caeruleis

[caeruleis]

But endurance had always been my virtue and I kept on.

Madeline Miller, Circe (via luthienne)

#| ☩ At the end of the world ; will it be you and me again ☩ (Musings) | #| ☩ Nothing is more fleeting and fragile than the sun at sunset ☩ (Gran: Musings) | #| ☩ For all of the bruises I've caused and the tears ☩ (Vira: Musings) | #{ One day I will be active on here again } #{ Gran lives rent free in my brain but I need to see if I can manage Lucifer first hfjshfjlas }

[caeruleis]

#| ☩ At the end of the world ; will it be you and me again ☩ (Musings) | #| ☩ Nothing is more fleeting and fragile than the sun at sunset ☩ (Gran: Musings) | #{ this screams Gran fhdsgfjdfsa }

[caeruleis]

– The traveler –

I had to take a break from drawing and social media but I’m back now!

And here’s a Cassius. I almost forgot to put him on tumblr because my drawings are too big and the site doesn’t accept them.. and usually I’m too lazy to shrink them right away, and I forget :’D

#| ☩ And time wept for what it held in its dying hands ☩ (Images) | #| ☩ i’ll color me blue; just like the sky that reminds me of you ☩ (cassius: images) | #{ And now that I have been productive I shall vanish into the void once more like the gremlin I am hfjshdgfils }

[caeruleis]

shiningstages​:

     The bitter cold of this place was unlike anything Isaac had ever witnessed. He had lived in the sanctuary of his lab for so long, surrounded by the cold exteriors of metal and machinery that couldn’t offer too much heat in the harsher parts of winter. But this was a barren wasteland absolute covered in snow. He could imagine that, given the right circumstances in a person, they could mistaken this place as their soul getting gripped by the clouds, had it not been for the burned and broken parts of whatever civilization remained here. At one time it could’ve probably mirrored the Silverwind Stretch with what little resources the people and animals had here to survive, but knowing what had struck this place, it was unlikely anything could ever even survive a day here.

     Eustace included. Isaac was sure, deep down, that the most recent events caused some sort of closure for him, and he had to complete it by opening up just a tad bit more with the people he held so dear.

     Which was also why Isaac felt like a complete outsider, lurking in the snow just trying to bury himself in the spare jacket he borrowed from the captain. He knew he wasn’t dear to anybody in the crew - though he was at least trying to finally get close to his sister, and perhaps Cassius, though the latter, if he thought too hard on it, would feel like he was just trying to make up for all his terrible mistakes on the moon. But he also did truly want to make his relationships with people at least a little better; learn to communicate better and give more meaning back into his life. And yet with Eustace he could just feel in his aching bones that that would be such an uphill battle, and he can wholeheartedly accept the probable fact that they will never be anywhere near as close as that man was with the captain.

     Even with all of that, however, the man still knew when someone looked pained. His stone-cold expression couldn’t hide the grip on his cloth, or how distant his stare could look, even at those three frolicking in the deep snow. And so Isaac at least wanted to try and at least be there. It was enough for him to at least be a body to speak to, even if they never spoke again after.

     Though his response, while his tired tone makes his chest ache in empathy and relatability, is also like a thundering shot straight to his heart with the words chosen, even if that wasn’t Eustace’s intent at all. “N-No, comrade, that’s not; not at all -” he tries to backpedal so hard it actually does hurt a little, and as if the constant gust of wind gets a tad stronger just to make him whimper at the shiver that rips his spine, shutting him up. He can’t even feel the heat on his face from his embarrassed blush, but like it would matter since Eustace didn’t glance at him for too long. Gaze going ever more distant, and his eyes don’t dare to track, feeling like he wasn’t really looking at anything at all. Maybe just onto the past, or onto how this conversation could go, but nothing in the physical here-and-now. And with Eustace’s words he doesn’t raise his gaze to the nothingness, knowing that this was probably all there was to see in his meaning. “…I see.” is the only thing he can think of in response. It’s a moment later - probably too long of one, in his mind - that he finally sits down like he had previously offered. Next to Eustace, but making sure not to be too close, even though the heat radiating from Flamek even touches him here and his body shivers as a response, desperate for that warmth. But no, if Eustace didn’t want to talk, then they would indeed just sit, both now staring out at frosty wilderness, Isaac's own hands clasped together with thumbs fidgeting with each other.

   The cold nips at the tips of his ears, and eats at the layers shielding his torn and tattered body from the world at large. When he breathes, clouds of hot air form in front of his chapped lips, but vanish the instant the wind claims every last drop of heat they produce. When he swallows, he can still taste copper on his tongue from the cracks in his skin. Beyond the bantering crew members, and charred trees, he can make out the darkened remains of the forest that had once sheltered this tiny village. These sensations aren't new to him, nor has he, despite the years that have slipped through his grasp, ever forgotten them. If he were to close his eyes, he might have been able to hear the calls of lonely birds, the plip-plop of rabbits as they bounced through the snow, and the howl of the first friend he ever had as it cut through the night like a sharp knife. He might even be able to imagine the stern face of his sister as she scolded him for being out too late, or smell the aroma of a freshly roasted duck wafting out from the kitchen because his mother had delayed starting until she was certain he would be home to eat it. But those sounds and imagines, now, only existed in his memories. As did everything else. There's not a single life left here. Not even a bird or a sapling. Everything is gone. Everyone is dead. Everyone but him.

   The joyful calls of the crew and the sound of Isaac's voice beside him don't drown out the ringing in his ears, nor can they replicate the warmth this desolate land once held. But he's not so heartless -- not these days, it seems, that he doesn't recognize Isaac's attempts to bridge the gap between them; to reach out, and offer him comfort in a time he believes he might be in need of it. The gesture itself is almost enough to make his stoic expression crack in amusement. It might not have been the other's attempt, but he still can't shake the feeling that he's gone soft since meeting the crew. And, for now, he can't tell if that change is for the better or worst. At the moment, it simply means he'll tolerate Isaac's presence when he might not have been willing to do so before. It's not as if the other doesn't have his fair share of burdens to carry.

   "You look unwell," he says in a gruff voice without even turning to face Isaac; dismissing the other's stammered remark to his words. He doesn't need to be facing the other to have heard the dread and regret in his voice when he tried to rectify the situation, and it's not important enough to Eustace to bother pursing that line of conversation. It; however, takes even less effort to notice how terribly cold Isaac is. He can't claim he's surprised. The temperatures in this town have always been dreadfully cold, and without buildings or towering trees to shelter them from the icy winds, they're at nature's mercy. And nature is rarely ever kind. He suspects many of the members of the crew have never stepped foot in such conditions. "Nature is unkind to those unfamiliar with this land." It almost still seems as if he's speaking into the air -- his gaze fixed on a point that no longer exists; on a place he can no longer reach, and on a friend he can no longer see.

