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Started this one afew months back and decided to come back and finish it quick

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lost in waves

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Can you make something good again please.

Aw anon! I didn’t mean to be such a disappointment of an artist to you. Here you go

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Alfred: Timothy Jackson Drake. Tim: Full name....omg, am I going to die? Dick: It was nice knowing you Timmy. Damian: Don't lie to a dead man walking, Richard. Timothy, your existence in our lives was ambivalent at best. Tim: Thank you for your honesty, Dami. It's a comfort in my final moments. Alfred: Stop being so dramatic; you won't die today. I'm not mad; I'm disappointed in you. Tim wince: That's far worse. What did I do? Alfred: It's more like what you didn't do. Why is it that every morning, you do not find the five minutes it takes to make your bed? Tim: *confused* What do you mean? Alfred: Your bedroom is usually spotless, but you never fix your blankets or your pillows, and it makes everything look awful. I have tried to ignore it, in the hope that you will learn some responsibility, but I can no longer stand it. Tim: But I've never done my bed. It's always been done for me. Alfred: Whatever servants you had at Drake Manor are not here- Tim: I never had servants. It was just my parents, and most of the time, they weren't even in the country. I mean, the housekeeper came by every three days or so, but she never went into my room. Alfred: Wait, if you didn't make your bed and there were no servants to make it, then how was it done? Tim: It made itself, duh. Dick: Would you like to expand on that answer for the class, Timmy? Tim: Come on Dick you know what I mean. The sheets move on their own and tuck themselves in, or the pillows constantly rearrange themselves. Sometimes, on a cold night, the blankets will emerge from the closet and wrap around you. Every day, bedroom stuff. Dick: Damian: Timothy, I believe you were being haunted as a child. Tim: What? Alfred: Did anyhing else stop happening when you moved out of your old home? Tim snapping his fingers: Now that you mention it, nothing whispers in my ears anymore. Dick: You were hearing whispers!? Tim: It was mostly gibbersish and hisses so I always ingored it. The ghost should have learn to not mutter. Danny, reading their lips from the Drake Manor window using binoculars: Well, excuse me for having a speaking impediment.

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KNIGHTS OF GOTHAM By comic artist, Sebastián Píriz

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those “monkey brain/human brain” posts except the monkey brain is presented as the rational one

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went out to look for a reason to hide again

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the kiss of judas

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(hypnotizes you into liking my oc) (she has no lore)

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Horangi + König

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König: Do you want to explain the text you sent me last night? Horangi: It was autocorrect. König: Autocorrect wrote "You're so hot. Please step on me."? Horangi: Yes….

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tiger balm always works

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Some general character reference sheets I made some time ago

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sorry for disappearing… whoops?

könig who goes MIA for months, they have absolutely no idea where he is since they lost communication with him on a simple search and rescue mission. he was presumed dead after the first few weeks. horangi was always a strong man, but the ‘death’ of his lover hit him hard, harder than he would ever like to imagine.

one night horangi sits outside smoking a cigarette. könig would usually swat it out of his hand and scold him for damaging his lungs, but he wasn’t here right now. no one was here right now.

que könig watching him from the tree line, mutated beyond recognition, who has been stalking him for weeks.

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Social-anxiety bf asked his small bf to order food for him