caelestiumanimarum

[caelestiumanimarum]

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[caelestiumanimarum]

Put an 'Angst please.' in my ask and I'll generate a number 1-10 and see what our muses get! || ULTIMATE ANGST VERSION

Warning: Many trigger warnings (self harm, suicide, rape, etc.) will be included in this list. 

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[caelestiumanimarum]

Come to my inbox and tell me what your character would do if they walked into a room to find mine alone, slow dancing with themselves.

submitted by anonymous

[caelestiumanimarum]

"How to Save A Life" Sentence Starters

"We need to talk."

"Sit down it's just a talk."

"Why did I even come?"

"Where did I go wrong?"

"I'll stay up with you all night."

"I know what's best, okay?"

"Oh, of course, you know best."

"Here's your problem." (And then tell them what their problem is.)

"Are you even hearing me?"

"Don't yell at me!"

"You have a problem!"

"Make your choice." (Then give them an ultimatum.)

"I have a problem. I need your help."

"I'm just not the same anymore. Get over it."

"I just wish I knew how to save you."

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Cal looked so desperate, it was hard to keep a sturdy expression on his face. He glanced down as the grip on his hands tightened, and the fact that he was wavering could be seen through his eyes. "Cal..." Leon was reluctant, hesitant, but it seemed like the younger angel needed him as much as he needed the company. "...Yes." The word is breathed out, and he smiles softly as he shakes his head. "--I can't deny you when you make that face now." A laugh to lighten the mood, and then he's gazing at the other again, his love and gratitude for the man practically written all over his face.

""Say 'yes'," Cal said, his hands holding tightly. His voice was near begging, though he'd never verbally admit it. "You say I have a purpose, but after all these years without one becoming evident... mayhaps this is what it was s'posed to be. Maybe I was always meant to find you... accompany you... protect you..." Cal shook his head. It was evident by his slowing down that he was struggling for words.

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He felt hands on his, and their warm presence was enough to make him grasp back in a desperate manner, clinging onto the other as if he was a life line. The moment they made contact he felt the man's Grace run through him, causing him to gasp and shiver. Brethren. Of course. His mind was still in a daze but he searched for a name, any name that he could use to identify who was helping him up. As he calmed himself, the name hit him, and he stared at the other as he weakly managed to sit up.

            "Emmanuel?"

His Grace reacted to the realization, thrumming delicately in its weakened state. Pale fingertips warmed, keeping themselves attached to the other through the process. A sense of rejoyce and regret hit him at once and for a  moment he looked lost. He wanted to warmly embrace the other, for it had been so long since he's seen his brother, but guilt held him back. He knew he was the one who brought the angel here, so close to where he knew the death had taken place. It was dangerous to be here.

            "...What are you doing? You can't              be here. You have to go---"

It is just a slight tremble of his Grace, nothing but a shiver he would deem a single sign of the presence of some of his brethren nearby. — Until it strikes harder. It’s pulling, shattering, tearing him apart on the inside. But it is not. These are not his feelings, his pain. This is an echo carried to him by the invisible thread he’d always said connects all of his kind. An instinct is leading him after the feeling, each movement painful but at the same time full of meaning.

When he finally approaches the figure lying on the ground, the pain has already stopped. His eyes wonder over the vessel, over the body that seems left and dead. That is, until the moment a breath is drown in, in a hungry gasp. Emmanuel slides down, kneeling beside the other before a word is said. His hand finds another, clutching it in a soft, yet solid grasp.

            “Brethren should not be forced              to ask for this. Especially when              it is clear they are in need of help.”

[caelestiumanimarum]

The disagreement startled him enough for the small smile he had to drop for a moment. He didn't think the other would say no so quickly. Was he doing something wrong? Hopefully not. He didn't want to offend Azrael or something. When he heard the somewhat of a explanation though, he took a step forward to respond to the younger one's step back.

      "You do know that I specialize in Grace right? And wings are a manifestation of it. Darling, I've been taking care of people since way before you were born. I know what I'm doing." He pauses a moment, then adds as he crosses his arms over his chest, a motherly disapproving look on his face. "And being used to it isn't a good thing."

His brows furrow, fingertips just barely grazing the bruises on the other's skin before the younger angel pulls away. "Az...?" Leon breaths softly before he straightens himself, sporting the look fledglings used to cringe at because they knew they were going to get scolded. "Azrael," There goes his mother voice, brow raised expectingly and arms crossed over his chest. "What have you been doing? What happened?"

My muse has questionable bruises. What does your muse say?

[[pffft i know this voice and it is not a fun voice]]

Azrael found a cringe flashing across his features, eyebrows furrowing over downcast hazel eyes, feeling himself seemingly shrink away from the authority laced through Leon’s words, the order written in his raised brow and crossed arms.