    Yet, despite the frigid winds and persistent chill, Isaac still chooses to sit down beside him despite it serving no benefit to him. If anything, doing so will prove to be detrimental to him. At this rate, the other is more likely to catch a terrible cold than accomplish what Eustace believes he set out to do in the first place. The thought forces a sigh past his throat, and he can feel the tug of his lips as they pull upwards into a faint smirk. The Captain truly does seem to attract like-minded people more often than not -- they've formed a crew of people who seem to care too much about others for their own well-being.

    With a shrug of his shoulders, his jacket comes loose from his broad shoulders. "You'll catch your death out here." His voice doesn't sound as harsh or distant as it had been a moment ago, and he turns to face Isaac -- the distant, glossy look in his eyes seems to have lessened considerably. It seems he can't allow himself to be devoured by ghosts when the crew is ever in need of his assistance. Effortlessly, he tosses his jacket unceremoniously over Isaac's head. Hesitating for a moment, he lifts his hand up before ruffling Isaac's already messy hair where his jacket covers the other's scalp. And he's grateful for it as the thick fabric hides his eyes, and shelters the small smile that paints Eustace's slips when he recalls the sheer number of times his older sister had done the exact same thing to him whenever he would come home from playing with his friend in the forest; shivering and with teeth chattering yet still insisting on helping.  

#shiningstages #| ☩ And the blood ; it pours from our hands now ☩ (Eustace: Verse: Default) | #| ☩ And if my hand could block the sun ; would we ever wake again ☩ (Eustace: IC) | #{ Slowly I reply to things!!! } #{ Thank you again for your patience I owe you so much and I love all of our threads! } #{ So have Eustace being nice! Also vaguely concerned Isaac is going to freeze to death fghjdghjks }

[caeruleis]

cxffexngel​:

{ @caeruleis​ - Violence felt necessary, Sandy has been allowed peace for too long!!!! } Slowly - very slowly, Gran attempts to sneak up behind the Supreme Primarch armed with nothing but terrible ideas and a bucket ice of he promptly attempts to shove into the other’s armor the second he’s within range. In the same breath, he hurls the bucket aside, and proceeds to run for his miserable life.

         Danger has loomed for quite sometime now, but the summer’s glare and the day’s warmth couldn’t go ignored anymore, not for the stubborn archangel that even now falls reluctant to change into the more proper garments to chase off how sweat collected on his skin, and permeated the undershirt below ebony armor to feel unbearable and sticky. The ich to go and change is there, but also is hoping a fateful breeze to give the archangel maybe a breath before finally moving from the edges of the airship and scramble to the wardrobes. Memories of two individuals, especially gran and Lyria surging forth from that one time in the past they had to basically drag him out the armor to try something loose - and a gentle smile dances at the memory curving sharp lined lips into a crocked grin. It was only a matter of time. Either it was willingly or to be dragged down the clothes Sandalphon even now looks quizzically at because of their revealing manner to happen, and waiting would surely not make the consequences any better. Yet none of it was needed, the very one who sends the archangel’s senses haywire make muscles tense, having all the energy to turn around and ask what is it what the world’s Singularity wants now — yet none of the mental imagery he makes up has a chance to happen, the tug on his hood forcing his frame to lean awkwardly back and then comes the soaking cold surging under his armor.

          It’s somehow a harsh, breathless curse permeated against a hiss, and a gasp. Yet another one of the most inhuman noises Sandalphon has ever made to be recorded into history as the taller primarch falls on his knees and hands fly to try and find as quickly as clumsy, frostbitten limbs would attempt finding the clasps that keep the ebony armor of his chest in place in naught as shivers quake his body and all he can focus on are the icecubes digging against the fabric doing little to protect his scarred body on the icy assault as they melt against him. Little options left but call forth his power to send away armor back to his room and let the remnants of half melted ice cubes unceremoniously falling in silent clicks against wood that gladly absorbs their damp puddles that follows. Petty ire flares ablaze with a hunger for revenge, and so on light and heat gathers against the archangel’s back, particles waiting no one to for, the feathery form of wings manifesting unfolded as all of their might are for the skies to witness. Milky with the call of the flames, and a peaceful sky blue with the frost of the very same waters of the world at their tips, each wing charged with that very same desire and thirst of violence against who has dared bother the supreme primarch - the fire magic enough to evaporate in a cloud of steam remnants of what moisture had clung on dark thin clothes, and lips finally part baring sharpened canines in a snarl.

         “ Captain… You are a dead man. ” The growl reverberates as it rumbles from the depths of his lungs, with a single beat of both wings his silhouette against the meager cast of the sun is sent forward where he knows, and senses, the soon to be hunted young man had run to. Say your prayers now, Singularity.

    Gran feels a distinct burning sensation in his throat as hoarse, choked laughter vibrates uncontrollably within his chest at the utterly absurd noise Sandalphon makes when the ice manages to slip into his armor, and nip at the layer of fabric between it and his skin. And, sure, there's a lot he's learned about Primarchs in the time the other has been with them, but even he had to admit that was a new one. He wasn't aware the so-called Supreme Primarch was capable of making a noise so inhuman it put the likes of sharks and zombie whales, and fish way too big to be physically possible to shame. And oh it hurt to laugh so hard that his lungs were rattling around in his chest, but he couldn't help it. Even wrapping his magic-touched hands around his stomach wasn't enough to stop his wheezing, and he could feel the sharp bite of tears beginning to nip at the corners of his eyes as that sound echoed through his head on repeat. It was in that moment that the Captain decided, no matter what may come his way -- literal Hell or high water, that sound alone was worth whatever torment Sandalphon has in mind. But that didn't mean he was going to let that torment come easily. Not a chance. If the archangel wanted to ring his throat, he was going to have to catch him first -- which, really, didn't amount to much given that Gran was incapable of flying, but, well, he was pretty good at running. He got his fair share of running in every single day with the amount of trouble the crew tends to get themselves into.

    So, despite the chill that races down his spine when that armor vanishes, and he can see the fire that rages within Sandalphon's eyes the moment that light forms on his back, Gran knows he should high-tail it out of there before he ends up target practice for the other, and, frankly, he suspects he won't do nearly as well as Lucio does when it comes to being blasted by untold amounts of power. Yet, he still has the audacity to crack a smile at the threat hurled his way despite the growl that echoes low through the room. Oh, Sandalphon's serious -- there's no doubt there, but Gran's never really been one to care about that so he turns around mid-step as he's about to race out from the kitchen to lift his hands while a cheeky grin colors his features. 'Can't be a dead man if you can't catch me, S-A-N-D-Y,’ he purposefully signs the other's name in a teasing flare as he races in place.

