#aesthetic : she loved things that had soul
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puppyeared · 10 months ago
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i feel like. theres designing a character with certain themes and motifs in mind, and then theres making a gijinka for the water bottle on my nightstand
#me when im the only person on the bus wearing a mask: i should make a furry plaguesona#its hard to explain bc. most of the time i try NOT to give my characters a 'strong' theme like making their whole design around#one thing like apples or even broad stuff like baking or cottagecore.. idk if its partly for flexibility or because i cant imagine them#making it their whole personality. not bc i find it cringe or overblown but more like ive learned to associate design with character depth#i had a cutesy uwu persona for most of highschool because i thought it would make me more. likeable? easy to remember? since#memorable character designs are easy to recognize. and one way of doing that is simplifying it with a theme or symbol so you form an#association. but since im a real person its exhausting keeping up that appearance all the time and denying myself things when they dont#fit my 'aesthetic' or 'theme.' i think ive grown past that bc i just collect stuff because i think it looks cool and dont let myself dwell#on how it might 'fit' with my image. but i cant help feeling bad doing it to my own characters bc it feels like im making them too one#dimensional. despite knowing that theyre not real and design alone doesnt reflect depth i cant help feeling like its wrong#despite that i love seeing motifs because it feels like it reflects the characters soul and paradoxically gives them depth. it makes them#interesting to look at too and honestly its pretty fun combining things that fall under a similar category when designing#i struggle find a balance between those two things#actually this reminds me of noelles christmas theme.. i dont remember her saying anything abt liking christmas despite a lot of#her design and character tying back to it. it makes me wonder if she would have feelings about that or doesnt think abt it too hard#or if its like a matching family shirts situation and shes just going along with it??#maybe i should just do whatever i want with my character designs since theyre not real and im thinking abt it too hard#although. this probably has something to do with deep seated identity issues huh#yapping#oc talk#oc
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thewritingpossum · 6 months ago
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Currently rereading this french scifi book that's all about a bunch of medievalish people building this absurdly high cathedral (and by 'high' i mean that none of the living human in this book ever got out of what they call the cathedral and touched the actual ground)in an attempt to reach God but then the big plot twist is that the ruling class are actually a bunch of almost immortal alien beings who accidentally crashed on Earth during the actual Middle Ages, need to be at a certain height to launch their rocket and go back to their planet and therefore used the people's faith and whatever ingineering they had at this point to reach their goals, not caring that it would take centuries and centuries because it's litterally just a few hours for them and honestly this could be such a cool movie, somebody please adapt this thing right now
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bloodskinandteeth · 2 years ago
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V ͥ ͮ & V ͥ ͭ ͦ
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fierceathlete · 1 year ago
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tag dump
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mcjesty · 3 months ago
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character study tag dump !
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midnightcitymoon · 3 months ago
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People always speak well of me even in rooms i’m not in & every negative work said about me just makes the speaker look 10x as bad.
———-
Everyone who meets or knows me adores me & is charmed by me so much they’re a little in love with me.
~~~~~~~~
Everyone who fumbled me as both friend & love interest regrets it every day & misses me every day & feels their life is worse without me in it. with no harm to me, so mote it be.
11:11 ☆MiracleMakeAWishComeTrueSpell🌙
Eleven-Eleven, This is a call to all angels in heaven, give me a miracle and make my wish come true!
🌜☄⭐🕤🕙🕦⭐🕯🕯📰🎁🎆🎈🎉🎖🔜🔝🔔🕯💰📰💳📧📭🔥🗝🔮🛡🌟☄🌛🌞🌈
Like to Charge, Reblog To Cast spell
#i always have people to do all the things i want to do and they invite me#everything always works out for me exactly how i wanted or better#every day i get healthier & wealthier & happier & luckier because i flourish & grow in abundance&love&success&wellness with my every breath#i am a master manifestor and a magnet to all good things bc my life is better than a rom com#i am a magnet to successful opportunities and loving relationships#i can have a bm in 45 minutes bc my digestive system is back to how i was when i was 11#i am a successful women’s lifestyle journalist and have the job of my dreams#i have such an amazing life i frequently make stas overwhelmingly jealous#my life is as great as allie’s or better & i get 10x as many opportunities as she’s had to get & have & experience everything i want or mor#all of my wishes come true and the universe/powers that be grant me all that i ask for or better & as ive willed it so it is & so im gratef#i have friends who do cute aesthetic parties & trips with me always included just like juliette d & her friends do#i buy whatever i want because money for fun things comes to me easily in abundance#i am a successful womens magazine writer at conde nast or hearst or meredith magazines#i have a soul tribe and am surrounded by lifelong friends who adore me and really get me#I am a powerful ​witch whose spells & potions always work even better than intended & can manifest instantly&cast spells just w my thoughts#i have new friends who do cute aesthetic parties & trips with me & i’m always included just like juliette d & her friends do#i have that magic it quality&am as charming&magnetic&beloved as stas is 2 every1 who meets or knows me so everyone wants 2 be around me 24/#everyone who hurt me regrets how they treated me and misses me & feels the pain they caused me 10fold with no harm to me#i’m a beauty and fashion journalist by my 30th bday#every day i lose weight from fat and am achieving my ideal body of a tiny waist and hourglass figure and toned arms#my hair is healthy&shiny& does not shed excessively &grows quickly & gets lighter in color every day so its back to strawberry blonde#vic & stas miss me every day & wish they were still friends with me#i have new people and more experiences in my life that excite me and treat me wonderfully#i have a life filled with joy and magical realism & love & success & happiness & good health & fun & abundance & friendship & fulfillment#i am friends with jd & sm & rl & cmcd so i am a welcome & essential part of their friend group & included in all their activities#i am charismatic everyones drawn to me#i am in my reality of highest joy where everything always works out for me or better than i could imagine or ask for#i have a group of close female friends who make a big deal out of my birthday by my 30th bday#my intuition is very strong & gives me clear signs so i trust my own psychicness#kelly misses me & wants us to be bffs again & is a better friend to me constantly than i could ever hope for
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teethless · 11 months ago
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you're what / shocked and disappointed ? i'm evil › ic.
a tussle like that is good for the soul › hc.
getting killed made me feel alive for the very first time › study.
i don't want to be this good looking and athletic / we all have crosses to bear › visuals.
i wasn't lurking / i was standing about / totally different vibe › aesthetics.
creature of the night here yeah ? › answered.
love isn't brains children / it's blood › meta.
i. you're all i bloody think about / dream about / you're in my gut / in my throat / i'm drowning in you › buffy.
i. whatever souls are made of / his and mine are the same › drusilla.
i. i'm sorry i can't save you from everything › dawn.
i. she never treated me like a freak › joyce.
i. it's almost like your my father-in-law in'nt › giles.
i. i'd bite you in a heartbeat › willow.
i. i'm insane / what's his excuse ? › xander.
i. my money's on the witch › tara.
i. had a thing / didn't last › anya.
i. captain cardboard ! › riley.
i. plenty of room / good company › fred.
i. he's a breath of fresh air isn't he ? / good thing i don't breathe › andrew.
