#palette: amplified

[mccncasters]

Life and Death Infant Fullbody in Academia Palette

4 fits for ur infants (sorry that's all they made but look how cuuuuteeeee!!!!)

You will need Life and Death EP

palette by @academiapalettes

it's really hard to see but the DressBow has skulls on the pattern and im dead. DOWNLOAD [PATREON]

[zyafics]

GIRL UNDER THE MOONLIGHT | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Oneshot)

Pairing – Rafe x Mermaid!Female Reader

Summary — Rafe invites you out to the Druthers for a sunrise event with Sarah and his friends.

Word Count — 2.3K

Content — fluff, protective!Rafe, Sarah being a good sister (and considerate to you!), you being clingy and possessive of Rafe, and suggestive scenes. A continuum of this and this and this!

“She can’t be a mermaid,” Sarah announces unexpectedly.

Rafe stops what he’s doing to turn to his sister, “What?”

“I poured some water on her skin,” she diligently informs, leaning against the doorframe of his office, her arms crossed over her chest with this vindicated look. "Nothing happened. Therefore, she can’t be a mermaid.”

Rafe scoffs at Sarah’s hypothesis. “What did you do? Chuck it at her?”

“Who do you think I am?” She rolls her eyes. “I just dropped some water on her… accidentally. I even brought towels—just in case.”

“A scientist,” Rafe drawls sarcastically, returning to his work.

“Precisely.”

Rafe had nearly forgotten that little quirk about you. It’s been almost a month since your arrival, and while there have been some occasional odd moments, nothing has proved evident about your supposed mermaid abilities. Finally, Rafe tucked it in the back of his head as nothing more than a phrase—a figment of your imagination, your fantasy transcending into the natural world.

Nothing more.

“Why is this relevant?” Rafe asks stodgily, flipping through the account books of Cameron Development, his fingers trailing the edge of the sheets.

“Because now you can bring her to the sunrise trip,” Sarah declares.

It takes Rafe a second to remember what she’s referring to. A summertime tradition where Sarah and Rafe host their friends on the Druthers, taking it out to sea to stay a night and wake up before sunrise.

Sarah had tested whether you were truly a mermaid to make you a candidate for the journey.

Rafe scoffs, “So that’s what that little experiment is for,”

“I had to,” she smiles sweetly, “Didn’t want her to turn into a fish when we’re out at sea. It’ll ruin the fun.”

“My fun or yours?”

Sarah doesn’t answer, giving him a knowing wink, before departing from his office.

That night, Rafe asks you. He was getting ready for bed, turning off all the lights, before you patter your way into his doorway, shyly inviting yourself into his room. Rafe no longer is surprised by your arrival, and with a wave of a hand, he beckons you forward and you sink in his arms.

You’re always giddily, full of soul, and when Rafe has you in his arms, it amplifies. You detail him about your day—the time spent along the coastline of his estate, traveling barefoot along the empty roads, interacting with land critters. You’re always so fascinated by the mundane, the landscape and sights, but the way you go about it—it’s a soothing sound, full of bursting energy.

He can, and has, fallen asleep to it.

Knowing you’re in a good mood, Rafe decides to pop the question. He tells you about the trip, taking his yacht out, and watching the flaming palette of orange-blue light in the morning sky. He thinks you’ll enjoy it; after all, you’re a self-proclaimed mermaid with a fascination for all human derivatives.

But, for the first time, you say no.

“Why not?” Rafe asks as you lay on his chest, shaking your head at the invitation. Your nails are tracing the fabric of his shirt, drawing doodles in similar manners you would do at the bottom of the ocean floor.

“I don’t want to,” your voice is quiet and tiny as if you don’t like the idea of saying no to him.

“It’s just for one night,” Rafe assures. Perhaps you’ve gotten used to the stability of the Tannyhill estate.

You persist, declining the offer.

“It’ll be fun,” Rafe reasons, but there’s a bitterness in the way he’s pushing the topic. Truthfully, if you don’t attend, Rafe doesn’t have much incentive to join either. Yes, it’s been a long-standing tradition, but he wants to experience it with you. Ever since you entered into his life, he’s been feeling that way.

Yet, he knows he has to go. Sarah doesn’t know how to drive the Druthers, and she’s been looking forward to this all summer. Despite their bickering, he doesn’t want to let her down.

You shake your head quietly, slouching your shoulders inwards, making yourself small. It’s as if your body is physically recoiling at denying Rafe.

He doesn’t know what’s going on. You never do this. You’ve always been pliant, and obedient, agreeing to every little concoction he conspires. It’s one of the many things he adores about you; yet, for the first time, you’re being wayward.

“Are you afraid of the water?” Rafe asks gently, stroking the curve of your spine with his finger, in a way that makes you relax your muscles. He accidentally hooks it underneath the shirt—his shirt—drawing it up to expose your skin; soft, tender, and perfect.

Sarah had been right. Normally, you don’t like wearing clothes. Only when Rafe asks you to whenever you go out together, but preferably, you choose to remain as close to naked as possible. It’s too hot, you told him. You’ve gone years without clothes, and the actual barrier produces heat. The only exception, however, is if you get to wear his.

Again, you don’t answer. Your fingers coils around the loose fabric of his shirt, bundling it into a fist, as if you’re frightened by the suggestion. Rafe sees it—feels it—emulating from your body, and he stops for a second and relinquishes his touch.

“We’re just going to be on the boat. You don’t have to go into the water if you don’t want to,” Rafe reassures, hoping his words soothe something over you. He knows he’s been persistent, but he truly doesn’t want to leave you alone—not even for one night. “I’ll protect you.”

Normally, under that advisement, it would palliate all concerns; and would coaxe you into an affirmative yes. But you say nothing, and finally, with a tick of agitation pulsing through him, Rafe gently grabs your chin and lifts your tender gaze to his.

“Don’t you trust me?”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip; plumped, fresh, coasted with this perpetual wetness that makes Rafe burn with desire. And you nod your head, listening, but not actively responding.

His thumb traces your lower lip, pulling down the plumpness and forcing it to split apart. Your eyes meet Rafe with a tenderness, almost hunger, while your breathing slightly stills.

You still don’t answer him.

And this time, Rafe decides to let it go.

“If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.”

This should make you happy, for him to drop it, but the coated disappointment in his tone causes your stomach to twist. You don’t like upsetting him, don’t like the idea that you’re not meeting the standard and his needs.

“But you’ll still go?” You ask softly, gently, like an ocean breeze.

“I have to. Sarah doesn’t know how to drive,”

Your brows pinch, furrowing together. “Will there be other females there?”

“Yeah,” Rafe nods. “Some of Sarah’s girl friends.”

You purse your lips, eyes squinting. You don’t like that. You’re possessive about your mate. You understand Sarah’s his sister, and that company is natural, but with other women? Unrelated to him? It’s wrong.

You can’t stand it.

“Okay,” you murmur softly, conceding in a way that Rafe likes. “I’ll come.”

The next morning, everyone’s at the docks of the Tannyhill estate, loading onto the yacht. Sarah brought a variety of fruits and snacks, while Kelce and Topper helped her and her friends abroad. They climb up the slippery steps and enter into the cockpit, settling with their things.

You stay close to Rafe, timid among the new crowd.

Out at sea, everything is smooth sailing. Today’s a beautiful day, with steady waves, and it’s meant to last the entire week. Rafe parks the Druthers off the coast, where you can’t see Kildare anymore, save for a small coastal cove that’s within view. The boat gently bobs against the rolling tides, and the sounds of Sarah and her friends are screeching with enthusiasm as they take a swim around the yacht.

You watch from above the deck, your focus on the distance, staring at the island cove.

When Rafe slips out of the cockpit, his hand slides over your waist, snapping you out of your concentration. You lift your gaze to meet his, and the furrowed crease between your brows disappears, shoulders relaxing upon his touch.

Rafe offers you a rare, gentle smile. “You wanna swim?”

You shake your head, “Not with them.”

He likes the fact that you don’t entertain his friends, that you want him and only him. “You were waiting for me?”

You nod, leaning your head against his shoulders. “You looked busy,”

“You could’ve told me,” Rafe declares, “Better yet, you could’ve joined me.”

You huff softly, amused, as Rafe pulls you closer to his side. Again, he smells the scent of the sea—but it’s fragrance, exuding from you. His eyes drift to the direction you were looking at, “What's that?”

“Nothing,” you hum, but there’s a pang of longing. You tip your chin skyward to find his gaze once more. “Can we go inside now?”

A couple of hours later, Sarah’s right. Again. The whole crew is having dinner on the main deck, and someone accidentally spills a cup of water on your arm, but nothing happened. Rafe was ready to see something—a twinkle, a glow, or a glimmer—but it was absolute zilch. One of her friends who did it apologizes, and you chuckle softly, wiping it away with a towel, not a care in the world.

He truly doesn’t understand this mermaid business. He really doesn’t.

Maybe you’re someone who loves the sea so much, you claim it as part of your identity. You want to be closer to the ocean, to the marines, to the corals and the sea creatures that the title is merely an expression of self, rather than a true folktale.

You can’t be a mermaid, Rafe reasons, you don’t even have a tail.

Later, everyone shuffles off to their individual cabins. Rafe claimed the biggest one—because of course he did. When you step out of the small bathroom, in nothing but a large shirt of his, Rafe swallows thickly. Because most times, when you come into his room, it’s night, punctured with darkness saved for a glow of moonlight through his curtains.

Now, the cabin lights remain perpetually on, at low brightness, and it allows Rafe to see everything. He’s reminded of the tidbit from Sarah—how you hate panties—and his eyes drop to your thighs, where the shirt casually brushes mid-level, almost revealing more. His heart beats heavily, and you slowly climb onto the bed, wrapping yourself around him.

You fall asleep on his chest, as you normally do, and the weight is like a natural blanket to him. Something he knows, expects, and remembers. It tames all the raging emotions inside of him, silences all the busy thoughts, and hones in completely and only you.

During the duration of the night, while the yacht slowly rocks against the stronger currents, his hand falls on your back protectively.

Until it doesn’t.

Something doesn’t feel right; missing. His eyes slowly blink awake, drowsiness coating his features, while his eyes adjust to the low cabin lights. His hands weaved through thin air.

You’re gone.

With the door of the cabin wide open.

Consciousness strikes Rafe, and he jumps out of bed, rushing out of the cabin, and following the hallway lights to the deck. Slowly, with the rocking of the tides, Rafe climbs up the stairs, to the main deck, and finds you in the stark darkness.

Standing on the ledge.

You’re at the gap where the railing ends, allowing an opening to jump to the swim platform. You’re standing dangerously close to it, his shirt flapping against the wind, a loose hand wrapped on the safety handle.

Rafe calls your name, but you don’t turn around. He suspects you’re sleepwalking, entranced in a dream, that led you up here. Ocean calling you home, it’s evidence for his theory.

But you’re not a mermaid and you can’t survive that leap.

Cautiously, Rafe approaches you, slowly, tenderly, calling your name. He’s afraid of waking you, afraid of startling you from your dream and causing you to release and fall. With each step closer, he hears the thumping of his own heartbeat and the prize within reachable fingertips.