   'Also, if you don't want ice cubes poured down your back maybe you shouldn't wear armor in the dead of summer! I'm doing you a favor, and looking out for my good friend, the all powerful Supreme Primarch, to make sure he doesn't die of heat stroke.’ Sticking out his tongue, he turns around once more and dashes out of the room, not bothering to look back to see if the other was chasing him as he clamors through the halls. The sound of his boots slamming against the wood echoes against the wooden walls, and it's no surprise that he draws the attention of countless crew members as he heedlessly races past them. With rushed steps, he hurls himself at the door leading up, and stumbles onto the deck with labored breaths. The hot summer air strikes his features, and highlights his already flushed skin from running as he inhales and takes off towards the sails. He doesn't suspect he'll actually get very far, especially now that he's given Sandalphon the open sky to catch him in, but, well, he had a vaguely decent life, right?

#cxffexngel #| ☩ You are a tidal wave ; violently alive when you reform the lives you touch ☩ (Gran: IC) | #| ☩ And captain ; the world is at your fingertips so guide it well ☩ (Gran: Verse: Default) | #{ I have so many soft things I could give you and yet here I am choosing violence forgive e hfjsghfjvhdfjkfds } #{ I have nothing else to say for myself your honor I rest my case hfjdjfkglsfds }

[caeruleis]

i could have been soft, i could have been kind

things went very wrong

#| ☩ At the end of the world ; will it be you and me again ☩ (Musings) | #| ☩ Nothing is more fleeting and fragile than the sun at sunset ☩ (Gran: Musings) | #{ I have no right to post musings on this blog but I feel this deep in my soul for Gran and I have so many feelings about it hfdjhgjdlks } #{ Never forget this is Gran's blog DFJGKFHGKDgds } #| ☩ just because you breathe doesn’t mean you’re alive ☩ (Eustace: Musings) | #{ This has Eustace vibes too but I like to pretend I forget about him because it's my job to forget about all of Evie's husbandos } #{ Eustace #Astor and *looks at smudged handwriting* Luci....Luci....nope can;t remember GFDJKGJDKHGKFDS }

[caeruleis]

If I had a dollar for every p*rn bot that somehow finds and follows this blog I would be a very wealthy man VJDFKGJFDKJGS

I don’t know when I’ll be active on here as I have a few writing projects with due dates (I got into a Zine! My first one, and first one ever applied to!! I had to fudge the app too because I think I was limited to like 7.5k words total in examples and I could not mathematically reach that with my a03 fics so i had to like steal drabbles from my RP blogs to hit it and even then let me tell you it was a struggle bfdhjgfjs and doing GBF SS over on Twitter again this year and I think we get our assignments soon for that too)! Buuuut I do miss my dorks here so, if we have an existing thread, and you wish to continue it give this post a like or shoot me a message so I know what to keep that’s in my drafts (I know Evie, Anne, Noir, and Kat are cool with me keeping things, so you guys are good there)!!!

#| ☩ Out of Time (OOC) ☩ | #{ IT'S ONLY THIS BLOG TOO LIKE THIS IS A SIDE BLOG THEY NEVER FOLLOW LUCI IT'S ONLY THIS ONE } #{ If we're mutuals feel free to ask for my twitter! It's not anything special I used to try to post some days I still make attempts most #{ days I just retweet pretty art GFDJGDJGKS } #{ I have a business twitter too/sewing twitter if anyone wants that since I know some of you know about that! } #{ but also pspspsps Kat can you remind me of what threads we dropped and kept? I thiiiiink I removed the dropped ones from my drafts #{ but I want to double check since I know we decided some of them had reached a good ending point! } #{ Or if you want my discord feel free to shoot me a message here and I can send that to you! } #{ Whatever works best! } #{ Noir the thing I have for you is an ask from Gran that I have been intending to respond to for months GJDKJFGFKDSHJGS #{ Gran wants to bully Sandy but has been denied his best friend rights because Lucifer owns my brain hfgdjhgjdks } #{ Poor N may he RIP he just wants to love one (1) fluffy boy but there is a very bright angel standing between him and his ability to do so #{ But I;ll get to that one soon! I;m working on one of them tonight might not get done but I'm going to start a reply to you } #{ It might still be a while due to owing the zine and SS gift but I might try to bounce back and forth a bit because I feel like if I let #{ Luci own my brain for too long he'll take it and run with it FSDJGJFDKHJKGS I think he already has hfjsdgfjs } #{ Mainly I miss Gran so Gran things might manage to slip through! }

[caeruleis]

thorn-kissed​:  

Djeeta smiled sheepishly at Eustace as he came over and straightened out her coat and hat for her. She thought she had done a pretty good job, but it was clear she didn’t. Mouse kept catching the clumps of snow falling from her and she couldn’t help but let out a little giggle. At least he was enjoying himself even when no one was giving him affection. 

Eustace seemed to know exactly where to go to find a sled and she was relieved that everything was falling into place. The next phase of the plan was more thought out but she still wasn’t exactly sure how to execute it perfectly. Lyria would be upset that she couldn’t come with her but it was too dangerous. Lyria would freeze out in these temperatures, and they couldn’t pack that many people onto a sled. And while Djeeta wouldn’t fare much better she didn’t want to send another crew member in this position. 

Her footsteps were very ungraceful in the crunchy snow and Djeeta found herself following in the footprints Eustace had left behind. Mouse trotted alongside him and she couldn’t help but smile a bit. She was relieved that they did seem so close, and really did want Eustace to come along for that fact. That and she trusted him and knew he could probably handle this from previous experience.

Once they reached the shed Djeeta looked around surprised that it was just a communal sled area. She thought that people would have just made their own, but if it was such a big event it made sense to have some extra. She tried to knock the snow off of her boots following Eustace’s lead. Her eyes wandered around to all the sleds, wondering what each style meant, if one was better for one quality at the cost of another or if it was just a style choice. Her eyes went back to Eustace as he picked out their sled and she nodded following him out feeling a bit guilty for not carrying anything.