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theveryworstthing · 13 days ago
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7th Headless Haunting: The Invisible Woman
A ghost's appearance can change over time depending on the emotional connection to their former lives. This change is involuntary and inconsistent. For some, their form shifts to mirror the cause of their death, or emphasizes some other lasting trauma. Others shift into a metaphorical representation of how they view themselves. But most just look like their living forms until time makes the details slip away. Because if there's no one left to remember them properly, and they can't really remember themselves, that can trigger a disconnection from their physical past. This disconnect causes the "sheet ghost" effect, as the soul loses the shape of its previous container.
It's a sad thing, catching a glimpse of a soul losing their face. But that's part of the cycle of life and death. Everything changes. Everything fades.
Sometimes that fading is even done on purpose.
Morgan doesn't call herself Morgan anymore because she doesn't want to metaphysically dox herself.
Through the efforts of the most annoying woman she's ever met, she's become one of the most famous ghosts in the south. She did not ask for this, she does not want it, and every day she wonders how she could have possibly been charmed into a barely 3 week relationship by someone she had to politely ask to stop making tictoks in the crystal shop constantly. It was easy to blame grief and depression for the drastic lowering of standards but still. Good lord.
She realized her mistake pretty quickly, but then "Luna's" roommate supposedly kicked her out with no warning and a sick cat named Quartz. And past!Morgan, who vividly remembered how much being homeless sucked, didn't want her out on the street.
(Okay, mostly she didn't want Quartz out on the street. He was goofy and sweet and the knowledge that she liked him way more than her new girlfriend made her feel guilty.)
This was a mistake.
She opened her home to them. Payed for emergency cat surgery. Dealt with arguments over filming in the house and random strangers coming over for "guided group spiritual exploration" sessions that she wasn't allowed to be in the room for because Luna was "working". Scrubbed Luna's essential oil covered bare ass marks off of her kitchen counters. And in return, she got this woman inviting something into her home.
One night while Luna was out with friends, it came into Morgan's bedroom and left her head on the other side of the house.
She never figured out exactly what got her, but the dark twisted shape made sure to find her terrified spirit before it left, and she could feel its irritation as it inspected her. She wasn't the right target. Luna owed a dept that she probably didn't even comprehend to something very pissed off.
All this would have been bad enough, but none of it was really worth being a ghost about. She'd had worse relationships, and since grandma was gone, almost all of her loved ones were dead anyway, so she really should have left.
But what about Quartz?
 She was the one handling all of his post operative care, and after watching Luna forget time after time to feed him or give him his meds or even really pay attention to him when he wasn't serving as a cuddly toy to cry on or an aesthetic set piece for videos, she decided to hang around until he was either stable or dead.
Which is how she found out about the haunted house tours.
Luna had been doing this for a while. It seems that every place she had ever lived was "haunted" and she made sure that the internet knew about all the trials and tribulations of being so spiritually gifted in a world filled with such trauma laden souls. She'd been kicked out of her last place for having a pretend spectral affair with her former roommate's dead best friend, and when she moved it didn't take a day for her to "sense something..." and start secretly profiting off of made up shit about Morgan's grandmother.
But now that Morgan was dead she had a goldmine on her hands. The gory, violent, locked room mystery death of a fairly attractive woman wearing nothing but a low cut night gown was already pretty good, but add in the lesbian romance, Morgan's family history, and the fact that Luna's True Love had recently Saved her from an Abusive Environment and Certain Homelessness? Well, that's money baby.
Morgan's friends, bless 'em, had stopped Luna from livestreaming the funeral, and got as many pictures of her body taken down as they could.
Sadly, the fundraiser to purchase her family home for "spiritual conservation" was successful.
She had no idea that her following was that big.
She really should have checked.
Anyway.
Because of Luna she's spent the last 8 years being stalked by the living. Strangers pay to sleep in her bed and record the ambient noises of her room hoping she'll show up and talk to them. They buy books made of private poetry stolen from her journals. They demonize her dead family members and speculate on horrific abuse that didn't happen because "if you pay attention to how she dressed/read between the lines in her writing, there are clues she had serious daddy issues".
Recently, there was a shitty romance novel published based on her death, implying that whatever killed her was simply mad with lust and wanted to make her his dark bride in hell.
Yes "his". Her proxy was straight in that one.
And way slimmer.
That's a reoccurring thing that she tries not to think about too hard.
But the point is that all this mess keeps her from moving on. She just... can't. She spends all her time trying to sabotage Luna's grift as best she can. She exposes all the little tricks Luna uses during her seances to show she's not talking to anyone. She actively keeps other spirits away from the house just in case any of the ghost hunting gear people haul into her living room actually works (it doesn't but better safe that sorry). She never speaks just in case a recording picks something up and she's thrown away chunks of identifying features like her face and most of her tattoos so that if she is spotted, she's harder to identify.
She's spent years staging the most intensive anti-haunting she possibly can.
Quartz died 6 months ago and walked right past the entrance to the rainbow bridge to settle in her lap, just like old times. He tries to lead her away from the house a lot. Into the sunrise, towards her grandma's loud bright laughter and the bustling sounds of a family reunion in full swing.
She wants to follow him so badly.
She just.
Can't.
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morguecuts · 2 months ago
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Incase I’m Not Here
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five hargreeves has a baby with fem!reader  synopsis: five has saved the world from an apocalypse countless times. after creating a loving family of his own, his constant worry that the end will come again unfortunately became true. word count: 1.5k tags: five is a father, fluff, angst, death, a few sad moments authors note: this is one of my most beautiful, yet devastating pieces. i truly love the idea of five being a loving father :(
  ♱⛧ ⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨ ୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆⛧♱ the end of the world was an ongoing tragedy for many years, ruining the lives of billions over and over again, but especially the hargreeves. the umbrella academy, as they were called, spent endless months trying to prevent an apocalypse from occurring. they traveled from timeline to timeline, skipping around decades trying to save themselves and the remainder of earth. 
when the timeline was assumed to be restored, the superhumans had agreed to go separate ways and live their lives. diego and lila created their own family, housing a new timeline version of lila’s birth parents. viktor moved all the way to canada, owning a bar and a gray cat named misty. luther was typically off the grid, except the occasional birthday post for him and all of his siblings. klaus and allison lived together, in a three story house with allison’s daughter claire. 
five hargreeves traveled the world, worrying about the potential upcoming events that would force him and his siblings to reunite in tragedy. he tracked previous timelines, looking for artifacts that hint at a glitch in the system. after the first 5 years of silence, and seeming nothing pointing toward any timeline issues, he began to calm his nerves. 
that’s when he met the mother of his child. she was the light that five never knew he was missing. she ignited a burnt flame deep inside his soul, rekindling the lost inspiration he held for things that were other than research. in addition, her beauty was unmatched to anyone he had ever seen, or met before. her long hair completely covered the back of her body, tracing the outline of her beautiful shape. her perfectly puzzled face made him swoon almost immediately. most importantly, the way that she loved him made him learn to love who he was inside, instead of who people wanted him to be. 
their home was a perfect combination of their personalities. a matte black and white aesthetic, perfectly clean and chic, with a hint of victorian vampire. her feminine touch was visible in all the right places, creating a warm home for the two of them, and anyone else who entered. his headstrong worries of future destruction set up for typically annoying safety procedures, but she didn't mind it. the pair merged together quite beautifully, carbon copies of the other. if five didn’t know any better, which to be fair he actually did, then he would say they were lovers in every possible timeline. 
five was used to living for himself, his siblings, and even the rest of the world. his purpose was always meant to save other people, live for them, protect them. however, now 5 years into the loving marriage with her, he had learned to live for someone who wasn’t superhuman. 
he stood hovering over the clean white bassinet. the small beaded eyes glance up at him, an overwhelming amount of confusion falls over them before turning to love. her small nose scrunching at the sight of him. the few hairs brushed upon her head are slicked down away from her face. her small pursed lips release grumbles and whines at an alarming volume, desiring for the tall suited man to hold her.
