#celestial couple

[thesorceresstemple]

[mienar]

from us it begins

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[notbecauseofvictories]

So I've been re-doing my coffee table, because the decoupage of tea-stained paperback pages was starting to show its age. I've been working on it for a while, and was committed not to showing anyone until I was finished. Still, with my mother coming over I had press pause, and...actually? it looks pretty good. Weird, because there's a pure white box in the middle of my apartment! But still...not bad.

...guess how I did the bas relief vines? HOT GLUE GUN, it took me two weeks.

[cuppajj]

baau purelily save me

[c0mbatchameleon]

Snippet / microfic / something idk

Aka where Regulus wakes up half drunk on the floor of his brother’s apartment and forgets that the spare bedroom is no longer a spare bedroom

The moonlight has carved out a hollowness into the room when Regulus opens his eyes. There’s music playing, still, for an audience of empty cups and a few toppled chairs and the snoring bodies of his friends on the couch.

Barty is splayed out over Evan, face buried into his neck like he doesn’t need air, but rather, he lives and breathes the boy beneath him. Evan’s hand has planted roots in his skull, twisted into matted hair. Flecks of glitter sprinkle every inch of the boys, a sparkle here and there in their hair, embedded in their skin, their eyelashes and parted lips. They’re a grimy sort of angelic in their blacked-out state, sleep blanketing them in an innocence you’d never find otherwise.

It’s not the first time he’s waken here, stiff back and sour taste in his mouth. He stumbles to the kitchen sink and sticks his head in, letting the water run rivers down his face and neck as he drinks it in gulps. It’s about a full minute of that, and then running his hands over his face for good measure, before he continues his trek to the bathroom, scouring the cabinet for mouthwash and taking a swig straight from the bottle and then swishing it and spitting into the sink, hands gripping the porcelain to hold up his own weight. It’s a wonder he’s been able to stand for this long with exhaustion dragging him down like an anchor tied to his limbs.

He trails behind himself into the hall and then his usual room, hands held out in front of him in the absence of sight. It takes a minute to find the bed. Once he does, he’s unceremoniously tugging back the covers and collapsing onto the mattress, sleep already overtaking him.

He sighs, half in relief and half in pain, pulling up the covers and-

“Well this is new.”

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.”

Regulus’s skull collides with the headboard before he can form a cohesive thought.

Sleep has made a hasty retreat, driven out by adrenaline and pure fear. The man in his bed—James, to be specific—instinctively shoots a hand out, clasping onto his arm.

“Shit, are you okay?”

“What the fuck are you doing here!?” Regulus whisper-yells, propped halfway up on his arm with the other hand clutching his head.

“What am I doing in my bed?”

Regulus blinks. Fuck. He forgot this bed actually belonged to someone. Not just someone. Of course, never just someone.

“I… forgot you lived here.”

His eyes have adjusted to the darkness, now. He watches James stare at him, dumbfounded, for a few beats. And then he bursts into a fit of laughter.

Of course the fucker is laughing. It blooms on his face like Spring itself; even here, dimly lit and squinting, it’s blinding. Rays of sunlight cutting through his teeth as he gasps for breath inbetween. Flower and leaf and fruit sprouting from his throat, and Regulus is just too tipsy to avoid the vines coiling around him, his arms and legs and chest, taking root in his own throat, planting seeds in his lungs.

He’s too tired to fight the branches stretching out like hands and pulling at the corners of his own lips, coercing a smaller laugh. He doesn’t even think it’s that funny, maybe James is just delirious. Maybe he’s still a little drunk, too.

“You forgot I lived here. In my room. In my apartment.” James relays, his hysterics reigned in to a splitting grin. Blinding, blinding, still blinding. He’s on his side, head resting in his hand—the other hand is still on Regulus, a light touch burning holes through his clothes, the skin on his shoulder, the muscle and bone marrow, planting more seeds, sprouting more life. He’s staring up at Regulus with sparkling eyes. Who gave him this much joy? Who gave him the idea to direct any of it his way?

Even here, in the middle of the night, waking him up just to shed glitter on his clean sheets and yell at him for existing in his own home.