He’s almost there.

He’s so close.

Until you jump.

Rafe screams as he reaches the ledge, his eyes adjusting to the dark currents of the sea. Nothing is visible, not a stream of light underneath, except for the glowing reflection of the full moon bathing the dark waters.

He’s calling your name, again and again, trying to see if you’ll surface to the sound of his voice.

But nothing happens.

Rafe’s already taking off his shoes, taking off his shirt. He’s gearing up to jump in after, especially if you don’t surface within the next minute.

He’s praying. A godless man as himself, who doesn’t believe in a higher power, is begging for you to come up unscathed.

But he still sees nothing.

Until something cuts the waves, a sharp prodding sculpture that slices through the harsh currents.

A tail?

He isn’t sure if his eyes are deceiving him, especially with the drowsiness of his sleep, but he sees another cut in the ocean, this time paired with an iridescent color of a fin, scaly and glimmering.

He calls out your name once more, a little timid, a little frightened.

And you raise to the surface.

Attached to a long, kaleidoscopic tail, with skin full of scales, climbing up your shoulders and throat, you��re flipping through the water; your smile bright, eager, and real.

Rafe breathes out a sigh of disbelief.

“Holy shit,”

IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications! however, if you want to be added to this specific taglist, let me know (but to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts).

TAGLIST FOR MERMAID!READER: @nemesyaaa / @promiscuousg1rl / @fullofsunshineandloneliness / @erwinsvow / @perfectprettypisces / @immalosersblog / @carolinevoight / @drewswife / @skye-44 / @ggraycelynn / @tinythebunni / @rain-likes-purple / @drewstarkeyspecs / @lolasangelz / @chalahyung01 / @waywardalpacaoctopus / @jjasmiineee / @chelzaa / @tinythebunni / @rain-likes-purple / @walkingwithoutreason / @mega-kittyglitter-1 / @m1-na / @mattyskies / @thatawkwardlittlefangirl

[pmamtraveller]

GABRIEL DE COOL - THE MUSE, 1895

The artwork typically symbolizes the classic representation of a muse, the source of inspiration and creativity, commonly portrayed as a perfect female form. This is consistent with the wider artistic tradition in which muses represent artistic inspiration in general rather than a particular person.

The soft pastel colours in the palette give off a dream-like ambience. The backdrop has muted colours that amplify the subjects without diverting attention. The utilization of light and shadow emphasizes the outline of the figures and adds a tranquil feeling. In general, the painting represents an idealized view of femininity, capturing the essence of inspiration and artistic muse through its harmonious composition and delicate rendering.

In contrast to Cool's contemporaries like Gustave Courbet, who emphasized realism in their depictions of social issues without any embellishments, de Cool's art tends to lean towards the ethereal. On the other hand, artists like Eugène Delacroix favoured emotional expression and dramatic themes, but de Cool preferred a tranquil and classical elegant depiction, reflecting the ideals of beauty of the Royal Academy in the late 19th century.

Even though Cool was a well-known artist in the late 1800s, there is limited biographical information available about him, causing speculation about his influences and personal life. The absence of documentation creates a mysterious atmosphere around his identity, making it challenging to entirely grasp his artistic motivations and the environment in which he operated.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Pastel Colors

Pastel Colors - pale variations of primary colors and exhibit lightness and low saturation.

To create a pastel shade, blend white into the original color, mixing the pigments until they fully combine.

The more white you add to the original color, the lighter the pastel shade becomes. 

Examples of Pastel Colors

As tints of primary colors, pastel hues are not on a traditional color wheel. Their limited saturation and pale shades create a soothing and romantic atmosphere. Common shades of pastel colors include:

Baby blue: Similar to sky blue, baby blue is a light shade of azure that pairs well with pastel yellow and pink. Baby blue is also a signature color scheme for nurseries and children’s rooms.

Lilac: As a mix between mauve and light blue, lilac is a pale shade of violet that resembles the lilac flower. This pastel color creates a bright contrast alongside shades of olive green and gray.

Mauve: Like lilac, mauve is also a pastel variety of the color purple. There are different shades of mauve, with some tints containing pale pink hues and others containing light gray shades.

Mint green: A blend of blue, green, and white, mint green is often a staple shade on a pastel color palette. Different tints of mint green vary according to the proportions of white, blue, and green.

Peach: A bright summery tone, peach is a pastel color in the orange family. Its warm hues resemble a bright cream, making it an ideal color base upon which to build.

How to Use Pastel Colors

By matching the right colors, you can effectively incorporate pale tones into different design trends. Try these steps for working with pastel colors:

Create a pastel color scheme. As an arrangement of complementary color combinations, a color scheme is a foundation that balances bright and dark shades. Start by choosing a pastel color as your base. Select complementary colors by pairing this main color with tints on opposite ends on the color wheel. If your color wheel does not include pastel colors, find the primary color closest to your pastel and then note which color is across from it. The pastel version of this second primary color is your complementary color. For example, if pastel blue is your main color, use pastel oranges as your complementary colors in your color scheme.

Test your shades. Before applying any color to a new space or template, test your color scheme. Pastel colors appear differently depending on how the light hits them. Consider doing a small patch test to ensure you like how the color looks after you apply it.

Incorporate contrast. Contrasting colors enhance different aspects of your design. Pastel on pastel can result in a faded look the eye has trouble viewing. Instead, layer your pastel background with color contrast. For instance, in a pale yellow web design, consider using a saturated hue for the lettering so the text is eye-catching. Darker tones that pair with pale colors include magenta, eggplant, navy blue, and dark green.

Add an accent. For a more dramatic look, you can incorporate accent colors in your template. Soft pastels amplify the appearance of bright colors. To make a statement in your design, consider incorporating a primary color shade into your palette. For home décor, use primary color throw pillows as an accent to a pastel-colored couch.

Tips for Using Pastel Colors

Consider these styling tips for using pastel colors in graphic design or interior design:

Add intrigue with metallic shades. Since pastel colors have less saturation, shimmery colors, such as gold and silver, are attention-grabbing against pastel backgrounds. Experiment with different metallic shades to add texture to your pastel look.

Play with patterns and shapes. Pastel backgrounds are an opportunity to incorporate bold shapes and interesting textures. Consider adding a geometric pattern to a wall with a pastel color scheme. The soft gradient of the pale colors allows the unique shapes to stand out.

Use neutrals for balance. Adding a pale hue to a neutral color palette creates a fresh, eye-catching look. Neutral colors, such as white, gray, and beige, ground pastel shades and prevent an overwhelming blend of color. This technique works well for business cards and logo designs.

Graphic designers, interior decorators, and artists incorporate pastel colors into their work to blend color palettes, build texture, and balance bold patterns.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[kirbyofthestars]

a fairly detailed kirby oc ask meme

🪐 (Saturn) - What planet are they from? Is it in Gamble Galaxy, Another Dimension, the Mirror World, the New World, or somewhere else? Where do they live now?

🧃 (Juicebox) - What species are they? What’s their biology and physiology like? Do they differ in any way from a ‘typical’ member of their species?

⚔️ (Crossed Swords) - What weapon(s) do they wield or specialize in, if any in particular? Any special properties? Do their weapons have names or epithets? [e.g. MK’s Galaxia, Morpho’s Doomblade]

🪄 (Magic Wand) - Are they capable of wielding magic? Is it a learned skill, or is it innate? What sorts of spells can they cast? Do they possess any magical items or artifacts? [e.g. the Dimensional Mantle]

💫 (Shooting Star) - If they were to wish on a clockwork star, like Galactic Nova or Star Dream, what would they wish for?

🪽 (Wing) - Can they fly, hover, or levitate? Is it through natural means or artificial means? If they have wings, what do they look and feel like?

🥘 (Stew) - Do they have any favourite foods or comfort foods? What are their eating habits like? If absorbed by the Cook ability, what healing item would they summon?

🧋 (Boba Tea) - Come up with a Kirby Café item themed around your OC! It can be a savoury dish, a drink, a dessert, or something else entirely.

☀️ (Sun) - What’s their morning routine like? Do they take a lot of time getting ready in the morning? How do they groom themselves? What are they having for breakfast?

🌙 (Moon) - Is your OC a particularly light or heavy sleeper? Somewhere in-between? Do they take naps?

🍅 (Tomato) - If Kirby absorbed them or their attacks, what Copy Ability [or Abilities] would he get? Alternatively, if they themselves are capable of using the Copy Ability, do they have a favourite?

⚡️ (Lightning Bolt) - Which Power Effects [Blizzard, Bluster, Sizzle, Splash, Zap] would their attacks grant? Do they have any particular weaknesses or resistances, elemental or otherwise?

🎶 (Music Notes) - Do they play any instruments? What kind of leitmotif and/or battle theme would they have? Are there any songs you associate with them?

💌 (Love Letter) - How easy are they to befriend? Are they more of a social butterfly or a lone wolf?

💥 (Collision) - What’s your OC’s combat style like? Do they adhere to any particular code of honour or ethics in a fight, or are they totally unfettered by that sort of thing?

⚙️ (Gear) - Do they have any knowledge of, or connections to, the Ancients? What do they think of them?

⚖️ (Scales) - On the subject of a certain someone’s lengthy rant; is your OC moreso on the side of magic or science? Somewhere in-between? Do they incorporate the two together in some way?

🍨 (Ice Cream) - The Invader Armour undergoes a drastic transformation depending on its pilot. If they were to wield it, what appearance would their mech take on? What abilities would it have?

🪞 (Mirror) - What would their Mirror World counterpart be like? If they are a Mirror World counterpart, what traits of theirs are reflected? Do the two of them get along?

🐛 (Caterpillar) - What are your OC’s greatest fears, and why? How do they act or react when they’re afraid?

💼 (Bag) - Inventory check! What items does your OC typically carry around with them? What do they carry them in?

🔮 (Crystal Ball) - Out of all the treasures in the Great Cave Offensive, Kirby is letting your OC pick one from his stash to keep! Which one do they pick, and why?

♟️ (Pawn) - Does your OC get possessed easily, or do they have the willpower to fight back against any possible attempts? Have they been possessed before?

🕸️ (Spiderweb) - Create a bouquet inspired by your OC! It can be based on their colour palette, flower language and symbolism, whatever they like best, or any combination of the three.

💜 (Purple Heart) - If they were corrupted by the Jamba Heart, which negative traits of theirs would be amplified?

🩷 (Pink Heart) - If they were a Dream Friend, what would their moveset be like? How much HP do they have? Would they be a strong attacker, or would they take on more of a support role?

🦁 (Lion) - If they were an animal — that is, of the Earth / Shiver Star / New World variety — which animal would they be? If they already are an animal, what real-life species or subspecies are they most similar to?

🕰️ (Clock) - What would a Dreamy Gear version of them look like? What sort of accessories would they have? What kind of role do they play?

🛡️ (Shield) - Which Clash role would your OC pick - Sword Hero, Hammer Lord, Beam Mage, or Doctor Healmore?

