#wow i really hope i didnt like

[sorchasolas]

Lightshaper & Winddancer!

Thx u @rcisnotacola for the Lightshaper suggestion

And @sceilig for the Winddancer suggestion!

[skunkes]

longlegs fucking sucked 😭

[hsslilly-blog]

it’s honestly so depressing to read these news about pixelberry. ive been here since 2013 and i’ve been disappointed in them and by them multiple times but somehow i’ve always thought theyd at least stick to the values theyve always purported to hold. apparently that was also too much to ask of them. how do you build your brand on art and on writing stories people want to read and believing in creativity and in the value of engaging in and making art and after years of that you decide to use gen ai. your company gets bought by a gen ai studio. lol this is stupid and this sucks.

[angellic-critique]

Oh yeah, Angel Dust has a sister, her name's Molly, there are a bunch of speed drawings with her.

Anon I think you are the only fan of Molly as I have not sent her be mentioned outside of 2017.

Genuinely thought that Molly was like Niffty/Vaggie situationship because I had NO fucking clue what stance Molly even was outside of just looking at a distant glance over definitely not realizing that was what happened to the past 'Angel Dust Drag'..... The fact that it personifies into a woman that is barely mentioned [much like angel representing or doing drag in the first place], turned into fucking THIS????

I cant even begin to comprehend.... She speaks for herself honestly. You can tell that viv genuinely did not give a fuck about the implications here or the lazy design that is 'Hmm angel dust but pink girly'

I feel like she just became cut content considering there hasn't ever been a mention about angels' family besides his Arackniss

Kinda weird how angel is more focused and put down upon in the spotlight more with Valentino and less with his 1930s mobster Italian spider persona :/ Even attempting to make a different womanly character known as the sister of angel dust, she is still tied down to him and has nothing besides this rainbow vomit old design.

How could I not be confused over angels' stance on dragging while VIV can't even fucking make characters up for him without retconning over herself!

You want this mess of a character design to be made but not Baxter???? I'm baffled. Thanks for bringing this horrid 'writing' decision to my notice. Since viv doesn't give a single lick of sense about Molly I too did not realize that Molly was supposed to be the hyper feminized pink eyesore that was SUPPOSED to be Angel's DRAG PERFORMING CARICATURE???

Your ask has the exact same amount of punch as telling me that Blitz has a sister, they are underwritten to be one of the same since they're women obviously Viv just doesn't like writing women ! :/

[deoidesign]

I was scrolling and saw your art and it made me really happy because I realized you made time and time again!!!

It’s literally one of my favorite things I’ve ever read, so cool!!!

This is so sweet, thank you for sharing!

It's sort of "illusion breaking" so to speak, to think of my art being both out there in a way that someone could happen upon it, and then further that someone may happen upon it twice, and finally that on doing so they find it recognizable...

I always think of myself and my work as something that sort of sits behind the curtain. The idea that it might take up space in this way is unreal!

This is the kind of thing that means more than you could imagine.

So thank you!

[milkbreadtoast]

my s class hunters does a really good job at gradually raising the stakes without feeling like a pointless power creep and keeping me extremely invested and i keep saying this but I really do think it's bc it's a story grounded in love at every turn... the bond between the han brothers especially is extremely compelling and beautiful and makes me feel like a knife is being stabbed into my heart and twisted all around... i love them so so much 😞💔❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

[kaisollisto]

[lord-squiggletits]

Speaking of Tyrest. A lot of people forget that he treated Pharma with absolute disdain, not only using him as a test subject for a clearly painful mass murder machine, but talking to Pharma like he saw him as nothing but some henchman to order around that was nothing more than a 'diseased cripple' if Tyrest hadn't come to rescue him.

