#Just finished the game in one night

[chloesimaginationthings]

If Vanny is in the digital circus.. where’s Pomni?

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 4: Deranged Bedfellows

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.5)

[icewindandboringhorror]

I made a few new wax seal stamps out of clay (like the ones I did for my worldbuilding stuff forever ago), this time just of random symbols that I thought might look good done in the style of painting over the raised part of the wax or etc. :0c Some of them aren't carved deep enough to really show up that well, but overall they worked okay for being clay lol

[habken]

in my head the bakugou couple is like ‘this is our girlfriend rei and our wife inko and her boyfriend toshinori who we have been inviting over for a suspicious amount of dinners but he doesn’t get the hint-’

I love when more and more people get added into the relationship, like we could start our own soccer team at this point

[caluupin]

Finished TGAAC around 2 1/2 weeks ago but only finished the doodles today. but still, here ya go!

[demigod-of-the-agni]

A DEVIL REBORN

Happy Halloween!!! A detailed ID will be placed under the cut (it's close to being 1K i could literally post this to Ao3)

p1. ड्याम्म (dyamma) - Nepali for "(feeling) full", "hitting something"

p3. Chutiya - Hindi for "idiot", "moron" and other related insults

p5. க்ரீச் (kreech) - Tamil onomatopoeia describing scraping/screeching sounds

[Extended Image ID: DYAMMA! Slamming his hands on a table, Achanba Okram finds himself in the darkness of his laboratory. He is wearing black clothes and a white lab coat on top, and has a bowl cut with rectangular glasses.

His thoughts whirl within boxes that are coloured gold and are outlined with red; they put a voice to the uneasy feelings Okram knows are stirring inside of him. The thought boxes read:

With Pavitr gone, I finally have time to string my thoughts together. Half-drowned answers bleed out of my pores. Coalescing like some great, abysmal creature of unknown origin.

Bracing his hands against the table, Okram is acutely aware of his body, of the gaping holes in his back that bubble with demonic energy. His thoughts narrate, My body quakes when I begin to question, wracked with paranoia. With dread, as if the idea of what I had to face was unbearable.

The holes in back — four of them, spaced evenly from each other — begin to ooze golden liquid, hot like fire and viscous like tar.

And yet, Okram thinks, I felt it all the same: that crawling, scintillating horror of my reality. Of my tainted flesh and blood. My being here is the work of demonic forces.

Golden arms, fluid yet bony, powered by some otherworldly thing, unravel from the void in his back. They flounder and expand around him, filling the lab with a cold glow. The fingers are tipped with talons, and, if he looked hard enough, Okram swears they are edged with blood.

I died years ago, Okram thinks. I lost my humanity to the fire of the devil's madness. Thus, the question remains: what is the future of Achanba Okram, a DEVIL REBORN?

The lights of the lab suddenly brighten, and Okram hears him before he sees him. His arms register the presence of the other person, immediately unraveling and slipping out of reality. Just outside, Pavitr Prabhakar's voice calls, "HEY, DOCTOR OKRAM! Sorry I'm late! Traffic was abysmal today."

Pavitr's entrance catches Okram by surprise, and he stutters out, "PAVITR?! You- ah- you have one of your shifts today?"

His thoughts reprimand him, You CHUTIYA! Pavitr always has his shifts on Tuesdays!

Pavitr is unaware of Okram's turmoil, sauntering into the laboratory while hefting up a white plastic bag. He's wearing a black and white flannel shirt, and he has circular earrings. Pavitr's eyes are trained on the bag in his hand. He answers Okram's question with, "Yeah, I do. I, uh, got a little hungry along the way (I'm always so hungry)." Pavitr whispers the last part as he lifts the bag up. He continues, "so I went and bought some vada pav, and—"

He suddenly pauses, his eyes locking onto Okram. He can't tell what is going beyond Pavitr's eyes, but the other man's analysing gaze unnerves Okram to a degree beyond description.

(In Pavitr's POV: his Spider-Sense was just triggered. Red and gold squiggly lines emanate from and surround his head in a halo.)

Pavitr lowers the bag slightly in concern. "Uhm," Pavitr says "are you okay, Doctor?"

Dread and fear floods Okram's system. Suddenly he is hyperaware of everything in the room, including the golden arm that has sprouted from his back and was lying on the workbench behind him, right in Pavitr's line of sight.

Play dumb! Okram's mind screams at him. Accordingly, Okram replies, a tad too tightly, "Of course I am, Pavitr! Why wouldn't I be?"

KREECH. The golden arm scrapes its taloned fingers across the table, no doubt giving away its location.

Okram chuckles nervously, sweating almost immediately, at which his mind howls, Not that dumb!

Pavitr narrows his eyes at Okram and at the golden arm on the workbench. "Are those...demonic arms?" he asks Okram, a shadow crossing his face.

(In Pavitr's POV: In the back of his mind, Pavitr sees a vague and faded image forming in response to seeing the arms. He remembers Doctor Octopus, the man with two extra sets of arms who had attacked him many years ago; he was one of the first villains Pavitr fought as Spider-Man. But... Doctor Octopus died a long time ago. Perhaps...?)

"Oh, Doctor..."