🦋 (Butterfly) - Does your OC ‘fear the reaper’, so to speak? If they fused with Morpho Knight, what sort of form would they take on?

🍒 (Cherry) - Out of all of the Dream Friends [Kirby included], which ones would they get along with the most? The least?

🥀 (Wilted Rose) - Do they have a Soul form? What would it look and act like? How much control over themselves do they have? Is it still possible to save them, or are they too far gone?

[milkbobatyun]

love countdown!

pairing: geto x reader

genre: angstober, events

summary: it was the night before he left for okinawa, little did you know how much everything would change.

word count: 1k

a/n: day 2 of angstober !! fun fact: i wrote this at like 12am when i was holidaying in another country a few months ago, so i dont even know what i was thinking, but enjoy. ngl, i would say that this is more pure word vomit that actual content, either way, hope this is ok (;‘• - •`; )for my manga readers, how do we feel about the ending of jjk?

the afternoon before his departure to okinawa, geto had texted you a message.

‘i’m coming to pick you up, we’re going to the beach to watch the sunset.’

you complied, wearing a cure outfit that you deemed was good enough for the weather outside. oh how wrong you were.

when you arrived at the beach, geto brought out a rug for you to sit on together on the sand. you talked about nothing and everything for hours, with you admiring the sun’s brilliant reds and oranges, that reflected on the sea, watching the baby blue tones shift to darker, cooler shades of violet and blue. he watched you, admiring how beautiful you were, wanting to savour every moment with you. after all, they were both jujutsu sorcerers, who knew which moment might be their last?

the sky slowly darkened, pricks of light brightening the dark backdrop of navy in an attempt to light up the sky. the shy moon showed its face to the now sleeping city.

along with the sky’s palette change, the temperature changed too. what once was warmth was now replaced by cold, amplified by the bellowing sea air.

geto noticed your slightly shivering form, deciding to throw off his sweater and engulfing you in it without hesitation.

it brought warmth and comfort to you, along with his familiar scent of sandalwood. you looked so funny in the huge sweater, almost like a toddler wearing their parent’s clothing, geto couldn’t help but laugh. 

‘aren’t you cold though?’ you enquire.

‘no, because your presence, light and smile brings my world warmth. without you, i would merely be a broken man. you make me whole.’

you were both used to saying sappy things, but this unexpected proclamation of love stole your breath away, leaving you with no way to respond.

cupping his cold cheeks in your hands, you reply to his confession in the best way you thought of, a kiss of pure love and adoration.

geto laughed, oh how sweet his laugh was. it was like the chime of bells in the country air, a sound you wanted to embed into a stereo, so you could replay it every moment of the day. it was a sound that brought your heart the purest joy, one that wanted to make you stand at the highest point of the world and proclaim your love for the beautiful, dark haired man called suguru geto.

lapsing in the romantic air, geto grabbed your hands, twirling you around in circles on the sand, dancing together under the watchful gaze of the moon, who admired this pure and beautiful love. it was jealous of the way these two beautiful people moved in sync under its starlight, how they could dance together to a silent melody, only heard by two souls that were soulmates. 

the moon and stars watched over the two lovers as they danced, on and on, until they fell onto the sand in joyous exhaustion, laughing together, their joyful laughs creating a melody only made by two souls in love.

feeling cheeky, geto reached his cold hands into the sleeves of the sweater he claimed he lent you, but the moon, watching from above, knew that it would go to your collection of clothing stolen from your boyfriend.

the moment his freezing hands latched onto your wrist, you were fighting hard to get them off, but you were halfhearted in your attempts, and you knew it was futile.

looking at geto’s grin, he knew he won, so he kept his hands in the warmth of the sweater, leaning his head on your shoulder and gazed at the moon.

"when you miss me, look up at the stars and moon, for they shine for you, my love. look up, and you’ll think of me, for i will be looking at the same moon and stars as you are." he whispered in your ear.

you nodded, and whispered something in his ear.

“when you have something to tell me, but you’re too far away to tell me or message me, tell it to the moon and stars, they will pass on your message to me.”

geto nodded, before pressing a kiss to your head.

the comfortable silence was interrupted by the click and bright flash of a camera.

turning around, the two of you spotted a familiar head of white hair.

“GOJO SATORU!” the two of you yelled in annoyance.

oh. oh shit. time to run.

you sat by the beach, watching the waves lap at the sand. you were bundled in his old sweater, the one he gave you before he left for okinawa.

in your hands, you held the polaroid images that were taken sneakily by gojo. though during the night, when the light was dim, the flash had gone off, alerting the two to their chaotic friend’s presence.

although you had chased him far down the neighbourhood when you discovered him, and yelling at him, you were grateful, grateful that you had these physical memories to remind you of the days in which you were swathed in the comfort of young love.

you stared at the images, the cracks in your heart healing slowly. after all, it takes time to piece yourself together after the sudden loss and disappearance of your other half, the missing piece of your heart. without him, you knew, that you would never be complete again.

sighing, you tore your gaze away from the cherished photos in your hands, staring up at the sky longingly, hoping he knew, wherever he was, that you were keeping your promise, looking at the night sky when you missed him.

little do you know, he was looking up at the stars and moon too, thinking about the one who kept him whole. but now, he was too broken and evil, he thought, too evil for someone as pure as you.

miles apart, yet looking at the same stars and moon, the two halves whispered the words they wished they could tell the other. they whispered it to the moon, praying fervently the moon could pass on their message.

‘i’m sorry, i love you.’

‘i love you, please come back.’

taglist (open): @yeonjunsfox

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2024 / づ ♡

[notiddygothgf]

prologue

★ pairings: choso x f!reader

★ synopsis: World famous rock star Choso Kamo’s new live-in assistant is convinced that she can fix him – substance abuse issues and all. Tensions ensue, and as new feelings rise to the surface, the two find it difficult to maintain an appropriate workplace relationship (or; the one where an unstable musician struggles to keep it friendly with his assistant).

★ c.w.: none (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: don't be a stranger! leave some comments for me to read teehee

★ w.c.; 2.8k

smoke and mirrors; chapter index

THE MUSIC INDUSTRY BLEEDS YOU DRY. That’s just the truth. It takes every ounce of your creative passion and tramples on it. It takes everything from you, and then it takes more. I find myself reconsidering my career path on a daily basis. There’s only one thing, in fact, that keeps me grounded.

“Choso! Choso! Choso! Choso!” 

That. The chant of the crowd. The endless bodies waving their hands over the venue, reaching for me, singing for me.

I leaned my head back, feeling the cool breeze of the backstage air against my neck, against my trembling skin. Crewmembers swarmed around me like gnats, tweaking little details of my outfit – one had a black eyeshadow palette up to my eyelid and another was messing with my hair. She had said something about needing to look intentionally messy.

The low hum of their conversation was only background noise to me. I blew a bubble with the wad of gum in my mouth – a nervous tic that clearly betrayed the calm exterior I was trying so hard to maintain.

The girl who was touching my eyeliner up snapped the palette shut. My mind was elsewhere – it was out there. 

“Choso! Choso! Choso!”

I took a deep breath to steady my racing heart. The chant of my name reverberated through the walls, a frightening reminder of what lay just beyond the curtain. 

People. Thousands of them.

“Choso! Choso! Choso!” The chorus of voices seemed to grow louder. I shut my eyes, visualizing the sea of faces, the outstretched hands, the passion in their voices. The crowd– my fans; they were my lifeline. 

Another crew member informed me, “You’re on.”

I nodded solemnly, feeling that strange pit in my stomach. It was terrifying, it was familiar, it was… exciting. 

I took another breath, then I stepped forward. With each step towards the stage, the chanting intensified. The noise was like this strange, palpable force, urging me onward. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins the moment I reached the edge of the stage. The anticipation was almost… suffocating.

I stepped out. Then, for a blissful moment, it all seemed to go quiet.

I took a moment to look at them, really look at them. All of them. The mass of humanity blurred into one collective wave of joy. From here, I couldn’t even make out faces. Only smiles, flashing lights, and limbs flailing. Signs with my name on it. People with love in their hearts. 

Nothing but them and me, hearts beating in tandem. I wondered how nervous they felt – if they knew how nervous I felt standing here before them. If they knew I had been nervously chewing on a piece of gum only moments prior.

Thousands of people who all came together for one purpose – to see me. A mosaic of adoration. 

I glanced down at my trembling hands, fingers clutching the edge of my guitar. The weight of the crowd’s expectations pressed down on me. The realization hit me a second time – they were all here for me. That both terrified and humbled me.

I licked my lips, gave my old guitar a strum, feeling those familiar vibrations amplified a hundred fold. It was loud, so loud that I could still hear it reverberating throughout the venue when I reached for the microphone.

I stole another glance at the crowd as a smile broke across my face. 

Deep breaths.

I shouted, “What the fuck is up, Paris?”

The response was deafening. The crowd erupted in cheers. I could feel their energy merging with mine – the lights, the love, the screams. In that moment, I remembered why I endured the trials of my industry. I remembered why I was still living – what I was fighting for. It was all for them, the countless faces who found solace and inspiration in my music. 

And with that realization, I felt my heart begin to race.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” I asked.

They screamed back at me in response. I grinned.

“God, I love you guys,” I laughed. Strummed my guitar a second time. Looked at them. “I got a special show for you tonight!”

It was all for them. I do it all for them.

Life on the road was pretty crazy. I wish I could say that I had family to miss back home, but that wasn’t the case. I had been in and out of foster care for most of my life; had to grow up pretty fast so my brothers and I could stay off the streets. Other than the three of them, I never really had a family.

I turned to music as a crutch. I bought my first guitar with the first paycheck I earned – I was 16. I bandhopped for a while, alternating between the roles of lead singer, bassist, and rhythm guitarist. I found a passion for writing lyrics somewhere along the way. It felt nice, being able to put pen to paper and make my fucked up life sound appealing.

It was great.

I did basement shows right up until I turned 21. I would have been more than happy to keep on doing them – hell, sometimes I found myself wishing I could still fit those small, shitty little venues – but some big, music industry talent hotshot came and found me at one of my shows. He handed me a card. Told me he liked my sound, that I could be famous.

Who could have refused?

I never anticipated hitting it this big. Not that I’m complaining. It keeps a roof over me and my brother’s head – to say the least. I have more than enough money to live lavishly for the rest of my days.  I found my new family in my music team: my manager, my coordinators, my publicist. All of them. 

The music industry is notoriously blood-sucking. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows. I realized that rather quickly, though by the time I was hot enough to hire a whole team, I was in too deep. It all seemed so… superficial.

I grew to hate it.

My hatred only grew when I lost two of my beloved brothers – Eso and Kechizu. There was a shootout at the mall. They found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. I remember rushing to the hospital as soon as I heard the news. 

It was too late by that point, though. They had bled out long before I was able to see them.

I didn’t sleep for a week after that – I developed insomnia that would last for years to come. I spent my evenings curled up on my shower floor, sobbing into my own arms. It was the same after that, and then the day after that. I found myself spending all of my time replaying the memories in my head, thinking about where I went wrong.

