#was sketch then turned into a bit more than a sketch

[drawcupidsbow]

happy birthday isat :)

this took me Wayyyy longer than i thought it would so thats why its a bit late.. ehheh.... i really like how it turned out though !! extra stuff under the cut

okay. okay im gonna get a bit sappy here. bear (🐻) with me

isat has very quickly become my favorite game of all time which is not an exaggeration. never have i played a game that felt so real in its dialogue, characterization, and character interactions. it makes it so easy to relate to them all and so difficult to pick just One favorite. it cured my art block watered my crops fed my family etc etc. i had originally bought it nearly a year ago now. on christmas day to be specific! and for some reason i didnt actually Finish the damn thing until may. and whew did it consume my every waking thought. i havent had this much fun theorizing and being part of a fandom in general in so so long. thank you adrienne for making such a wonderful game and thank you isat fandom for being so kind and friendly! i actually feel like i can make an effort to have a presence here more than anywhere else and i hope i can become closer with all my mutuals and anyone else who wants to talk about isat with me for one million years

okay enough Heres the art you came here for

first time in like. actual years i did sketch then lineart instead of just cleaning up the sketch a bunch LOL so here is the sketch for this one

the dreaded lineart. this took the longest time and i never want to draw again (joke)

self explanatory. i had an idea to add loop but do Not have the energy to execute it currently. oh well!

if you read my big big paragraph of rambling thank you :3c That is all. Im gonna go take a break from drawing for a day or two and lay on the floor

[glitteringdust]

Lucanis and Spite's reaction to Rook being trapped in the Regret prison, or, if someone already asked that, romanced Lucanis having to tell Viago (massive older brother vibes) that Crow!Rook is stuck in the Regret prison

Standing in the entrance of Rook's room, Lucanis closes his eyes.

For a moment, he swears he feels her right there— sitting on the couch, curled over her notebook making a sketch of something she couldn't get out of her head.

The room still smells of cinnamon spice from the incense she always had burning on the far dresser. Her clothes would be everywhere, along with loose notes and bits of potion ingredients scattered about.The fade window of swimming fish would remind him of the Ossuary like it always did— sending a sour storm of adrenaline straight to his chest. Only by Rook's sweet face murmuring soft reassurances would he return to the present, back in her presence.

The moment passes and he knows what he will see when he opens his eyes. Nothing is as it should be.

Rook is gone. Gone. Betrayed by Solas.

Spite bristles along his spine at the thought. Lucanis clenches a fist as he battles the demon's anger as well as his own. For once, they were both equally powerless to rescue her.

We find her. We find Rook.

Spite was angry more than anything else, bleeding into Lucanis' every thought. He wanted revenge, action… something to stab and kill and as far as the demon was concerned the team was doing nothing at all.

But they had no choice, so all they could do was bide their time, recoup their resources and figure out a plan to find Rook.

—

In the fleeting moments he's able to close his eyes and sleep, he still sees the flash of light in his dreams. A bright flash, Rook's horrified voice shouting his name, and then nothing. It was unnerving, seeing it over and over again. Spite seemed almost as incapacitated by the dreams as Lucanis was.

Emmrich once said spirits could experience intense mood shifts during stress, perhaps that was the reason why he kept bringing Lucanis' sleeping body to Rook's room. To feel better.

She always made things better.

Ever since she disappeared, everything around them had dampened. Colors, taste… all of it was muffled without her around. Was she even alive? How could they know? They killed one god, and faced two more. Who could say she hadn’t been vaporized by Solas?

No. I feel her.

“You feel her because this is her room, Spite. You don't know that she lives.”

You give up?

"Never. Not until I see her body."

There's a feeling of approval. Never again lose what's ours.

He should leave her room, if he plans to get anything done today. He needs to travel to Treviso still, update Teia and Viago about Rook. He'd already waited a week too long. He knows the conversation might end up with Viago trying to kill him, but they needed to know. They were her only other family, after all. As he turns to go, he spots a loose piece of paper peeking out from under the couch. Spite urges him to pick it up, stronger than ever.

It's a sketch of himself, outlined in purple. Underneath, the words vhenan as well as the following:

“Say it, before it's too late.”