Regulus doesn’t deserve it. But he can’t find it in himself to deny it right now.

“I may have, uh, passed out in here drunk a few times when you weren’t here last year.”

“A few times?” James asked, eyebrows raised, hand still there.

“Ok. Maybe a lot. Forgot it wasn’t actually mine,” Regulus admits, trying not to shortcircuit from the contact. Trying to relocate the mask of indifference he misplaced after the 3rd or 4th shot. He can just barely feel he’s still smiling, stupidly. He can’t find the right muscles to make it go away.

The analog clock on the dresser across the room reads 3:27 AM in a blue glow. Regulus knows the sensible thing to do now is get up, but the soft arms of sleep are extending from somewhere below, furling around his body and pulling down. The mattress, James’s mattress, might be the softest thing he’s ever laid rest on and it’s enveloping him like quicksand. He lets his head drop forward like dead weight as he musters the strength to move.

“Well don’t let me stop you, then,” James says, amusement and something strangely resembling adoration painted on his face. “I can sleep on the couch, if you want.”

It’s all way too casual for the absolutely absurd offer.

Regulus stares at him in disbelief. “You’re just gonna let me kick you out of your own bed.”

James shrugs, “You look comfy.”

There’s the distant hum of a car engine passing outside, an intermittent clicking sound from the run down heater in the room. The window shade is somewhat transparent, which defeats the whole fucking purpose of the thing, much to Regulus’s annoyance—he’s awoken, against his will to many a sunrise in this room—and a nearby streetlight gently pollutes the darkness, illuminating James from behind in a halo of muted yellow light.

“That’s fucking ridiculous,” Regulus replies, still not moving. James laughs softly. A few daisies sprout in the garden growing between them. “Barty and Evan are on the couch, anyway.”

“I’ll take the floor then.”

“You’re not sleeping on the fucking floor for me.”

“Well I’m more than happy to share, then.”

“You’re not- what?” His bemusement distracts him momentarily from the growing effort of keeping his eyes open. James squeezes his shoulder lightly, the bastard, drawing a small breath from him that he hopes to god goes unheard, before finally drawing back his hand.

“I sleep on the floor or we both sleep here. Your choice.”

“And if I sleep on the floor?”

“I’ll still sleep on the floor out of spite. I don’t think you could get up if you tried, right now, anyway.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Regulus groans. He fully collapses in defeat onto the pillow as he says it, which might take some of the edge out of the remark.

“I really don’t mind the floor, love. Good for the back and all. I’ve got tons of extra pillows and blankets, anyway,” James says, gesturing to the floor next to his bed.

“Just sleep in the god damn bed,” Regulus sighs. He shuffles so he’s on his back, one arm bent over his head rather dramatically, and closes his eyes. He’s fully relented in his battle with his own exhaustion now, and it’s closing in fast.

James doesn’t move for a moment. Regulus can feel his gaze like a beam of sunlight through a magnifying glass. He doesn’t need to open his eyes to smell his own clothes begin to smoke in the wake of it. “Are you sure?” he finally asks, playful tone receding. “I just- I should warn you I’m a bit of an.. active sleeper. And I know you don’t always like people touching you-“

“It’s alright when it’s you.”

It comes out nearly a whisper now as he sinks. He’ll blame it on alcohol or delirium, tomorrow, if he’s not outright denying having said it. He doesn’t actually know why he said it out loud. Regulus usually keeps the truth to himself, as a general rule.

The last thing he hears before falling asleep is James’s small intake of breath, followed by a faint “Oh. Yeah?” and then reality rescinds entirely.

[bekkathyst]

I forgot to post this but this was my Ominous Yule Witch look for Christmas this year

[piffany666]

Say it with me now!

EVIL. POWER. COUPLES!

Also congratulations again to scythe and kittenish!

Just gonna ramble real quick

Another thing I like about scythe's evil couple's is that they're business partners just as much as they are couples. Like valiki and dark rose are married (presumably) but it's also a business relationship the business being world domination and it's the same with alpha and livana.

Rot (the death celestial) and Dominic are more of a "worshipper" and "god" relationship but it's still a "let's work together to destroy the world" type relationship.