It didn’t take long for me to find comfort in the lifestyle of the rich and famous – the drinking, the partying, the drugs. I would go on week-long benders, drinking myself into a sickened stupor, rolling up two joints a day, popping pills I didn’t know how to pronounce. Doping myself up so I couldn’t think about it.

Ecstasy, Molly, Coke, LSD, Acid – I’ve taken them all. Shit, you could probably find trace amounts of them in my blood at any given point in time.

Or… however the hell that shit works.

I took Adderall every day to keep me grounded. That’s what I told myself, at least. No doctor in his right mind would ever prescribe someone like me 80 milligrams on a daily basis. Good thing I paid mine enough to forget his hippocratic oath.

I wasn’t completely lost, though. I didn’t feel good about it. Yuuji, my only living brother, told me multiple times that I needed to cut down on my consumption. He wanted me to go to rehab. Shit, over my dead body.

He stopped bringing it up, but I could see it in his eyes – I was breaking his heart. I had to remind myself that he had lost his brothers, too, that day. Probably felt like he was losing the only one he had left.

I try not to dwell too hard on it, though. Got better shit to do.

Fucking hate the music industry most days. Everyone expects you to be all put-together, even though you wake up feeling like you dragged your feet through a field of broken glass shards. Even though you wake up every goddamn morning feeling you’re reliving the same day over and over again.

It’s like a painful reminder that the only people I have in my life are paid employees. I have no one – other than Yuuji – who I could confidently say would be there for me if I no longer had the funds to compensate them.

It fucking blows. I drink to forget about it. Drink and… well, everything else I put in my body.

Never put a needle in there, though… at least not for drugs. I’ve got more tattoos and piercings than I can count.

Enough about my unhealthy coping mechanisms, though.

My “family” never let me put out music I like making. They stripped my creativity from me. I lost all enjoyment in songwriting along the way. They turned me into a husk – a shell of the man I used to be.

I couldn’t recall the last time I felt real happiness. You know, the kind you got from taking a walk in nature and not from snorting and ingesting copious amounts of illicit substances. You would think that someone would see me greened out on the couch and know I was crying for help.

Nah. No one ever listens.

They never noticed. The only reason they cared about whether I was dead or alive was because I kept them well-fed and their pockets full.

That’s the fuckin’ music industry, baby. Nothing but a bunch of soulless, drugged-up puppets pumping out music they hate making. Begging for help.

But no one ever listens.

My head hung low as I snorted a line of powder off the tray my housemaid – or some other woman I didn’t know – had brought me. As quickly as she had appeared, she vanished. In her absence, I relished in the rush that hit me all too fast. 

I sniffed and coughed, shaking my head with remnants of the powder clinging to my nose. I blinked slowly, trying to make sense of my surroundings. 

The studio’s walls were adorned with gold, platinum and silver records, a shark contrast to the disheveled state of the room. Empty liquor bottles littered the floor. The air hummed with companionable conversation and the distant echoes of a repetitive beat.

As I raised my head, the scene unfolded before me. Half-naked women, draped in a hazy glow from neon lights, raised their glasses in a toast. The shots went down smoothly, accompanied by the thumping bass of my latest creation, reverberating through the studio's speakers.

The instrumental was infectious, quick and catchy, resonating with a bass that seemed to throb in sync with the erratic pulse of the room. My eyes fell to the scattered papers on the coffee table in front of me – lyrics scribbled in messy script on lined paper that had been torn straight out of my composition notebook.

Cigarette smoke, a whiskey glass,

Fading memories, like shattered glass,

Every sunrise feels like the last,

Trapped in the echos of the past.

Stuck in the rhythm of a broken clock,

Every tick’s an echo, every tock’s a shock.

A carouse of monotony,

Lost in a loop, just try’na break free.

Guitar wails like a distant scream,

Reality blurs, just like a dream.

Drift through the hours, like a ghost,

In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost.

Pouting, I wiped my nose, feeling the dull burn of the coke as it tingled in the back of my throat. I was congested as all hell. Still, I tried to sing the bridge beneath my breath. 

“Drift through the hours, like a ghost. In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost…” I hummed, pouting again when I realized I still didn’t like it. 

The women in the back of the room continued their celebration, completely oblivious to my internal struggle. They were too busy shooting the shit with my friends.

More glasses were poured, and one was handed over to me. I took a sip without looking – because it honestly didn’t matter what was in the cup, could’ve been piss for all I knew. The familiar burn of bourbon warmed me momentarily. Humming in recognition, I traced my finger over the rim of the glass, lost momentarily in the verbiage of my own creation. 

Something felt off.

Furrowing my brows, I stared down at the words on the page. I sniffled again. Then I downed about half of my glass of bourbon, standing up on unsteady feet. The room swayed slightly, especially when I walked over to the corner where the producer was set up – a lone figure surrounded by the chaos.

I nodded at him, muttering, “Play it again from the chorus. I’m try’na see somethin’.”

The producer – Chris, or some shit like that – nodded back. He pressed a button, and the beat started over. The room’s ambiance, fueled by laughter and friendly chatter, didn’t quiet down. 

I tried my best to immerse myself in the rhythm, but the distractions were just… it was just too much.

‘Guitar wails like a distant scream,

Reality blurs, just like a dream.

Drift through the hours, like a ghost,

In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost.’

I hadn’t realized I had forgotten to actually sing the words until my producer looked over at me expectantly. I shook my head, huffing out an exasperated sigh.

“Shit, sorry, take it from… take it from the chorus again, please?” My voice cut through the noise – or tried to, at least. 

The beat started over again, a few measures behind where I needed to be.

“Guitar wails like a distant scream…” I attempted once more. “Drift through the hours, like a lost– fuck, I fucked it up.”

The collective revelry around me was a wall – it fucked me up. I could feel a headache coming on.

“Can we pipe down a bit?” I groaned, massaging my temples. My ears began to ring a bit, growing louder with every passing second that the chatter continued. “Guys, shut the hell up.”

My pleas fell on deaf ears. The ringing persisted, drowning out everything else in the room. 

“Yuki,” I directed at her, a little louder now. She seemed to have been leading the conversation. “Yuki, please.”

No one ever listens.

And they didn’t. They weren’t fucking listening. I tried to make eye contact with her, but I couldn’t seem to make out her face from the rest. The room was blurry, moving side to side, hazy around the edges. I held my forehead, groaning quietly.

They were so fucking loud.

No one ever listens.

Downing the rest of my bourbon in one go, I – in a fit of frustration – hurled the glass against the wall above the couch where my friends were comfortably seated. It shattered, sending shockwaves through the room as stunned silence replaced the previous chaos.

“Yuki,” I mumbled, swaying slightly on my feet. “Shut the fuck up. I’m trying to.. Try’na fuckin’...”

“Choso,” She began quietly, her mouth slightly agape. Had she always had a twin sister, or was I dreaming? “Your… your nose– are you okay?”

I put a hand up to my nose, feeling around for anything out of the ordinary. My fingers were red when I brought them back, painted with a viscous crimson fluid. Another fell from my nostril onto the pale skin of my wrist. 

My nose is bleeding.

I wiped my nose, waving them off. “I’m fine,” I slurred – I wasn’t, least I don’t think I was, but the show must go on, or some shit like that. “Can we just… keep going, please?”

A thick, heavy silence enveloped the studio. With all of them finally keeping their mouths shut, I could hear myself think again. The ringing in my ears began to subside, and I, looking over my shoulder at Chuck– Chris, whatever the fuck– demanded, “Play that shit again.”

He swallowed nervously, clearly caught off guard by my outburst. Still, he pressed a button or two, and the song started all over again.

Drift through the hours like a ghost,

In this eternal purgatory, I’m lost.

a/n: hiiii! I hate the way this was written, but I always hate my first chaps hehe. NEXT ONE WILL BE SM BETTER I SWEAR!! this is gonna be a long, slow burn, smutty ass fanfic (loosely [very loosely] based on the show 'the idol'). and by based on ofc I mean I watched an ep and I was like damn I could make this better. Enter our beloved emo boy choso kamo. anyway!! comment your thoughts/wishes/etc!! I love an interactive community of loyal commenters and I loveee reading all of ur thoughts and lovely remarks!! keep them coming, and ill keep the chapters coming in retribution! love you bunches!

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

credits: @/2OARIN on twitter (cover art). If you know the other artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work! I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @missphanosaur18 , @bontensbabygirl, @megumissunshine, @chocoyanchan, @littlelovebug98, @lucisimpongod, @xochyw, @jaegerstan222 , @electro-supremacy, @mellytheteddy, @clover0310 , @soraya-daydreams, @priussy, @insanehumantinker, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nonksity, @hinata7346, @chososwhoresblog, @ynjimenez , @soraya-daydreams , @nonksity , @hinata7346 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @sad-darksoul , @sasuke-slut , @yuunie135 , @bratkuna , @aydene , @mshope16 , @pretentiousteentrash , @galactict3a , @kokos-property , @moonriseoverkyoto , @lyn-soso , @arilostie , @violetmatcha , @markleeisdabestdrug , @erensdior , @hp-simp505 , @fushiguro-kyuuuuuu , @bontensbabygirl , @switch-godess , @honey-yuh , @ddotsie

wanna join the taglist? | smoke and mirrors; chapter index

[moutheyes]

A fond farewell to Miseinen, See Your Love, and Caged Again

It's actually insane how hot 2025 is coming in. Out of these three series, I was originally only watching Caged Again (hello, I'm moutheyes, and I'm a WeTV Originals acolyte), but thanks to the fine folks here who make nice gifs I gave in and jumped on the bandwagons for Miseinen and See Your Love.

Original script counter: 2 originals, 1 adaptation (a transnational one at that!).

For anyone still waiting to watch the Caged Again finale, I'll put that one behind the cut even though there aren't any spoilers. :)

Miseinen

Somehow both more quiet and more dramatic than I expected. Liked the confusion-separation-reconciliation of it all very much, the way the tumult of youth—feelings amplified by a lack of freedom, sense of suffocation, and the uncertainty of the future—smoothed out, giving way to more even ground where Jin and Haruki could restart their interrupted hearts. The beauty of their relationship was how they saw each other for who they really were, and accepted those initial rough draft versions, and that was enough.

At the same time, the commitment to realism resonated deeply: of course Haruki's trauma meant he needed time to heal away from everything else, and of course Jin's filial nature meant he'd always be torn between duty and desire. The way this extended to the special episode was especially poignant, showing the complex navigation of a now-stable relationship within their separate careers and semi-shared social lives. I also appreciated how they found outlets to express themselves when they couldn't find the right words to say face to face: the letters, the movie, the metaphors they both worked into their art. Both main actors had standout moments, and their chemistry was also top tier—the eyes and the hands! Also loved the moody palette with the constant contrast between cool and warm tones, and the opening song is a total earworm, absolutely unskippable.