Mouse was beyond delighted to figure out he was involved in her plans for the race and she came over and patted his head as Eustace fitted the harness around him. Then he asked for the plan and she bit her lip, hoping it was better than how she felt about it. “I’m going to have some crew members scattered across the route in case any monsters attack. We can’t be everywhere at once so it’s best to have the most area covered. Since we can’t exactly put them on every part of the route we’ll have to be in the race itself in case something happens in one of those blank areas,” she looked over at Eustace knowing that he wouldn’t hold back if it was a dumb plan, but everyone always expected her to come up with one and she couldn’t let them down.

“I think it’s best to try to stay in the middle of the pack, in case the rear or front get attacked but our skill level will probably dictate if we actually can or not,” she added on. Not that Djeeta doubted Eustace’s skill level, she believed in his more than her’s. Everything always seemed to work out for her in the end though, but she really didn’t want to test the limits of that luck.

   His gloved hands work nimbly to get the overly excited canine into the harness - a feat that is, shockingly, more difficult than adjusting the specs of his weapon or cleaning out the inner shell of the barrel because Mouse simply refuses to remain still for more than a few seconds at a time, and he’s been whacked by the dog’s tail a few dozen times before he’s actually managed to finish. His jacket covered in fur by the time he straightens himself out to direct his attention back to Djeeta, but not before ruffling the fur atop the massive animal’s head as he listens. Well, Mouse appears to be paying attention as well, his ears perked forward as his large tongue hangs down from his mouth - he looks eager to get on the road, or ice, Eustace supposes, but patience is a virtue they’re going to need if they’re not planning on getting ahead of the other riders in the long run - too fast, and the plan she’s already conveyed to him would fall apart just as terribly as if they were too slow. 

     “That would be the safest course of action,” he confirms, of course, the biggest issue were the stretches of land that were difficult to reach, even with an airship. The weather made certain areas of the island inaccessible by simply walking, as well as by taking the sip. And, needless to say, even without that it wouldn’t be reasonable to stretch out the entire crew along the race to begin with. Covering the areas most likely to be troublesome, and then having a group enter to keep an eye on the competitors was the more straightforward manner of ensuring their safety. Unfortunately, the number of people who could enter the race was limited, as was the number of dogs and sleds available for them to borrow. It wasn’t feasible to have more than one team in the race itself. He couldn’t say he was a fan of the idea, but it was easily their best course of action. Its saving grace being the fact that he could, at least, protect the Captain personally should this little plot of hers take a turn.   

      “Naturally,” he sighs as he glances over as Mouse. By now, the canine’s fluffy tail has created a dent in the snow from wagging so hard and there’s but of ice clinging to the tips of his boots thanks to the wind the dog’s kicked up. Mouse was their only viable option, but he had his doubts if he was the best option. Only; yes. Best; not so much. But he can’t exactly resist the sparkle that’s clearly visible in Mouse’s massive, bright blue eyes that lock with his whenever he so much as cants his head in the animal’s direction. “A slight disturbance in our placement in the race could very well cost lives.” He stresses his words, yet he’s looking directly at Mouse, not Djeeta, as he speaks, and the animal hands his massive head down in shame as he whimpers faintly. 

     “Remaining in the middle of the pack will allow us to cover the most ground, and ensure we’ll be present for the greatest range of people. Unfortunately, the distance between each sled can very drastically the further along the course the race gets.” In the worst case scenario, they end up in the back. While leading wouldn’t be ideal, it would allow them to clear out monster before the other racers arrived. The problem with that being, of course, if any monsters slip through their cracks and go after the weakest racers well behind them. 

     “For now, we should familiarize ourselves with the sled, the map, and the basic commands Mouse knows.” He steps back from the dog to give Djeeta room to reach the sled. “Do you intend to act as the main musher?” It might be for the best given how easy it would be for him to pick off monsters from a distance, and his poor eyesight. Though he’s not opposed to taking the position if the need arises. “Try getting on the back of the sled. Get used to the weight of the reins in your hands, and the pressure you need to apply to reach Mouse. The same can be applied to your tone and volume of voice.”  

#thornkissed #| ☩ And if my hand could block the sun ; would we ever wake again ☩ (Eustace: IC) | #| ☩ And the blood ; it pours from our hands now ☩ (Eustace: Verse: Default) | #| ☩ In a world devoid of feeling ; you are the torch that lights the dark ☩ (Eustace/Djeeta: thornkissed) | #{ now you can't say that I owe you Eustace!!! }

[caeruleis]

All my grief says the same thing— this isn't how it's supposed to be. And the world laughs, holds my hope by my throat, says: but this is how it is.

Fortesa Latifi, The Truth About Grief

#| ☩ At the end of the world ; will it be you and me again ☩ (Musings) | #| ☩ Nothing is more fleeting and fragile than the sun at sunset ☩ (Gran: Musings) | #| ☩ underneath it all i'm held captive by the hole inside ☩ (tien: musings) | #| ☩ For all of the bruises I've caused and the tears ☩ (Vira: Musings) |

[caeruleis]

neverbefore​:

Upon hearing Lucilius’ icy reply, he could practically feel the chill travel through his bones but he stood his ground. He was unwilling to falter even when there was GREATNESS before him, even if he may be defied and rendered without choice. He wouldn’t consciously, nor intentionally, let someone else take his place and simply for research. It would take more than simply shattering his will; yet with the way Lucilius had replied it implied that if he truly desired—he could do whatever he pleased. Power was dangerous and for a breath of a moment, he FELT it. It gripped his soul unlike the wintry winds outside. It was as if being plunged beneath the arctic waters, trapped beneath the thickest layers of ice, and gasping for air. Only, he didn’t gasp or recoil even as his nerves tingled with apprehension. He didn’t WISH to go back to where his fears had taken root but he couldn’t let someone else experience the same, not if he could help it. There’s only a fraction of relief as he noticed the tense atmosphere gradually let up. The next words that Lucilius had to share were less of a threat but rather speculative. In place of Decay? Is that what he called what he considered lesser beings? He tried not to let the corners of his mouth show as they twitched to frown. He almost opened his jaw to add thought to the process. Worry gathering at the thought that Lucilius was already settled with sending someone else out. However, before his jaw could part, Lucilius was speaking of yet another idea. Bait. He blinked at the idea but shifted his weight as he let it sink in. There were a few matters that came to mind, yet he hesitated to say it. If he expressed what obstacles they would face, would Lucilius double back to the previous plan? He would much rather they try something futile than throw someone into their hands. “They won’t send their whole agency…” but he knew better. Oslyeus was certain that Lucilius wouldn’t accept failure and if they were to be successful, then every aspect had to be covered. “… but maybe if we leave a few survivors, we could trace how they go back—if I knew where their base was located, I would have told you already. All I know is that it’s on an island and I’m unsure if it’s the only one… I’d assume they have multiple…” which also meant that letting one individual get taken wouldn’t be enough. “Oh—but I do know they are from the United States. I haven’t had one with a different language come after me and they’ve all worn uniform from the states…” At least that took out a good chunk of the world. He just hoped that they hadn’t partnerships or something else worldwide. It wasn’t as if he had the opportunity to travel much without an identification nor a clean record to slip onto the planes with. Oslyeus perked ever so subtly at the latter idea. Ears pointed up briefly before falling in a sheepish way at the sides of his cranium. The way he phrased it was somewhat embarrassing. He was only beginning to realize how Lucilius was making odd mention of his being; as if he owned him… then again, he supposed he wasn’t exactly ‘free’ either but ‘prisoner’ didn’t seem suitable for the luxuries he was given on the daily. “… I like that idea…” he murmured, “… and I-I can help, too…” The last thing he wanted was to merely sit by and let Lucilius handle his problems. While the subject shifted, Oslyeus merely listened to what more details Lucilius could provide about Lucifer. What he said, however, stole the breath from his lungs. His heart quickened against his ribcage and he tried to keep a straight expression with the knowledge that was spilling before him. A God? The way he had said it was with such DISTASTE, though, and he wasn’t given an answer. Why was being a god such a terrible thing? Why was it an insult? He was sure that the word expressed an indescribable status, one worthy of worship, a being that was well beyond that of any living creature… which didn’t make sense if Lucilius created God… wouldn’t that make Lucilius an even higher entity? His brain started to reel with the information and he couldn’t form words before the other disappeared to gather some robes.