“she isn’t going to crumble if you pick her up, five. you have to hold her eventually, she needs to know who her father is.” the child's mother cooed, leaning into his back, wrapping her arms around his waist lovingly. the man sighed into her touch, except it wasn't really there. the air behind him was cold and stiff. his body ached for her, a sense of comfort was quickly turned back into sadness. 
“what if she doesn't like me?” he spoke into the rather empty room. “what if something triggers me to teleport and i hurt her? my only way of protecting her is loving her from a distance.” the water in his eyes glasses over the blue. he reeks of sorrow, insecurity, and fear. 
“you are the one man designed to protect her, my love. don't let what happened in the past make you afraid of what's happening in the present. she’s going to need you, we both know i can't help you anymore. please just pick her up, five.” the voice echoes around him, his eyes narrowing down onto the now sleep filled child. 
he carefully unbuttons the sleeves on his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders and draping it onto the side of the crib. he rolls his white undershirt above his elbows, hyping himself up in the process. the small fragile girl rests on the pillowed surface, her tiny chest rising and falling. his hands carefully wrapping around her body, supporting her head while raising her close to him.
the small being is unlike anything he’s ever seen. tiny hands attached to tiny arms, short legs with the smallest feet. she’s unable to do anything without him. her entire life for the next few years depends on his actions. a small worried smile spreads across his face, admiring the girl leaning against his arms. 
small eyes blink open tiredly, glaring around before landing on her fathers. pure love glistens with the hazel colors swimming around. she makes chirps and squirming noises, slightly frightening five in the process. he takes mental notes on all of her little features. definitely her mothers eyes and lips, but his nose. truly the perfect combination of the two lovebirds. tears form in his eyes when he sees her smile, a miniature yet exact replica that once belonged to her mother. 
a faint knock taps upon the nursery door, the caretaker is chattering unknown words outside. theres a moment of silence before she enters the room, glancing at five with the baby cradled lovingly in his embrace. he turns around at the sound of her appearance, looking into her puzzled face. “there’s been a call for you, it's from your sister in law.” her eyes are firm and strong, holding his gaze causing him to pause for a moment. 
“and what did she say?” he turns his back to her again, slowly rocking the baby back into her peaceful rest.
“a briefcase was found in new york this morning. i’m so sorry, but it’s starting, sir.” she holds her hands together in front of her body, head dipping into her chest. 
“how long do we have?” five knows his constant worrying would eventually lead to this. he thought by spending endless hours hunting down glitches in the timeline, he could find a cause, find a solution, but nothing ever came until now.
“they don't know anything yet. it could be weeks, months, possibly even years. i’ve been told it's not severe, but that doesn't mean that it won't become so.” the sorrow in her voice runs deep, an unfortunate sigh escapes her lips. 
his stillness is deafening, the room has a slight buzzing noise from the house's electricity, but otherwise is completely silent. the babe shifts in his arms, nuzzling into him for better warmth and comfort. it is at this exact moment that everything clicks into place. she is his new purpose, and she will be his future. if anything is to go wrong, he would sacrifice his life for her without a question. nothing will ever be able to cause harm to her as long as he is alive.
his mind races thinking of the possibilities, will she have powers like him? will she be as headstrong as him? will she be accurately able to save the world if he is no longer alive to do so himself? The caretaker takes a step backwards, beginning to leave the room before his voice breaks the silence. “i need parchment, as much as you can physically gather.” his words are cold, and demanding, nothing that he has ever been towards her before. “and pens as well, as many pens as you can find me. i have work i must do before it's too late.” he begins to lie the child back into her bassinet, gently wrapping her back into the warmth of the bed. “yes sir, is there anything else?” the caretaker steps towards the door once more, ready to step into motion as requested. five’s eyes scan over every inch of his beloved offspring, a protective concern washed over his face. “yes actually, the albums from the attic please. i want her to be able to recognize her family when things go south.” his comment is quieter, more personal and calm. the caretaker whisks away, leaving the man and his daughter alone once more.
“you will never be alone” a gentle hand brushes small hairs away and out of her face. rubbing her small, chubby cheeks before pulling back. “i will guide you through everything that i possibly know, you will not fail this world.” his feet step back from the white wooden crib, reaching for the black jacket that was hung upon it earlier that night. slipping into it before exiting the room, heading toward his office.
 ♱⛧ ⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨ ୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆⛧♱
thank you so much for reading!
i hope you’ve enjoyed it, please feel free to make any comments or story requests down below. any support is always appreciated <3
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judge-tenderly · 7 months ago
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riz and adaine are the brain: obviously. but also because they have both at some point been ruled by their neuroses, they live in their heads, have been told their entire lives that the thing they are good for is their intelligence. it is what they can give to other people.
fabian and fig are the body: in completely different ways. fabian thought he knew his body when he was just fighting with it but it failed him. he had to learn to trust it again - to trust his instincts as well as what he’d been told his entire life. his instincts told him to dance, and he weaved that in with his fighting skills for both more complete control over his body and trust in it when he isn’t in control. this leads us into fig - instincts. she’s never completely felt fused to her own body the way most people do. it’s hers to with what she wants, including making it other people completely. those other people are still her though. she never sits with one thing, but moves fluidly wherever her instincts tell her to whether it makes sense or not. one of the coolest things a body can do is called the flexor / withdrawal reflex. when you touch a hot stove and pull back your hand before you’ve even registered the pain. the only time (that i know of) that your sensory receptors tell your muscles to move instead of relaying information to the brain and letting it decide. you literally have no choice whether or not you pull your hand back. your body decides for you. this is fig’s entire life. people often think the strongest, healthiest bodies are the biggest, sturdiest ones. yet often it’s the annoying bitches that do the most yoga, strength in flexibility. something fig (and now also) fabian have in spades.
kristen is the soul: seemingly inconsistent and ever changing, the only way kristen changes is cosmetically. she struggles so hard to find a god that makes sense for her because she’s not just finding her god. she’s finding a god for all the bad kids. because at the core of her, she is trying to do what is right, what is kind, what is best for everyone else. she wants to help people, save people. even if she doesn’t go about it the right way (ie immediately trying to convert everyone to helio on her first day) she is just trying to help. no matter what god she has, or who she’s faced with - that’s never changed. the soul is forever, and despite all aesthetics, so is kristen.
gorgug is the heart. because of course he is. “it’s gorgug keep going.” bum bum “it’s gorgug. keep. going.” he keeps them there, all together, all in sync when their differences threaten to overrule their similarities. he pulls them back in with the gravity axe he made for love of his parents and the culture that raised him. with the courage he had to stand up and declare he would in fact do the impossible. bum bum.
“it’s gorgug keep going.”