Initial rating: 8.0

See Your Love

Okay, so 75% of this show was designed specifically to punch me in a soft and vulnerable place. Shaopeng—and his family—showcased some of the most thoughtful disability rep I've seen in Asian media, not just QL. His storyline was uplifting and affirming, but didn't shy away from his frustrations or hardships, either. The progression and deepening of Shaopeng and Zixiang's relationship is where I thought the script did great work with Zixiang in particular. His devotion to learning sign language and his commitment to doing everything possible to immerse himself in Shaopeng's world, ugh. For such a useless nepo baby, Zixiang was remarkably clear-headed about his own weaknesses, and even leaned into them—his cowardice, his lack of self-sufficiency—to bolster Shaopeng's own confidence. And in return, he gained strength from Shaopeng's resilience to face his own issues head-on. (Special shout-out to Shaopeng's dad, aka the taekwondo instructor the guys from LFCT needed...)

The show did a beautiful job with the central romance, but did leave a few crumbs on the table. The second pairing was deeply unserious and underdeveloped (very cute and appealing dynamic though, I guess there's always fic), and neither Jessica nor Zicheng posed real threats to the HEA. Zicheng in particular never felt like a major player; his local hired thugs were kind of just helpfully inept, and his eleventh-hour interference attempt needed more setup on the emotional front, although I did enjoy the actual confrontation scene.

Initial rating: 7.5

Caged Again

I don't know how they managed to infuse this wacky premise of a show—a panther and a penguin transform into teenage boys and fall in love—with the warmth of a big group hug, but the metaphorical storytelling was a wild success. All of the characters in the show have their own cage keeping them from what they truly desire, whether it's loneliness, trauma, neglect, grief, or pressure from parents and society. It's simple, it's universal, and that's why it works.

It didn't hurt that the cast was disarmingly endearing! Jay was a little ball of charm as Junior, our penguin, whose curiosity about life as a human was surpassed only by his audacity and sass. Ben played panther Sun with a lot of quiet restraint, which worked due to the character's backstory, and Nokia and Jaonine rounded out the main teenager group with a charming soft-bickering dynamic. Add in a colorful support cast featuring real-life couple Porsche and Arm as some needed father figures and queer role models, a Mole Goddess whose hobby was breaking the fourth wall, a school principal with an inner minx, and the world's most Done With Your Nonsense security guard, and every episode was a rollicking good time.

I thought the villains—a pair of animal traffickers—were afforded a bit too much screentime, since they also doubled as additional comic relief, but there was something genuinely heartbreaking about Junior's relationship with Son, the zookeeper whose betrayal leads to some real moments of pathos. (Is there anything to how close Son and Sun are in spelling/pronunciation?) Overall, though, this was an unexpected comfort show with careful character work and a great sense of humor—and another prime example of why I hunger for more original scripts!

Initial rating: 8.0

A very strong start to the year, hope the rest of 2025 can deliver like this.

[luxsdelirium]

PIECES YOU DIDN’T KNOW JOSHUA CREATED!!

“PINKBANDZ TAKEOVER” FAME DR 003

BEYONCÉ X PINKBANDZ

“When I created The PinkPrint, I envisioned an aesthetic that was bold, playful, and unmistakably iconic. So when Beyoncé—one of my biggest inspirations and now a mentor—started incorporating my designs into her wardrobe, and sending me emails for sketches and asking me to send then to her.. it was a full-circle moment.

On the Renaissance tour, she wore multiple custom PinkBandz pieces, each one crafted to match her legendary stage presence. From flashy pink outfits, fluffy pink fur dresses, that shined under the spotlight, every look embodied the energy of PinkBandz—extravagant, fun, and effortlessly powerful.

Then came Halloween. Beyoncé took it to another level, stepping out in a full PinkBandz original—a reimagined version of an iconic pop culture look, but with my signature touch. The details? Custom embroidery, delicate pearls woven into the fabric, and of course, the signature pink palette that set PinkBandz apart. Social media went wild, solidifying the aesthetic as more than just a trend—it was a movement.

Seeing Beyoncé, a global fashion and music icon, embrace PinkBandz proved that this wasn’t just a moment in fashion, from seeing my sketches in my school notebook, to seeing them in the big stadium. It was the beginning of a legacy.” - Joshua

MEGAN THEE STALLION X PINKBANDZ

“Megan and PinkBandz? That match made in fashion heavennnn. I designed her now-infamous pink and blue leather boa outfit—a piece for confidence, seductiveness, and signature PinkBandz energy. The moment she stepped out in it, the internet explodeddd.. I was so happy.

Beyond that, Megan rocked 2 custom PinkBandz looks on tour, each one crafted to amplify her presence on stage. From shimmering pink bodysuits to bold, leather-trimmed coats, every piece embodied power, playfulness, and pure hot girl energy.

Megan didn’t just wear PinkBandz—she made it legendary.” - Joshua

[lovelybunn]

! NEW UNDERTALE AU ALERT !

welcome to DREEMURRTALE, all made by me !

↪

author's note: this entire idea came to me completely on a whim, and this is far from all the lore i have, so feel free to ask questions! i'll have my asks open just in case.

general overview:

dreemurrtale is a reimagining of the dreamtale AU, where undertale asriel and chara dreemurr take on the roles of dream and nightmare. instead of being born from an apple tree, they emerge from buttercup flowers infused with DETERMINATION—symbols of both innocence and toxicity, beauty and danger.

in this universe, asriel becomes aurel dreemurr, the embodiment of hope and balance, while chara becomes caligo dreemurr, the harbinger of realism and destruction. the siblings are mirrors of one another, bound by a single DETERMINATION soul. their fates are intertwined—one cannot exist without the other.

caligo, once stoic and overshadowed, grows resentful—not just toward aurel, but toward the world's cruelty and false positivity. they choose to consume the golden flowers, fully aware of the corruption it will bring, embracing transformation as "nightmare" to cleanse the multiverse of suffering. their mission is not born from malice, but from a misguided attempt to break the cycle of pain they have witnessed.

aurel, beloved and idealized, clings to the belief that light and darkness must coexist, even as he weakens beneath the weight of his title. when caligo turns against him, he is forced to fight the very person he has always sought to protect. their conflict is not a war of good vs. evil—it is a tragic misunderstanding between two souls who only ever wanted to save each other.

their names reflect their destinies:

aurel, derived from “aurelius” (meaning “golden”), embodies warmth, radiance, and unwavering hope.

caligo, meaning “darkness” or “mist,” signifies depth, obscured truths, and the relentless pursuit of a world freed from suffering.

at the heart of dreemurrtale lies a tale of duality, sacrifice, and the fragile balance between light and shadow—where love alone may not be enough to heal what has already been broken.

passive design descriptions (for artists bc i can't draw to save my life 💔):

aurel dreemurr (guardian of positive energy & balance)

pronouns: he/they

color palette: light green, gold, soft yellow, hints of white

clothing style: regal yet gentle, flowing robes or a light tunic with gold embroidery. his outfit gives off a celestial, ethereal vibe, representing hope and purity.

eyes: warm golden or bright yellow-green, with the twinkle resembling a SAVE point star, symbolizing their connection to fate and perseverance.

fur: soft, fluffy, and slightly unkempt, resembling asriel’s natural look but slightly longer. the tips emit a faint golden glow.

accessories:

a golden circlet or laurel crown symbolizing his role as a guardian.

a flowing cape or sash that drapes elegantly, resembling soft waves of energy.

delicate golden accents, possibly in the form of embroidery, jewelry, or armor pieces.

aura & magic: emits a soft, warm glow like morning sunlight. his energy appears as gentle wisps or streams of gold and green light.

powers:

healing & strengthening: can amplify hope, courage, and determination in others.

energy purification: gradually neutralizes negative energy but at the cost of his own strength.

light manifestation: creates protective barriers, glowing weapons, or ribbons of light to assist allies.

energetic empathy: deeply attuned to the emotions of others, able to sense their struggles and feelings, though he sometimes carries this burden too heavily.

weapon manifestation: constructs weapons of golden energy, but they are more defensive in nature rather than purely for combat.

limitation: cannot manipulate or absorb negative energy—doing so weakens him significantly.

caligo dreemurr (guardian of negative energy & realism)

pronouns: they/them

color palette: soft beige skin, dark green, deep brown, muted gold, hints of black

clothing style: more structured and militant than aurel’s, with heavier fabrics. their attire is practical yet noble, representing strength and endurance.

eyes: piercing dark green or muted gold, with the twinkle resembling a SAVE point star, mirroring aurel but with a sharper, almost calculating edge.

hair: a short bob with bangs, slightly messy with strands falling over their face, adding to their serious and intense demeanor.

accessories:

a dark cloak or cape that drapes over one shoulder, resembling the weight they carry, preferably right before they transform into "nightmare".

gold or deep green armor-like elements, possibly gauntlets or shoulder guards.

a simple, dark circlet or choker, subtly symbolizing their connection to aurel.

aura & magic: shadows ripple subtly around them, but their presence is not inherently menacing—just firm and resolute. their energy appears as dark green, deep gold, or faint wisps of black when they absorb negativity.

powers:

absorption of negativity: can take in and store negative energy, making them stronger.

energetic empathy: deeply attuned to the suffering of others, though they often hide this under their stoic nature.

barrier creation: forms protective shields that harden with absorbed energy.

weapon manifestation: constructs dark, solid weapons, more significantly knives, formed from absorbed emotions. unlike aurel’s, theirs are purely offensive.

limitation: while negativity empowers them, excessive absorption can overwhelm them, making them more unstable.

[theboarsbride]

Toying with colors and cover concept ideas…

Jane is very brightly colored and flamboyant, fitting her attention-seeking personality and hyper feminine public face…so lots and lots of bright pinks!

Terence is dramatically dark and brooding, so he has a more gothic palette with dark purples and greys. And the Beast amplifies that by being wholly dark with sickly bright colors for eyes.

….also enjoy a rough concept for a fake cover for TBWH based off of an old poster for The Island of Doctor Moreau

[soulbrothershow]

Have You Ever Been to Electric Ladyland? (The Remix)

Before distortion pedals hummed and wah-wahs wept through smoky venues, before a single amplifier ever roared with soul, Oshun was already electric. She didn’t need wires or knobs—her current ran through rivers, her rhythm echoed in waterfalls, and her melody was carried in the hips of every golden hour. Clad in sun-splashed yellow, with honeyed skin kissed by the gods, she was the original muse of music, seduction, and sound. Not just divine, but sonic—Oshun was and is the embodiment of frequency, vibration, and groove.

Her influence? It’s not just myth, it’s mapped in the cosmos of Black music. Jimi Hendrix didn’t just channel her—he saw her, deep in the swirl of feedback and firelight. That purple haze? Oshun’s golden aura, filtered through his third eye and a psychedelic mind. She moved through his fingers like water over stones, coaxing blues and sex and revolution out of six strings and pure intention.

Then came Prince—a child of Oshun’s essence if there ever was one. Who else could bathe in sensuality and strut in heels while shredding the air with blistering solos that were equal parts prayer and seduction? Oshun gave him the audacity to blur the binary, to turn soul into theater, to craft an altar out of every stage. She whispered in his ear, “Let them feel everything,” and he obeyed.

