#also warning for ships

[cutiefangz]

molly posting (some old some new)

[rendevok]

“Take my hand” a comic for NaruMitsu Week 2023

day 1 - lies & secrets - 2 - 3 - 4

[lazylittledragon]

everything in my art shop is back in stock!!

+ lots and lots of new things >:))

(also discount code for patrons <3)

[hrokkall]

DIVINE AUTOPSY

Text from a post by @bedrock-to-buildheight about angel anatomy and the physical manifestations of regret that can only be purged in a bloody vivisection.

[needle-noggins]

(CW for SA, suicidal ideation) Here we go. My favorite and simultaneously least favorite panel of Vash and Knives.

I've seen a few interpretations of this scene and before we dive into the one that really struck me, let's start with the more... chill one. We're finally introduced to the third gun of Trigun, Vash's angel arm. And the way we're introduced to it involves Knives forcing him to pull the trigger. Of course, since no one knows anything about Knives, the people of Noman's Land blame Vash for Fifth Moon, and Vash likewise blames himself (this is kinda a spoiler but if you've been paying attention, it's just par for the course). However, he's not the one who pulled the trigger, Knives is. It brings up an interesting moral question of blame - do we blame the gun (and Vash, who is being used/objectified as a weapon here), or the person who wanted it to happen? Guns don't kill people, genocidal twins do!

Now for the awful interpretation, the one that makes me cry and wish Vash was real so I could hug him and pay for his therapy. And really highlights how awful Knives is and how far he'd go for his brother in his own, fucked-up way. I touched on this in a previous post about Legato and the Murder Cafe, and the whole time I was thinking about Fifth Moon but didn't want to say anything for the sake of spoilers.

So. Pay attention to the way Vash and Knives are standing. Knives, when he first grabbed Vash's head, was standing in front of him. He moves behind him to better control him and yeah, he's still controlling him via hand on head, and now he's got his other hand gripping Vash's chest, where feathers/wings are manifesting. Knives is assaulting him. If you wanna get crazy with it and say that the angel arm is kinda phallic, you could say... yeah. This is rape. I heard that specific interpretation once and while I accepted it I also don't know if that would be generally accepted or if I'd be called out for it, so I'm trying to tread lightly here.

It also doesn't escape me that of course the angel arm has feminine features like the plants - the plants that, again, humans are exploiting for their ability to create. There's a lot of feminist commentary to be made here but many people have said it better than me. Specifically I'm thinking of this one post I saw about gender fuckery and Tristamp Vash. Anyway.

Also, the atomic bomb/black hole/sun/whatever that is in the middle... It's just so powerful. It's terrifying. The eldritch body horror here is a punch to the gut. What the fuck, Trigun? I thought this was a funky space western!!!

Oh, and here's more commentary on the following few panels:

Vashussy shot, Knives is still right behind him. Yeah, I wasn't kidding about how bad this pose is for them. Knives, you sick fuck.

Vash shoots himself in the leg (a key difference from '98 trigun, lol), because of course he does, but it doesn't free him from the arm.

The arm's getting darker/the light inside is getting lighter! Stampede did an awesome job with their interpretation of the angel arm and I don't think I would have understood it without that. Also, on my first read I didn't notice that Vash is literally levitating, which is cool, but also terrifying because ?? he's not in control of that either??

Finally. A super painful, minimalist, double-page spread. Nightow loves 'em. Vash thinks he's dying (maybe?) and he wishes he had never existed. It's not suicidal ideation per se, but he wishes he didn't exist at all because he's already caused enough suffering. This is a low for him, because he believes so strongly in the concept of the Blank Ticket. (Come on, soupy brain bitch boy, get it together!) He's a monster, it's just how he was born, and he's not in control. Very specifically too, he says "we", and then changes it to "I"... he doesn't blame Knives at all, and that's very him. I want to shake him! Stop playing the martyr, Vash!

[goatunderthebridge]

Tendou knew that Ushijima took things in the literal sense. He would misunderstand phrases, take idioms for gospel, and flounder at abstract metaphors. Tendou knew all of that, but he hadn't exactly thought about what extent that literalness would take.

When Tendou had returned back from visiting his family in France, he hugged Ushijima tightly, winding them both. When Ushijima asked why he did it, Tendou declared that was what people did when they missed someone. It was a passing phrase, just one moment out of many that Tendou had spent explaining to Ushijima something small and obscure and not meant to be taken seriously at all. He should've known better than that. Ushijima took everything seriously.

Tendou had only been off sick for a few days with a cold. He'd been resigned to his bed until he fully recovered, not chancing passing it on to the team. But he had only stepped a couple feet into the Shiratorizawa gym before someone had grabbed him and wrapped him tightly in a hug, squeezing the frail bit of life barely left in him.

