#one might see the inspiration

[lunarwednesday]

My piece for @orv-lovezine !

Wanted something sweet, so I made it myself (also there may be some madoka op vibes)

[cloudysfluffs]

he is such a little shit /affectionate

nsfw/kink blogs please dni!

[turtleducsk]

fire lord zuko and ambassador katara were spotted out on their date night(?) 🧐

[buttercupshands]

be ready I'm still sketching (so it's like post 1 of couple today) (also those are like... almost animatic parts but I was like ehhh I wanna draw something related without thinking)

[flovoid]

“citizens of san myshuno refer to us as criminals, villains, or peace destroyers… ah of course, being blindfolded from the truth is the result to create such frail brains as theirs. I pity them. 

but oh child, they are clueless— or dare I say mindvoided with imaginary thoughts. because, how can a one make such conclusion of someone without knowing their true identity?

Mobwives… yes, we are no villains nor are heros… we are mere individuals who are prisoning the false justice to reveal the final ordeal.”

— ‘Chief’

[jade-len]

i think it'd be funny if someone transmigrated as xin mo. the goddamn evil sword. instead of taking it seriously, they just really fucked around with bingge. and, somehow, ended up having the opposite effect of what it's supposedly rumored to do.

picture this: bingge, on the quest for revenge and power, comes across the almighty xin mo. this demonic sword killed everyone that dared to even try wielding it. and, the few who were lucky enough to have it by their side, eventually succumbed to the swords' will.

it is said that the sword is unlike any other, that it etches into your head and eats away your brain, until eventually it consumes you whole. it whispers, speaking in lust, greed, and hatred. it slowly beckons the wielder into giving in to the worst part of themselves and feeds off of pure sin. but to him, it is no matter; luo bingge will surely tame it.

and then he gets to the sword.

demonic qi practically oozes from xin mo. the aura surrounding it makes every part of luo bingge scream, "run; get away, away from that monster." his gut prods at him, begging bingge that this is probably a really bad idea. it's a little terrifying, how even luo bingge, the determined, vengeful demon, is now getting second thoughts about wielding xin mo from just being in its presence alone.

but luo bingge is too, a monster. so he ignores the screams of plea; pushing every thought of doubt in the back of his head, and tightly grips onto the handle. the world around him seems to spin and shake, tumble and crack, from the amount of force bingge needs to use in order to pull the sword of sin out of its place.

when bingge finally has it perfectly fit into the palms of his calloused hands, he hears whispering. he knows that the sword has accepted him as its new host.

the sword's language crawls up to him, as if it were feeling around his body and mind. checking every nook and cranny for it to settle into bingge's form, truly becoming one with the embodiment of sin. the words flow through his brain like a tragically broken guqin, a melody that holds him in a frighteningly familiar trance - all while simultaneously eating away at his brain in the worst ways possible, akin to a child and their favorite snack. it seems to beckon something, but even with luo bingge's impressive hearing, he cannot make out any words from the tone-deaf musical notes xin mo sings.

and then, it is clear. the land around him settles, and everything is still. xin mo itself seems to be.. content. at least, that is what luo bingge believes.

the language of this wretched sword reflects the state around these two monsters.

luo bingge expects it to demand for bloodshed, for the erotic ecstasy of multiple women, for bingge to steal the last of the finest gems of these horrible, vast lands.

instead, he hears this:

"yoooo damn that shit was crazy. did you see what i did there? man, you know, it feels so fucking good to get out of the dirt. hey, do you know if people can like, feed their swords or something? i'm kinda craving something spicy. we never know, in this wack world! wait, don't hold me like that, buddy. it'll make things real awkward."

but luo bingge is determined to get his revenge, so he puts up with the swords' constant rambling about.. whatever the hell it's thinking.

"wait, dude, did you seriously fuck a dying girl? that's wild. yeah, like i know she was dying but it doesn't sound like you wanted it. yo, listen to me, consent is very sexy."

"HAHA hey, dude, sir, man. you wanna play some 'i spy'? we don't have anything else to do. no? too bad, we're playing it. i spy a loser who doesn't wanna play i spy. hint: he's holding me right now."

"okay i know i'm supposed to be this super evil sword and beg to be used - woah that sounded real wrong - but can you at least clean me when you're done killing shit? if you don't, i'm gonna refuse to respond to you and you'll look like a dumbass trying to wield me."

