Tumgik
#I LOVE ASTRAL SO MUCH
bakudekublogblog · 5 days
Text
Tumblr media
hating kacchan of the bakugous should be a crime actually. look at this cutie patootie. the pookiest of pookie bears. sweetest angel bean. the babiest boy in babyville.
572 notes · View notes
undefeatablesin · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
Like just about everyone else does, the Good Hunter Ruza finds Lady Maria very ✨️compelling✨️
664 notes · View notes
moeblob · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
Mr. Yang is indeed the absolute love of my life. The man I wish would just talk to me as he chaperoned my adventures. Please. I love him so much. I just..... wanna listen to him talk about whatever.
(and I genuinely love how the MC texts him like "what is this" and I do have a silly idea involving that but.... the fact even in canon your character looks at him and goes 'that's a very smart man whom I trust with my life despite him literally knocking me out! I'll just text him!')
821 notes · View notes
venomous-qwille · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
My art and collabs from Weekly Magma Session 3!
Did a little painting of Astral Bodies Moon doing man in the moon on a lyra <3 (first image) @just-a-drawing-bean very nicely let me colour their sleuth eclipse drawing (second drawing) which was far too much fun. did a looooovely collab with @justjest drawing Moon for their Sun on the first (colossal) Magma board and fourth image is a lil sketch of Lawyer Moon reading a book before bed, he reads obscure litigation like it's a bedtime story
427 notes · View notes
sicahyart · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Game so Xenoblade coded I had to doodle some crossover stuff
188 notes · View notes
preprzenapiletina · 5 months
Text
Card game alien stares into your soul
Tumblr media
107 notes · View notes
alrightbuckaroo · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Do you go out with friends?
911 Lone Star dir. Christine Khalafian | Psycho dir. Alfred Hitchcock
55 notes · View notes
shippingbell · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Oooh yeah Platinum ohh yeah PLATINUM
COMMISSION for a friend of mine Vuts! Who started playing Platinum(the better character) recently!! Before I get an ask, I haven't opened commissions for the public yet because I am afraid and self conscious but I will eventually!! Promise!!
52 notes · View notes
galedekarios · 3 days
Text
larian truly revealing bit by bit how they actively chose to make their game worse
44 notes · View notes
botenbooty · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
IM GOING TO DRAW ALL THE CHARACTERS I HAVE. WHY NOT.
today ima start with my fave trio: Trailblazer, March 7th and Dan Heng. And I'm actually really proud of this one.
Don't ask who I'll draw next.... cause I forgot.
Also... I feel like branching out into pintrest tiktok and YouTube.
29 notes · View notes
cutesycadaver · 3 months
Text
I have a type and it's them
Tumblr media Tumblr media
31 notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media
this is my first real zexal fanart and im not sorry
228 notes · View notes
its-aleths · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Draws I got from friends at Galacon!
#1 and 2 - @tricomator
#3 - @tallaferroxiv
#4 - @jrspore
#5 - @fuzzlepop
#6 and 7 - @thedragenda
42 notes · View notes
starheirxero · 1 month
Text
Do you think making eye contact with astral bodies makes mortals dizzy and lightheaded? Do you think to robots with lower quality optics look at them and see nothing but a figure of blinding light? Do you think the stars on their bodies shift around sometimes? Do you think they have to consciously control their body temp to not risk burning things or people around them? Do you think they can technically change their form to be more human, but have enough experience with humans to know they don't take kindly to the uncanny valley? Bc i do. I think all of this. Always.