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superectojazzmage · 1 year ago
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My Adventures With Superman is honestly a really impressively good example of how you can make an adaptation radically different and new while still doing justice to the source material by just approaching said source from a place of love and respect. The show is unabashedly and upfrontly meant to be a very explorative and experimental take on Superman that does the classic premise in new ways, revamped for another time and medium.
So many of the characters, designs, aesthetics, and world feel so extremely unfamiliar and unlike “traditional” Superman. But it still FEELS like Superman. The core, the spirit, the SOUL is absolutely and unmistakably there. The characters are all incredibly in-character and instantly recognizable. The plotting and writing feels straight off the page of the comic.
Even with major reinventions, this is so obviously and clearly Superman. Not some hoary “deconstruction” or obnoxiously self-aware “parody”, it’s just unabashedly honest-to-God played absolutely straight Superman. Even through all the changes, it’s that same classic, undistilled, nostalgic vibe of a Superman comic with Clark as a lovable, goofy guy with powers trying to be an example to the world, fighting crazy bad guys, helping old ladies across the street, and winking to the reader after Lois and Jimmy fail to see through his disguise yet again before cringing because Perry yelled at him for calling Perry “chief” again.
Hot, overeager tomboy Lois Lane is a bit different from usual but she’s so clearly still that same gorgeous would-be star reporter that every Superman falls in love with. Jimmy has been reimagines as kooky conspiracy buff, but he’s still ultimately Superman’s Pal who gets into wacky situations by virtue of being Superman’s Pal. Perry, Lombard, Ronnie, and Cat are all very different from the comics superficially — hell, Ronnie has had his gender flipped — but they are all still instantly recognizable as the same eccentric bunch of newsfolk they were there. Livewire and the Intergang members are all totally changed but at their center, they’re the same; same powers and gimmicks, etc.. Dr. Ivo is now a douchey techbro and yet he’s still fulfilling the very same role he does in the comics as a self-centered mad scientist who creates things that spiral beyond his control. Even Parasite, the most radically altered of all to the point of no longer being sentient, is still identifiable as his core concept of a monster that feeds on the lifeforce of others and becomes more powerful as he does, while also weakening when he can’t do so.
I really, really like it. It’s a wonderfully imaginative and well-put-together take on a very old series that really brings the concept into the modern age in a way that hasn’t really been done successfully outside the comics since the DCAU back in the 90s and early 2000s. People writing Superman or just superhero fiction in general should absolutely take notes from this show.
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astrow1zar6 · 10 months ago
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Astro Observations- 23
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In some cases your mothers moon sign is usually the same sign as your 7th house
Libra Venuses are really into cosmetics, whether that be skin care, makeup products, hair care. They are most likely to go into beauty school as a career
Venus in 1st house men can be very feminine, I know a lot of male hairdressers and beauticians (that are straight) with this placement. The men with this placement really appreciate feminine beauty.
On the flip side Mars in the 1st house women tend to be pretty masculine. I had a friend who would only wear boy/baggy clothes because she believed her body was too “masculine “ so she believed feminine clothes looked bad on her. They most likely grew up tomboys.
I know a lot of aqua moons that are highkey fruity but never come out the closet. It’s very consistent with this placement idk why. most of them I notice never come out or not till later in life but it’s obvious usually.
Mars in the 5th house individuals start their relationships really fast just for them to end just as quickly
The sign in your 8th house is usually the sign you’re either extremely attracted too to the point where they’re intimidating or your very repulsed by this sign.
Cancer suns can be more obsessed with finding love then Libras (especially with a Leo moon)
Leo moons have an easier time finding their soul mates than most I notice. I think their hearts are so authentic and genuine that attracting someone with the same vibe is usually effortless with them.
Venus conjunct the ascendant in the 1st house are huge pick me girls. If u met someone with this placement ik uk. Especially when it’s in libra or Gemini. Very aesthetically pleasing to look at though.
If I had a dollar for everytime a Virgo moon complains or corrects you I’d probably solve world hunger.. but seriously these people are always complaining or nagging about something. These people are also not afraid to correct you a 100,000 times, u say one thing logically incorrect and they will go on a lecture on how it’s this & not that. They do make good points but it can be extreme sometimes.
Venus in virgo 🤝 being celibate for no reason even when in a partnership
Virgo placements either look like foxes or vintage dolls
Aqua moons/Venus have the most outta pocket playlists. They will listen to the oddest music lol.
Pisces moon men don’t know what to do unless they have someone constantly helping them. They can be very lazy & have abnormally low energy at times. They usually do better however when dating someone. They can be very codependent tho (unless that have a lot of earth & fire placements)
All cancer sun women remind me of Cassie from Euphoria (don’t kill me cancers)😭
Jupiter in the 8th house is probably the most difficult house for Jupiter to be in. Jupiter is literally expands the 8th house thru your life and 8th house themes can be quite ruthless. You could however receive a big inheritance somewhere in your life.
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whatswrongwithblue · 17 days ago
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Reader does actually try to walk off a cliff and Alastor catches them and gets furious and sexy about it and pounds Vexi... I mean reader into the mattress so hard she can't walk anymore and he ends up laughing saying 'let's see you try to do that again now your legs won't work'
Beta'd by @inuhalfdemon
For my darling @redvexillum, I know you're Overtime Vexi right now; working hard on the Discord server, keeping up with daily Kinktober posts, and also literally working an IRL job. This is a no pressure gift to you. Read when you have time and need a little pick me up. I even based Reader off of your avatar on your blog and used language specifically from my favorite fic of yours . . . you know the one *wink wink*.
TRIGGER WARNINGS!: suicide ideation, suicide attempt, depression, mental illness, dissociation, possesive Alastor, Alastor owns Reader's soul, sex as punishment, angry sex, oral (fem receiving), p/v sex, shadow tendrils/tentacles, bondage, use of a gag, overstimulation, lack of aftercare, begging, dom/sub dynamic.
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Falling
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The warm night breeze ghosted through your hair; a gentle lover’s caress across the back of your neck. It calmed your nerves as you looked down at the drop below and you closed your eyes, thinking you could almost hear the wind telling you to take that final step.
Just one little step.
A few seconds of falling.
Then darkness. Nothing. Peace.
The wind kicked up a little harder, fanning out your wings, and nearly making you lose your balance. You gasped and flailed your arms, catching your balance before you fell.
A stupid lingering human instinct to save yourself. Your body’s nervous system fighting against what your mind desperately wanted.
You took a deep, steadying breath in, and tucked your wings in. They were tiny; pink and membranous things that seemed more for aesthetic than any kind of purpose. It’s not like you could fly with them. They were no more useful than your asymmetrical horns when it came to that skill only very few Sinners were lucky enough to have. And they weren’t even very demonic looking, as far as demon appendages went. Both your horns and your wings were pink, slightly darker shades than the pastel of your skin and hair. Even your fucking irises were pink.
While you quite loved pink as a human, it just felt insulting down in Hell. Like every other aspect of your demon visage. Useless. Infantile. Boring.
Nearly making you fall to your death by being caught in a sudden gust of hot air was the only favor your wings had ever done for you.
Not that you would permanently die, you lamented. Eventually you would re-spawn somewhere within the city. But re-spawning took hours, sometimes even days. And in that time would be nothing. When you were alive you always joked about wishing that you could just take your brain out of your skull, like a temporary death, just to quiet the awful thoughts and feelings your malfunctioning organ plagued you with day and night.
