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#amazing art
allurahomeofbeauty · 2 months
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painting by andrea vallejo osterberg
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lilith-91 · 1 year
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Obi Wan vs Anakin
art by SATURN255
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retracexcviii · 17 days
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I cleanned volume 11 cards
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Hello thereee.
It has been ages since I did one of this edits/cleanings, but this two gave me a good reason to work again.
In case you didn't know: these are the extra Shikis that will come with volume 11 in Japan.
As usual, feel free to use as whatever and repost with credit.
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blackisdivine · 7 months
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Oh my God look at this fucking thing
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Anyone know where it is or who made it I'd much appreciate the info!
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ilikeit-art · 1 year
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dynamite124 · 7 months
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A commission I request of Taliesin! Art by @mi-reich
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writing-for-life · 2 months
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Lucifer Morningstar—Ebrahel Lurci
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kiraamell · 24 days
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Walking in a rainy forest ☔️🦆
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elitadream · 2 months
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Sorry you've been feeling poorly. Hope you feel better soon ❤️‍🩹
MY HEART. WHY, YOU INSANELY TALENTED AND CONSIDERATE HUMAN BEING-!!
Brb. Gotta go lie down and cry. (;﹏;)
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ponku-po · 1 year
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千雲九枭/fanzeem
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pumpkinmagekupo · 2 months
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Princess Bride: Aymeric?!
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Another amazing piece by the ever wonderful @erupan
a bonus art to the Rose Princess piece.
Aymeric as Westley from Princess Bride?!
I just.
I am deceased.
Look how PERFECT IT IS.
His SMILE. His soft hair. Gloves Sir you going to kill someone showing that much chest. Also high waist trousers (♡°▽°♡)
FLOOFY SHIRTS!!!
I'll just be dead over here.
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starryyskies · 4 months
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Hello I have only drawn Caine like... once but I ADORE the Mouths au so much I go so feral for monster shit so have this! ^-^
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WHAT DO WE WANT
FERAL CAINE WHEN DO WE WANT IT RIGHT FUCKIN NOW YES SIR
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Some fanon treats I feel would have been sweet to see on the requiem cafe menu. 🥞 🧁
Thanking @bilumiart for the cute commission art! 💕 💟
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blackisdivine · 8 months
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Royalty 👑
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virgo-dream · 8 months
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Flowing
based on this lovely post and @softest-punk’s ficlet on the reblogs. it scratched my brain so good I actually wrote something!!! this miracle took at least 76 lazari.
dreamling, t4t, fluff, all that good stuff. not beta’ed we die like Hob doesn’t yadda yadda yadda, idk how many words it’s 4:30am and I’m eepy and hungy wow
Dream’s fingers run over the keyboard on his laptop in a staccato rhythm. He feels his fingers clicking against each individual key clumsily, almost as if for a moment, he’d forgotten how words should be strung together. He hits the backspace, once, twice, holds it like he means to suffocate the words on the screen. Like they scare him, like his chest is being torn open by a fictional claw.
It’s not flowing, he tells himself. It hasn’t been flowing for a while now.
Still, he pushes through, typing away, forcing the words out, until a hand much warmer and steadier than his own reaches out, stopping Dream in his tracks.
“Dove, I can hear the cogs turning in your head. What’s the matter? You’ve been jumpy all day.”
Dream’s eyes stay focused on the screen, and time starts to dilate in his mind. He’s not sure why, but his chest tightens. He’s not sure if he’s ready to bring a name to that feeling either. Still, it’s impossible not to look at Hob, whose expression is full of warmth and kindness, and unlike Dream, seems to have his chest open and ready to bring his wreck of a lover into an embrace.
Hob wears the scars on his chest like a badge of honour. A body of his own making, a body Dream could sense from afar even before Hob had started growing into it.
“I… I’m not sure.” The words to describe his anxiety are there, Dream knows that. He’s trying to reach out for them, but he falls short.
Hob’s lips curl into a soft smile as he carefully reaches for the computer resting on Dream’s lap. “That’s alright. But maybe you’ve done enough writing for today. No point in frying your brain like that.”
Dream feels his heart climb up to his throat, hands gripping the sides of the laptop as if his life depended on it. “—I’ll stop. You’re right. There’s nothing more I can put on the page for now.” He shuts the laptop down, pulling it away from Hob and placing it on the nightstand.
He’s got nothing to hide from Hob. He’s got plenty to hide from himself. Dream can tell from how Hob’s eyebrows raise that whatever it is, he’s going to have to face it sooner rather than later.
“…ooookay. I wasn’t going to look, you know? I only want to read what you want to show me.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Silence fills the room as Dream and Hob look at each other. He can tell Hob is not going to push, but oh, how Dream wishes he would. Maybe a push is just what he needs. Maybe Hob is the only person who can do it for him.
Dream looks at Hob’s chest once more. Open, welcoming, light. Free. At his eyes, loving, wanting, sincere. At his arms, reaching out for Dream, wanting to bring him closer, to protect him, to give him strength. “Duck, is there anything you—“
“—could you use they for me sometimes? I don’t think I’m… I don’t think I’m a he. All the time. Maybe.”
Silence now sucks the air out of Dream’s lungs. They stare at each other as his— their words move through both Dream and Hob’s brains. For a split second, Dream feels a surge of fear and shame, the horrifying possibility that everything went wrong and somehow a line was crossed. A line he cannot possibly ignore now.
Before he can dive into any more assumptions, Hob’s arms are around him in a firm embrace, almost crushing. A hand goes to rest on the back of their hair, fingers tangling with the soft, dark strands. Hob holds Dream like they are the most precious thing to ever exist. “—oh duck, I’ll call you whatever makes you feel good. Thank you for trusting me, I know how difficult this is. Thank you, Dream. I love you.”
Hob’s words feel like a soothing balm to Dream’s crumpled chest, that now opens up as they take a breath, as if the weight of the world had finally been lifted off their shoulders. Hob’s embrace feels like permission, like comprehension, like support. And love, so much love, so much that Dream doesn’t know what to do with it other than let their hands go to Hob’s softly stubbled cheeks and direct his face to meet Dream’s in the middle, lips crashing clumsily at first.
When Dream opens their eyes again, they are rimmed with tears. It’s okay, though. Hob would not denounce him for crying. Hob accepts it, celebrates their moments of emotional release.
“I know. It’s scary. You did something very big right now. I’m proud of you.” Hob presses a gentle kiss to Dream’s forehead, and doesn’t let of them. Dream is not bothered by it, in fact settling into Hob’s arms, like their bodies were always meant to rest against one another.
Dream wonders if Hob knew all along, like they somehow sensed Hob’s truth years before it came to light.
The next morning, their words are flowing again.
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