#aaetherius

[toestalucia]

"Singularity, the crimson dragon has informed me that today is Christmas, and that it is mandatory to offer gifts. I am afraid I did not have much time to prepare something, so I pray this will be suitable." He, clearly, as no idea what he's doing, and Vyrn very clearly managed to talk him into a very specific gift that benefits the dragon more than the Singularity, but he still offers the fresh Apple Pie up that he had purchased with Vyrn's guidance as a 'suitable' gift for the other.

   There's...a lot of things Gran wants to comment on. How he only now realized it was Christmas Gran could maybe, somewhat, understand. You had to cut the primal's some slack after all. But mandatory? Apple pie? Vyrn… Unfortunately for them both, Gran was very well aware that they probably would have done the exact same thing if they had been in Vyrn's position. Lucifer was awfully easy to do these sort of things to, unlike the primals who had more experience with skydweller customs, not taking advantage of that would be foolish. Still, there's no helping the growing, genuine smile on their lips and warmth in their chest. For how tease-able as he was, Lucifer was just as adorable.

           " It looks amazing ", so, as such, the one who should be rewarded was Lucifer, right? Vyrn better hurry up if he wanted a taste. " You know what else is mandatory ? Eating it together. As the gift-giver, you have to eat it with me, great, right ? "

[elevatumtactica]

@aaetherius​

Continued from Here : X

She continued painting adding a few,details to the Grandcypher on her Pumpkin.Across from her was Lucifer he was painting Vyrn on his there were more pumpkins for them to paint on she enjoyed doing this with him.”The ship looks festive this the first time I heard of Halloween the only holiday we have Ylisse is Easter the celebration of spring this looks like a fun tradition I’m sure my brother would enjoy halloween he’s into pulling pranks.”She looks at his it didn’t look quite like vyrn but he got the colors right knowing Vyrn would love it.”So how’s your coming along?”

[malefacere]

@aaetherius​ uttered: { ♡♡♡♡♡!!!! }

IF YOU LIKE MY BLOG, SEND ME "♡" || accepting

I’m just gonna lay across your lap & cry a lil.  Like Noiseeeeeeee you have no idea how much I admire you.  This means so much to me.  Aaaaaaaaaaa

[shiningstages]

@aaetherius | starter call!

          Amethyst was strong. She prided herself on her strengths, both physical and mental, and thought herself a great leader when she needed to be one. Her training had certainly helped her pull her weight in the crew, and being with them just made her stronger, feeling the best she ever had. And yet she knew she still had her weaknesses, or that one slip up could negate all of her strengths entirely. So she tried her best to prepare herself for any situation that she could face, even against foes or monsters she had never met before, just to make sure to slim the chances of failure.

          Yet failure was also a part of learning. And she could be a strong leader while facing failure as well.

          Perhaps she was maybe too impulsive as the windstorm bore down on them, Prunella working both support and protection duty while caring for an injured woman, and Amethyst having to switch between both offense and defense because of that. If Prunella got hit badly with any attacks, it was simply game over for everything they were trying to accomplish at the current moment, but Amethyst was starting to get worse for wear when taking so many hits and near misses from this Rock Winger. The thought of a full retreat crossed her mind, yet that would mean leading it straight towards the village below, and they were tasked to stop this thing’s kidnapping of the people. But if they both went on the offensive, one slip up could mean the end of the villager’s life. Too many thoughts flashed across the young woman’s mind before she finally came to the first decision that made the most sense. Whether it was a smart decision or not...She’d never know, if she slipped up.

          A fire arrow soared true and landed on a clump of the massive bird’s feathers, briefly setting part of it ablaze as Amethyst screamed at Prunella to run. That they couldn’t just wait for the crew to find the strongest part of the storm where they were at; that Prunella had to both get the villager to complete safety and point all the crew members she could find in the right direction towards the fight. She didn’t mention the fearful thought that that meant she would be fighting on her own; that she was basically just a worn out distraction until reinforcements arrived, and that if something drastic happened that she could be as good as dead. Even if she thought it, and even if Prunella thought it, neither of them spoke a word on it. They both knew she was strong enough to last, or they at least believed and prayed in the belief that she was. And while Prunella did hesitate, visibly distraught by this order, barked out with fake confidence and forced smile by her best friend, she stated a simple “Stay safe.” before she bolted down the mountain. Amethyst couldn’t help but feel relieved by her quick acceptance, but she couldn’t relax if she didn’t want her potentially last exchange with her to be so laced with sad undertones, gaining the giant bird’s full attention with a couple more fire arrows, smelling the scorched feathers and flesh on the wind. What felt like forever was probably only a few moments, playing a cat and mouse game by hiding behind trees or rocks so as to not get clawed or forced over the edge, shooting arrow after arrow to hopefully weaken or blind it. Going for close-range attacks was just far too dangerous with the winds this thing could pick up, but Amethyst also only had so much ammo, so it was just a matter of time before ---