We don't have enough info on sylus and buttercup's relationship dynamic I do feel like it's gonna be a "let's destroy the world together" but less of a work relationship then that of dark rose and valiki or alpha and liv

[gruviaa]

[hotwaterandmilk]

Ayashi no Ceres — "~Gagyou 35 Shuunen Kinen~ Watase Yuu no Sekai Fushigi Yuugi Genga-ten" trading acrylic stand (08/2024)

[lavaflowe]

Wukong and Xiaotian in the Celestial Realm for their trial✨

I saw some people talking about Wukong getting in trouble for the shit that went down in season 3 and having to attend a trial with the Jade Emperor in season 4, which got me thinkin👁️👁️In the show, Wukong would ~technically~ be a Bodhisattva and would totally dress up to be petty and poor Xiaotian wouldn’t have anything fancy💀

Also Wukong coming to pick up MK covered in gold and MK’s there with his hand-me-down Hanfu he stole from Tang, now suddenly questioning every fashion choice he’s ever made

Design and Buddhism Notes below the cut:

(People who read my info dump: it’s all the same stuff just on top of sketches)

[notbecauseofvictories]

I won't make any grand, sweeping statements about it, but I do think taking public transit has and continues to make me a better person than I would be otherwise.

[weepingwitheredwillows]

A celestial seas prompt I did featuring Bruce, who belongs to my boyfriend @greeneeveesoup

[bonefall]

oo snowkit becomes snowcarve?

He does!

In StarClan, you can use the names and appearance that you could have had, if you died young. It's very rare that you get permakits or permapprentices. I lifted from the COTC story about Smallstar and his siblings.

(Though, in BB those kits actually survive and it's MAPLESHADE’S kits who lead to the law on protecting children, Darkstar's Commandment, the Queen’s Rights. Smallstar is the leader of WindClan and xey're super chill. Xey own a lovely shawl.)

So Snowkit chooses to appear as Snowcarve, an Honor Title he would have earned for the creation of a full written Clan cat language, expanded from the simple glyphs. I'm not sure if he's a popular patron, but I do know that Bramble and Tawny invoke him sometimes.

Unfortunately though he's more invoked for general guidance by the two of them, not for possibilities like I think he'd like. He watches over them though, like a guardian angel. A lot of cats secretly have those.

I'm not sure who he follows around more often though. I think he LIKES following Tawny more because she's a better listener to his omens. But he feels like Bramble NEEDS him more, y'know?

Also notably, Snowcarve was technically their uncle, but the relationship is best described as "1st cousin." Rabnir in Clanmew, a familial role about somewhat distant but parallel growth, seen also with Brightpaw and Swiftpaw.

[roryhastoomanyfandoms]

Usually live and let ship but breaking up mj and peter in spiderdad shipping is honestly top tier cowardice. You fools. You buffoons. There is literally no reason to do so. Mj? Down for poly. Petey brings home a hot dude who's good with the kid, she is NOT complaining. Peter? Down for poly. Bro has the big heart for it. Miguel? Sure he might not go for MJ but "hes married" is the excuse Miguel uses and it works for, like, a week, until Peter starts super casually and not-at-all-forcedly bringing up that he and MJ have an open relationship, and then catboy is hanging on by a thread of professionalism.

"But how could Peter and Miguel kiss if Peter is still with MJ?" UHHHH WITH MJ CHEERING AND HOOTING AND HOLLERING AND HIP HIP HOORAYING???

[notebookviolet]

Magic Moment

The Warrior and The Magician ~ An illustration of Gale and my Manea (My Tav) i loved that moment so much it was so sensual, romantic, magic that I had to do it ~ i did and other version on my Patreon :

[anxiescape]

This page has been, like, 90% done for months now. I just didn't feel like finishing the hair highlights. 😓

But it's done now!! Hooray!! (btw my shading technique has changed since the previous page, so that's why it looks so different now...)

I dunno if Iron Fan in the first panel is gonna cause anyone any issues, but I'll add a suggestive tag just in case. Lemme know if it should be tagged anything else plz!

Page 3/3 (dunno if there'll be a page 4... we'll see.)

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