17 notes · View notes
venomous-qwille · 1 year
Note
"You're lucky you're cute" ouo
Sooo this... became a bit more than a drabble in the end I must admit. By the time I reached the prompt Moon had already managed to derail the scene in my mind- turning it into something more akin to a half-chapter of Astral Bodies (in fact this will most certainly be worked into a chapter further down the line). This whole thing was super inspiring, so thanks Celtic :) With all this in mind, minor spoilers ahead for Astral Bodies. TW for a little bit of PDA. The song playing in the aerial scene is After Dark by Mr. Kitty. Preview~
Tumblr media
Fic under the cut~
"You're lucky you're cute" Moon/Reader Words: 3648
You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, the remains of glitter transferring in a sweaty iridescent smear that shimmers up your forearm. It doesn’t matter how much makeup remover you use; you could rub your face ‘til it was raw and you would still find glitter on your pillow, in your shower, in the bottom of your dance bag…
You stretch and sigh, it has been a long-ass day. The last of the parade performers and maintenance staff have already left Character 2, making their way back home to the residences.
But you…
Well, it is 00:48am and you are nothing if not a glutton for punishment. You are buzzed. You know if you go back to your room there is no way you will be sleeping. Not a chance. Nope.
You had told Sunny that you would head home… but you had never specified that you’d head home right away. Granted he had given you a look, one of the ones he usually saved for moments of exasperation, exceptionally naughty children or consecutive lunches with low nutritional value. You chose to take that for what it was: his tacit understanding of your intentions.
Both he and his brother were aware of your late-night excursions to the dance studio (that was, after all, how you had first met Moon), and while Sun had never been explicit in his disapproval, Moon had made sure you were exactly aware of his feelings on the matter.
If it was past midnight, it was past your bed-time.
You tighten your grip on your bag as you trot deeper in to the bowels of the parade department. No one will be in any of the studios at this time of night, so you will have your pick of the lot. You make a beeline towards P4-PC2-029, a skip in your step.
You really want to try something new.
As you get further down into the hallways at the bottom of Character 2, the lights take on a fluorescent quality, flooding the walls with tinny yellow light.
There is a scratching noise in the vent above you.
Tap-tap-tap
Your eyes narrow.
Flagrantly ignoring the little noise from the vent (hello Moon) you pick up a jog the rest of the way to the dance studio, dumping your gear on the crash mats before unzipping your hoodie and adding that to the growing pile on the floor.
Hands now free, you can pillage the storage cupboard for some apparatus and your fingers twitch in anticipation. The room is cavernous, with all manner of rigs prepared for any kind of circus stunt a person could deign to dream up; practically nirvana for someone like you.
With a bounce, you trot over to the storage cupboard. The double doors are big and blue and as you open one you make sure push it firmly against the wall, wedging a little slip of paper under the rim to stop it closing on you. The closet has a sensor which automatically turns the lights off when the doors are shut- something that has caught you out many times in the past… and given how late it was you didn’t really want to risk encountering a pissed-off Moon.
You had told Sunny you’d be heading to bed, after all. Yet here you were. At the dance studio at 1am doing stunt work. Probably the exact opposite of in bed.
You pull the cord and the strip-lights flicker to life above you, kicking online with a metallic hrumm. The laminate creaks beneath your feet as you turn. Your eyes rove the stacks of parade equipment, bouncing from shelf to shelf to where you know the aerial acrobatics apparatus is buried at the back. Rolling your shoulders you slink between the bars and boxes and shelves to dislodge the object of your desire: a lyra hoop cut into the shape of a crescent moon. It’s a gaudy, silvery thing, but there is clear method to the swirling metal patterns that decorate its rim; subtle hand-holds and foot-holds and moments of leverage for the discerning acrobat to take advantage of.
You lick your lips.
You love trying new equipment, and you have been making your way through the long list of exotic aerial apparatus that you’ve discovered in this alcove. To you, this place is a treasure trove.
You are forced to duck and bend in order to unwedge the crescent lyra from its place at the back of the shelf. Maneuvering your body to dodge the sharp edges of a pile of stilts you suck in your diaphragm and lean your weight back on your heels, the crescent hoop shifting forward more comfortably into your palms-
Behind you, there is a soft click as the double doors of the closet seal shut.
You curse and the lights slam off automatically.