Like it really is an interesting background dynamic with some curious implications, but when you look at fandom posts from around that issue/the years after, for some reason people just saw "Pharma worked with Tyrest" and concluded Pharma is a card carrying bigot ksjfnskxkd. Like yeah Pharma didn't do anything to stop Tyrest but it seems his main beef with the Autobots was with Ratchet in particular and maybe a general disdain for his ex-comrades. As well as continuing to hate Decepticons which like, not even the "good Autobots" are immune to (even in Pharma's introduction, First Aid says in his journal something like "yeah we all hate Decepticons, but Pharma REALLY hates them"). And despite what fandom likes to construe there's really no evidence in IDW1 that Autobots and Decepticons are different "races" or "types" of Cybertronians, so Pharma hating Decepticons really isn't a bigotry/robot racism thing. And instead probably has something to do with, idk, the 4 million year long galaxy-spanning blood feud war, or maybe being blackmailed and tortured into insanity by the Biggest and Most Decepticon-y of Decepticons.

Tyrest treated Pharma like trash, the other Decepticons working for Tyrest (how come no one ever brings that up btw) also hated him, so if anything it seems that Pharma was more of a rogue element only staying with Tyrest bc he was his best option and probably had no way to even escape.

I'm glad that at least in recent years the fandom has acquired a keen reading eye and good taste to finally recognize Pharma as the (accidentally) complex character he is instead of making him some posh, racist Starscream clone SHSJDGSGDH

[oohbuggypie]

"and as he wept, he wept and said, 'Oh, my.. Oh, my.. Would to God I had died for He'"

this is fully inspired by @goferwashere 's PO!! Monster Hunter AU 🩷 depicted is Don Flamenco in his monster form being held in his last moments by Joe. the writing that describes their fight, Don's death, and Joe's regret are all below the cut as its very long. but WOW i just could not get this idea out of my head . thank u soo much Gofer for the amazing AU and thank u to the whole community for being my courage to be brave and release something a little less cutesie than usual ! 🥹 additional details i rlly want to be known::

-the tattoo on Don' torso is an altered version of that in the regular PO!! universe; the one depicted reads "COLOSSIANS 3:2" :: the verse's meaning is "Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things". this is meant to reflect his disdain for humans, and how he views them as lesser

-the stab wound placement is below Don's right pectoral; this is in reflection of Jesus Christ's 5th wound he suffered whilst being crucified. additionally, it is said that what seeped from the wound wasn't only blood, but water as well; i found this very fitting for his character for obvious reasons lol

-the lyrics above the drawing are a condensed / altered version from the choral piece "David's Lamentation", one of my favorite songs ever !

phewph okay writing time ! unfortunately i have never written angst, let alone fighting OR death .. this is also being released about half an hour shy of midnight on bad sleep so proofreading is out of the question.. this is prob a hard read but I STAY CONFIDENT ! here we gooo 🩷::

-------------------------------------------------------

Don hissed and swung his fist in an aimless direction, hearing the collision's result come in the form of an agonized grunt from the man near him. Blind rage mingled with fear consumed Don's body in a way God himself forbade, yet he continued to batter any flesh that came into contact with his.

Joe's entire being ached, his eye now burning from the knuckles that dug into it just moments ago. He clenched it shut and let the obscurity of his vision drive his instincts to wherever they were necessary. He aimed to return the punch with his own fist plunging to meet Don's stomach, momentarily knocking the air from his lungs. As Don's arms instinctively lowered to gaurd where his sore flesh was struck, Joe snarled and drew his left arm back to slam a fist into Don's cheek. The siren felt a coursing agony not only externally, but through his heart. He knew what would come, yet he continued to bare his teeth. He ripped apart anything which bothered him and felt no haunting ring in his mind. Though this time, he feared that the bells would toll.

Joe took full advantage of the temporary stun he inflicted upon Don and wrapped his hands around the man's throat. Joe kicked Don's ankle in so that he buckled beneath his own weight, dropping them both to meet the floor. Joe felt a shake within his bones, like the structures in his own body didn't want him to do this. He didn't want to. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Yet his body moved now without his mind, pressing his entire weight into the neck of the helpless man below him. Don couldn't stand the desperation that racked his body, and above that distaste, he couldn't bare to look up at the deathly eyes staring into his own. The man who he called a friend held less semblance to a human and now closer to a wraith, some wretched figure distorted by horror. His skin appeared a sickly gray in the darkness of the gym's room, and had his hands always been this coarse and cold? Nonetheless, for the present time Don disregarded the friend he once had and viewed him now as a step above a pet; competition.