He thinks to the night before she disappeared, how she'd come for their usual evening drink but was preoccupied. Nervous. Surely she was just anxious about the next day's events, but instead….

She loves him.

He told her not to make a promise she couldn't keep, yet here he was having broken the last half of his. He didn't keep her safe that day.

Should she not return, every blighted creature would feel his blade.

[twost3ps]

Hii so I have a question to mike; is he like really well built or is he a twink? Or maybe both? And is he like..adams main man? oh and btw I love army leader Mike, I NEED MORE🫶🫶 you draw so well I hope you have a great day and week and month and year and life👍👍

Aww thank you!! No Mike is not a twink lololol he’s pretty decently built. Pre fall of Lucifer him is significantly skinnier or twinkish I guess but he’d fit in more as a twunk than anything

I did a little sketch comparison for show between the triplets. I hope it’s a bit clear lol

Lucy is a twink, Gabriel is bulky and Michael falls into the middle of it

He can shift his form just like Lucifer. The triplets all have the ability to do so for my headcanon but they are experts in certain fields of it. Lucifer can turn into animals and creatures, Gabriel can take on less physical forms like the air, shadows, water and ground, and Michael can turn into objects like weaponry. But they’re really good at manipulating their own bodies so Michael could turn really skinny or buff if he wanted to. For battle his form takes on more of a herculean look to it. It’s supposed to be intimidating and he gains a beard, height and longer hair lol kinda think a mix of spartan warrior and Viking. It’s not his true form but it does get angels bones rattling. He also has a secret 3rd elusive form which is just a sword.

However most of the time Michael likes to stay small and behind the scenes. Gabriel takes the rails when it comes to being the leader and main face but Michael does his own thinb in the background. His clothes are slightly bigger than him and make him look small. They’re also in shades of blue, white, and gold and while that may seem flashy, they blend with with heavens overall color pallet. When the archangels appear for big ceremonies and stuff he’s usually in the back of everyone

But tldr in some cases he looks skinnier because of the clothes he wears and it’s on purpose

As for being Adam main man, I mean… Adam doesn’t tell his favorites but um, there are signs

[zerun0]

"More Than Flesh" —Trans!Viktor x Y/N (Female)

English is not my first language. Feel free to comment on any of my mistakes and i will update the post, also I am more than happy to receive suggestions, and advice on how to improve my work. — ! WARNING NSFW(+18): ! — Sexual themes, FTM, Trans!Viktor, Sex, Flirting, Making out, Teasing, Strap on, Vaginal. — Word count: — 2.5k (Full uncut version on AO3)

The golden light of a Piltovian morning poured into Viktor’s academy dormitory, casting long beams across the desk cluttered with blueprints, notebooks, and mechanical parts. His side of the room was as orderly as his mind, each piece meticulously placed, yet the evidence of late-night brainstorming sessions was everywhere.

A crumpled scrap of paper here, a half-finished sketch pinned haphazardly there. The faint scent of ink, metal, and oil lingered in the air, mingling with the cool freshness of the morning.

You sat cross legged on the edge of Viktor’s bed, holding the tube of testosterone gel in your hands. He stood near the window, shirtless, letting the morning sun warm his skin. His chest bore the faint, pale lines of his top surgery scars, a quiet testament to the journey he’d undertaken to become himself. The scars didn’t take away from his sharp beauty; they added to it, each line a piece of his story. You couldn’t help but, Admire him. “You’ve been staring,”— Viktor teased, his accented voice carrying a warmth that broke the stillness. He glanced over his shoulder at you, a playful smile touching his lips. — “Have I suddenly become fascinating?”

“Always” — You said, patting the space in front of you. — “...You have always been”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he moved toward you with a slight limp, his cane tapping softly against the floor. Viktor rarely asked for help, but in these small, quiet moments, he trusted you without hesitation. He settled onto the bed facing you, the sunlight catching the faint freckles on his shoulders.

“You could probably manage this yourself,” — you said, squeezing a small drop of the gel onto your fingers, — “but where’s the fun in that without my top-notch care?” Viktor huffed a quiet laugh, leaning forward slightly to give you better access. — “I’m not certain what I’d do without your boundless expertise,” — he said, his tone teasing but affectionate.

