thatonedemonnamedlucifer]

ngl, as much as i love the horror/grimdark/creepypasta(?) era/genre of MLP fan media, I'll never forgive bronies for what they did to the song "Smile".

[6-evil-6-soul-6]

Again the same, but in different location and edited colors.

Fits good as a video wallpaper for mobiles.

[roseydanes]

WIP. My first time drawing DmC: Devil May Cry Dante. Did a mix of markers and pencils + digital editing, kinda like my previous post of DMC5 Dante. Basically, I emulated a photoshop-style process using Apple Sketchbook.

You can tell where the blue pencil lines turn into sketch marks on the neck. The lighting/color work I did digitally, didn't preserve some of the line work in the ears so they look like 2 little butterfly wings on either side of his head.

I like how the skin came out as well as the hair texture. I also like how different he looks from 5 Dante, it's a fun contrast, working with such distinctly different faces. I'm also happy with the eyes, and the textures cutting across his face and neck that make him look like he's in limbo.

I'm in between drawing pads but when I get my new one, I'll go in and clean up some of the crude rubber-stamping, I'll detail the necklace, and I'll make him pop a little more with some accents. I'll also pull him forward by adjusting the background a bit. Until then, here's another edit. Tried to get the texture and colors closer to his look in the game with this one.

[missroguewerecat]

Casey Edwards - Devil Trigger (Lyric Video) (Full Version)

Okay this might be the best lyric video of Devil Trigger plus the scenes match with the lyrics is amazing.

[liulyam]

i’m thinking about content so specific and niche no one’s ever even conceived of it (jace and kallist in devil may cry world au)

[fairytalenobodiesxvi]

I know it's December but like. Here we are with In a Rainy Town, Balloons Dance with Devils.

[shoogachi]

VERGIL from DMC

[kalach-cha]

idk why but so many gifmakers online are absolutely insufferable. like you'll see the most gorgeous sets from one person who's in a bunch of your fandoms, and then you'll scroll and see the most heinous takes floating about on their blogs

[justthatjhin]

Darkness - Omen (Valorant) Angst

Trigger Warning: Self Harm, Character Death, Heavy Gore

Where was all this darkness coming from?

It felt like it was just leaking out of Omens eyes, covering his vision, dwelling from deep inside. It felt like barbed wire strapping tightly around his wrists, pulling them to the ground, as if bound to lead weights.

His throat felt pierced, blocked, like an arrow had been shot right through it. His form was shaking, threatening to fall apart, rip, tear, through the bandages that had held him together so reliably ever since he became this way.

Omen’s maw parted, trying to let out a desperate scream, any kind of noise, helplessly. Only pressed air left his throat, and his claws caught in the little loops inside the carpet on the floor.

Desperately, he dragged them across it, feeling the heat the friction caused, but that pain was nothing, compared to what his body felt like. He repeated the motion, until he was sure his bones were exposed on the tips of his fingers.

The air felt heavy, the smoke felt like it was trying to suffocate him. An incredible weight pressed down on his shoulders, threatening to break his spine, sending shivers of exhaustion down into his arms.

He didn't know why he still struggled, why he still held himself up. Omen wanted to fall, be swallowed by this unbreakable darkness, never to be worried about again.

He was miserable, he felt miserable, at least.

Everything that he hated about himself was things he had been complimented for. All his flaws to be abused for power, even if it ripped him to shreds from inside. Suddenly, his elbow gave in to the side, and his face hit the ground without resistance.

The sharp taste of metal filled his throat, and he wanted to scoff. He was a ghost, a wraith, a nothing. Still, he could bleed. Bleed out, that's what he should.

Die, die, Omen, like you did so many times before.

Shakily, he lifted himself off the floor, still blinded, but no longer lost. With self destructive violence, he slammed his face into the floor, not being able to suppress a pain filled grunt.

More blood, he simply spat it onto the carpet. The light gray fabric must have been tainted with crimson by now. A joyless chuckle left his lips, as he felt a chip on one of his fangs with the tip of his tongue.

More, he wanted, he thought he needed, but before he could destroy himself more, he suddenly felt arms grabbing his throat, arms and shoulders. In a panic, he threw himself from side to side, trying to escape those grasps, unsuccessfully.

No, they should all stay away!

With a wild lash, he finally freed one of his arms, slashing his claws across his attacker, unsure where he had hit, though sure he did, as he heard a scream of agony.

The remaining hands quickly ripped him backwards, and Omen struggled, slashing, hacking and biting again, and again, until no restraints remained on his aching body. He was breathing heavily, shaking, as his vision slowly cleared.

The first thing he saw was crimson, red, blood, everywhere. The floor, the walls, the bodies. The rush soon ended, and Omen could feel his self-inflicted wounds pounding. But that wasn’t what pained him the most.

The most agony he had ever felt crashed down on him, as he realized whose bodies lay there on the floor in front of him.

Cypher.

Desperately, Omen crawled forward, grabbing the Moroccan’s head, staring in disbelief of the deep claw marks across his throat. His white coat splattered in beautiful red, yet a horrifying image to him. His head shot around, staring at the other bodies.

Sova.

Decapitated, slashes across his eyes, his arms. His neck had been ripped apart by jaws stronger than any shark. Omen felt bile rise up in his throat. The bitter taste overpowered the smell and taste of blood, as he threw up blood and flesh, mixed with stomach acid all over the scenery.

Coughing, feeling even sicker than before, he slowly moved his gaze to the last body.

Brimstone.

So many slashes, his arms unnaturally twisted. Shivering, Omen crawled over to him too, too scared to lay his hands on him, scared his talons might hurt him even more. Dead, dead, all of them were dead, Omen didn’t want to believe it.

What had he done.