Don snarled and thrashed beneath the body of Joe and locked his hands around the arms above. His brain felt like a searing gas within his head, but that lack of consciousness was immediately replaced by instinct. Don slid his hands down to grip Joe's wrists and ripped them outwards with a fell swipe. Joe wasn't spared a second to process the motion before his nose was slammed by Don's forehead. A pained cry was all his voice could manage before his vision flickered black.

-----

When he awoke, only seconds has passed since he blacked out. With a horrified start, Joe began to thrash his arms through the water engulfing him. His legs kicked in the same motion, his left heel slamming into an excruciating pressure seeming to bind his right ankle. The force released as soon as it felt his bruising strike against it. Joe desperately made strokes with his arms upwards, looking for any form of light to signify what differentiated the surface from the bottom. Joe felt a darkness reigning upon him as another figure trailed close behind, its presence growing heavier with each struggling wave of his arms throughout the pool.

Joe's face broke the surface. Without a second to catch his breath, he began scanning the area with bewildered eyes for the nearest edge. His loafers felt like bricks tied to his ankles, and the turtleneck he donned was quickly becoming suffocating. A short distance behind him, a splash breaking the water's tension drove Joe into fight or flight. His arms clawed in front of him with strokes large enough to leave his arms aching the next day, yet that same pain was his drive to reach the edge quicker. He gripped the ledge of the hard floor and hoisted himself above the edge, rushing into a position where his knees and one arm balanced his body upright. With his unoccupied hand, he reached where the bells tolled and the colors sank. Joe frantically patted his pocket for where the knife's sheath bulged.

Don arose from the water he resided in just seconds after his former partner. Joe ripped the leather from his pocket and reached into it, gripping the handle as if he was warding death itself away. His knuckles were white with pressure, and his wide eyes locked on the man inches from himself. Don's eyes were sickly and no longer passing as human; the bags beneath them were a bruised purple, and where the whites of his eyes should be were replaced by a glassy blue. His brows dug wrinkles into his forehead like malicious scars upon skin. And the worst of it all was the death-like frown that crumpled his entire facial structure; it drew his eyes in a downward spiral, and his lips curled against his flesh like desperate hands digging into anything for hold.

With his chest exposed and either arms beside him as means to lift himself, Joe raised his blade and drudged it into Don's flesh.

Don's eyes fell like the world's light upon an empty room, and the sharp inhale in his throat thrummed akin to the death rattle. Despite the metal lodged deep within his chest, he managed the strength to drag himself from his home's grasp and to lay on the freezing tile below him. Joe's hands left his mouth as he let out some visceral shout that made cherubs above weep. He scurried across the soaked floor to examine the man before him. Joe slammed himself down upon the floor and struggled to lift him, eventually draping Don's being across his own. Don's arms rested against Joe's bent knees, and his head tilted into his chest with slowing breaths beating against his sweater. The remaining warmth of his breath settling on his own shoulder resembled the comfort of a blanket upon a child's cold body. Joe felt static piercing through his brain and throughout his ears.

He slid his trembling hand to grab the hilt of his blade, yanking it from between Don's ribs with a crumbling expression upon his face. Where the stab wound remained open, Joe rested his hand on its opening and let the blood seep onto his skin. He lowered them to graze the rest of Don's torso, creating an up and down rhythm almost as if to comfort him. He felt a dread in his stomach nothing in his life had ever compared to; he had killed numerous times before this, and for pettier reasons. But the understanding of what he had just done settled upon him like the smothering embrace of a rotting being. Joe lost any remaining thoughts in his mind as small, breaking moans passed the pursing lips of Don.

Don's body felt washed by shades of baby blue. His eyed fixated on an empty and quickly fading horizon. The right side of his body held a sensation that reminded him of familiarity; dripping water and warm waves caressing his flesh. Though this time, the sea seemed to be accompanied by rainfall. Don couldn't muster the strength to look up, let alone turn his head, but he felt warm droplets fall upon his hair. The fog that began swallowing his mind didn't allow him to understand where the water's source was coming from. They dropped rapidly now, dripping enough so that they slid across his own cheeks; they made up for the lack of his own tears. The air that was becoming increasingly hard to keep in his grasp now filled with a tune, a rhythm similar to those he practiced when dancing.