Even during his change, he didn’t say anything but was merely thankful that the other had complied to giving him SOME privacy. He wanted to argue with Lucilius’ mentioning of observations and how every detail was important, but should he really be arguing with such a higher being? He unintentionally let out a groan as he waded through his thoughts. “… I’d like to keep my paws,” he finally spoke after a moment of admiring the new silks that he wore. With having shed his damp ‘coat’, his skin was dry and he hadn’t the chill of winter on his backside. He meandered carefully through the organized mess that decorated the room and found his way to the familiar couch. “… why aren’t we with Lucifer destroying… creatures that continue to try to plague the world? I know you’re very busy but you said you could do anything… why not seal off the creatures for good?” He didn’t fully understand any of it. They clearly all had a role but he truly believed that with Lucilius being the creator of most beings, and one that was equivalent to a god, he could very well do anything…

   His fingers tap idly against the thick journal containing Oslyeus’s information, or what he had gathered through observation thus far. There were quicker methods, of course, to obtaining more accurate and detailed conclusions from what the other might or might know about the organization pursuing him, but those extreme weren’t, in Lucilius’s eyes, necessary at the moment. Should they be needed somewhere along the lines he wasn’t opposed to taking far more drastic methods, but it wasn’t his priority. Humans lived dreadfully short lives. To him, their existence was little more than a blink - he was by no means patient, but a year to a human was likely comparable to a minute or so for someone such as himself. They were simply incompetent creatures who continued to stick their unwelcome noses where they were better off never treading. And so, in this case, waiting was hardly waiting at all to him. He doesn’t know Oslyeus’s lifespan, he hasn’t gathered enough research on the other just yet to draw a concrete conclusion, but he can make an educated or assume one of the following: Oslyeus’s lifespan was comparable to a human’s, Oslyeus’s lifespan was far lesser than his own though longer than the average human’s, and that Oslyeus was likely, in contrast, quite young. Either of those options are fairly easy to conclude when Oslyeus still has so much fear of this group instilled into him. If he were long-lived he could simply out-last them, and continue running until the organization eventually falls apart over a matter of centuries. If he is long-lived; however, that would make him young - someone older wouldn’t fret over the how soon or when. And, judging by his overall reaction to things in Canaan, he must have spent a decent amount of time with these people - even the concept of wearing silk seems unusual to him - and a ‘decent amount of time’ to humans is, well, once more, nothing to him. 

     He sighs, lifting his fingers from the notebook to massage his temples where he can feel a budding headache begin to nip at him from the time he had spent out in the cold. Had Lucifer or Belial been present, the trek wouldn’t have been needed, unfortunately, the lesser archangels weren’t nearly as intelligent and seemed incapable of putting two and two together when it came to Oslyeus vanishing and a massive mutt appearing. “Yes. Doing so would be incredibly foolish of them. While I doubt their brains are capable of processing information at more than a snail’s pace, I imagine, for humans, they must believe themsleves clever.” He’s never had much interest in landdwellers, though that should hardly come as a surprise given how little he cares for Astrals, his own species, as a whole. Of course, every organism has value within the universe, if only at the most fundamental level, and he does study them, humans have never caught his interest for more than a few, fleeting seconds. Though Lucifer appeared rather fond of them, and did enjoy watching them from time to time when he was able to - only then did Lucilius ever truly humor them as something other than weak, ugly insects. “I’ve concluded as much,” he adds on simply. If the other had known, he would have been informed. Oslyeus’s was honest regarding what he did and did not know. “Should it result in that, I am willing to spare a fair few in order to accomplish our end goal, though I expect those survivors to pay me handsomely for my mercy at a later date.” There’s a small upturn of his lips that is nothing akin to a smile, and terribly cruel. Whatever plans he has in store of them is clearly something unpleasant. “Regardless, limiting it to such a small area does lessen the amount of resources needed to pursue them should they choose to find their way here.”  

    His hand lowers to rest on his desk, his skin still feels a chill from the frigid wind outside, but it’s easily ignored. “Assuming your ‘helping’ doesn’t hinder my results, otherwise, the subtleties within your dreams are enough assistance to make such action worthwhile on their own.” While he might harbor an interest in dismantling this group for their arrogance, and useless practices, he’s hardly dismissed or forgotten about the reason he wanted to keep Oslyeus here in the first place. Those dreams have yet to yield concrete results, nor can he verify, at the moment, whether or not the one appearing in the other’s dreams is himself or Lucifer. Another detail that’s important to him. Even if he doesn’t believe Lucifer’s destruction to be possible, Lucifer remains his most perfect creation, and should something threaten to stand in the way of that, he has no qualms about using violence to subdue it. A creator, after all, has an inherit desire to protect their creations - even the lesser archangels that he viewed at little more than worms to be used as he pleased. But that was for him - if others dare toyed with them in the same manner he would sooner slice their fingers from their wandering hands than allow them to make a mockery of his design. 