Almost doubled over underneath the shelving unit you wriggle backwards with a groan. Your hands are wrapped firmly around your quarry as you scramble through the darkness- you refuse to let this whole ordeal be for nothing. Unseen apparatus clatters around you as you reverse back through the trove. Your breath puffs from your nostrils.
With one final tug you drag the ornate lyra out into the narrow cupboard corridor. Your balance slips a little but you right yourself, stumbling as your back meets something hard-
Four cold metal claws grip you by the scruff. There is a pause, a silence only broken by the heavy pounding of your heartbeat- exertion, fear, adrenaline-
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
The words are a guttural growl. He is directly behind you, the static of his voice-box grazing your neck like a kiss.
You swing around to face him, refusing to cringe away. You know that your face is glowing in his infrared vision.
“Moon-” your mouth goes dry.
“-Starliiight,” he sings back at you, and you can hear the grin that rolls across the surface of his static. You swallow.
“Just let me explain-“
“E x p l a i n what? How you liiiied to Sunny again? Or maybe why you think the ruuuules don’t apply to you?” His faceplate spins once, slowly, before slotting back into place with a click. “Go on. I’m waiting.”
“We’ve been through this before Moon- I need to burn off the energy or I can’t sleep I-“
“No castmember should attempt to rig or use a new set of equipment for the first time without at least one other qualified member of staff present.” His eyes narrow, voice flat as he parrots health and safety jargon from the handbook. “Wouldn’t want you to get in to an accident all alooooone down here would we, rulebreaker?”
“I don’t know Moon, would you?” The question hangs for a second and you level your gaze at him, doing your best not to squirm as he towers over you. You let out a breath. “Those are just guidelines anyway, not rules.”
He doesn’t respond, eyes dropping to your arm where he dances his fingers over the flesh of your biceps. You don’t even know whether he’s listening or just ignoring you. Your mouth twists and you can feel the pitch of your voice rising breathily as you clamor to defend yourself-
“I’m not some green college gymnast Moon, this is my livelihood. I know what I’m doing.” Your face screws up a little and you grind out. “Plus. I’m not here on my own am I? You’re here.”
His gaze snaps up to meet yours and his grin seems to stretch.
“Why little Starling,” he coos “if you wanted to give me a private show, all you needed to do was a s k .”
You bite back a retort before recoiling in horror as his eyes drift down to the lyra in your hands. The crescent moon lyra.
“Ohhhh?” You didn’t know it was possible for a robot to sound so viscerally delighted, but here we are. You can hear the fans kick in behind his chassis and something in his chest rumbles in a way that can only described as a purr. “And what is t h i s ?”
You fumble the hoop lamely in your hands.
“You know what it is Moon, stop being a-“
You are cut off as the jester snatches the hoop from you with one hand, the other reaching to scoop you against his front like an infant. Your vision becomes a blur of red and black as he clambers back through the cupboard and out into the dance studio whilst you cling to him for dear life.
“Moon!” You grunt as he deposits you in a neat heap next to your discarded hoodie and duffel bag. “What are you doing?”
Moon doesn’t answer you- skittering away with your lyra hoop to one of the metal wall mounts that dominate the left hand side of the room.
The lights of the dance studio are dim- much dimmer than you left them before your trip to the cupboard and you wonder briefly when and how Moon managed to adjust them without you noticing. But thoughts like that are as futile as the answer is simple: Moon is a sneaky little shit.
“Moon?” You repeat, voice a little more subdued this time. His faceplate swivels backwards to grin at you. “What are you doing?”
“Spotting you.”
“Spotting me-“
Your voice jutters to life from behind his faceplate: “Plus. I’m not here on my own am I? You’re here.” The recording is crisp and uncanny and you swallow a grimace- (is that really what you sound like? Ugh).
“I thought you wanted me to go to bed?” You frown at him- not to look a gift jester in the mouth but this was awfully suspicious.
“Changed my mind.” He says flatly, shrugging as he unreels the rope to attach it to the swivel and carabiners.
