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#drawn with a finger
azucarera-art · 1 year
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went back to my old trad art style + value study with this handsome devil (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)
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lattescribble · 18 days
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how Cure actually ended.
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viveela · 4 months
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A style comic I just had to get out of my system
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memphyy · 5 months
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those golden days
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54625 · 24 days
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ah, dreaming of being a bisexual farmer with both arms
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 5 months
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+3 friendship with Jin Ling: He actively tries to dissuade you from further embroiling yourself in the homosexual allegations.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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yeahiguess3232 · 1 month
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inspired by a drawing trend I've been seeing on some platforms, as always i think of Glenn first....
But the real question is does he have the brain power to recognize himself in the mirror? /j
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turnipoddity · 7 months
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ummm ok (yall can take the test here)
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theslimeologist · 1 month
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can we take a moment and ask what happened here? like what did they do to her??
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oh.
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uncanny-tranny · 5 months
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The thing that gets me about history and humanity is that you never know what is immortalized, and the things that will be immortalized are things you would never think.
I saw a person sharing a new tattoo, and it was one of Onfim's drawings. A boy who lived so long ago he is barely a blip now, but his drawings meant so much to people that somebody is now permanently marked in their skin with one of those drawings. Do you ever look at the things you make and just sit there and wonder if this is the thing that future people look at? Do you ever look at your art, your writing, your schoolwork, or anything that is yours and just wonder who will find it, who will fall in love with a piece of your humanity and become overwhelmed with emotion over? It's not unlikely. It's not totally unlikely that somebody will find a piece of you in the distant future and devoid of any other context of who you were will still love you because you were here. You were here, and you are still here, even hundreds or thousands of years later. Treat yourself with the same love that so many have for dear Onfim.
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azucarera-art · 1 year
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Kat 💚✨
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digitalclaws · 4 months
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i just wanted a little sticker of him for myself, so i made these.
they're on redbubble as well, if anyone else would like them too:
trainer - champion
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daeyumi · 1 month
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i wasn’t sure if u meant canon dark link or my own take as in my au version, so u get both
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saracastically · 2 months
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did this one for loopdeloop, super rushed it at the end, not sure how i feel about it, might as well post it here. theme was BOAT, if u can believe it
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ryssbelle · 2 months
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They're so silly and I love them
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distant--shadow · 3 months
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When Imogen wakes it is with an ache in her neck
a drop into reality unusually cushioned
a hand combing through her hair
and she can’t help the smile that breaks when she meets Laudna’s watchful eyes peering down at her, flushes shortly after.
“Sorry, did I fall asleep?”
Laudna smiles back at her, halts the hand playing with her hair.
“You did.”
An unspoken mutual agreement allows the moment to stretch in silence –
that or time is still fucky from Imogen only just waking up. It gives her enough of it to contemplate.
The sun must be high, the atmosphere muggy and the fauna all bustling as if it were a market day and the critters had stalls to set up and produce to bring home for their litters in the burrows. She feels the layer of sweat on her skin wherever the sun directly touches it, smells in waves where it heats the floor and diffuses the groundcover as if it were potpourri-
Above her, backlit - Laudna’s wearing a halo. The giant leaves of the giant trees are so high above them that the scale almost looks normal, the light breaking between the canopy in beams, sparkling in places where it catches insect wings and pollen, silhouetting edges of wiry strands of hair that act as though curtains on a canopy bed, all giving cover from the storm (should it come). It all feels so hazy, could be the vision starting to turn to grains of sand in her eyes like before a migraine but it’s also unusually clear, her head weightless despite the aching neck – funny what a handful of hours of good sleep can do.
The unspoken mutual agreement is ended.
“Did you rest well?” what did you dream about?
“I did, yeah...”
Unintentional, excusable really - waking with her defences down.
Wouldn’t be outta the ordinary to share.
“…dreamt we were back at Oddrún’s, was nice-” she withholds the details, just to save a little face. Exposes it anyhow, when she finds herself inadvertently taking the hand that had stilled in her hair, holding her palm up above her head with Laudna's lying flat on top of it “-then the roof caved in again and the place got swarmed with birds.”
“Birds?”
Imogen's thumb traces the knife-edge of the long nail on Laudna’s.
“Birds.” Imogen confirms, distracted, half-awake, giddy. The word already sounds funny; thrown back and forth between them. She chuckles at how her lips form around the repetition of it, says it again in Marquesian to see if it feels as abstract- that causes Laudna to quirk her brow from behind the fan of their fingers. “All different kinds, real cute and stuff, mostly. Place got furnished in feathers, was pretty chaotic - parakeets nestin’ in the cups and saucers and kingfishers in the rafters…” Laudna exhales a single syllable of a choral chuckle and Imogen has never felt so relaxed. “There was a kinda shady lookin’ big one standin’ on one leg in the corner by the hearth though, kept squawkin’.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, think it was a shoebill. You ever seen one of those?”
“You know, I’m not sure. I wonder if there was any significance…”
Their fingers interlace, under Laudna's initiative. Imogen stares at the long nails now reaching to her wrist like plates of fine ebony gauntlets.
“I could try draw it for y’all, but I don’t think it’d help…” comes out audibly distracted, the points of Laudna's talons gently making contact with Imogen's scarred skin-
“Allow me to get my notebook~” Laudna enthusiastically sings – nearly cutting Imogen, their hands separating - and Imogen is left staring at the empty space that was occupied by the shape that the two of them made, wonders if there is a word for that, like ‘bird’ - each hand a wing of some amalgamation, dream chimera, released between palms.
Probably a word she doesn’t have the language for.
(passage and illustration from @picturesofthegoneworlds ' intertwined)
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