Here in Hell, you could actually do that. Again and again, if you so chose to.
All you had to do was jump.
Maybe it wasn’t worth it. When you came back, Alastor would certainly hunt you down and find you. And you could just see the disappointment in his face. Hear the disgust in his voice. How lowly he would think of his darling then, that she would perform such an empty and pathetic act.
But then again, he was going to find out who you were at your core eventually. Better to rip the bandage off and make him face just how truly damaged you were before you continued to waste his time further. He was bound to get tired of pulling you out of your depressed funks after enough time had gone by. And what good did you bring to his life anyway?
You were a distraction.
He had snapped that to you earlier that evening when you had interrupted his work at the hotel. Those last stinging words echoed through your mind, branding themselves into your grey matter so that you never forgot them.
Well, you wouldn’t be distracting him anymore after this stunt. He wouldn’t bother with you afterwards.
And if you found you really did enjoy the nothingness that came between death and re-spawning, the extermination wasn’t far away. All you had to do was stand in front of an exorcist and simply not move as they brought their blade down on you. Then it would truly be an eternity of peace and quiet for you.
No more distractions.
The thought came to you bitterly as you considered that Alastor was the one who had been distracting you. All these months of his attention, of him making you his darling, of him making you fall in love with him, had just distracted you for a while. But now the pain was back, worse than ever, with one small argument between you two and you realized if it wasn’t for him, you likely would have jumped off this roof months ago.
You could have let it all go during the last extermination, while everyone else was huddled safely inside the hotel.
What a waste of time. A useless, boring, distracting life.
A deep breath. A single tear sliding down your cheek. A last thought of warmth and safety whispering through your mind . . .
“Alastor.”
His name left your lips like a prayer and an apology.
You took a step over the ledge.
The street below became your entire field of view as you lost your footing entirely.
And then the world glitched.
Colors blended in choppy formation and static screamed in your ears, threatening to burst your ears drums. Everything was fuzzy and going dark and a strange tingling filled your body, like your very blood had turned to static.
And then you were back on your own two feet, standing face to chest with the red and black pinstriped suit you knew so well.
Unnaturally large claws had you by the shoulders and you tilted your head up, taking in the full view of a very angry Radio Demon.
Alastor towered over you, his antlers spread wide, his eyes turning like radio dials, and he lifted you up like you weighed nothing until you were face to face and your feet were dangling several feet in the air.
“What the fuck was that?” he snarled, his voice even more full of static than you were used to.
Your eyes went wide at the use of vulgarity from him. You could count with your two useless wings how many times you had heard him swear before and never had it been directed at you.
When you didn’t answer right away, he shook you, calling you by your real name rather than darling, which he never did. He demanded an answer but all you could manage was a little whimper before you broke.
Your chin quivered and you felt the swell of tears in your eyes as a sob squeezed your chest and erupted out.
“I’m sorry,” you choked out and then slowly, ever so gently, you felt yourself being lowered to the ground and then your face was pressed against the soft fabric of Alastor’s suit. His bow tie tickled the side of your face and his scent, heady with Spanish moss and cypress, and some other uniquely Earthy smell that was entirely him, filled your senses.
“Darling,” he said quietly, “my darling . . . why?”
You could barely breath through your sobs, let alone speak, so it took you a moment to gather the strength to answer. Clutching at the back of his jacket, you pressed your face into him harder, trying to hide your reasoning, bury your shame, pretend like every pathetic part of you didn’t exist.
But he had seen, hadn’t he? He had watched you take that step, had come up here to find you and seen that final microsecond when there was nothing but air between you and the ground below.
And he had altered reality to bring you back to him. To save you.
Half of you hoped that meant he really did love you like you loved him. Like he promised every day that he did, even though you never quite believed it.
The other half of you whispered an insipid little lie that was too tempting to not consider  . . . that this whole stunt of yours was just another distraction.
“I don’t want to be a bother anymore,” you finally whispered, hiccupping and choking as you struggled to speak.
Alastor went stiff around you, and you thought then that he would finally push you away. Agree that you really were just a bother. That if he were to ever shackle himself to another soul, it certainly wouldn’t be to such a weak little wretch as yourself.
Instead, his long, clawed fingers grasped you by your chin, forcing you to look up at him. And though his expression was often hard to read, the strain in his smile showed anger while the burning in his ruby eyes showed pain.
“What gave you the idea that you could do such a thing? That I would allow it?”
“Wha . . . what?”
“You’re mine now, darling.” He pulled on your chin, forcing you on tip toe as he brought your face closer to him. “You belong to me and I don’t let what belongs to me just fly away. It seems you have forgotten that.”
His claws were digging into your cheeks and along your jaw line, stinging and threatening, even as he brought his lips down and gave you the gentlest kiss on the forehead.
 
“Perhaps I need to remind you of that,” he whispered to you, his voice low and tender, crackling with a passion you couldn’t misplace. He was angry, you realized, oh yes he was furious with you. But as the world went fuzzy once again, and you felt the familiar sensation of melting into shadow, and your soul blended with his, you could literally feel that burning rage inside of him being twisted and morphed into more direct emotions. Lust and desire filled what was left of your identity as Alastor transported you through the ceiling and walls of the hotel and into your room.
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Now this was flying.
Alastor had sat you at the foot of your bed, making quick work of removing your underwear, lifting your pleated skirt above your hips, and kneeling before you, all before you had come down from the bizarre and disorienting high of being nothing but shadow with him.
Now you were reduced to a shell of a person, thoughtless and detached from your feelings and in the best of ways, as Alastor’s tongue made your nervous system aware of nothing else but the bundle of nerves between your legs.
Your knees were resting on his shoulders and already shaking as his tongue twisted and lapped at your clit, occasionally giving the swollen pearl a hard suck, as two fingers pumped into your core, working to pull a second climax from you.
Distantly you were aware of the flutter of your wings; a helpless reflex, along with the tremble of your legs. Tears streamed down your cheeks, though you paid that no mind either. Even if you had noticed them, you wouldn’t be able to place which emotion was drawing them from your eyes.
You only knew that this feeling; the intense physical sensation of Alastor turning you into a whimpering, wanton mess, allowed you to dissociate in the best of ways and everything that had tormented you to the point of standing on that cliff’s edge was completely forgotten.
The fingers of one of your hands wrapped themselves in a white-knuckled grip around his antler while your other hand found purchase in his red locks and you sobbed out his name as you came again.
Just as your walls began to clench, Alastor pulled himself from your clutches, leaving your cunt to clench needfully onto nothing. The abrupt lack of touch right at the beginning of your orgasm was torture and in his absence you pressed your legs together, searching for any friction that would allow for a fraction of the satisfaction his tongue and fingers should be giving you.  
“Now, now, dear,” Alastor tutted, and you felt your legs forced back apart. “Remember, I’m here to make a point. And that point is . . .” You looked down to see tendrils of shadows spreading your legs farther open, tangling themselves around your thighs and hips. “. . . You’re mine.” He began undoing the top of his trousers. “And  any rash decisions,” he pushed his trousers down below his waist, “like trying to jump off buildings,” he pulled his cock free and you salivated at the sight of its red and swollen tip already weeping pre-cum for you, “or pleasuring yourself without permission,” he leaned over you, his tense and wicked smile inches away from your lips as his took a painful fistful of your hair, “will be met with severe punishments.”