       “Then I suggest you behave yourself.” He only turns in his chair to face Oslyeus once more after he hears the other plop back down on the couch he spends quite a bit of his time in whenever he’s toiling away at something, and the other is in his office with him. The groan hadn’t been lost on him, but he doesn’t make mention of it. “I created Lucifer with the purpose of governing evolution, he maintains balance within this world,” he begins, rather matter of factly. “It is not by my order, my will, or even the will of nature itself that he engages in that war, but rather of his own free will. Do you understand the meaning of my words?” He sneers, a sharp look cast at the icy window above his desk. “Of his own free will he has chosen to actively defend humanity from a beast they would be incapable of defending themselves from otherwise. I see little point in doing battle with them. Whether humanity lives or perishes is of no consequence to me. Therefore, what these creatures do also harbors little meaning to me as they are not a threat to myself or to my creations. Lucifer; however, appears to have a soft spot for them.” 

      He can’t imagine why, but studying humans does fall within Luicfer’s purpose - they are, after all, a result of evolution so there’s no need to stop him from observing them either. Still, he pinches the bridge of his nose in disgust. “Lucifer is wasting his time and energy fighting a senseless war for inane creatures who will never be aware of the extent he’s gone through to defend them. I have asked him to leave it be, but he insists it’s within his duty to do so.” That headache is coming on stronger now, and his brows crinkle visibly. “Regardless, sealing off the creatures is doable to a certain extent - they have already, largely, been sealed off, but as a result of mankind’s continued negligence they continue to find holes in the boundary between worlds, and continue to slip through. So while these holes are patched, more will appear - so long as humanity continues to exist. Eradicating humanity would be the quickest way to ensure more holes do not appear, but as I explained, Lucifer has a soft spot for them. Regardless, our help isn’t needed. Those holes are still small and far between at the moment. Assisting him would prove to be a hindrance when he would exercise more energy protecting those went along with them than he would simply slaying the beasts on his own. That should answer your question. All of them, on the matter.” It was clearly a sour topic for him. He intended to dethrone and destroy God, the world would fall, and humanity would be lost then - why not simply speed up the process and be done with them now? Because Lucifer’s heart is too kind for his own good and Lucilius, often, sincerely wished it weren’t, but he supposes, as well, that Lucifer would not be Lucifer without his gentleness.       

#neverbefore #| ☩ Roses fall at your feet ; Lifeless cold in this twisted shell with another kiss goodbye ☩ (Lucilius: IC) | #| ☩ And the fragments of my skull begin to fall ; there’s a crack in every seam ☩ (Lucilius: Verse: Researcher - slight AU) | #| ☩ Lucilius Thread: 07: whisperonn: Oslyeus ☩ | #{ This is very late but here we are! } #{ Cilius is grumpy but he's answering questions so that's progress lol } #{ The reply in which Cilius explains he detests everything and everyone but Lucifer lol }

[caeruleis]

hartblooms​:

blue eyes widen for a second, lucifer’s expression now a soft and grateful one. his creator is stern and methodical, he plans his projects with the care of an artisan tuning the finest chord –– to have the honor of being granted the gift of life craft, no oversight or previous blueprint required –– that is something no one ever had his approval for. it truly makes the primarch smile, a delighted curve of lips that seems brighter than usual; head now bowing as he speaks “ thank you, tomoyo. “ lucifer looks directly into lucilius’ eyes, the mirror that reflects their parallels “ i will not disappoint you. “ millions of possibilities cross through his mind, the calculations already taking form –– he cannot expect his first attempts to turn out successful, that would be as presumptuous as the gravest sin –– but still, it fills lucifer’s heart with an excitement he didn’t imagine was possible ( was lucilius also this joyful when creating them all? he could only imagine that yes; the archangels are so close to their own individual perfection –– only a joyful mind could have molded their likeness ).

“ when… when can i start? “ it is a question more to himself rather than to the astral before him. how should he start? it is quite peculiar, how the previous excitement takes a slow turn to doubt –– my; he has never asked how the entire process took place, and it shames him how it only occurs to him now “ how do you start planing, tomoyo? “ where do all those ideas come from? the small caterpillar who turns into a butterfly and the green leaves that become orange by fall; when did such beautiful concepts took form in your mind? there are many thoughts that come to lucifer and he cannot possibly voice them all; but the biggest, warmest and happiest one is that his dear friend can only be so full of wonder to create all of those things they know.

   The joy in Lucifer’s eyes is evident, even to Lucilius who often doesn’t bother to acknowledge others, and who often couldn’t care less about the feelings of those around him. The Supreme Primarch had, and always would be the exception - his observations of Lucifer differ widely from how he chooses to examine the other archangels. “You’re incapable of disappointing me,” he says simply, as if it’s a proven fact or a casual off-handed statement that doesn’t need further clarification because, to him, it is. Lucifer is perfection embodied. He’s the image of power, beauty, and intellect - it’s physically impossible for any action the other chooses to take to disappoint him in any capacity. Even if Lucifer’s first several attempts at creating an archangel end in failure, it wouldn’t serve to muddle Lucilius’s opinion of the Primal. Creation was a delicate process, and not one he took lightly - unlike the inane, worthless God that supposedly watched over this world who, seemingly, created haphazard and incomplete beings that served no set purpose and were given life just to rot and decay as the years slipped through their fingers. No, his creations were different. They had a purpose. And so, too, would the being Lucifer created, whether or not the archangel himself would be truly aware of that purpose was for time to dictate.  

    His steely eyes never turn from Lucifer’s. They’re a reflection of one another, and, yet, they’re a world apart in the same breath. The Primarch’s eyes are a glorious shade of blue that mimics the sky at midday, and, within them, a frenzy of emotions stir that Lucilius isn’t entirely blind to. His own; however, seem dull in contrast - weighed down by sleepless nights and the thoughts that are always whirling in the back of his mind. Compared to Lucifer’s they’re hollow and largely devoid of emotion. “I’ll lend you my research notes on yourself and Belial. From there, I imagine you are more than capable of coming up with a blueprint of your own.” The other archangels were lesser than his first creations - there was no need for Lucifer to create incompetent life incapable of serving its predestined purpose, though he doubts such a being is needed in the first place. For now; however, he still has ongoing trials to run on the lesser archangels so having a safety-net isn’t an unnecessary step to make for the time. “As for planning...” he allows himself to think for a moment, it’s not a question he would have humored with an answer had it come from anyone else. “Determine that it is you value, and the reason you’ve made this choice. You’re actively choosing to give life to something. I trust the life you create is not one you intend to waste, regardless it’s best to ponder these things before beginning. Without reason, there’s no purpose in existing.”   