Tendou saw a flash of dark green hair and tanned skin, putting two and two together. He patted Ushijima's back as best he could with his restrained arms, "Uh, bud? What are you doing?"

"This is what people do when they have missed someone," Ushijima returns flatly, his arms still wrapped tightly around Tendou. "I have missed you."

Heat creeps onto Tendou's face and he's glad at that moment, as the other boys start to crowd around them and question what they're doing, that they can't see his face as he lets it fall into the crook of Ushijima's neck.

"I've missed you too, bud." Tendou mumbles back with a smile.

[shadow0-1]

Adrenaline through your veins

and hands that fit in mine

[mintjeru]

there is no better advertisement than one of your favorite artists drawing art for a fandom you're not a part of. and by that i mean i finally caved and started reading the orv webtoon

open for better quality | no reposts

[feyreswaterybowels]

𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝙵𝚎𝚕𝚕

ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ x ʀʜʏꜱ!ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2ᴋ

ᴛᴀɢꜱ/ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ʟᴏꜱꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀᴛᴇ. ᴅᴇᴘʀᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ɢʀɪᴇᴠɪɴɢ. ᴘᴀɴɪᴄ ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋ. ꜱᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴀʟ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ��ꜱ. ʀʜʏꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀꜱꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ. ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ ʟɪʙᴇʀᴛɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ ꜱʏꜱᴛᴇᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ.

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ꜱɪx ᴍᴏɴᴛʜꜱ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ꜱᴛᴀʀ. ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ ɪs ɢʀɪᴇᴠɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏss ᴏꜰ ʜɪs ᴍᴀᴛᴇ. ʜɪs ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ sᴏ ᴡᴏʀʀɪᴇᴅ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ. ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴠᴀɪʟ ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴊᴏᴜʀɴᴇʏ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ʜɪs sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪɢʜᴛ ʜɪs ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴs ᴀs ʜᴇ ᴛʀɪᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴏɴ ᴏʀ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʙᴇ ᴍᴇʀᴄɪꜰᴜʟ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪs ᴍᴀᴛᴇ?

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

Azriel’s eyes shot open when he sensed a presence in his room, instantly reaching for the dagger on his night stand. He looked around wildly but there was nothing. No one.

His shadows were tense. Alert. They sensed it too.

Azriel stood from the bed cautiously, bare feet on cold stone. His shadows instantly shielded him. If there was something in this room he would be invisible to them now.

He crept around the room, taking in every inch. Every shadowy corner. He looked behind the curtains. In the massive wardrobes. Under his bed, in his bathroom. Nothing. He walked to the balcony—that feeling of another being there rushed over him. He stepped out, the night breeze chilled his skin instantly and his eyes narrowed.

Nothing.

Then he felt it.

He gasped, dagger dropping to the ground as his hands clutched at his chest.

There was a tug. A tug right in the center of his chest, a tug in that black hole that had been there for months.

He fell to his knees. He couldn’t breathe. His chest was pounding.

“Rhys!” He hissed to his shadows, “Go get Rhys!”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

One hundred and eighty days.

Twenty six weeks.

Six Months.

Six months since Azriel lost the love of his life. His beautiful, sweet mate that he had foolishly turned away—who in her final moments may not have believed his love for her.

He would never forget the look on her face when that damned hyber soldier shoved a sword through her, how his shadows tried to desperately tend to her wounds as he tried to find help, the way she clung to him as her blood soaked through his armor. He remembered it, all of it. Every touch, every look, every whispered word from their last moments together played on repeat in his head.

It was all he dreamed about.

That was probably why he hadn’t left his room much the last six months. All he wanted was sleep because that’s where she was. Even if it was only a glimpse, even if the dream turned into a nightmare he didn’t care. If he could see her that’s all he cared about.

And when he wasn’t sleeping?

Well, he just laid in bed, his shadows curled against him as he stared at the roof or hid under his blanket and considered leaving this earth behind until sleep finally consumed him once again.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Violet blues were in front of him and Azriel immediately reached for him—scarred hand fisting in the dark material of his shirt.

“Az—”

“I can’t,” Azriel gasped, his shadows in a flurry around him. “I can’t breathe, Rhys. I can’t. I—”

“You can, come on, you have to take a breath. You have to calm down before you pass out,” Rhys said, grabbing him—one hand on his shoulder the other on the side of his face.

“Breathe. Come on, Az, breathe with me brother…”

He couldn’t. Rhys' words were drowned out by the ringing in his ears. He gasped again, doubling over again as that tugging in his chest began again. Feeling as if he was being shredded apart from the inside.