You swallowed, daring to meet his eyes with your own submissive, watery ones, and nodded.
“There’s my darling I know and cherish,” he said sweetly. His fingers left your hair and traced along your jaw until they came to your lips.
“And now that we’re at an understanding,” he snapped his fingers and your clothes vanished, “let’s see how well you can take your punishment.”
His cock thrust into you as black tendrils slithered their way up the rest of your nude body, pinning you in place. They teased and stroked every erogenous zone with lovely tenderness, their touch soothing and affectionate even as they forced you to near absolute stillness. In stark contrast, Alastor pounded into you, stretching you to the point of burning and igniting the still burning embers of your last orgasm that Alastor had left unfinished.
You came within seconds, your walls spasming hard against the fat width of his cock. Alastor drove on as if he hadn’t noticed, deep enough to hit the blind end of your depths with every forward thrust. The bruising combination left a dull cramp in your belly as your climax went on for several more moments, an intense combination of pleasure and pressure.   
After the quaking within your core subsided, you went limp within the clutches of the shadows. Three orgasms as intense as the ones you had just experienced were more than enough to placate your mind and body and your teary eyes now began to droop with sleepiness.
And yet Alastor was clearly not finished with you.
“Alastor,” you pleaded, knowing he still hadn’t come but you intended to beg for him to be a little gentler with you until he had. Instead of letting you speak, however; a tendril that had been near your throat laced itself through your open mouth and synched itself around your head, effectively gagging you.
The only response you got from your lover was an angry red glow of his eyes as they narrowed onto you, before he gripped your thighs with his claws and continued on with his brutal pace.
Too much, too much, too much, you internally screamed, a fresh torrent of hot tears burning down your cheeks. Your teeth sunk into the meat of the tentacle between your lips and you strained against the ones holding your wrists down to the bed.
The brutal pace of your punishment went on for several more minutes; an eternity for your overstimulated sex. Everything between your ribs and your thighs burned and ached from the ceaseless, intrusive rhythm of Alastor’s body against yours. Inside and out, he continued to savagely ravish you, until there was nothing else for you to do but begin to silently cry and take the punishment he was dolling out.
Alastor pulled out of you with a suddenness that both relieved and confused you. Your throbbing cunt ached from what it had just been through but as your eyes met his, you felt an emptiness within you. Still wrapped in tentacles, you glanced down at his glistening cock before you looked back up at the sharp tooth smile on the face of the man that you feared and loved above all else.
He still looked as pissed off as ever but there was a softness at the corner of his eyes that hinted at concern and you knew him well enough to know he was worried he might have taken things to far.
As you felt the shadow tentacles begin to loosen around you, you felt a emotion so long-forgotten you almost didn’t recognize it.
Confidence.
And with that thought, you wordlessly turned yourself around until your lay on your belly, exposing your backside and the tiny pink wings you knew Alastor loved to play with whenever he was angry.
A moment came and went and you were just beginning to wonder if you had misread the owner of your soul. You opened your mouth to speak his name once more but before you could utter a syllable, you felt your arms yanked back by the wrists and a powerful tendril wrap around your throat, holding you face down into the mattress.
The shadows that were still around your hips tightened and forcefully lifted your ass into the air and you braced yourself a second before Alastor’s cock slammed back into you, filling you back up to completion and eviscerating that feeling of emptiness.
Tired and spent as you were, you moaned aloud and squeezed his member with every last bit of strength you had within your spongey walls.  
You felt the long, slow drag of his retreating cock sliding against every sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you before another snap of Alastor’s hips had it rocketing back into you.
“Say it,” he commanded and you shuddered with your whole body, knowing what he wanted to hear.
“I’m your darling,” you replied, breathless and yet moaning again as he rewarded you with another thrust.
“And?”
“I belong to you.” He matched this thrust with a gentle stroke of a shadow across the membrane of one of your wings. “Mmmmmm, more,” you begged, as your wings gave a tiny, involuntary flap at the feather light touch.
But he had stilled behind you, waiting for your needfulness to build until you were begging.
“Please,” you sobbed out, feeling your chin quiver as all the emotions of the night came rushing back to you. “I’m sorry, Al’. I’m so sorry.”
As you spoke, the touching of your wings and the powerful movement of his cock began anew. You blabbered on, afraid if you stopped talking, the pleasant sensation of his touch within you and above you would end.
“I love you. I’ll never leave you. I’ll never even think about leaving you ever again. Not in anyway. Not even when your angry with me. Not even when I hate myself. Because I’m yours and I’ll always be yours. I’m so sorry, Alastor. Please don’t stop. Please, you feel so good. Fill me up, love. Because I’m your darling and I’ll be good from now on, please just fill me up. I’m your good girl and I love you and I want to feel you inside me. Please, please, oh God Al’, you feel so good, I’m – I’m – I-”
With a painful pull on your wrists you felt all the way into your shoulders, you felt him spill his seed within you as his body tense and every shadow of his went impossibly taut around you. The heat of his cum burned your walls and spilled down your inner thighs, coating you and marking you as his, and you came along with him, screaming into the sheets. Every tendril bruised into your skin, leaving marks around your throat, breasts, wings, hips, and thighs, as Alastor lost all control, even as he continued to pound into you with an uneven and desperate pace.
Everything blurred as you came down from the high together. You felt your muscles turn to jelly and give out in the final moments of your climax, just in time to feel Alastor finally still and begin to soften before he pulled out.
After several serene moments had gone by, the sheets beneath you began to move and pull away. As if in a dream, you felt your body being moved up the bed and then Alastor’s weight joined next to you as you were tucked into bed. Without being cleaned and without a word of praise or love, which he usually included in an aftercare routine for you.
But you knew, deep within the fog of your exhausted mind, that you deserved this. You would wake up in the morning marked by the bruises and the sticky mess between your legs, and only then would you be allowed to shower and heal yourself.
“Thank you,” you murmured with closed eyes as he finished tucking you in. “I don’t think I can move after that, let alone walk.”
An amused, deep chuckle came from Alastor before he pinched your cheek hard enough to make your eyes snap back open.
He got up from the bed, now fully dressed, and straightened his bow tie and monocle before marching towards the door with a pleased and arrogant look on his face.
“Good, my darling. That’s good. Let’s see you try to pull that nonsense again now that your legs don’t work. Sweet dreams,” he added as he opened the bedroom door and gave you one last warning smile before he slammed the door behind him, hard enough to knock a few decorations off the walls.
You sighed as you heard a lock clicking into place, knowing his point was made, and that he was still very much angry with you. But the storm had passed, for both of you. You relaxed into the soft pillow and closed your eyes, the first smile in days touching your lips as you drifted off to sleep.
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Note
Ok but imagine 42! Miles with a s/o who's literally the complete opposite of him in terms of aesthetic but she helps him when he's the prowler. Like nobody would expect the sweet, energetic, girl with the "Mabel pines" energy to be the gal in the chair for the prowler and making his weapons and at the same time being his girlfriend. They're a literal force to be reckon with.
Complete opposites but totally work
(I love this and so sorry it took so long but enjoy!)