#hartblooms #| ☩ Lucilius Thread: 03: hartblooms: Lucifer ☩ | #| ☩ Roses fall at your feet ; Lifeless cold in this twisted shell with another kiss goodbye ☩ (Lucilius: IC) | #| ☩ And the fragments of my skull begin to fall ; there’s a crack in every seam ☩ (Lucilius: Verse: Researcher) | #{ Oh no you're fine! Take all of the time you need! } #{ And thank you for your patience!! } #{ I also weep!! } #{ Lucifer cares so much! My heart! Lucilius's dead rotten heart! GFKhfgjhlgfd }

[caeruleis]

{ Slowly I will start to do replies again! So, if you’re still interested in continuing our threads just give this a like so I know if it’s okay for me to respond to them (generally, if you’re someone I speak to on Dis.cord, I’m assuming you’re okay with keeping them, but feel free to like this regardless)! I hope you have all been well, and that this week is very kind to you! Don’t forget to take breaks, and to be kind to yourself! }

#| ☩ Out of Time (OOC) ☩ | #{ And here too! }

[caeruleis]

quick Noa because i didn’t get him </3

#| ☩ And time wept for what it held in its dying hands ☩ (Images) | #| ☩ it’s good to see the sun; to find something that was always there ☩ (noa: images) |

[caeruleis]

unladylikc​:

     As much as the idea of accidentally exposing her body to unsuspecting individuals on the ship excited her, actually allowing that to happen was a different story altogether; in fact, Vivian was already determined to keep her fantasies seperate from reality, that the very thought someone could  LAY  their eyes on her most shameful places was enough to mortify her. Why, the last thing she’d want was others, especially Percival, to find out she went commando while chasing Gran, so upon squinting towards him and wordlessly deciphering his hand gestures, she could only gawk in disbelief. Skies, did he not realize she was legitimately naked underneath that flimsy black shirt? Or does Gran secretly have a humiliation kink, to the point where he derived sadistic glee from flustering her?

     Well, regardless, Vivian could hardly even utter a word as he proceeds to wink and scurry past her room, for she was at a true loss for words. In the end, she ponders whether she should really risk running after him with just a shirt shrouding her petite frame, but soon concluded that it would be much wiser to get  DRESSED  before confronting Gran; besides, she’s sure up close, he would be able to see the notable outline of her erect nipples behind the fabric and childhood friend or not, he was still a guy, prompting her to release an eventual sigh.

     “ …Jeez, he’s lucky he didn’t find me in my birthday suit. ” When Vivian reaches a hand towards the nightstand for her glasses, however, her fingers soon grasp at empty air, which has her cease with stunned, owlish blinks rolling off her eyelids. Oh, for crying out loud… did he take her glasses too? Sure enough, she’ll turn, only to confirm her suspicions were correct. Gran did indeed take her glasses - a revelation that immediately causes her to scowl. Mere moments later, Vivian then leaps off her bed and bends down, before rummaging her hands through scattered  BOOKS  alongside papers for her undergarments. The whole entire time, she curses Gran, wishing all his future bacon would burn. Once she does manage to finally shrug on her clothes, though, a few minutes had already passed, and she finds herself hurrying out her door while frantically beginning her search.

     Of course, due to her vision not being the best, Vivian ended up colliding against the odd, occasional wall and stumbling over her feet once or twice, yet luckily for her, Gran wasn’t that hard to spot; in fact, he was always lingering ahead, making it easier for her to finally catch up to him. Now that she entered the kitchen, on the other hand, she couldn’t help panting with back slunched over in exhaustion  AND  hands clasping her knees. Provided Gran chanced an idle peek down at her, he would definitely have noticed a comical bump adorned between her deflated ears.

     “ About… damn time I caught up to you! ” Vivian gasps. “ Honestly, Gran-gran, did you really have to pilfer my glasses? It wasn’t already enough you had stolen both my blankets and my heart? ” Considering how melodramatically she uttered that last question, it’s rather clear she was overexaggerating. Why, had Vivian truly been serious, she would have been blushing by now. “ Anyways… could you please give them back? They’re practically an extension of my body at this point, that it feels wierd, walking around without them on. ”

   Oh, he has to try incredibly hard not to let out a wheezy laugh whenever he turns his head to watch her chase clumsily after him. She really can’t see a thing without her glasses, which, all right, made him taking them possibly a tad cruel, but that was fine. In his books, at least, because watching poor Vivian bumble around was worth it. At least she didn’t get too banged up, from what he could tell, as he looked her up and down in the doorway of the kitchen. Well, minus that almost comically large bump forming between her ears that was, and he had to cover his mouth with his palm to hide the snicker that breathlessly forces its way past his throat at the sight of it. Slouched over as she was, panting and with her hands pressed against her knees, only made it all the more visible to him. If she hadn’t been awake before, he’s willing to hazard a guess that she was as awake as she ever would be right now. Which is what he had been aiming for in the first place. Childhood friend she might be, but that wasn’t enough to save her from his dreadfully rude awakenings. 

    He lowers his hand as that melodramatic rant filters into the air, and hw wheezes playfully at it. Having grown up with her, he’s fairly confident in his ability to read her, and he’s aware she’s far from serious when it comes to her questions. Well, the first question was serious - the second one, not so much. But if he hadn’t taken her glasses he couldn’t grantee that she would chase after him, so, as far as he was concerned, she only had herself to blame. But before he could grace her with an answer, that bump was growing more tempting by the seconds that slipped by, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out with his hand. His calloused index finger gently giving it a teasing poke before he swiftly retracts his hand.

   ‘Yup. If I hadn’t swiped them, you might have chased me all this way.’ His hands move with the confidence of a man who couldn’t care less about the consequences of his actions. Backed by the utterly shameless, toothy grin stretched across his chapped lips, and it’s somehow a wonder how he hadn’t managed to make an enemy of every single member of the crew he leads. ‘The blankets and your heart, while a decent bit of collateral, don’t make nearly as nice hostages as your glasses do.’  With that, he carefully pulls her glasses out from the pocket of his coat - shifting onto his tip toes to dangle hem above her to the best of his ability. Which, frankly, wasn’t much, but at least it was something. 

     ‘You can have them back, but only if you agree to do me a favor in return.’ He wiggles them the more he uses his hands, still clumsily signing with both of them despite holding her glasses between his fingers. The only saving grace is the fact that he’s being careful not to drop or damage them. He’s not about to have to pay her back for them. They were already struggling for rupies as it was, and he didn’t need an extra payment on top of it. For all the work they do in these skies, they sure as hell don’t get paid a lot for it so he had to squeeze out every last coin when he could. It’s also not like he was actively trying to make her blind for the rest of her life either, well, that was maybe dramatic - until they could be replaced. He just wanted to delay it a bit longer. ‘So, come on, let’s go, Chop chop.’ While still keeping her glasses high above their heads, he used his free hand to grasp her wrist when he was finished signing before tugging her deeper into the kitchen. 