“…Okay.” You lick your lips, kicking off your shoes to stretch the arches of your feet.
Moon pays your response no mind, fully engrossed in the mechanism in-front of him. You watch in fascination as he meticulously checks each element of the double pulley system, this way and that, before dismantling the carabiners to re-attach the whole hoop to a paw-plate. You observe as he runs his tests again- checking the safety of the rig with all the concentration of a consummate professional. With a final tug of the hoop he releases it into the air.
“All clear, inspector?” You jab from your place on the crash mat.
His faceplate spins with a high-whine before slowing as he tuts at you sardonically. “Safety first.”
You scoff. “You didn’t seem so concerned about my safety when you tried to throw me off the top of the parade like we were in the fucking lion king-”
“Language.” He interrupts you, voice loud and slow as if talking to a child. “If you fell, Sunny would be saaaad.”
“But not you, huh Moon?” You smile wryly. “You know, if I die then no-one will be around to bring you the next volume of Berserk, just saying.”
His eyes narrow. “I have the internet.”
“I’m sorry.” You say solemnly- and then, after a beat: “…But you know pirating is against the law right?”
He makes a high little sound- somewhere between an choke and a snort, but you keep going.
“And wouldn’t that make you-”
“Starlight.”
“-Some kind of-”
“Don’t you daaare.”
“-I don’t know-”
“B r a t .”
“-Rulebreaker?”
You finish with a smug smile and his faceplate spins three times in quick succession.
“I will drop you.” He snarls and you pout at him wanly.
“But Sunny would be saaad remember?”
“Sunny can go ȇ̵͇̗a̴̢̙̝͐̀̽̇t̶̬͚̣̂̂̎̚ ̴̛̳̍͊̽͂͑͂͊͗̕̕͝͝a̶̠̪̥̥̲̬̥̱͔̥̼̿̔̿̑̾̌͂̔̇͋͆͂̓͝Ḏ̷̡̪̤̻͍̮̱̱̞̟̯̬͕̺͔̦̩͈̻̙̣̔̔̉͐̓͑͒́̓̆̈́̕Ï̷̢̙̳̼͉̩͙̞͇̥̆͒͑̑͐̈́͒̌͒̀̌̏̐́̈̃̀̌͐͐̋̋́̓͌̚͘͘͝C̷̡̭̹̯̪̲̜̞̙͕͔̩̳̫̗̘͈̰͙̫̭̈Ķ̸̛̰̥͈͇͎̣̹̯̱̀̆̍̂̊̀̀͠"
A laugh rips out of you then and you flash him a grin. The one he returns you is positively feral.
“Sorry Moon,” you lick your lips “I guess you’ll just have to keep me in the land of the living until you find another way to get your manga.”
“Blackmail. Extooortion.” He whines flatly.
“Yeah, yeah. Here-“ you laugh and throw him your phone, “seeing as you’re being so cooperative I’ll even let you choose the music.”
He catches it with something of a surprised, almost blank expression. After a second he looks down- dark gaze wincing against the glare of the little screen- he lifts his faceplate up to stare at you.
“Password?” He says blandly.
“Gimme a break Moon I know you’ve had that thing cracked for weeks.”
He doesn’t even have the decency to look abashed at being caught out. Shrugging, he returns his gaze to the little phone, the silicone padding of his long fingers strangely silent as he taps and tinkers with the screen. You turn away to face the crescent Lyra, rolling your shoulders into a long stretch that you chase down your legs to your toes. You jump lightly on the spot, foot to foot and shake out your hands. Your blood is pumping.
Somewhere behind you you hear the speakers buzz to life, and you brace yourself for whatever god-awful media Moon is about to inflict on you. You knew what you were signing up for when you gave him control over your spotify. Come on dude, lets hear the damage.
You are momentarily taken aback as the sound of soft synthwave floods the hall. There is a traitorous flutter twinge in your chest. You ignore it.
Moon was probably just having a joke at your expense. Probably.