Mabel Pines!Reader
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You guys work very, very well together
I can't even describe it very well but it's like yin and yang
He was absolutely gobsmacked on how smart you actually could be
Because not mean, he thought of you as a sort of airhead for a while
But he actually found it quite cute or adorable on you
But he did find out very quickly that y'all have very, very different aesthetics
To be frank you look like a rainbow threw up on you
While Miles is all gloomy and dark over there
So safe to say you throw some glitter in him and force him to be colorful
He finds it hard sometimes to keep up with your energy
But it good for him
His mama absolutely LOVES you
She sees how much Miles loves you just due to the light you bring into his eyes
You can give this man anything and he will pretend to not like it but raise hell if you try and take it back
You guys proudly watch the news of worried women and men on TV talking about jobs you guys pulled and tryna catch you guys
Y'know those sassy guys we see in Tiktoks?
He's that sassy guy with you when you make him mad or annoyed
Knees facing the other way with his whole body while he side eyes you
But he can't resist you for very long
He actually was quite shocked when he found out you had a little dark side
He always saw you looking on the bright side of things
So you partaking in his Prowler activities, much less MAKING the shit for them, absolutely shocked him
He found it quite hot though I can't lie
You're absolutely right when you're completely different but work so well together
Even Uncle Aaron saw it
He uses you sometimes as a little diversion
A fake damsel in distress might I say
He never actually puts you in danger a you can very much so handle yourself but he's always lurking around the corner in these situations
You are an absolute monster at anything Miles needs
New gloves? Done
New mask? Done
Fucking Ray gun? Why didn't he ask sooner? Here, it's in your bag
You absolutely stick little stickers on his crap as well
You can't help yourself
But he absolutely loves it
You sit in the chair looking all pretty but can turn intimidating real quick as he's sitting on the arm chair
Y'know those scenes where the bad guy asks their "dumb/weird" henchman like
"I have no idea…how about we ask (Name)?"
Those type of scenes and you can come up with the best shit he didn't even think of
Absolutely soul mates
Anyway, enjoy this little scene I made:
Miles breathed heavily, leaning against the wall on the rooftop to the door to go back down to his home. He was dressed as the Prowler, breathing labored from a fight.
Miles tried to breathe the best he could, even succeeding for a moment before his eyes snapped open as he heard the shudder of a phone camera and a flash.
Miles' eyes widened, hand in front of him as the flash died and he saw you standing there, blank faces and camera held out in front of you.
Miles and you stared at one another for a moment, nothing to say at all.
"Is that carbon fiber?" You suddenly spoke up.
"...what?-" Miles blinked, barely able to process this before you almost jumped on him.
"Ooh! How did you make this?!" Miles couldn't even breathe and before he knew, his helmet was in your hands as you went on.
"This material is tough enough but you know I could make a much better one if-" you rambles on, an excitement to your voice Miles knew all to well as you flipped over the mask in your hands
"Wait– hold on." Miles held his arms out, effectively causing a pause in your rant as you stared back at him.
"Y'know who I am…right?" Miles asked, slowly and almost trying to be intimidating.
"Um…the Prowler?" You muttered, utterly confused as you tilted your head, holding the helmet to your chest.
"Yeah?!" Miles exclaimed, eyes wide and hands held out like he was trying to get a point across.
"Mhm. Is this like…a trick question, or…?" You asked, completely unbothered by it all as you looked down at the mask, examining it as you merely glanced up at him.
"No! Just- why are you so calm about this?" Miles asked, shocked as well.
"Well, it's not really shocking. You sorta have the backstory of a villain, anyway." You shrugged, staring dead at him.
"...seriously?"
"Well, kinda. Sorry, is this like a bad time for you?" You asked, still not handing over the mask as you held it over your head, almost trying to put it on.
"No, just, you can't tell anyone about this." Miles said, grabbing the mask to hold it in place and off your head, almost dangerously close to your face.
"I mean, I'm not? But-" you started and Miles almost rolled his eyes at your excited expression.
"I can help you!" You stated, biting your lip in excitement as you almost glowed from the glitter on you.
"Help…me?" Miles raised a brow.
"Yeah! Everyone thinks I'm dumb, but I have dirt on everyone. Everyone. And, not a lotta people notice I'm there so I can get you a lot of info, or like- routes and stuff. I'm also good with my hands."
You went on proudly, Miles looking between you and your hand which held his helmet.
It took a moment, Miles going over it all in his head.
He finally sighed.
Miles opened the door to the stairwell, gesturing inside as your eyes widened in shock before you actually smiled, hurrying inside quickly as you rambled on.
Miles followed after you, a seemingly annoyed expression on his face, but the dust of pink across his cheeks from your smile gave him away.
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@mushystrawberries @sweetheartlizzie07 @itstooearly-its3am @Ihavetoexist @kaorussgf @samsketchezz @yas-v @lovelymiaablogss @sussybaka10 @shisuishoe @sairavity @moonlight-rosevine @spectr3inl0ve @najiiix @popeheywardssecretgf @onginlove @sylisan @onginlove
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sabrondabrainrot · 3 months ago
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Bring back LAES!
I'm steadily making progress on catching up on sun and moon show along with foxy and monty etc etc but it's pretty difficult when one of the main key plot lines is gone. I know a few spoilers thanks to fanfiction but I want to see the drama in person.
Here's some outfit ideas for tsams cause I'm a sucker for fashion and redesigns!
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Order is, SolarFlare - Lunar - NewMoon - Old Moon - Sunny (Solar's dimension) - Sun
closeups and more brainrot under the cut!
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Explaining my redesigns! Lunar - he's not really a redesign and more so an overdesign. I love adding tons of little details to him to really hammer home his star-ness. He's such an interesting little guy, like yes he acts childish but I can see he's really growing (SAD I CANT WATCH MORE CAUSE THE SHOW IS GONE). I saw the ep he killed Eclipse and homeboy revived. The entire time I was like "Waaahh Lunar??? Waaahhh???" but I love the drama ngl.
SolarFlare - Same as Lunar, not really a redesign I just drew him with no dirt. I really love his base design it's so neat it makes me think of like sci-fi concepts from the 80's. Something from fallout really. I think it's kind of funny Eclipse's aesthetics for SolarFlare when you compare him next to say Jack who Solar designed.
OldMoon - I just wanted to give him a sleek mad scientist cool guy suave vibe. I saw the more recent thumbnails of him with a turtle neck and idk that's just peak character design for me. I'm a simple woman put the dumb-dumb in a dark turtleneck. I want him to kind of look like the BadGuy TM (he's not actually) so he gets all edgy and hard edges and stuff.
NewMoon - I wanted to do a similar color scheme but instead he has lighter colors like more white incorporated into his fit. To give him the whole 'reborn' aesthetic. He's all like "old moon wore black well I wear white now I'm nothing like him so hah!" kinda thinking. I gave his cap a fur texture cause of that one ep he turned into a furry. I drew rounder stuff on him cause he's a big ol' softy sweety pie.