Gently, you spread the gel across the top of his shoulders, making sure to wear gloves of course, your fingers gliding over his skin with care. His shoulders tensed briefly at the coolness of the gel before relaxing under your touch.

You worked in slow, even strokes, mindful of applying it evenly. You couldn’t help but linger there for a moment, tracing the lines with reverence, you didn’t try to hide your soft gaze upon his scars, they are beautiful.

So beautiful… “You’re staring again,” — Viktor murmured, his voice softer this time.

“Can you blame me?” — you replied, pressing your palm flat against his chest for a moment, grounding him and yourself in the connection. — “These are part of you, Viktor. Every bit of you is worth admiring.”

He turned his head slightly, just enough for you to catch the faintest smile curving his lips. — “You’re hopeless,” — he said, though the words were filled with warmth.

“Hopelessly in love,” — you corrected, reaching for a tissue to wipe your hands. — “Alright, all set. Don’t put your shirt on for a bit, okay?”

“Do I look so impatient?” — he asked, standing slowly, steadying himself with his cane. He stretched his arms a little, testing his range of motion.

“Not impatient, just eager to get back to saving the world,” — you teased, leaning back on your hands as you watched him move to the window. Viktor stood there for a moment, the golden light catching the faint sheen of the gel still drying on his shoulders. His profile was striking, the curve of his jaw, the softness in his lips, and the quiet confidence that lingered in his every movement.

“You give me far too much credit,” — he murmured, his voice low, almost as if he were speaking to himself. He glanced over his shoulder at you, his gaze warm and lingering. — “You’re the one who makes any of it feel... worth it.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, tugging at something deep inside you. Rising from the bed, you crossed the room to him, your steps unhurried but purposeful. When you reached him, you slid your arms around his waist from behind, resting your palms on his stomach and leaning into the warmth of his back. Viktor stiffened briefly, more out of habit than discomfort, before melting into your touch.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” — you whispered.

He exhaled softly, one hand coming to rest atop yours where it lay against his stomach. — “You always find the words to disarm me,” — he admitted, his voice tinged with a vulnerability he rarely let show. He turned slightly in your embrace, his golden eyes locking onto yours. — “How do you manage that?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” — you murmured, your voice barely above a breath. You raised your hand to trace the faint line of his jaw, thumb brushing his cheek as you leaned in closer. — “Every time I look at you, I feel like I’m the one who’s been undone.”

Viktor tilted his head, leaning into your touch, his eyes half-lidded as his gaze flickered between your eyes and lips. — “Then perhaps we’re equally guilty,” — he said softly, his voice a low murmur.

Your breath hitched as his fingers, calloused from hours of tinkering, caressed the side of your neck, pulling you closer. The kiss, when it came, was slow and deliberate, the kind that unraveled you bit by bit. Viktor wasn’t the type to rush; his lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your knees feel weak. His free hand found your waist, steadying you, his touch firm yet, so gentle.

The sensation of his skin against yours sent a shiver down your spine, the faint scars beneath your fingers grounding you in the reality of this moment.

Delicately, he walked you backward until the edge of the bed pressed against the backs of your thighs. His kisses trailed down your jaw, then to the soft curve of your neck. He paused there, his breath warm against your skin as he lingered, his nose brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear. The way he held you, firm yet so achingly careful, made your chest swell with desire, love, trust, and the understanding that this moment was as significant to him as it was to you.

As you sank down onto the bed, Viktor placed his cane aside and followed, his movements deliberate, as if savoring every second. His weight settled gently over you, his hands bracketing your sides, his gaze fixed on you with intensity. The sunlight streaming through the window painted his features in soft gold, highlighting the faint freckles across his nose and the sheen of his top surgery scars.

Your fingers found the waistband of his pants, hesitating slightly. Viktor’s hand covered yours, his touch steady as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Slow,” — he murmured, his voice a quiet plea. — “I want to savor this.”

You nodded, your chest tightening from the tenderness in his words. Together, you moved in a silent accord, peeling away the layers of fabric that separated you. Each piece of clothing removed felt like shedding the weight of the world. Now bare and unguarded, your hands roamed over his body, tracing his hips, then down the gentle line of his clit. He shivered under your touch.