D’Angelo? That’s Oshun’s rhythm made flesh. His voice melted like honey across melodies soaked in sweat and incense. Every groove he laid down was a sip from her sacred river. That bassline in “Lady?” That’s not just a groove—it’s a spell. It’s Oshun herself swaying in candlelight, gold dripping from her wrists, blessing our ears with nectar.

But she hasn’t stopped. She’s still speaking, still channeling through chosen artists, still humming in the background of your brushstrokes, your verses, your vision. She’s in your palette when the yellows blaze too bright to be earthly. She’s in the curves of your lines, the pulse of your work, the aura that radiates from everything you touch. She is the muse, but also the medium.

Oshun is not just inspiration. She’s innovation. She’s vibration. She’s the current behind the current—the electricity before electricity. She is, and always has been, the original Electric Lady.

[theladyofbloodshed]

Who We Could Have Been - A Mor & Nesta friendship

A little one-shot set during the first week when Nesta is in Velaris after entering the Cauldron. It shows the Mor that I wished we saw, the care that I wished Nesta received, and a friendship that was never allowed to grow <3

It scratched at the windowsill, a never ending scrape-scrape. Nesta pulled the pillow over her head, wishing the bird would make the dive from its nest and splatter below rather than having to endure another moment of it thrashing and cheeping from the nest. Even the feathers in the pillow were too loud to her ears, the scrunch of the sheets too much. She took a respite in the bathroom, glad for the cool water that she splashed on her face and neck.

Velaris was a hell. Being fae was a nightmare. Her body was alien to her, the movements foreign and lumbering like a newborn lamb. Nesta moved quicker now as evidenced by the number of times she’d overbalanced with her steps. It was not only speed. Her body was stronger. The soaked nightgown that she’d been brought here in had ripped in two when she tried to pull it off her body, so she’d been left naked and crying in the bedroom whilst searching for the promised robes that were within.

Maybe another might be glad for the speed and strength, but Nesta hated it. Her senses were amplified; the colours brighter, her hearing tuning in to every slight sound, she could smell when one of them was cooking at the other end of the house – and that always had a far richer taste than she was used to. For the first couple of days, all Nesta could stomach was dry toast. It was all too rich, too heavy for her new-found palette.

A soft knock at the door came as it did every morning around this time. The others left them alone, which Nesta was glad for. Hopefully, the blonde one would get the hint soon enough.

Morrigan never did.

The key in the door was useless because she used her magic to turn it back around, so Nesta had to wonder why they even bothered with locks in Prythian if people came and went as they pleased.

‘Good morning. How do you feel today?’

Nesta pressed her hands to her temples, the noise shooting through her.

‘Do you have a headache again?’ Mor took a step forwards. She tilted her head so blonde hair cascaded across her face. ‘Shall I send for Madja?’

‘I do not want that woman anywhere near me,’ declared Nesta.

That rotten healer had smiled at her and said everything was perfect. It was not perfect. It was far from perfect. It was long limbs and pointed ears and everything too damn loud.

She clutched her head, voice rising, ‘Will that bird leap to its death or leave me the hell alone?’

Morrigan’s eyes widened then she held up a finger. ‘One moment.’

While she departed, Nesta perched on a sliver of the mattress. Buried beneath layers of blankets, despite the warm spring morning, Elain slept soundly. She reminded Nesta of a girl from a story who pricked her finger and slept for a thousand years. To the fae, that was probably nothing. A blink of an eye and they welcomed a new millennium. She ran a hand against Elain’s face then shivered at the sound of her hair sliding over itself.

‘Ta-da!’

Mor held out a mass of fluffy, white fur.

‘What am I meant to do with that?’

The woman had no bearings on propriety. She crowded Nesta’s space as she placed the two balls of fur against her ears. Her fingers were warm on the points of Nesta’s ears, but she still felt revulsed by somebody touching them. They were a reminder of what she was.

When Morrigan stepped away, it was… better. The sound was muffled. Less intense.

‘Ear muffs! I forgot to give them back to Viviane last time I visited her, but if they work then they work.’

Nesta could finally breathe. The brightness and taste, she could manage. The bombardment of sound had been a constant battle that had been wearing her down.

‘Does that feel better, Nesta?’

She didn’t know why but she felt heat building in her face as tears prickled her eyes. ‘Yes.’

Mor touched her hand. ‘This is new ground for us too. We don’t know the ways in which you’re struggling so I’ll need you to be vocal.’ Her fingers slipped into Nesta’s. ‘You're not a burden for telling us what you need. I know it’s scary. I can’t imagine how you feel. But I’m here. We are all here for you – and Elain – for as long as it takes.’

The final portion of the dam collapsed and a flood of tears broke through. She was not one for weeping or embraces. Tears were to be briefly shed alone then forgotten about. Servants were forbidden from coddling them – and her mother was not the sort to do it either. Yet, when Mor instinctively moved forwards and wrapped her arms around Nesta, she was so grateful for that touch. To not be the one having to hold it all together. To have a moment where she didn’t need to worry about Elain.

‘Let’s go for a chat,’ the woman said against her cheek.

‘Elain,’ began Nesta.

‘Elain is asleep. We won’t be far.’

It was against her better judgement, but Nesta followed. In the week since they had been taken from their beds, Nesta had barely seen beyond the four walls of the bedroom. She’d cloistered herself in there, unable to take any more change.  It was a prison. A prison to fester.

‘We’re quite high up in the house, so we won’t winnow yet if the noise is too much. Velaris can be… loud,’ she said, smiling brightly. ‘Do you paint like Feyre?’

‘No.’

‘A shame,’ said Mor as they walked through a red-walled corridor with brightly coloured rugs strewn about haphazardly as if they had too many that they didn’t know what to do with them. ‘Velaris is known for its artists’ quarter. We’ve got lots of markets too if you’re a food lover.’

Disappointment grew in her. ‘Not particularly.’

‘No matter. What do you like to do, Nesta?’

Upset my sisters. Ruin my future.

‘Read.’

Could nothing dim Morrigan’s cheery disposition? Her eyes had blown wide with delight. ‘Oh, do I have the perfect place. Wait. Maybe not today,’ she pondered aloud. ‘Lots of priestesses. Lots of noise. But,’ Mor took her by the hand like she was a child’s plaything. ‘Yes! Let’s go.’

Nesta tried not to frown as she was tugged along the corridor then down a set of steps. Something sweet was baking in the oven, the smell wafting towards them. But it was not the kitchen that Mor towed her towards. They reached a set of double doors where Mor gave her a knowing look.

‘Behold,’ she whispered, pushing open a door.

Rows and rows of books filled her vision. It was a library. A personal library stacked with shelves, each one begging Nesta to run her eyes along it and choose a title.

She moved to take a step then held herself back.

‘It’s okay,’ Mor reassured her, touching her arm. ‘Go in. Have a look. Take as much time as you need. I need to get something – unless you want me to stay?’

‘I can be alone,’ Nesta replied.

The library was warm with wedges of sunlight pouring in through the tall windows. The books in its path had spines damaged by sunlight so the leather was fading. Nesta stood in the light, letting it soak into her bones. Her finger trailed along one shelf, tracking each book and wondering which to read. There were sections on the arts, history, geography, poetry, foreign books – and even a whole section dedicated to fiction. Father always said it was a waste of time. Nothing could be learnt from a story. Mother despised reading entirely.

Why must your head be filled with words? A husband will not take to being outwitted by his wife.  

Their scoldings could never staunch her desire. Nesta had read in secret, had stolen books from father’s collection at night and returned them in the morning. She’d begged the housekeeper to buy her them and she’d find the money from somewhere.

When Nesta was already a chapter deep into a heavy, ancient book about the history of the Night Court, Morrigan returned.

‘I bring snacks,’ she announced.

A handful of cakes had been artfully arranged on a plate, their icing colourful and appetising.

Mor caught her gazing at them. ‘Take one. I brought them for you.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Yes, you can.’

Why did it feel like a weakness to admit the ways in which she was struggling? It wasn’t Nesta’s fault that she was in this life. Not her fault that it was new and scary.

‘Everything tastes so strong.’

Morrigan gave a murmur of understanding. ‘Feyre suffered with that. She just had to push through and get used to it, I think. I wish she was here. She’d be a better help.’ Mor just shrugged, letting the words roll away. ‘What about tea? Can you manage that?’

One of the strange women appeared from the shadows, as if she had always been there.  Nesta was sure that sometimes she blurred at the edges as though not quite real.

‘Is that alright, Cerridwen?’

The woman nodded then vanished again.

Mor leaned forwards and rested her chin on a closed fist. ‘What are you reading?’

‘A history of this court.’ Nesta swallowed. This woman was trying to make conversation, trying to help. Being prickly would only push away the help. ‘All I’ve ever been told is that faeries cannot lie and they will enjoy hurting us. I don’t know anything. I don’t know how long you live, who are your enemies – if you can lie.’

‘We can lie. We can touch iron. We can step across a circle.’

‘What a list of talents you have,’ came a drawling man’s voice.

Oh. It was him.

As Cassian approached, carrying a tray of tea, Nesta’s body coiled tight like a snake ready to strike if he came too close.

Mor gave a sarcastic laugh. ‘I’m helping Nesta to understand how fantastic we are.’

‘Oh, you’re a historian? When did I miss that?’ Cassian came around the back of Nesta’s chair, taking a deliberately longer route to get to the space on the table, before putting down the tray.

‘And you’re a waiter now?’

Cassian threw Mor a wink as he poured the tea for the two of them. ‘A male of many talents.’

His eyes slid to Nesta, cataloguing all of the changes in her. She’d not seen him since he was bleeding out on the floor in Hybern’s castle. She remembered the twitch of his fingers, the jerk of his bloody wings.

‘Your wings have healed,’ she stated.

Cassian slowly – ever so slowly – dipped his chin like he was in disbelief that she’d noticed they were not ruined ribbons hanging behind him. ‘They’re not as they were. I need to practise flying. I’ll, uh, be flying here often to strengthen them.’

His eyes dipped to her lips as she brought the scalding cup to her lips only to have something to do with her hands.

Those words hung there. An offer if she wanted to take it. He’d come here again if she wanted to see him?

‘Shoo,’ said Mor. ‘I have an in-depth history of the Hewn City to tell Nesta and I won't have you spoiling it with stories of how amazing you are.’

Cassian held up his hands. ‘Nes, if you want to know about brave warriors, I’m waiting.’

Long after Cassian departed, Nesta was still on a cloud somewhere. Mor’s words hardly registered although at any other time, Nesta would have been riveted with the history of Morrigan’s family. Her mind was caught on a pair of hazel eyes and a teasing grin. Cassian hadn’t commented on the ear muffs she wore or that she was even out of the bedroom.

For hours they talked, conversation swirling from serious discussions about the political alignment of the Night Court to the best boutiques for clothing and embarrassing stories about Cassian – of which Morrigan had plenty. When Nesta finally gave in to the squirming guilt that encouraged her to check in on Elain and be with her, Mor insisted she take a few library books with her and also insisted that Nuala and Cerridwen would be happy to make her whatever food she wanted as long as she asked them.

‘I’m really glad you came out of the room,’ said Mor, linking her arm with Nesta’s on the walk back. ‘Same again tomorrow?’