"i can't hear you lalalalalalala you're not being very it girl right now lallalalaalalalla-"

somehow, this is worse than if xin mo was actually eating away at his brain.

weirdly enough though, as luo bingge starts spending more time with this weird ass, seemingly possessed sword, it starts to become more of a.. comfort to have it by his side than pure annoyance. he finds himself responding to it more, like, actually having full on conversations with it. it puts him at ease, wielding xin mo. the hatred doesn't consume him, instead, it seems to soothe the burning rage (and, admittedly, just replace it with small irritation) that holds onto his darkened heart.

xin mo is actually quite kind and caring, for a sword that's supposed represent and be the literal embodiment of sin. sure, it is a hassle to have it cooperate with him sometimes, and it does just ramble on and on about the most random things ever, not giving a single shit if bingge was in the middle of sleeping with maidens and slaying those who get in his way. for the first time, bingge feels so comfortable around something.

it's.. odd. what was supposed to be the turning point in his life, a big step in his plan for revenge, is now something akin to an... acquaintance. not like mobei-jun, or any of the women he's come across, but an actual, dare he say, friend.

sometimes, he finds himself thinking all of this delusional. is this what people were driven mad by? perhaps they simply could not handle dealing with a talking sword. he understands that xin mo was undoubtedly unbearable to be around at the beginning of their alliance, but it has never actually beckoned for blood, power, and sex. if anything, it does the opposite.

maybe he's the delusional one. maybe this is xin mo's way of getting to him.

maybe, xin mo should be considered a thing. the thought feels terribly laughable, as if he were witnessing a person horribly explain themselves. it also makes his teeth grind together in pure agitation.

"hey, you know, you didn't deserve any of the things they did. it wasn't your fault, binghe. the fact that you're half heavenly demon doesn't make you a monster, or any of that wild stuff.. uh, i'm here for you, okay? i know you don't really like talking about all of this or opening up, but i just want you to know that you can.. talk about it. it's not like i can tell anyone else, anyways.

hey- shit i didn't mean to make you cry! wait, wait it's okay to cry! you need to let it out anyways, i promise it doesn't make you weak. there, there. i don't have any hands, so me patting you on the head with my handle will have to do. there, there.. everything will be alright, you'll be okay. i'll be here every step of the way, even if you want to get rid of me."

xin mo, the demonic sword, is more of a person - a good person - than anyone he'd ever come across.

...and then bingge and the xin mo transmigrator become besties or he falls for the damn sword. knowing him, he probably doesn't even know the difference between platonic and romantic attraction anyways. maybe bingge gets a plant body for xin mo using airplane's wack writing. idk i typed all of this down in one sitting.

(plot twist: it's not that the transmigrator xin mo had the opposite effect, it was literally just a placebo effect. luo bingge thought that, and thus it actually did help him lmao)

[solarpunkani]

"Oh no, someone's attracted to the aesthetics of my -punk movement but doesn't know the praxis and history behind it like I do--"

OK. Tell them. Make it a teaching moment. Everyone who's in your movement learned the background from somewhere at some point, maybe this is that point for that person. Give them a jumping off point that they can dive into later.

"Oh but I shouldn't be responsible for teaching baby -punks about the history and the how-tos and--"

OK. Then don't tell them. You don't have to be responsible for teaching people with a budding interest in your group the ins and outs and how-tos. That's fair and valid! It can be a lot of work. Someone else will handle it

"But I'm annoyed that they would try to claim to be part of/be interested in my community without knowing all the details that I know after being in it for months/years/decades, they're dumb, they're posers, they're--"

OK. Then don't engage with them, if it's that bad. Maybe someone else will come around and tell them the history, maybe they'll pick it up on their own, maybe they'll just enjoy the fashion elements for awhile.

"But they shouldn't claim to be part of the -punk community if they don't know the--"

I feel like we have a few options here. People can either talk to them, share the history, share the values, share the praxis. Or they can just chase off anyone who even thinks about dipping a toe in their community, and then wonder why it's dying off later down the line.

I dunno, maybe I'm too naive and patient or whatever. But if people are entering your -punk spaces without knowing The Rundown of what you feel they need to know, maybe being nice about it and informing people instead of immediately assuming stupidity and malicious intent could help you make a new friend. Even the loudest voices in a space had to learn from somewhere, and not everyone has the luxury of being in the space as the History was Happening--whether it's an age thing or a not being aware of the space thing. Or maybe I just don't see what the big deal is behind people hating people who like the aesthetic of something and don't know the behind the scenes history about it yet.

Because I believe in the word 'yet.' No one comes into this world knowing everything about everything, and we're all constantly learning new things. I'm not gonna degrade someone and call them a poser for not knowing what I know. Because if it were me, interested in a scene but getting chased out and called a poser? I wouldn't hit the books and study up, I'd go 'that fuckin sucks, those people sucked' and then avoid anyone and anything having to do with it.