      Only then did he release his hold on her, and carefully place her glasses into her hand. “Ta-da! Impressive right?’ He signs - holding his hands out wide on either side of his body as he spins in place, gesturing the wide assortment of pies and freshly baked breads stretched out all over the table he had lead her to. ‘Remember when we said we were gonna bake a whole bunch of pies for the crew? Well, I decided to get a head start without you, but I’m still in need of a taste-tester. What do you say, Vivi?’   

#unladylikc #| ☩ You are a tidal wave ; violently alive when you reform the lives you touch ☩ (Gran: IC) | #| ☩ And captain ; the world is at your fingertips so guide it well ☩ (Gran: Verse: Default) | #| ☩ gran: thread 16: unladylikc: vivian ☩ | #| tw. suggestive | #{ hgfjdhgjvfkdg your dedication is to be admired } #{ Ahhhh I'm glad because boy am I slow lol } #{ When day my replies will come at a reasonable speed again but when will that day return we just don't know } #{ Oh I feel that deep in my soul hfjxhgjkvxd } #{ FJBKFGDHJhbfgl he is awful } #{ This man knows no fear only chaos } #{ Peace was never an option hudvfjhvd }

[caeruleis]

grxndcyphcr​:

Ilsa only sighed in response to his remarks; Beatrix had insisted that they take this day off as a little treat for how hard they’ve been working. She recalled how she was dragged off to a boutique along with Zeta to go shopping for clothes for her vacation leave. Come to think of it, she wasn’t even sure how she was approved for a vacation like this, considering how training recruits was a job that required her constant presence. But she paid it not a single thought more; she’ll make it up to those recruits with a slew of harsh training sessions once she came back.

“I must say,” she spoke to break the tense air between them a little, “I didn’t think you actually would take up Hellcat’s offer like this. What gives?” She fired that last question as a little sort of playful jab at him, a slight smirk curling up her lips as she said it. “Is the pressure from work finally setting in?” At the very least, she was grateful to have Eustace as her companion for this little day off. And she could afford to be less formal with him on this occasion. 

    If he were being honest, he’d made the same assumption about her as she had him. Given her role, acquiring any time off was difficult. Frankly, and he hates to admit, he’s impressed Beatrix had managed to arrange this in the first place. Or rather, he hopes she had. The thought leaves him with a growing sense of dread he attempts to ignore. Worrying about it now most certainly won’t get them anywhere. “No,” comes his rather curt response, though there’s no hostility or bite behind it as he shakes his head. He’s simply blunt by nature. Despite the frown seemingly etched upon his features, and how tense his shoulders are - as if he’s always prepared for an attack at any given point in time, believe it or not, this is actually his ‘relaxed’ and more ‘casual’ state of being. Even down to his attire, despite the fact that he still carried his weapon with him. 

       “Unfortunately,” he breathes, once more using thumb and forefinger to massage his temples. “She can be fairly persuasive when she puts in the effort.” And by persuasive, he means persistent - as in she would not cease pestering him until he agreed to this little idea of hers. Every morning he would find her lurking in various places to grab his attention or simply bursting into his room. Eventually, it became too much, and he caved - all so he could have what little quiet time he had back. “If I hadn’t agreed, I would never have a quiet moment to myself again.” He lowers his hand, allowing it to rest upon the table. “I could ask you the same question. I wasn’t expecting you to show. How did she convince you?” The same tactics she had employed on him would never work on Ilsa, after all. Beatrix, after all, knew where she stood when it came to the person she had learned the ropes from. 

#grxndcyphcr #| ☩ eustace: thread: 02: grxndcyphcr: ilsa ☩ | #| ☩ And if my hand could block the sun ; would we ever wake again ☩ (Eustace: IC) | #| ☩ And the blood ; it pours from our hands now ☩ (Eustace: Verse: Default) | #{ hfdsugfuds no worries I am not the least bit speedy } #{ But Eustace verses was A+! } #{ And Ilsa on call also A+! }

[caeruleis]

Tien tag dump!

* As I use the English translation for all of the muses on this blog as it is, I will refer to her as Tien by default.  

| ☩ I’m trying to make me better piece by piece ☩ (Tien: IC) |

| ☩ Underneath it all I'm held captive by the hole inside ☩ (Tien: musings) |

| ☩ Lay your head on me; I’ll be here to stay ☩ (Tien: images) |

| ☩ All my mistakes are slowly drowning me ☩ (Tien: Headcanon) |

| ☩ How I break while you fall asleep; how I’m still haunted by the memories ☩ (Tien: drabble |

| ☩ I promise you don’t have to be afraid anymore; I’ll love you through the pain ☩ (Tien: Verse: Default) |

#| ☩ I’m trying to make me better piece by piece ☩ (Tien: IC) | #| ☩ I promise you don’t have to be afraid anymore; I’ll love you through the pain ☩ (Tien: Verse: Default) | #| ☩ Underneath it all I'm held captive by the hole inside ☩ (Tien: musings) | #| ☩ Lay your head on me; I’ll be here to stay ☩ (Tien: images) | #| ☩ All my mistakes are slowly drowning me ☩ (Tien: Headcanon) | #| ☩ How I break while you fall asleep; how I’m still haunted by the memories ☩ (Tien: drabble |

[caeruleis]

Noa tag dump!

| ☩ I’ll give you everything they took of me; let what remains be your guide ☩ (Noa: IC) |

| ☩ I’m a moment that’s held in your arms ☩ (Noa: musings) | 

| ☩ It’s good to see the sun; to find something that was always there ☩ (Noa: images) |

| ☩ I want a moment to feel real ☩ (Noa: Headcanon) |

| ☩ I want to hold on and feel I belong ☩ (Noa: drabble |

| ☩ The world has changed and I’m finally coming home again ☩ (Noa: Verse: Default) |

#| ☩ The world has changed and I’m finally coming home again ☩ (Noa: Verse: Default) | #| ☩ I’m a moment that’s held in your arms ☩ (Noa: musings) | #| ☩ It’s good to see the sun; to find something that was always there ☩ (Noa: images) | #| ☩ I’ll give you everything they took of me; let what remains be your guide ☩ (Noa: IC) | #| ☩ I want a moment to feel real ☩ (Noa: Headcanon) | #| ☩ I want to hold on and feel I belong ☩ (Noa: drabble |