Tomorrow. Tomorrow meant a future. It meant no longer hiding. It meant accepting that this was her life.

Nesta offered a short smile. ‘I can do tomorrow.’

[creatively-cosmic]

some cookie subspecies classifications with visuals to accompany. if you want to see unfiltered rambling about what these mean copied straight from discord then feel free 2 look below the cut. lotta thoughts on it

firstly heres the initial chart we drew about this to kind of explain the way things flow down. the elements are the nine elements in kingdom and the beasts are NOT the beast cookies btw.

the BASIS for a lot of this that i'll clarify first; in our lore, cookies are usually made with a traditional gingerbread recipe, with the addition of (at least) two primary ingredients- one Edible component for flavor, and one Magical component for. well. magic. the magical ingredients can often be inedible, but baking them into a cookie can help soften it up (so to speak), as well as hone and amplify its properties.

the ingredients used will determine what a cookie will be classified as on this chart, as well as how heavily a cookie hones their magic during early developmental stages.

[id also like to tag @promniight whos pastry dash au was a big inspiration for me 2 start brainstorming on this kind of stuff. i tried very hard not to make any elements a direct ripoff but the system of "different ingredients bringing out different characteristics" was so good it made me start hyperfixating on this goddamn game again OUHDNKDLLJNDS]

anyways. because i dont have the energy right now to make everything pretty, from here on you will be subjected to my raw 1am discord concept ranting about the different classifications, what they mean, and how to identify them. i'll also put examples of cookies under each blurb!

starting at the basic cookies and ill just rattle off from there. first is the STANDARD build. most basic of basics you can possibly get and the template for all the rest of these. its so bog standard that its entire palette is ripped straight off our gingerbrave design we just made it more sexually ambiguous. this one is essentially what you;d get if you baked a living gingerbread cookie with No extra special ingredients. in its most natural state, its a plain body with a natural dough color, hair and eyelashes matching its frosting (white is the most common and traditional, esp for eyelashes), with its eyes, mouth, and jam all having a monochromatic palette (ex in the example theyre all shades of the same blue).

a bog-standard magician is the exact same deal, with a few differences to reflect the further prominence of their magical ingredient. if the first example is an unspecial gingerbread cookie, this is a gingerbread cookie with extra glitter. their eyes, mouth, teeth, and innards can have a secondary color that reflects their magic, rather than the monochromatic palette of the first. these cookie's hair also grows faster because of the higher amount of magic active within them causing their bodies to develop in that way, so unless a magician is very good at maintenance, they'll likely have longer hair and more prominent eyelashes. this is how i have justified my awesome big fantasy eyelash swag

these traits will run pretty standard across the board (ie the natural cookies have monochromatic eyes with shorter lashes while the magical ones tend towards crazier colors with frilly lashes. this isnt actually all that reflected. maybe multicolored eyes are a rare trait for all i know. lets not overthink that yauy)

OKAY SO the natural cookie builds. with how many possible animals there are on gods green earth its impossible to account for every possible variant there could be so i went extremely generic. broadly speaking its a case-by-case basis- i think these four show pretty well the degrees of prominence those Living Thing traits can have across them (this includes plant). at minimum, the ingredient will reflect through their like. hair and patches of their dough, and the "fleshy" bits like the eyes and mouth, as seen on the plant example. from there traits will most often show up at the cookies back and "edges", or where edges laid during the flat period of their life (something about edges being crispy and cooked more, idk), as seen on the terrestrial cat cookie example. then it'll bleed further "in," as seen on the avian, leaving really only the face and torsos dough visible. then with the aquatic cookie, its just all in, dough fully covered in those colorful scales and fins. on each of these i drew them with the most common builds seen throughout our designs but any of them can go in any way- a fish could be as subtle as a few gills on the neck, and a plant could be practically a walking flower. in fact an example of a "fully plant plant cookie" would be our imagining of millennial tree, as his body is built up out of wood, his dough covered in a layer of bark. swag. also avians get an extra appendange instead of their arms being wings because cookies are baked in an inherently humanoid shape and that mold is hard to break without further asension. its easier to tack new limbs on than to completely reshape whats already been hard-baked in. and also the wings look cool like that smiles

ill cover fae next because i grew the spirits last so im following my mental order

a fae/daemon is often classified in the eye of the beholder. theyre that amorphous middle ground between the fairies and demons that cant quite be pinned for what they more closely abide by.. theyre fluid and usually revel in that fact. of course, theyre extremely magical, but with those natural ingredients still prominent. theyre double dipping, those sons of bitches. the most typical form is that it's nigh indistinguishable from a standard member of any other class, only able to be identified by that slight offness to them, and their low-contrast eyes that have no pupils. theyre often shapeshifters of some kind so its usually likely that this cookie form isnt even their real one anymore, especially if theyre magically inclined enough to have ascended.

[fae / fae / daemon]

a fairy has a more concrete form than a fae, traits typically including translucent wings of some sort (doesnt necessarily have to be insectoid, its just common), emotive pointy ears, a pale discoloring at their extremities, and eyes that are (similar to fae), low-contrast, but usually more vividly colored and having pupils that match the color of the whites. though other traits arent absurd to see- antlers and flowers (a la plant cookies) and rarer but not too uncommon examples that come to mind, and in the current fae society on beast-yeast (god i need to rename that), ashier dough colors are often seen due to the use of metals like silver, iron, tin, or fucking. mercury apparently. as the magic ingredients in their dough, due to being one of the most readily accessible materials that could offer such properties- materials scavenged from the remains of the witch's banquet hall. (dark enchantress left no magic or ingredients behind... but the silverware probably wasn't worth the effort. tgey were forced to eat forks when they were two years old)

angels are like fairies to the next step. being adjacent to elemental spirits, i think they can come in varied colors and shapes, but can be generally identified by multiple pairs of pale, near-white wings and eyes, with their extremities fading into that color as well (talk about a . magic touch . booyah). theyre can powerful, but tend to be less chaotic than raw elementals or neutral fae. i dont have a lot on angels yet but i think wind archer classifies as an angel.

[fairy / angel / angel]

demonsss . guys that tend to embrace the mischeif of the neutral fae/daemons but usually in a more physical manner. like fairies and angels, they tend to have wings, but far more tangible ones- albeit less useful for actually flying. maybe that excess of magic just loves making cookies sprout extra appendages. yk what jot that down. for all i know those could be more arms on all of em. THE MORE IMPORTANT PART IS unlike the fairy wings and even angel wings to an extent, these ones are Solid. Tangible. fairy wings you go right through like mist. angel wings probably work like oobleck. these are tangible Doing Shit appendages. i realize now i forgot to draw the tail but they also tend to get those. long, slender, prehensile is the typical way. they also have long expressive ears and can be pretty quickly identified by their eye trait of white slit pupils on sclera. OH and the darker discoloration on their extremities. you can tell example demon isnt just a Bat avian because of the lack of fur, the white pupils, and the discoloration. okay ? swag

dragons. wgat if demons were really really big and more of a creature. dragons can come in many many many shapes and sizes. especially dragon cookies. the most broad explanation is … a bit chimera with it. traits of an avian, a terrestrial, and an aquatic creature mixes into one greater beast cooked up on the demon cookie frying pan. aside from being broadly recognized by being the "Monster" of the cookie classifications, you can more accurately pinpoint one by, you guessed it, the eyes. wings, tails, scales and horns are common but they cant be your ONLY judgement- after all, you can find those things on any other cookie. cmon now. dragon eyes will, very consistently, be multicolored- a trait that is shared among all fae that i FORGOT TO MENTION UNTIL NOW FUCKK AAAH is that, unlike other cookies, they lack a white outline around their sclera. fucked up ey? for dragons, their eyes are all pitch black, aside from that outline- that's the primary color- and their pupils- thats the secondary. it also makes them look rad as hell. otherwise dragon traits to body ratio follows the same logic that it does for the other Beasts Y Plant cookies- given a lot of dragon cookies are just natural born dragons reincarnating themselves into a cookie form bc theyre all fucking insane i guess, this ratio is usually All Dragon so you wont usually see a shitton of dough.

[demon / demon / dragon]

with elementals the biggest thing that defined them is the fact that their body is, either partially or wholly, composed of the element they embody. in a fashion that folllows the Natural cookies stuff, partial elementals will usually have their edges, extremities, and hair composed of that element. a lot are just entirely That Thing though. this can and does make life difficult for some people (ie imagine being a guy made entirely out of Don't Touch substances like Poison or Fire or Electricity. taht would suck. not to mention the intangible ones like Light and Darkness). aside from the obvious Special Guy made out of Slutch stuff, you can pinpoint them pretty quick by their eyes being entirely one color, with only white pupils to break it up. no sclera, no outline. thats why i specified that on dragons and demons. the difference matters. whee

ghosts are the easiest ones because no cookie is born as a ghost, rather Reborn as a ghost. be it through spiritual willpower or rebaking the body anew (looks around), a more accurate term would. honestly be undead. because they arent really a ghost in the traditional sense given the entire point is they still have and inhabit their body. its just. spiritually unstable. rebaked cookies will naturally be much more stable ghosts than those who just put their own crumbs back together, but all of them, having their souls at least partially seperated from their bodies, can fade in and out of a less tangible form. you can fade through anything if you make your crumbs fine enough. self-revived ghosts are usually the easiest to identify, with large, deep, and visible cracks across their bodies, as well as areas just straight up missing pieces. rebaked ghosts will also have those cracks, but moreso as scars- spots that were missing would be filled in with discolored dough (hard to make the exact recipie twice down to the exact color). all ghosts will have tapered off fingers and toes (funny claw justification. i can imagine it simply being a matter of the dough wearing away over time, faster at the finer points. like a candy cane). they'll also very rarely bleed- most of that jam is either coating their dough to hold together, or condensed in their soulstone so as to protect what's left of it. something like withdrawing itself. their hair and stray crumbs will be naturally floaty (strong emotions can extend that effect to their immediate environment). and the eyes, always the main giveaway- hollow, showing the dark inside of the head, with purely white sclera and pupils being their primary color. a bit haunting innit

uhh ok tldr guide for the road

standard cookies are just some guy. humanoid. monochromatic eye colors. white outline around sclera. cookies follow this guide unless specified otherwise.

magicians are just some guy but with magic. you can tell theyre magic because they get Two Unique Colors in their eyes and their hair grows faster.

natural cookies show their naturalness as the edges. we love extra appendages here. plants grow leaves and animals grow fur/feathers/scales/whatever else. yay

neutral fae/daemons are the silly putty of the equation but usually they look like just some guy but Watch Out. can be easily identified by pale eye color and a complete lack of pupils.

fairies get funny translucent wings and big elf ears. they dont have white sclera outlines, scelera barely sticks out from whites, and whites are the same color as pupils. their extremities are a Little pale

angels favorite color is white and anything near it. theyre practically glowing. multiple wings/extra limbs/whatever. eyes are like entirely blank i think i forgot to say that. extremities are the same near-white-if-not-white color as the wings and eyes.

demons have white slit pupils and pointy ears too. their extremities are Darker. their wings/extra limbs/whatever are fully tangible but arent super functional but its ok bc they look cool. and they have prehensile tails to compensate. also their sclera outlines are black instead of white

dragons follow the same principals as the natural squad and posses traits of at least one of each (terrestrial avian and aquatic beast). their eyes are black except for the places where they arent. pupils are one color and sclera outlines are another and thats it. the rest is black

elementals are when a guy is made of an element. their eyes are one color everywhere aside from white pupils. ez ghosts are crumbled cookies. you can always tell theyve been crumbled bc cracks. they have creepypasta eyes (hollow w white sclera and colored pupils) and dont bleed. theyre floaty!