Your mouth twitches and you stride forward to grip the lyra, pivoting yourself and the hoop on tips of your toes- your back falling into an elegant arch. You work the crescent into a spin as you mount, tilting your head back at Moon to mouth the word ‘up’. You feel the rope begin to rise.
I see you, you see me How pleasant, this feeling-
As the vocals of the song kick in you lean back into the curve of the crescent- feet splayed to rest against the sharp points of the curve, one arm dangling to brush the air below the hoop. The Man in the Moon - A basic move but your lip curls in private amusement as you recline against the lyra.
The moment, you hold me I missed you, I’m sorry-
You drop a leg down, body loose and heavy as you hold the hoop in a Cradle before collapsing into an Open Delilah- one arm and leg hooked around the bottom of the crescent as the rest of you dangles, arching towards the floor. You sweep your free hand under the calf of your free leg and stretch into a split as you hang, your whole body singing from the strain.
I’ve given, what I have I showed you, I’m growing-
You’ve lost track of Moon and your eyes search out his face as you twirl. There- a pale shadow against the wall, his red gaze thin and dark. You lift yourself out of the splits into a Candlestick- body taught and straight and almost vertical towards the floor as you straddle the crescent with crossed thighs.
The ashes, fall slowly As your voice, consoles me
Taking a breath to steady yourself you unfold a single leg down behind your head to splay your body into dramatic a Candlestick split. You sigh with satisfaction as you hang. Eyes slipping closed. Below you, the chorus crashes through the empty room with an echo.
As the hours pass, I will let you know That I need to ask, before I’m alone How it feels to rest, on your patient lips To eternal bliss, I’m so glad to know-
From the shadows by the wall he watches you. The lights of his eyes smear a trail as you spin, streaming red lines that trace through the air like the back-lights of a car in a storm. Something beautiful, in its own way.
You wind yourself out of the pose, arms tensing to lift yourself back into the embrace of the crescent lyra; your legs an artful languid twist of flesh and metal. You fold your self into a beauty roll, the world spinning around you as you twist inside the crescent, body rolling like a wave that crests from pose to split to pose to hang- this is what you were best at- the fluidity- the dizzying loops that left the watcher wondering where your gravity ended and the lyra began. Spins within spins. Loops within loops. Mermaid. Roll. Gazelle. Split. Roll. Amazon. Roll. High Angel. Roll-
We’re swaying to drum beats In motion, I’m feeling My patience, controlling The question I won’t speak-
You grin into the darkness as your body contorts around the crescent to put all your weight on the top of the lyra. There you hold yourself, your body perfectly vertical, blood rushing gloriously to your face as your breathing slows, deep and heavy.
We’re leaving, we’re talking You’re closer, it’s calming-
As you hang upside down you dare a glance beneath you to where Moon stands beside the crash mat- except he’s so much closer now. Close and silent and still in that way that only an animatronic can be. You flutter yourself into a single leg Scarab as you force the hoop away from your body at a dramatic angle, your gaze never leaving his face.
It’s then that you notice his eyes. The sclera of his visors are that familiar vantablack, only… his pupils are blue. Little lavender blue rings that shiver as they follow you. Locked on you.
You almost fall, your grip on the hoop slipping ever so slightly. You were so used to the red on black and black on red that cycled with his moods that it was jarring to see something so different. His gaze catches yours like a gravity well, and just like that you are caught in the orbit of his eyes. Your heart burns beneath your ribs.
To eternal bliss, I’m so glad to know-
You stay like that, eyes locked together in a trap- seconds pass with only the quivering pain in your muscles to mark the time. Eventually your mortal body is forced to move.
Deftly you uncoil your body until your legs are back beneath you. You finally tear your eyes from Moon as you turn to lay belly down across the crescent, relaxing into a reverse Mermaid that lets you put most of the weight on your hips, rather than your aching arms. The lyra spins languidly, it’s momentum slowing. You close your eyes.