"Je suis désolé, je suis vraiment désolé, oh..."

Don couldn't understand the words, couldn't sing along to the beautiful tune that seemed to hail from Heaven itself. It broke his heart a bit, seeing that one of his greatest attributes was his ethereal singing voice. But the words soothed his soul, and held this wonderous ability to make his eyes feel comfortable closing.

"Oh, mon Dieu... Oh, mon Dieu, pardonne-moi... Pardonne-lui aussi..." Joe heaved, his hands clutching the bloodied skin of Don's torso. His body shook with a might that caused Don's own body to tremor along with his.

Don wished he knew what those words meant. Don wished he could hear the voice sing in his ears forever, let the melody echo throughout the chambers of his fading mind every second of every waking moment. Don's face fell cold, and his body felt as if it was losing its occupation; but fear never crossed his mind when his vision finally began to fade. He loved the hands running up and down his body, loved the warmth cascading against his side, loved the song, he loved this moment. He let his breath soften and slip from his mind's priorities, and now focused on shutting his eyes to rest.

The last thing Don truly felt was the slipping of beads across his collar bones.

-----

Joe removed the rosary from around Don's neck and let its wooden roses slide into a pile inside his unused pocket. He vowed that the blade would make no contact with the necklace.

Joe couldn't and didn't think as he laid the body of his sweet friend down to rest away from his own. He looked once more into the drained yet softened features of Don's face; his lips looked soft against his chin, and his brows no longer furrowed in such a dreadful way. Joe stood for moments, spending minutes staring down at the body now devoid of life on the floor. The worst sight of the entire night was the wound beneath the right side of Don's chest. And even upon staring at it, running his eyes over it again and again, Joe just couldn't think deeper about it.

He turned his back from the death that loomed behind him and exited through the double doors of the room. Joe stalked off into the night, letting the world's air solidify the agonizing tears that stained his cheeks, down to his neck.

END !! thanks 4 reading if u did and thank u 2 anybody who sees this !! now im gonna go ahead and pass out it's 11:45 PM and im sick 🩷

[the-unofficial-village-idiot]

I have so many thoughts about jesse freaking out and instantly going to his parents' house but I cannot put them into coherent words

[milfygerard]

living in the inbetween hell where I dont hate or love ttpd enough to agree with anyone on the dash so im just sort of flinching whenever I see a post about it from any side

[7roaches]

chat is this real 🙁

[an-theduckin]

Wait shit people might actually care about me

[basils-dreamhouse]

yknow something i didnt realize while with them was how little i wanted to vent or open up because they made me feel guilty about it or made it about themself every time i did (even if they didnt mean to, they still did)

and how much im more willing to randomly vent to my friends now and admit im not doing okay or hell, *even tell my boyfriend when i have issues in the relationship*

hindsight is 20/20 for sure, but it's crazy how much has changed in the timespan of a little over half a year just because one person left my life permanently.

it should not have been normalized for me to be scared of telling my partner things.

[bluegarners]

negativity really and truly and sadly ruins enjoyment so easily. practice curating positivity and what you want to see both online and in the interactions you have with others

[theunconcernedembalmer]

Blog directory

I finally decide to organize everything here My Count Blog (Joseph + Claude) // My Embrace Blog (Victor)

Art tag: unconcerned art / unconcerned collab Comics tag: unconcerned comic Mun tag: its me the mun / unconcerned ramblings RPs: unconcerned reply

Events 1. Exorcist event (100 followers) 2. Joseph and Mun event 3. 250 request fest (250 followers) 4. chibi muffin event 5. aesop draws 6. Exorcist 2.0 (400 followers) 7. 550 skin event (550 followers) 8. Fenix/Birdsop (700 followers) 9. mun got a new pen 10. cookie event 11. Gatto event (~800 followers)

Comic series 1. Exorcist event (intro / extra) 2. Modern Ghost AU 3. Exorcist 2.0 (intro) 4. Modern Ghost AU 2 electric boogaloo (in progress)

Miscellaneous tags I happen to have: mersop, simp au, gen/shin flavoured, modern au stuff, the drama tm