[discord rant over] if you read this far thank you and i hope this is even remotely comprehensible. a lot of cookie stuff is still in workshopping and even this will def get more fleshed out as we brainstorm for it.

if you made it all the way down here, send in a kingdom cookie (not a beast or ancient) and i'll try and sketch a design for them in our rewrite! this is not me promising anything, i just want to do more designs and. this seems like a fun way to do it perhaps. in general, feel free to shoot any questions about the rewrite our way too!

also: a rough chart of where the kingdom cookies could fall in terms of classification. this isnt really final or super concise

[pianostarinwonderland]

People are making fun of the luxe outfits but I think they’re pretty decent, there was thought put behind them.

Omg thank you for saying this anonie 😭😭 if you weren’t gonna send this in, I would have made my own post on it

I get why the outfits didn’t hit right at first. I saw the live 2D of Azul’s outfit and got a bit sad at first since the way the sleeves fell and the way the jacket framed his body didn’t look super flattering (plus I was sad it wasn’t a tailcoat ahahahahah). This is coupled with the fact that among the three, Azul fits the least in those colors hahaha. Those aren’t bad colors by any means, in fact, as someone who’s gotten a color analysis and came out with autumn as my best color palette, those are suchhh perfect colors for me. But Azul doesn’t fit those at all, especially the light brown. Heck, even if you just flipped the colors of the jacket and the dress shirt underneath, he would have looked so much better since dark colored tops work better with him in general than light colored ones (unless we’re talking silver/lavender/light blue, Those fit him very well).

Jamil and Ace are lucky in that they do fit the color palette better. People also just took issue with how Jamil’s pants look very wide.

But honest thoughts? I find that they do look good, especially when considering the theme of the event, and the event itself has listed the reasonings behind the designs of their outfits.

I think we have to remember that this is high fashion, hence the fits won’t hit with the majority of the fandom, who don’t really follow that kind of fashion. Jamil’s fit, especially with the wide pants, is common to see in fashion, and really to be honest, when we take into account of his character and personality, wide pants fits Jamil more than slim pants. Plus, in the event, the reason for that kind of fit is because of Vil’s profile for Jamil that he sent to the designer: a plain or humble guy who worries a lot in the background, to which the designer adjusted to a humble guy who behaves in moderation (from @mysteryshoptls).

Ace’s fit hits well with many people because it matches a lot of trends and classic fashion tips that we, especially younger people, like to see: slim figure, an emphasized waist, cropped top. It matches his description that Vil gave of him being an immature potato 😂 or the designer’s adjusted version of him having that fresh new student feel (also @mysteryshoptls).

Azul, now I will say he’s just a victim to the live2D not doing him any service. 🥲 The sleeves fall very stiffly, and the jacket doesn’t seem to frame him well. But you can see in his SR how the outfit is meant to look and shine:

The sleeves are meant to be very flowy especially when he’s walking and making dramatic gestures with his arms (something that he does a Lot in his live2D). His jacket as well is meant to be that long so that it would look like a trail (??? English isn’t Englishing rn) especially when he’s walking or making big movements. In other words, Azul’s outfit probably doesn’t stand out too much at first. But the moment he brings out the drama, the drama of his fit shines and amplifies his theatrics, thus attracting people. It sort of matches Vil’s profile for Azul is a scammer, and the designer adjusted it to a mysterious person who charms people (also @mysteryshoptls).

There’s a lot of thought put into the design, and I love them so much. I still find the colors a bit of a tragedy personally, only because it’s not Azul’s best colors, but thematically, considering the event story, it makes a lot of sense. I’m excited for what happens later on in the story and what they’re going to do in the film festival :3c

[danika-redgrave124]

Umbra Witch Yuu Infernal Demons

Heartslabyul

Cardinalia, The Crimson Sovereign

Normal Weapon: Royal Reckoning

Appearance-

Cardinalia manifests as a towering, regal figure, with the imposing stature of a queen. Her form is adorned with armor-like plating that mimics a deck of playing cards, each piece detailed with swirling patterns of red and black. Her crown is a fusion of thorny roses and sharp-edged spades, while her royal gown flows in a mesmerizing cascade of shimmering red hearts and swirling black clubs, as if she is always on the verge of unraveling into a storm of cards. Cardinalia’s eyes glow a fiery red, and her hands bear massive, heart-shaped gauntlets capable of crushing her enemies.

Abilities-

Hearts' Dominion: When summoned, Cardinalia can command a storm of razor-sharp playing cards, each infused with infernal energy. These cards can slice through enemies or form protective barriers around Yuu.

Royal Edict: With a single motion, she can summon massive ethereal hearts to smash down on foes, creating shockwaves that knock back enemies.

Fury of the Suits: In sync with the Royal Reckoning Cardinalia channels her energy into the axe, amplifying its Hearts’ Fury ability. The ethereal card suits that swirl around Yuu take on demonic life, transforming into spectral creatures that attack foes or shield them from harm.

Off with Their Heads: Cardinalia uses her gauntlets to grip enemies, crushing them in a display of royal wrath, leaving behind bursts of red and black flame.

Madcap, The Teacup Trickster

Normal Weapon: Wonderland Edge

Appearance-

Madcap appears as a whimsical, lanky figure that resembles a trickster from a dream. He is adorned in a patchwork costume of vibrant blues, whites, and pastel colors that reflect the whimsical aesthetic of Wonderland. His face is painted with a playful smile, with one eye wide and gleaming with mischief while the other squints as if peering into another reality. Madcap’s hair is a wild, tousled mess, resembling a teapot spout, and his arms are elongated, allowing him to manipulate the Wonderland Edge scepters with dexterity.

Abilities-

Reality Distortion: When summoned, Madcap releases a wave of energy that temporarily alters the battlefield, causing illusions and confusing enemies. This chaos enhances Yuu's agility, allowing them to dodge attacks effortlessly while disorienting foes.

Teacup Tempest: Madcap conjures a flurry of animated teacups that swirl around enemies, striking them and causing erratic magical effects, like random bursts of laughter or sudden slow-motion moments.

Curious Confections: He can summon whimsical pastries that explode upon impact, releasing bursts of confounding smoke that obscure vision and disorient enemies, leaving them vulnerable to Yuu's attacks.

Jester’s Gambit: Madcap can create illusionary doubles of Yuu that confuse enemies and draw their attacks, giving them openings to counterattack.

Brewster, The Mischievous Barista

Appearance-

Brewster takes the form of a comical, anthropomorphic teapot creature with a stout body and oversized, floppy ears resembling teacup handles. His vibrant color palette features swirling patterns of pastel blues, pinks, and yellows that evoke the whimsical essence of a mad tea party. His eyes sparkle with mischief, and steam billows playfully from his spout-like head. Brewster carries a pair of oversized teacup pistols that are as chaotic and eccentric as his personality, complete with whimsical designs that constantly shift and change.

Abilities-

Tea Time Frenzy: When Brewster is summoned, he amplifies the magical energy of the pistols, allowing Yuu to fire streams of chaotic energy. Each shot produces random effects, such as bursts of confetti that blind and distract enemies or colorful illusions that confuse them.

Teacup Swarm: Brewster can summon a horde of animated teacups that whirl around enemies, knocking them off balance and attacking with playful ferocity. The teacups can explode upon impact, creating dazzling displays of light and sound that further disorient foes.

Brew of Chaos: Brewster brews an ethereal tea that enhances Yuu's abilities temporarily, allowing her to move with increased speed and agility while their attacks deal extra whimsical damage.

Mad Hat’s Riddle: He can cast an illusion that mimics Yuu, creating confusion among enemies and providing them with opportunities to strike while they are distracted.

Jesterina, The Phantasmal Trickster

Normal Weapon: Smile Tails

Appearance-

Jesterina appears as an enchanting yet eerie figure, resembling a spectral jester-like cat with a flowing, tattered costume made of vibrant purple and pink fabric. Her face is painted with an exaggerated grin, showcasing sharp, gleaming teeth that contrast with her ethereal, shadowy presence. Her long hair billows like smoke, streaked with colors that shift and shimmer as she moves. Jesterina wields the Smile Tails blades with grace, her fingers dancing around the curved handles, which seem to pulse with a mysterious energy.

Abilities-

Grinning Apparition: When summoned, Jesterina creates a flurry of illusionary copies of the Smile Tails that strike enemies from multiple angles. Each copy glimmers with the same eerie glow as the original blades and disappears in a burst of mischievous laughter, leaving behind afterimages that confuse foes.

Phantom Juggle: Jesterina can toss her blades into the air, creating a swirling vortex of light and color. The blades become momentarily untouchable, allowing Yuu to maneuver through enemies while they are disoriented by the spectacle.

Echoing Laughter: With each successful strike, Jesterina's laughter resonates throughout the battlefield, inducing fear in enemies and lowering their defenses for a short time, making them more susceptible to attacks.

Illusionary Decoy: Jesterina can create a playful hologram of herself that mimics her movements, drawing enemy attacks away from Yuu. The decoy grins widely and disappears with a giggle, leaving enemies confused.

Cadenza, The Ace of Shadows

Normal Weapon: Royal Card

Appearance-

Cadenza appears as a regal, knightly figure draped in flowing black and red robes that shimmer like playing cards in the light. His body is adorned with sharp, angular designs that echo the aesthetic of the Royal Card sword, featuring the Queen of Hearts emblem prominently on his chest. Cadenza's face is concealed behind a mask shaped like a giant playing card, with intricate designs that glow in sync with the sword’s energy. He wields a massive sword that resembles a colossal playing card, radiating an aura of authority and power.

Abilities-

Deck of Fate: When summoned, Cadenza enhances Yuu's attacks, unleashing a rapid series of slashes that send out shockwaves shaped like playing cards. Each shockwave deals damage and applies stacking debuffs to enemies, making them more susceptible to Yuu's subsequent strikes.

Card Minions: With each slash, Cadenza can summon small, animated card minions that dart around the battlefield, distracting and confusing foes. These minions can explode upon command, releasing bursts of energy that inflict further damage.

Shockwave of Cards: Each slash sends out a shockwave shaped like a playing card that deals damage to enemies caught in its path. These shockwaves can also apply various debuffs, such as reduced speed, weakened defense, or increased susceptibility to elemental damage, stacking with each successful hit.

Ace's Gambit: Cadenza can create an ethereal card barrier around Yuu, providing them with protection while countering enemy attacks with a reflective shockwave that deals damage back to their attackers.