#little-celestials | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hanasnx · 7 months

Note

(if this makes u uncomfy in any way plz ignore)

idk if mj exists in SW ‘verse, but like—sex with ani while ur both high as kite?? BIG YES (from me at least).

esp cause!! it would probably heighten ani’s force sensitivity?? like he’s feeling high and tingling and extra touch sensitive and all of a sudden you’re touching him and he’s getting a rush of emotions, floating, hungry, hot, i love you i want you.

and you. you look like heaven, like every sin he’s ever indulged in, all flushed and glowy and smiley, touching him with a fluttery touch.

ani needs you when he’s high cause there’s something almost spiritual, almost heaven scent and hell touched, about the rush of you he gets in every way.

as a former pothead i think i've gotta set some records straight. long post about marijuana + fucking + anakin under the cut <3

warnings: marijuana, negative + positive for anakin experience with marjuana

when i was smoking enough for a circle and then playing whatever videogame was in my ps for 20 hours a day, i can say that it did nothing but make me hungry, my attention span elongated, and my anxiety non-existent. i wasn't interested in fucking, i was mostly into wasting away while naked. it didn't do much (that i can remember) for my sense of touch.

i do know that when i did fuck while high, it wasn't a remarkable experience because i don't remember any of it. nor did it make me horny or add to the sensation. those kinds of effects were from an entirely different drug that i did that i dont feel like putting the trigger warnings for so i wont talk about it

pot is definitely good for mellowing out, chilling, and fucking really casual. and i mean really casual. that's my experience with it anyway i have no idea if its diff for other ppl, im sure ppl who arent demisexual and have higher sex drives than me can say different who knows.

for anakin, i can see him smoking and fucking. definitely. in very specific circumstances. let me lay those out for you:

he smokes very occasionally for spirituality reasons. he does it respectfully, with great care. a big stickler about it. he wants to emphasize to himself it's not for recreational or social reasons. the jedi discourage drugs that cloud your judgment. marijuana is frowned upon to rely on for things like calming yourself or meditating because you should be able to do that alone. however, it's not frowned upon to partake in it every once in a while. it's all about new experiences and as long as you treat it with respect, it's alright. anakin treats it with the utmost respect.

he does not care to be under the influence of something. being high or drunk is a very rare form for him indeed. he gets very uncomfortable when on something, and especially uncomfortable being reliant on something, so when he is smoking he does it alone most of the time. he does not like being disillusioned, and he certainly does not like the idea of someone's no-nonsense idea of him being shattered.

he's led a ceremony with younger people of the order. taught them how to partake, how to roll, how to use it mindfully. and if someone is having a negative first experience, they had too much or it does not agree with them and it gets into their heads, he knows how to calm them.

when he smokes with you, it might be a rare moment of rebellion. a "i'm an adult, i can smoke a little weed." moment. and even with that notion, his darkness may catch up to him. the guilt of using it under different circumstances than usual may put him in a bad place, memories he pushes back into the reaches of his mind creep up. his past with tatooine, the tusken massacre, etc. he gets paranoid, those doubts you couldn't love a monster like him get the better of him. it gets in his way. and you're there to lead him back to the present. like op said, "you look like heaven" he'd hone in on you. tunnel vision.

anakin's way of calming himself is often self pleasure. and so since youre here, and willing and able, he might use you to guide him back to the present in a more physical way. he can't think if he's inside you, all he can do is chase his orgasm. he's tingly, he's got those nerves in the pit of his stomach, he's trying to ground himself using you and at the same time fuck you out of this world. however, with marijuana you're both slowed, and clumsy. the love-making wouldn't be coherent, or poised, but it'd be enjoyable. less concerned about what you must look like, and more cuddly. more shallow thrusts, and humping ruts, and sloppy kisses and no dialogue.

97 notes · View notes

celestialmoonss · 2 months

Text

princess celestia + her younger design :)

i love the idea that using the elements changed her hair into something closer to an aurora. i know a lot of people like to make her more sun based but i think they’re forgetting that when luna was sent away she would’ve been responsible for EVERYTHING. she is literally light itself . so i love her hair as is :)

#mlp #my little pony #digital art #mlp fan art #my little pony fanart #mlp redesign #my little pony redesign #celestial redesigns #princess celestia #art

3K notes · View notes

puppetmaster13u · 19 days

Text

Prompt 274

You know what is fun? Baby Ghost Jason. You know what could be even more fun? Ghosts are Dragons.

Jason? Aware of none of this.

He was on comms, y’know listening and rolling his eyes at Dickwing, who used his real name, really Dick, he mocks. It’s just a stakeout, nothing new there, honestly boring when he could be blowing something up instead. It should have just been a stakeout.

Yet there’s something suddenly there, something behind him. Something that causes his hair to stand on end and his comms to spark into static like some sort of horror movie. Something, something with clawed hands with corpse-pale skin tipped in black, stained or dead or something else, tilting his head up and up and up as he’s frozen.

“A child, out here? Alone?” a voice crackles, hisses, hums, and purrs, somehow all at once, unnatural in its tone. He can’t move, he needs to move, he has to move, but it’s like the space around him has gone cold and dead, like he’s stuck in the Pits once more as claws hold his head and his vision blurs. “Sleep, child. Rest- we’ll be home soon.”