Viktor leaned into you, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes, molten gold in the dim light, searched yours with a mixture of trust and vulnerability. He whispered, his voice low, — “You don’t have to rush... do only what you’re comfortable with.”

“Viktor,” — you said softly, cupping his face with both hands. — “This is about both of us. I want to love all of you…, if you’re ready.”

His lips parted slightly, and he nodded, the corners of his mouth curving into a faint, shy smile. — “With you... I am.”

You smooched him, then reached to the bedside drawer, where the two of you had stored the strap and some lubricant you’d discussed before. Viktor had been nervous at first, self-conscious about being exposed in this way. But he trusted you, and the way he watched you now, steady and focused, made your heart swell.

You reached out to brush your fingers against his cheek, your touch light as a feather. — “Let me help,” — you whispered.

He nodded again, his breath hitching slightly as you moved with careful intention. Your fingers tremble slightly as you moisturize both parts of the strap.

You helped him fit the toy into place, its inner part blending with ease inside his cunt, as Viktor muffed his moans with his bare hands. The outer part was secured by the straps around his hips. Once everything was adjusted, he leaned against the pillows, gaze locked on yours, filled with a mix of anticipation and affection.

“How does it feel?” —you asked softly, your hand resting on his thigh, offering him a moment to acclimate.

He exhaled slowly, his lips curving into a faint, nervous smile. — “Strange,” —he admitted, his accent thickened by his nerves.— “But... good. It feels good.”

You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lips, slow and deliberate, as if to remind him that you were here with him, every step of the way. His hands slid to your waist as you kissed, pulling you closer until you were straddling his lap. The warmth of his skin beneath your palms, was a contrast to the cold and moist piece on his strap.

Viktor’s hands guided your movements, lifting you slightly so he could position himself. You both paused for a moment, your foreheads touching as you breathed in unison.

As you lowered yourself onto him, the sensation was slow and deliberate, each movement measured, as if you were discovering a new language together. Viktor’s breath hitched sharply, his hands steadying you as you adjusted to the new sensation. His golden eyes flicked to yours, searching for any sign of discomfort, but all he found was the same love and desire reflected back at him.

“It’s cold, but… It feels good” — you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as you began to move, finding a rhythm together.

Viktor’s response was a quiet moan, his hands guiding your hips as you moved. As the inner part moved inside his cunt in synchrony to the outer part inside yours.

“You’re beautiful,” —he murmured, his voice trembling as his lips found your collarbone, pressing kisses to your skin. — “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

You cupped his face, tilting his head up so he had no choice but to meet your gaze. —“You deserve everything, Viktor,” you said firmly, voice full of conviction. —“And I love you.”

“I love you too” — He replied with no hesitation, as you continued to ride on his lap, driving you both to madness, to ecstasy, to your limits. — “Darling…”

You stopped riding his lap, your body trembled, craving more, so much more. You looked up at Viktor, your eyes searching his, silently asking for what you both needed.

“Lay back,” — Viktor murmured against your lips, his voice low and breathy, yet laced with determination.

You nodded, allowing him to guide you with a careful but steady touch. Viktor shifted, gently easing you into the bed while he followed, his weight pressing down against you just enough to be grounding but never overwhelming. His hand trailed down your side, fingers brushing over the curve of your waist as he adjusted himself between your thighs.

“Is this okay?” — he asked, his gaze searching yours even as his hand came to rest on your thigh.

“Perfect,” — you whispered, threading your fingers into his hair, pulling him down for another kiss.

He adjusted his hips slightly, the toy now perfectly positioned as he guided himself into you once more. The new angle made you gasp softly, the sensation intense yet intoxicating. Viktor’s head dipped to your neck, his lips brushing along your skin as he began to move.

Viktor’s hands found yours, his fingers interlocking with yours as he pressed them against the bed. — “Tell me how you feel,”— he murmured against your neck.

“Like I never want this to end,” —you replied, breathless as you tilted your head to give him better access.

He groaned softly at your words, his lips trailing down to your collarbone, leaving warm, open-mouthed kisses in his wake. As he moved, the pace quickened slightly, his confidence growing with every sound you made. The room was filled with the quiet symphony of your moans, your shared breaths, soft gasps, and the gentle creak of the bed beneath you.