The night will hold us close, and the stars will guide us home-
When you open them, Moon is in-front you. At this height his face is level with yours and he reaches a long arm out to steady the lyra to a stop.
“What are you doing?” You ask.
He tilts his faceplate to one side.
“Spotting you.” His voice is low and you shudder as his fingers ghost along the arch of your back.
I’ve been waiting for this moment, we’re finally alone-
“I’m not done yet.” The words tumble from your mouth like wadded cotton balls; soft, insubstantial. He watches you with lavender eye-lights.
“You’re fatigued.” He says simply- smile parting, affectionate.
You shift your grip on the Lyra.
I turn to ask the question, so anxious, my thoughts-
“Your eyes-” you whisper but the moment the words touch your lips, the pinpricks of his pupils flicker a familiar, violent red. You swallow.
“S t a r l i g h t .” He unfolds a palm around your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear with one lingering finger. Your hands start to shake. “Time to rest. Time to sleep.”
Your lips were soft like winter, in your passion, I was lost-
You lean into the cold metal of his wrist, just a little- but he withdraws. Your heart drops instantly at the rejection before stuttering as he hooks both hands around your waist- and in one fluid motion pulls you down from the lyra and into his arms.
He holds you there, flush against his chest and you slowly wrap your arms around his neck, your feet hanging in the air.
“Moon- what?” You stutter, face craning up to meet his eyes.
“…Jealous.” He says, eyes sliding back behind you to the glittering crescent moon lyra
“I’m… sorry?” Your voice climbs in confusion and his grin widens, teeth sharp- grip tightening around the flesh of your back.
“Apology accepted.”
Your eyes narrow and you open your mouth to protest but you are stopped short- a single sharp finger pressed against your lips.
“Shh-” He whispers, eyes all black and red and lavender. “Don’t ruin it.”
“Ruin what?” You frown.
He grins. “T h i s .”
And then he kisses you.
His whole body leans into you- face tilted to press cool silicon to your burning mouth. It is a simple thing, all soft and heavy at the same time. A pure, even pressure.
You grip the fabric of his cap with unsteady hands.
“Oh.” You mouth the sound softly into the corner of his smile and he buries his faceplate into your cheek.
Soft white static catches as he says- “…I would, too.”
You furrow your brow and his fingers reach up to trace the crescents of light that his eyes cast across your face. “I would be sad if you fell. I don’t like to think about… things that could hurt you.”
A breathless sigh leaves you, and your eyes soften; a bewildered smile creeping into the corners of your mouth.
“…Does that mean no more lion king?”
The look he gives you is scathing. “I will still drop you.”
“But then you and Sunny would be sad.” You flash him your teeth and his grin stretches.
“Better be on you best behaviour then, Staaaaarlight.”
Oh dear, you were doomed.
167 notes · View notes
manasurge · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
OKAY SO I got the amazing little 3D print I ordered in today, and it came with TWO BONUS CAITHES!!!!! TWO BONUS CAITHES!!! TWO (2) OF THEM!!!! That was literally like.. the nicest and most wonderful surprise ever!!<3<3 (especially for me omg...). I'm keeping one out on display and the other one is kept in a protective bubble wrap prison in case anything unthinkable should happen to the other one (these are very delicate! and they're SO DETAILED. I love them!!!) Gonna put the original purchase under the "read more" for Gw2 SoTo spoiler reasons
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
PEITHA HAS COME HOME!!!! SHE LOOKS SO GOOD!!!! I love her sword too omg... 3D printing was like, perfectly made for detailed game figures I swear. These are so good, and they arrived in such carefully cushioned packaging bc they are fairly delicate (but Peitha is surprisingly hardy for a little figure!). I also adore the action pose too! I love her so much! ;v; <3 My wife came home and brought my other wife with her!! (twice!). Now all I need is for the bigger official figure to arrive sometime next year, and the whole gang will be here uwu. Also bonus Lady Maria and an extra bonus wife group pic!
35 notes · View notes