#DCxDP #DPxDC #Prompts #Ghosts are Dragons #Halfa Jason #Not Ghost King Danny #Ancient of Space Danny #Jason: If I just got kidnapped by fae because Dick said my name I’m going to riot #Halfas have human-ish forms #Danny has four arms like Pandora & floating horns like Frostbite & same scale patterns as Clockwork #He’s cooing over the little Star Core Jason #Jordan & Ellie: Oh a new sibling? You give us sibling to tease? Yessss gooood #Pariah looking down at this scrap of a teen now forced into dragon form for his health: Ah yes another grandson #Jason has no clue what’s going on he’s very overwhelmed right now #Danny was not the one to nab Jason but it’s his child now look how cute #sun core dan #moon core ellie #space core danny #star core jason #a lil celestial body flock of dragons <3 #Jason is like a chonky amphiptere-esque dragon #long serpentine with feathered wings but also has legs #six chubby catterpillar-esque ones and long curved talons

731 notes · View notes

eyenaku · 1 year

Text

CELESTIAL WARDS SERIES

4 piece set consisting of Dusk Warden, Dawn Warden, Sun Ward, and Moon Ward.

Hand-sculpted ceramics (Dawn and Sun being mason-stained porcelain + Dusk and Moon being earthenware) with underglaze, slip, and luster accents (as well as minor post-fire additions). Click on their names to go to their individual posts for more details!

4K notes · View notes

mlpoutofcontext · 9 months

Text

#mlp #my little pony #mlp g4 #mlp fim #my little pony friendship is magic #season 7 #Celestial Advice #Twilight Sparkle

2K notes · View notes

solivagants · 8 months

Text

be clearly aware of the stars and infinity on high.

then life seems almost enchanted after all.

—vincent van gogh

1K notes · View notes

proxycrit · 3 months

Text

Part 1 / Part 2

Emmet remembers when he and Ingo first brought Elesa to explore Celestial Tower, back when they were fourteen and thought they were immortal.

“Allegedly, the bell chime will bring ghosts home”, ingo had told emmet with the pompous knowing energy of a child who read way too much brochures. “It’s culturally significant! We must ring it.”

“Hmmm,” emmet had responded suspiciously. “Brother. The bell is at the top of the tower.” The implication stands: Ingo, there are thirty flights of stairs between here and the top, and no elevator to speak of.

Don’t be a coward, Litwick had told Emmet with the blaise tone of somebody who’s going to be piggy backing off of somebody else. Go ring the bell. Tynamo, sensing a litten fight, floated towards a loitering blitzle.

Ingo turns his lilipup eyes on Elesa, who’s squinting at the carved stone faces of the front door.

“Elesa? What do you think?”

Elesa thinks. She shrugs. “We already made our way here,” she said in accented galarian. “Might as well make it the rest of the way. Ganbatte!”

Emmet sighs. “This is a mistake,” he tells the two in exhaustive patience, but lets himself be dragged into the building.

Last time the twins were here, Ingo caught litwick— but not before she managed to nab a good chunk of Emmet’s soul. It’s not terrible; he felt fatigued for a week and bounced back pretty quickly, but it was the principle of the whole situation— celestial tower’s a pain in the ass and Emmet will stand by that until the day he dies.

Like right now.

The map isn’t working. Emmet checked it once. He’s checked it twice. He’s taken out his pen and written on it, which he would usually never do but desperate times call for desperate measures. The compass he brought spins useless circles. It’s like chargestone cave up here, but worse because instead if electric pokemon it’s all ghosts.

“We’re lost, yyup yup!” He announced to the crew. “I vote we eat Ingo first.”

“I love you too,” Ingo told Emmet placidly. “But we all know between the two of us, you’re the tastier one.” Litwick gives Emmet a thumbs up. Emmet gasps in mock affront.

“Elesa, help!”

Elesa gives the two of them a wary look. It took two floors for her to realize this is not just a weird temple with strange rocks, but a full out graveyard. She’s not very happy about that development.

“Don’t drag me into this,” she tells them. “Teme wa urusaii.”

“I will take that as a compliment,” Ingo reports back.

Emmet, who’s cheerfully struggles with Galarian on a good day, simply gives her a thumbs up.

The three painstakingly crawl their way up. And up. If all else fails, Emmet told himself, at least they can orient themselves towards high ground.

“We’re like pidoves,” Ingo gasps. He has fallen behind them on the stairs, with Emmet taking the lead through sheer spite despite his legs going numb on floor twenty two. “We, hah, we are attracted by the magnet of the bell, like, like probopass-“

“I am emmet! You are not making, sense!” Emmet called back. Elesa, who’s stuck between them and looking two steps from perpetual collapse, giggles.

“No, no hear me out, Ingo wheezes. “What if the bell’s a magnetic pole? And that’s why your compass doesn’t wo, woo, hahh, work.”