Azriel met Rhys’ eyes, saw the panic there, caught just a glimpse of Cassian as he landed on the balcony behind Rhys. The distant concerned shrill of Feyre’s voice. Rhys’ hand left his shoulder, grasping the other side of his face—he looked to be nearly yelling at him, shaking his head at something Cassian said.

His lungs hurt so bad, refusing to take in the air he was desperately trying to breathe. He’s going to pass out, he knows he it, he can feel the lightness in his head as his vision started fading around the edges.

He looked at Rhy again, but this time those violet blues didn’t belong to Rhys.

No. The face looking back at him was the one he’s been searching for since the last time he saw it all those months ago. The one his heart called out for. He reached out, scarred fingertips tracing along her cheek, his lungs finally filling with the breath he was so desperate for.

“Stella…” he gasped as he lost consciousness.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It was the midst of battle when he felt that tug in his chest, worry spreading through his chest. He shoved the dead soldier off his sword and spun around looking for her. She tugged again. He felt panicked, something felt wrong—had been feeling wrong all morning.

When his eyes met hers, she tugged that bond between him and he felt it. She had the same awful gut feeling he had. He nodded in confirmation, tugging that bond between them—the first time he’d acknowledged it.

He almost smiled at her, almost urged her to come closer when a figure suddenly appeared behind her.

No!

But the words wouldn’t come out. All he could feel was dread. He tugged that bond again trying to alert her. Why couldn’t he move? He felt frozen in his spot. He tugged that bond as hard as he could, hoping, praying to the mother that maybe he could pull her to him.

His entire body ran cold as that Hybern soldier appeared right behind her. The he felt it as it happened, watched as that sword pierced right through her stomach.

No. No. No. No! He was screaming, fighting that invisible force was holding him.

He watched her face crumple as she looked down at the sword impaling her. She looked back at him, a gasping sob ripped from her throat as that soldier pulled his blade from her body.

“NO!” Azriel’s shout left his throat, so loud it shook the earth around them.

He watched as she touched that bloody wound in shock—only half paying attention to the fact that Cassian had just killed that soldier but Stella was falling. Her wings had given out and she was plummeting towards the earth—

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

He woke with a gasp, nearly toppling from the bed he'd laid on.

“Hey, hey, Az,” A voice echoed before a hand came down on his shoulder. He looked for the owner of that voice, finding his brother there—a look of concern on Rhys’ face.

“What the hell happened?” Azriel breathed, rubbing his hands over his face roughly, his body feeling fatigued and weak.

“We could ask you the same question,” the owner of that voice was Cassian.

“Azriel, I’ve given you time. I know it's been hard but it’s time to talk about it. You can’t keep living like this and I can’t keep watching you waste away,” Rhys said, firm and commanding.

Azriel looked at him, then Cassian. Felt the tears in his eyes, saw the worry in theirs.

“Fuck,” he breathed, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. Sat there silently for a moment.

He didn’t see the look his brother shared, the way they silently communicate their concerns to one another.

“I don’t know…” Azriel started, thinking of the words he wanted to say. “I don’t know if I want to live without her anymore.”

The weight of those words was heavy, hitting his brothers hard.

“Is that why you’ve been in your room? Refusing to eat or train? Because you…because you want to die?” Rhys asked, his voice still strong but there was something else there—a silent fear.

“Not entirely,” Azriel shook his head. “Three months ago I started having dreams of her. She’s all I think about in my waking moments and she’s all I see in my dreams. Sometimes they are horrible dreams but I—I stay in bed because when I am awake all I remember is that she is gone but when I sleep she is still with me. I can see her, I can hear her laugh, I can hold her in my arms, kiss her, tell her—tell her I love her and want to be her mate. And I just—”

A sob cut him off as the tears fell freely from his eyes.

“Az,” Rhys breathed, reaching out to grab his brother, wrapping him in a hug the best he could from the side.

Looking to Cassian he saw those hazel eyes brimmed with tears, their brother's pain so strong it hurt them too.

“I miss her so much,” Azriel sobbed, clutching to Rhys.

Cassian couldn’t stand there any longer, moving to the bed and sitting, reaching out and wrapping his arms around his brothers. He wasn’t afraid to let his tears flow as they all sat there together, trying to bring whatever comfort they could to their broken brother.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It’s three days later when Azriel wakes, his body so exhausted from crying and speaking his feelings that he just slept and slept. Only dreaming of his girl. Not a single nightmare in sight.

As he was laying in bed, the dreams circled over and over in his head. He felt as if she was trying to tell him something, that maybe wherever she was she was still trying to be there for him.