Pavitr's gaze softens as he asks, "Are you being haunted by demons? Have you been attacked by them? Why didn't you tell me? I'm so sorry this has been happening to you. I can't imagine how stressful this is for you." A moment, and then, "Do you want to talk about?"

Okram hides his face in his hands, quickly responding, "No, I'm alright, Pavitr."

Pavitr walks forward, placing his bag down and reaching down to place a reassuring hand on Okram's shoulder. "But, Doctor, men of your generation have ignored their mental health for too long."

"Yes, I know," Okram sighs.

"It'll be okay, Doctor," Pavitr promises, "we can figure something out!"

"And what?" Okram asks somewhat sarcastically. "You will be here with me 'every step of the way'?"

"One hundred percent!" Pavitr says.

Behind them, one of Okram's demonic arms reaches out to peer at Pavitr and Okram; if an arm could be happy, it certainly was. The arm is seemingly pleased with Pavitr's helpful and understanding nature. /.End ID]

[nyoomfruits]

trick or treat! :D

i saw your url and i was like. wait i have something probably so !!! lestappen snippet :D

Charles puts a halt to that insane train of through and puts on the sweatpants, the nondescript black t-shirt, and then nearly drops the light blue hoodie Max had handed him when he unfolds it.

“I thought I said no obnoxious Red Bull stuff,” he grumbles, stomping back into the living and brandishing the light blue monstrosity at Max like a weapon.

“Yeah?” Max says. “So? That’s hardly obnoxious.”

Charles unfolds it and holds it up. The word ‘SPIELBERG’ is printed across the back in large white letters, Max and Checo’s names smaller underneath it along with the Red Bull logo. The front has the Red Bull logo and the word ‘Spielberg’ again, smaller this time. “How is this not obnoxious,” Charles says, a little indignantly.

“Spielberg is a lovely little village in Austria, I don’t see the big deal here,” Max says, feigning an innocence that heavily contradicts the shit eating grin on his face. “Listen, I only just got home, all my non branded hoodies are in the laundry,” he adds, a little more seriously. “It’s either this one, or a classic dark blue Red Bull one which I think you would find even more obnoxious, so.”

Charles considers the third option, which is not wearing the hoodie at all, but the material in his hands is thick and soft, and he’s still shivering a little. “I’ll take Spielberg,” he says, a little primly, and pulls the hoodie over his head.

Max is grinning at him when Charles looks at him again. “You look good in blue,” he says, shuffling over the couch to make room for Charles to flop down.

“Fuck off,” Charles tells him, but settles down on the couch anyway. The hoodie is surprisingly comfortable, not that he’s ever telling Max that. “This does not leave this house,” Charles adds, pointing at Max warningly as Max starts messing around with the remote of the TV, pulling up Netflix.

“Oh please,” Max says, “Like anyone would ever believe me if I told them Charles Leclerc was on my couch in a Red Bull hoodie watching crappy Netflix reality shows.”

“We’re not watching-“ Charles starts, only to be interrupted by the TV playing obnoxiously loud pop music. He glances back at it only to see the opening credits of Selling Sunset. Charles raises an eyebrow. “Or maybe we are.”

[esaari]

honk

[seraphirism]

Butler’s Cruise Vacation - Event story backgrounds + Muu’s outfit!

[vowofbrotherhood]

quick mid game sketch

[secretsimpleness]

Is Kesten a kinda stick-in-the-mud who probably works way too much? Yeah. Did I like him from the very first moment he was introduced? Yeah...

The (newly!) Baroness, Kesten Garess / Pathfinder Kingmaker (c) Owlcat Games

[nwarrior777]

me, looking at animation in my game, which is Dramatically Animated Square: game industry will be destroyed by this and humanity saved

[xylathesilkwing]

Alan Wake 1 enemies: spooky! occasional jumpscare! Just gotta shine them with my light and take them down do do do

Alan Wake 2: why do they bleed.

[yshtal]

I think it would be rly sick if you went to go build a crow rook and the surname was Arainai

like…. just another little compradi trying to bring glory back to your house - rinnala and taliesin are dead by the house’s hand, zevran failed and deserted, guili murdered in the night, all semblance of power lost once again. the house is trying to claw its way back up, futile as it seems. that’s the way of house arainai, isn’t it? talon to knife to talon to knife to nothing, same as it’s been since the house first lost power in the early dragon age. but you, bright-eyed little crow, you’ll break the cycle, won’t you? for the family?

after all, caterina’s prized heir is right there - the demon of vyrantium, the infamous mage killer, sleeping just down the hall. you can be quiet, can’t you? all those means at your disposal, and all the opportunities you could want. you could find a way in under that armor, get to something soft and bruisable and make it bleed. he’s far from home, isn’t he? without a friend? confidantes are few and far between - even a demon must get lonely.

maybe he’d even trust you. you’re a clever little bird, right? you can find something to exploit. after all, what does a would-be talon do except claw, except maim? what else would you be good for? there is no gentleness to crows - you are here to deliver a message: run, little demon, quick as you like.

house arainai will make carrion of you yet.

[r7inyz]

COUGHS hi

[caluupin]

been catching up on TGAA/DGS !! :D