Sunny - Sunny is my headcanon of Sun from Solar's dimension. I think it's really interesting his default with no personality was theater performance and not say...doing daycare stuff? I feel like honoring the FNAF books with this design by leaning heavily into the theater performer look. I like to think in Solar's dimension Sun and Moon were originally made for theater. (so far in the show I've noticed Creator says 'they needed a daycare attendant' something like that so it comes off more like they were intended for the daycare from the start VS. Solar's dimension where Sunny's core seems to be more so for the performing arts.) I also wanted to make Sunny look different from Sun for the extra angst potential of "They're similar but not the same" so I leaned more into a blue palette for him.
Sun - I just wanted to give him big puffy everything. I took away the tutu. nothing against the tutu I just hate drawing the damn thing. I like to think Sun in main has white eyes because he's so burnt out from within. *badum tish* (eyes are the window to the soul-) I also covered him in stickers because he totally would just be covered in stickers from the kids. I also decided to give some of his rays cracks because I think he's extremely sentimental and even in a newly upgraded body (after using star power to defeat Eclipse the first time) he'd keep rays from his original body? I also put the cracks ones on the side of his face where Old Moon hit him. Why? Because it just seems like something Sun would do. I love him so.
Ok just some brainrot stuff, look away to avoid spoilers .
RUIN DESTROYED HOW MANY DIMENSIONS?? SOLARS DEAD. LUNAR KILLED ECLIPSE. DARK SUN IS PLOTTING??? MOON BE CRYING??? Also Francine just had a birthday! ONE OF THE BLOODMOON BOYS ARE DEAD AND SAME WITH ONE OF THE STITCHY BOYS??? HELLO?!?
I love the drama.
Also, I love how every single kid vibe checks Sun and he passes every time. Francine? She loves Sun and learns from him. FC? He ONLY feels safe with Sun for a bit. Barry? He hugged Sun after gonad checking him (a right of passage for the bunny kid). Jack? I'm pretty sure he literally is just one room away from Sun at all times (he also calls Sun's cats his master???). I have yet to see Dazzle, but Dazzle 10000% loves Sun (I've seen the edits).
ALSO? When Lunar was first brought into the family the first person he hugged was Sun and then later on when Earth was in danger he ran into SUN's arms for safety/comfort. They're family your honor.
Sobbing and Crying laying on the floor over Solar's death but I think he'll be back.
Also the molten thing with Ruin? I'm excited to see more.
I don't have a youtube account to post about saving LAES but if anyone wants me to draw more LAES just to help the community please let me know. I'm planning to draw my idea of Earth next.
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aventurineswife · 12 days ago
Note
I would like to ask which of the HSR characters would be their favorite type of Goth Girl and how they interact with the goth girl reader.
HSR characters and their favourite type of Goth Girl
Hmm, that's a good question! I'm not very familiar with fashion, so I had to look up the different subtypes(?) and styles of Gothic fashion. Here’s what I came up with, but keep in mind—this is just my opinion on these specific characters!
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Blade – Traditional or Occult Goth
Blade would gravitate towards a goth style that embodies the Traditional or Occult Goth aesthetic—dark, intense, and reminiscent of ancient mysteries. This style complements his own fractured soul and aligns with his sense of danger and fatalism.
Blade would admire her goth style in a quiet, intense way. He’d likely avoid compliments, but his lingering gaze would speak volumes. Occasionally, he’d make cryptic remarks about her choice of symbols or accessories, intrigued by the darker meaning behind her look.
He’d invite her on nighttime walks, where they could talk about life, pain, and purpose. Blade would share his own views on suffering and self-destruction, finding solace in knowing that someone understands the allure of darkness without flinching.
When she shares her own struggles, Blade would respond with empathy, quietly urging her to embrace her scars. He’d consider her as a kindred spirit, united by a mutual understanding of darkness, perhaps even guiding her towards finding strength in their pain.
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Kafka – Elegant or Victorian Goth
Kafka would be enchanted by an Elegant or Victorian Goth style, one that exudes mystery, timeless beauty, and a touch of refined danger. A style that combines old-world charm with darker, alluring elements would captivate her attention.
Kafka would treat her as her accomplice, matching her elegance with her own polished look. She’d appreciate her ability to blend dark, regal sophistication with subtle danger and would often compliment her in her composed, low-key way.
She would revel in their shared love for all things dark and alluring, occasionally teasing her with whispered secrets and mysterious invitations, making her feel like part of an exclusive, hidden world.
Whenever the reader/she reveals a darker or emotional side, Kafka would listen intently, then offer her hypnotic words of wisdom, nudging her towards a balanced yet sophisticated approach to their emotions. She’d subtly manipulate her into embracing her elegance as armor.
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Sunday – Dreamy or Romantic Goth
Sunday would be drawn to a goth style that embodies a sense of ethereal beauty and dreamy mystique, like a Romantic or Dreamy Goth. This aesthetic, filled with delicate lace, ethereal black layers, celestial accessories.
Sunday would admire her goth look as if she's an angel of the night, often complimenting the dark beauty she bring to his Sweetdream Paradise. With poetic and enigmatic language, he'd express how she reminds him of a serene vision, free from the pain of the waking world.
Behind closed doors, he’d reveal a gentler, protective side, seeing her as someone worth preserving in his dream-like world. He’d subtly ask her about her philosophy on life and pain, curious if she'd share his perspective on a reality without suffering.
Whenever she displays a darker or more melancholic side, Sunday would be there to “soothe” her spirit, gently guiding her towards his paradise—although this “soothing” might actually involve urging her to escape painful thoughts.
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Robin – Ethereal or Pastel Goth
Robin would admire an Ethereal or Pastel Goth style, with softer tones like lavender and violet combined with traditional goth elements. This blend of gentleness and depth aligns with her own music and tragic past, which holds an undercurrent of beauty amidst sorrow.
Robin would feel a comforting connection with the reader’s look, as it aligns with her own aesthetic of blending light and dark. She’d often give small, heartfelt compliments, noting how her style reminds her of a bittersweet melody.
She’d enjoy quiet moments with the reader, perhaps inviting her to her studio, where they’d share their thoughts on beauty, darkness, and the ways they each express their emotions. Robin might even dedicate a song to her, inspired by her unique blend of innocence and mystery.
When the reader is feeling down, Robin would offer soft-spoken support, listening patiently and reminding her of the beauty in every emotion, treating her struggles like notes in a beautiful song that deserve to be heard.
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Aventurine – Cyber or Industrial Goth
Aventurine would appreciate a goth style that leans into cyber or industrial aesthetics—think metal accessories, bold colors, and futuristic touches. This type of goth aligns with his strategic mind and love for taking calculated risks, mixing sophistication with an edge.
Aventurine would be fascinated by her bold look, often pulling her aside to compliment her style in a playful, flirtatious way. He’d likely buy her accessories, such as metallic chokers or bracelets, to enhance her look and treat her style as another high-stakes investment, always encouraging her to be bold.
With his knack for creating excitement, Aventurine would take her to the casinos or exclusive places where they could revel in the aesthetic together. He’d suggest that every encounter and style choice is part of a larger game, creating an atmosphere of thrill and risk, which he finds irresistible.
When the reader shares her darker feelings or thoughts, he’d humorously encourage her to “double down” on it, teaching her to gamble with her emotions, to transform them into something powerful and alluring.
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I hope you like it! I tried my best, and it was challenging to decide styles (and writing for a female reader as I'm used to writing for gender neutral) and all, so I really hope you enjoy it 🫶❤️‍🩹
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