She wouldn’t want this for him. She wouldn’t want him to lay in bed wasting away. She wouldn’t want him to die alone in his room. He couldn’t live his life with her. But he could live his life for her.

So he got up. It was slow, his shadows helped him. His muscles and joints hurt. His wings felt incredibly heavy. And…gods, was that smell him?

He looked towards the window. If he bathed now maybe he could have breakfast with his family. He missed them.

His brothers. His high lady and her sisters. Mor. And even Amren.

He was slow to move to the bathroom—he hadn’t noticed a few days ago or even that night he thought someone was in his room but now? Fuck, he felt it all now.

The bath was already steaming and he had half a mind to praise the house for that but his mental capacity wasn’t quite there yet. Instead he let his shadows undress him and balance him as he stepped into the large deep bath, immediately submerging himself in the warmth, sharing the weight of his body with the water took off a huge strain from his muscles.

Step one: get strength back.

He almost felt too weak to even bathe but while he washed himself his shadows took over the responsibility of washing his hair.

When he finally pulled himself from the water a fresh warm towel was waiting for him with a stack of clean clothes. He paused mid drying off when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

His skin was dull and pale, dark bags under his eyes that looked nearly sunken in. A thick, scruffy beard covered his chin and jaw and his hair fell well past his ears, nearly resting on his shoulders. The majority of his muscle definition was gone and he looked…fragile. Like he could break so very easily. His wings drooped behind him and when he tried to tighten them it was painful.

“Fuck,” he breathed, shaking his head. He hadn’t realized how bad it had gotten, how much his health—mentally and physically had declined.

Azriel brushed his teeth then grabbed the scissors from the counter, grabbing chunks of the beard off and snipping them off. He left some facial hair, and half ass style the hair on his head—he refused to go in front of his family for the first time in months looking so unkempt.

The clothes were simple and he didn’t bother with shoes. He stood at the door of his bedroom for a moment. He didn’t remember the last time he left this room. The little he had eaten had come directly from the house or his shadows.

He pulled open the door and stepped out. There was no one in the halls but his shadows clung to him protectively. They hadn’t spoken at all, merely clung to him. He began down the hall, dreading the stairs knowing they would kill his legs but he had to do it. He had to.

He was moving slowly but he could sense his family in the dining room on the level below. He held the railing and as he finally reached the last stair he took a moment to compose himself. He could feel a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin from the effort it took to descend the steps. His thighs and calves burned. And he had to take a few breaths to calm his racing heart.

He wasn’t sure the last time he ever felt like this. All he knew is he didn’t want to keep feeling like this.

Taking another breath he nodded to himself, placing a hand on the door and pushing it up. He was silent and as he looked around the dining room he wasn’t sure how he felt, but they were there—everyone except Amren anyway.

“Azriel,” Mor gasps, her brown eyes widening as a range of emotion washed over her face.

Every eye in the room turned to him. He lifted his head, tucked his wings and squared his shoulders back. He would not falter. He would be strong. He could do this. So he walked over, he took his normal seat between Cassian and Rhys, still open and ready for him.

He hadn’t yet spoken a word before a plate of food appeared in front of him. Looking up he met the eyes of each person at the table, varying looks but not of pity, sadness or contempt. No all of those eyes, the eyes of his family held pride, love and respect.

So he reached out, grabbed his fork and began to eat.

Azriel spoke to no one and no one spoke to him. Their conversation continued and he felt lighter listening to their voices. When he got back to his room, he fell into bed and he cried. He cried until he fell asleep.

But when he woke up the next morning, he got out of bed and joined his family for breakfast one again.

[fishareglorious]

i do a light chuckle once i remember hofmann and semmelweis are friends but then i remember semmelweis and marcus' suitcase interaction where they talk about her and i am once again inconsolable about this old woman's death

[venice-1987]

An annoying phenomenon I've noticed

Alternatively: Whatever you do, don't go onto the TDP reddit

(Alternatively, let people ship things)

[shhhsoftnwet]

Who are you harassing this time, team leader Shin?

[pnfc]

dunno if this is already Known but theres a partial thumbnailing from 'remains of the platypus' that has some bonus/alternate scenes with doof and perry, doof capturing perry and talking through the butlerfication process, it's rly fun: here (pdf)

[y4rdbird]

vania the ever

[randomshiptime]

credit to randomlifelog24 on X/Twitter, account deleted

[ipostmysimpingstuffanonymously]

respectfully requesting a drawing of taichi and sora together and maybe with the proud satosho parents in there too 🥹👉👈

ÖISEDÖIOKJYEGRJN.KYBR always. I love the mole babies. Ugh i cant not draw them Head canon dump in the tags