Emmet stops to rest, just because Ingo is using precious breathing air to infodump. Elesa gratefully slumps against the railing. Tynamo and litwick, lazy in their still small size, have settled on a weary blitzle and look very smug doing so. (Emmet is not jealous, he tells himself. Emmet is also lying.)

“The bell’s important,” Ingo had repeated.

“Okay,” Elesa responds. “If it’s important to you, then it’s important to us.”

And Emmet finds that he agrees with Elesa. Partially because they crawled up twenty fucking three flights of stairs, but also because Ingo thinks this is important, so it is.

And here’s the thing—

— emmet doesn’t remember much after that.

The rest of that trip was a blur of exhausted groaning and burning legs, and by the time the trio managed to breach floor thirty, people’s brains have all but dribbled out their ears. Emmet remembers being disgustingly sweaty. He remembers blitzle almost tripping to death and litwick’s swearing. He remembers tynamo sticking to his neck like a damp towel. He remembers Ingo’s excited sneasel smile, and the way the sunset bounced off of Elesa’s hair.

He remembers the brassy ring of the Celestial bell. It sounded like victory.

But it was Elesa’s cackle turned scream as Ingo swiped cold hands down her neck that sounded like home.

—-

So when the conductor at thirty one, lost and disoriented in the Impossible Place, heard the sound of a familiar bell, ringing over and over and over-

-the sound of laughter-

-EMMET! Elesa cried-

-like a homing pidove, the conductor, thinks nonsensically as something in him perks up.

(Emmet had always liked winning, more than anything else, and the sound of victory calls him home.)

—

Elesa catches lightning in a bottle. Elesa, arms outstretched, finds purchase in her brother, and does not let go.

Emmet is so, so cold, Elesa thinks as the wind steals air from her lungs. (That’s okay. She’s already breathless from a terrible business called hope.)

Emmet stares back. His hands flap against Elesa’s jacket. Elesa desperately drinks in his wan face and too wide eyes and his frost bitten lips. In a tiny, meek voice, almost lost to the wind, he asks:

“Are you real?”

Elesa lets out an ugly sob. Her tears whip away in the wind as they fall. Emmet’s frightened countenance turns immediately to alarm. His shaky grasp becomes a solid grip as they spin through the air, cushioned by chandelure’s psychic.

“I think so??” Elesa warbles. She sees Emmet’s eyes dart to her mouth. He’s reading mirroring her, she realizes with giddy delight— it’s such an Emmet thing to do, to read lips, and-

“I am Emmet,” Emmet breathes. His eyes have started to water. “Yyou are Elesa- Oh dragons, Elesa!?“

Elesa reaches. Hesitates.

Emmet grabs elesa by the lapels and crushes her tight against him. Elesa holds on, and the grief and relief in her accumulates into a wet sopping mess. She’s ruining his jacket, she mourns, but its okay because he’s dripping all over hers.

She can’t hear what he’s saying into her shoulder, can’t read what he says, but everything’s okay because every part of her is chiming

You came back

You’re here

I’m not alone anymore.

Around them, the air distorts as Chandelure’s psychic wavers, flutters, and solidifies. Gravity reverses its call as they settle gently on the ground, dust billowing in all directions.

The ghost pokemon drops next to them, shaking so hard the musical clang of glass makes Elesa flinch.

You fucks, Chandelure gasps. DON’T GO LEAPING OFF BUILDINGS, I AM NOT YOUR EMERGENCY PARACHUTE.

“I’m sorry,” Elesa gasps, still giddy from the adrenaline.

AND YOU! Chandelure howls, whirling on Emmet, who’s still staring at the ghost with huge eyes. He’s gripping on to solid ground with the energy of a man who realized he could have been a splat on the ground.

YOU LEFT!

Emmet winces.

You- You left us, you left me-

Ah, ah no, Elesa thinks as golden globules of light shed from Chandelure. This is what a ghost looks like crying.

Emmet holds out his arms. Chandelure drifts into his embrace, and shakes, and shakes, and shakes.

You left me, the ghost pokemon whispers. How dare you. How could you.

“I didn’t mean to,” Emmet whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Stop doing this to me, Chandelure demands. Golden brine joins human tears, like drops of sun trapped in wet glass. Stop going where I can not follow.

And Emmet holds his tongue, because he knows he can not promise staying. Not while Ingo and Eelektross are still in Hisui.

(In the back of Emmet’s hurt and shattered mind is a spark. Synapses connect. The cold breach of the Distortion does nothing to drown out the sudden flare of hope in Emmet’s chest, so great he can not breathe, so strong he can not feel, because there’s a path. A difficult, painful path through the Space that Can Not Be, but a path all the same.)

“Elesa, Chandelure-“ Emmet’s voice breaks. He wants to tell them about Eelektross. He wants to tell them about the terrible past that is Hisui. He wants to explain how the last five months were filled with horror and wonder and fear and hope.

Hope, he thinks. So he says this:

“I know how to get Ingo home.”

NOTES:

AAAAAND THAT’S ALL FOR THIS DRABBLE. ITS OUT NOW. I CAN FINALLY GO BACK TO POSTING HAPPY SHENANIGANS! (Now you know the shape of their story.)

Thanks for reading this monster of a post!