You arched your back, your body pressing against his as the tension between you built higher and higher. Viktor released one of your hands, sliding his palm down to rest on your thigh, lifting your leg slightly to deepen the angle. The shift sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you cried out.

The sound seemed to spur him on, his movements becoming more deliberate, each thrust drawing you closer to the edge. His lips found yours again, his kiss hungry and consuming. “Vik, I love you, I love you so much,” —you breathed, your words mingling with his senseless whispers as the tension finally snapped, sending you both tumbling over the edge together.

Viktor’s movements slowed as he rode out the waves of your release, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips. When he finally stilled, he stayed there, body pressing into yours.

After a moment, he shifted, removing himself from your insides as he rolled onto his side and pulled you with him so you were tucked against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, his hand stroking your back gently as the two of you caught your breath.

“You’re remarkable,” — Viktor murmured, his lips caressing your temple. —“You make me feel... like I can be myself, completely.”

You looked up at him, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. — “That’s all I ever want, for you to feel safe…”

He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before resting his chin atop your head. As the quiet of the room enveloped you both. Wrapped in Viktor’s embrace, you felt an overwhelming sense of contentment, knowing that this moment, like the love you shared, was truly one of a kind.

After a few beats of comfortable silence, Viktor's fingers, playful as ever, gently caressing against your side. You flinched at the sudden sensation, giggling as you squirmed. —“Viktor, stop!” — you laughed, but his fingers only found a new, ticklish spot along your ribs.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” — he said, voice dripping with mischief. —“Did I tickle you?” — His grin widened as he gently pinned your arms, his lips stroking over your cheek as he peppered tiny kisses along your skin, causing your laughter to bubble up uncontrollably.

Between gasps for breath, you managed to wiggle free and lock your arms around his neck, pulling him closer for a kiss that was as soft and teasing as the moment itself.

Finally, after a breathless pause, you smiled and pulled back slightly, your eyes sparkling with affection. —“Can we get coffee now?” — you asked, your voice light and sweet.

“Anything you want,” — Viktor agreed, his voice low and affectionate, as he took a nibble of your ear.

— Thank you for my friends R&S for helping me out with this one —— The Hexstrap is real —

[doesephs]

jean moreau has endured more than the entirety of france collectively

[wasyago]

on a lunch break

[yunyin]

This was my original Loveybug sketch, but when I was finishing it, it just wasn't working for me! I like it as is, but I think the other one worked out for the best.

[sad-leon]

(good future) Finding Home Pride edition <3

Trans Leo pride is something I see a lot, but personally, FH Leo wouldn't celebrate his gender. He grew up around Gali, who went through a lot of gender struggles, especially in his younger years, and with the brothers being so accepting, it's just another part of his life

But his lack of romantic attraction? That's something that stands out to him. He sees the brothers with their own attractions and crushes and such and realizes he stands out. He's different. But that's okay because he's still him and he's still valid

anyways~ it's pride month, which means i get to be even more annoying about aro pride ^-^

that final shot without text:

[caeslxys]

revelations your flesh

[layalu]

so i uhhhh. started PoE

[fatedroses]

I draw a sketch to simply offer my own personal little headcanon and theory that Zenos was the only other descendant Emet got close to (knowing him probably unintentionally) besides Lucius.

Obviously we never see them interact directly, but several little worldbuilding tidbits do make me ponder about certain things, like the possibility lorewise that it could've been Emet that named Zenos, and the fact that they share certain habits and potentially interests.

[vickysaurus-art]

Shifty with the princesses as minis update! Today I inked the prettiest princess of them all, and Damsel too.

[ganondoodle]

chapter 2 rough draft wip (✿◡‿◡)

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Dess from the Deltarune comic Looking Glasses by @ferronickel, I loved her design at first sight so here's the promised fanart; check out the original comic! It's very much worth the read :D

[wolfram-but-art]

Gillion is fucking dead crabrave

hey, here's a couple zoom-ins because i'm pround of my damn work okay

[sysig]

It’s not going away, so get used to it! (Patreon)