          “Nothin’ dangerous—.” It was the truth. Mostly. “My shoulders are always bruised, even a bit burnt. Guess it’s somethin’ of a physical manifestation of my useless wings.”

He kept his voice low, eyes still zeroed on the ground below, the increasingly common feeling of reverting back to a fledgling being reprimanded and scolded washing over him unpleasantly. He only barely resisted the urge to shuffle his feet and look guilty, as if him Falling was somehow his fault.

In a sense, he believed it was his fault, even if all the facts pointed away from that notion.

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The hands wrapped around his sent warm vibes through his body and he smiled as the other spoke. It was a small smile, but it still managed to convey his gratitude for the endearing sacrifice the other angel was willing to make. "Oh darling..." He muttered, and tears were swimming in his eyes again. "You've always had a purpose. You just don't know it yet." He stepped closer and brought one of the man's hands to his lips, a soft kiss placing itself on the knuckles. The pain was ebbing away by now, but he was still careful not to let the little agony still lingering ruin this moment. "Brother...I love you. Thank you for the offer. I...don't know what to say..." The younger one was so willing, and he wanted the companionship so bad. Maybe if they did stay together, they could keep an eye on each other, and it would be beneficial to both of them. He didn't want to put Cal in the danger and pain his presence brought though. Most angels wanted him for his extensive knowledge and abilities, and he was known for not being able to hurt his family, which led to more than one torture session over the years by his own kind. He didn't want to risk putting Cal in that kind of danger, or in the pain of having to watch as his own brothers and sisters tore him apart.

Cal listens to Leon, waiting patiently and soaking in the words. When he looked down, Cal didn't hesitate to take his hand. Cal's hands were warm and comforting in the cool night.

"I'm not offering out of some need to repay you. Truth be told, it's partly selfish reasons. I want to have a purpose... And I'm not saying that it wouldn't be painful. But that doesn't lessen my offer. I may not be much, but if I can help, I would stay with you."

[caelestiumanimarum]

      The moment the words 'Special Agent' reached his ears       and came into his view, he decided that his suspicions       were correct. Hunter, obviously. The man was going to have       to try a little harder if he wanted to fool an angel. But the fact       that the younger being didn't was good. It meant he didn't       carry any suspicions of his own, which in turn would make       this easier for the both of them.

      "Look, I've just come into town a few days ago. All the information        I have to offer is the same information on the local newspaper. I'm        afraid I--" The rest of the sentence was replaced with a sharp intake        of breath. He bit his lip and staggered back, catching himself before        he fell. He could feel the markings on his back shift, and he used        every bit of restraint he had to not let out a sob. Bowing his head away        from view, he quickly composed himself, focusing on stopping the        tremor running through his body as he looked back up and pulled        a pained smile. "S-Sorry, but I won't b-be of any u-use." He gulped        then quickly moved to turn away, wobbling slightly as he did so.

          “Ah, sorry—.” A fumble with the false identification card he carried, pulling it free from its inner jacket pocket, flipping it open to reveal the false information written across it. “Special Agent Alexander Franklin. Been sent here by the higher ups to investigate the odd deaths happening.” A lie and a truth interwoven in one, a trick he had learned as he became more adept at lying or flirting to get what he needed.

          “I realize death is often a touchy subject for anyone, but it’s a necessity to ask as I can’t get information any other way. Not unless I somehow run into who’s the one killing so mercilessly.” Unintentionally blunt words was his response, brief and to the point. He was simultaneously answering a question whilst hopefully dodging any plausible suspicions this stranger might have, especially concerning the fact that he was here on account of hunting and not field work.

[caelestiumanimarum]

[caelestiumanimarum]

callahanfull-boreauto-lock

beerandhunts

dearxemmanuel

He doesn't even register when he hits the ground. There is so much more going on inside of him that physical pain means little. His Grace burns, twisting agony through his being. Breathing stops, chest constricts, he closes his eyes and for a moment, for that moment he relives death as he's been doing since the beginning  of his creation.

When he comes to several long minutes later, someone is standing over him, and the first breath he takes sounds like he's  just come up for air after almost drowning. A cough, and the pale frame of his vessel's body begins to shake and tremble against the cold concrete floor. Pale eyes are swimming in tears as he looks around for a moment, as if he's forgotten where he is. And then his gaze meets this person looming so close over him and he blinks.

            "I-I d-don't...I-I d-don't s-s-suppose              you c-could lend m-me a h-hand...              C-Can y-you?" 

[caelestiumanimarum]

What if the MUN had a warning label? What would it say?

[caelestiumanimarum]

[caelestiumanimarum]

i think i would try a lot harder in life if there were levels and experience points

[caelestiumanimarum]

[caelestiumanimarum]

ok so this just hit me

humidifiers fill the air with water molecules from a source of water.

so what if someone filled a humidifier with holy water. would this essentially cleanse a room of all evil?