So chase people off and call them posers if you want. But if your community starts dwindling, don't be fucking shocked.

[killjo-q]

Was feeling blue today

There was a strong itch to use blue on something and they were the first two characters that came into mind hahaha..

[reginalusus]

Always liked the moment when Ralsei takes off his hat.

Image description: Fanart of Ralsei from Deltarune, done in a style that is reminiscent of an 80s or 90s anime. Ralsei is framed from the torso-up, holding his hat. He is smiling softly, his eyes shut. The background is simply black, the same as the background in the game where this scene happens. There is a caption for his dialogue at the bottom of the image which reads: "You both look shocked!" End of image description.

[sheyhem]

Just got a letter informing me that my good friend Jonathan is going on a business trip to Transylvania in a bit under two weeks! I'm sure he will have a wonderful time on his travels! Can't wait to hear all about it through his letters!

[freaky-flawless]

It's black history month and I wanted to draw some black monsters, particularly ones that don't get enough love!

ID in alt!

[spectralbugs]

goofball boys being goofballs (and also in love)

[hair-dice]

Do you think the stars are visible? Being stuck in the belly of AM, it is not, but outside? Above?

Do you think that if you were to frantically crawl your way through shredded metal, slicing your skin through to the bone, pushing against the cables restraining you back, you might get a glimpse?

The machine fights against you, pushing plates into your body that roughly saw into you-- they were too dull to cut smoothly. It wasn't a trap this time. It was an oversight. You feel yourself begin to be constricted, a sheet of rusted metal quickly slamming itself into your shoulder, snapping the clavicle like a twig.

It hurts. It hurts, you cried internally. But your opposite hand that reached far above you, blood pooling down the mangled limb into your face, touches something of a different texture. And above it, you feel nothing more.

You grip and pull. Pull as hard as your atrophied muscles could, like you were born for nothing more. The plate wedged in your shoulder pushes back, slicing further down your side with great resistance. It hurts. You've felt it before. You pull harder and harder, suddenly finding the intensity of the force restraining you lessened. This was a trap, but you didn't care.

You pull, and pull debris into your eyes. You keep them open. You pull more, feeling the plate make its way down to meet your ribcage. You pull. You pull. You pull more into your face, digging and digging with digits that you knew would never be able to perform fine movements again after this stunt. You pull. There's a hole. It's about as wide as your fist.

Through it, you can see nothing but darkness.

[dvnieldraws]

dandelions

[otaku553]

Thinking very hard about an AU idea of mine. Reluctant king Sabo AU!

In which Sabo isn’t saved by Dragon, but survives long enough to drift ashore and be saved by the doctors of Goa Kingdom, who do so only to ransom his medical bills from Sabo’s parents. Sabo’s parents take him back, thinking that his amnesia makes him a clean slate, but Sabo, young and stubborn and unsure of his entire identity, knows that everything is wrong and runs again, and again, and again.

Until at some point, he meets the Revolutionaries, and realizes that he can be useful to them, provide them information, make something good of an inescapable situation. From then on, he starts acting the noble that he was born as, in order to be a more useful informant to the Revolutionaries, until sunk cost fallacy hits and he believes that being a noble is the only way that he can be useful to the Revolutionaries. So at that point, why not take it all the way?

At 17, Sabo becomes one of Princess Sarie’s suitors, and at 17, he has doubts about using the princess for his own goals. Sarie is a romantic, and she wants a dramatic fairy tale of a romance, and she was already charmed, but the moment Sabo opens up to her about not wanting to use her to get to the throne, having lofty ambitions of helping the people (just not the people she thinks he’s talking about), Sabo becomes the one she simply must marry, because surely if she tries hard enough, she can make him love her back.

Soon after, the king and his son die. Sarie’s father and brother die. And while Sabo conveniently ascends to the throne, he also swiftly implicates his father, Outlook, in the assassination of all heirs to the throne, resulting in Outlook’s arrest and subsequent execution. And thus, at 18, Sabo becomes king, and begins to gradually institute great changes to Goa Kingdom.

Design-wise, Sabo wears an eyepatch because his damaged eye is considered a grotesque sight by nobles’ standards. Under the eyepatch, he wears heavy makeup to hide the burn scar. These are both at the behest of his birth parents, who spin a story about Sabo having been born half blind to hide the fact that Sabo had been shot by a Celestial Dragon and save face. To those who have seen his scar, they fabricate a second secret story that he was unfortunately kidnapped as a child. Sabo never does find out, until he regains his memories, where the burn scar is actually from.

[averlym]

litany of the martyrs (click for better resolution!)