          Her last arrow. She felt the empty air in her quiver with one hand, while the other shook as it gripped her bow and last fateful tool. Her free hand went to steady herself against the tree she crouched behind, before a terrible cut of wind made the towering plant quiver and snap in multiple places, getting pierced and scratched up by little splinters while narrowly avoiding life-threatening impalement. She was already littered with slices across her skin; what was a couple more to add onto it? Not much in her mind, but she knew her body was lagging, and she wheezed while she ran for more cover, coughing up whatever pain her body wanted to reject. And yet there’s that fateful slip when she does it, this battle of time finally reaching the end as a glacial gust caught Amethyst before she could dive behind a protruding rock formation. Her weightlessness in the moment was both breathtaking yet awakening, not wanting to go out without a bang, quick-scoping the fearsome beast with that last arrow and firing. She wonders if it was her newfound height, or maybe Tiamat or any other primal of wind had her side, that made the arrow pierce one of the rock winger’s eyes, it’s terrible screech in pain popping her eardrums. Though, if Amethyst was to be a little cocky for the last time, then she’d admit she was great with chance shots like that.

          Then, as quickly as that little moment of celebration filled her, the winds sent her over the cliff and plummeting to the ground. Her mind screamed at her to try and grab a ledge or a tree if she could attempt it; even if her arm popped out of it’s socket or got broken or impaled, that was better than going splat or getting impaled in the chest. Her instincts at least told her to look for water, or to flatten herself out, or to just find anything that would cushion or slow her fall. But her thoughts were clouded with her little victory, and with fatigue in the face of her demise. If anything, she went out being as strong as she could be, and doing her duty of helping those in need. Even if regrets rose up in her, at least there was that...

          Then darkness fell over her as she shut her eyes. 

          By the time she was finally roused to consciousness, she was greeted with a warmth unlike any other. The gentle nature of the presence could almost lull her back to sleep, save for the aching pain she felt in her body, and the nagging sensation in the back of her mind that there was something wrong with feeling so comforted in this moment. Almost immediately, that thought mixes both with reborn regret and fear, eyebrows furrowing as her eyes shot open, needing to know her surroundings before she could confirm any sour suspicions. Yet she’s neither put off nor eased to find herself in unfamiliar territory, squinting as rain sounds protruded her mind, while the presence of cloth draped over her is registered, as well as her head resting on the lap of…

          Captain had said his name once. She felt herself finally ease under his presence, his brief biography flashing through her mind and making her wonder how exactly he had gotten here. Or, rather, how he got them both here; to wherever they were now, for now his being was the only thing that caught her eye. “Sir,” her voice is extremely hoarse, coughing into his chest before continuing, hands clutching at her chest, “how did...what...where are we?” There’s this heaving in her chest and breathless defeat in her voice when she finally gets out a question, a wave of fatigue riding on the growing ache through her body, eyes instinctively shutting tight before she forced them open again, though now in a groggy, half-lidded form.

[unladylikc]

｢ @aaetherius​​ ｣ — writes:

{ 🍌 and 🍇! }

still accepting → fruity headcanon prompts !!

🍌  :    is my muse inclined to help others,  or will they only do it when it benefits them,  if at all?  what makes them this way?  has it ever gotten them into trouble,  or inconvenienced them?

Vivian takes her role as the ‘manly heroine of justice’ very seriously, so yes, she will help others out, even if it doesn’t benefit her. Naturally, this is partly due to her being kind at heart and her wanting to be admired for her valiance, but either way, she is not the type to stand idly by while someone is getting attacked. Of course, more often than not, this leads to sheer recklessness on her part, causing her to get injured as a consequence.

Why, like with Lancelot, she isn’t above shielding a person from a devastating blow, which usually ends up backfiring on her; still, it’s not something she’ll regret, no matter how much pain she has to ultimately undergo. Basically, though, she won’t hesitate to protect others, yet at the same time, if it’s someone she despises on a contemptible level, she might just leave them to fend for themself.

Honestly, despite how morally righteous she is, Vivian does have a petty love for revenge; therefore, she will gladly watch karma be enacted upon those she personally believes aren’t deserving of kindness.

🍇  :    how would my muse describe their childhood?  how much has it impacted the person they are now,  or will become as an adult?  around what age did they or will they start to mature,  and why?  do they wish to go back to their days as a child,  or have they embraced adulthood?  

To put it simply, Vivian would describe her childhood as a confusing and lonely period of her life. Honestly, growing up, she always struggled to make sense of the world as a young, autistic girl, meaning it was a constant process of adapting. Due to the fact she could never communicate well with others or make that many friends, Vivian always felt like the black sheep of her family, especially since unlike her older sister, she had always caused problems by being herself.

Not only were there instances where she would pass out after being forced into clothes, her surroundings often proved overwhelming, to the point where she remembered frequently having meltdowns. Despite it all, however, her parents always coddled her, meaning Vivian constantly had her way if she threw a tantrum or begun crying.

The older she became, however, the less it stopped working. Why, somewhere along the way, her mother grew more meanspirited and her siblings made it no secret she found her embarassing to be around, which efffectively changed her; in fact, upon turning thirteen, she stopped resorting to temper tantrums altogether and just rebelled by dressing less femininely.

Though she hadn’t completely matured by then, Vivian still became a bit more diginified, but had a tough time, being percieved in a postive light by her peers, because she was eccentric and wierd; either way, her childhood ended up having such a huge impact on her, it ultimately made her personality the way it is now. Still, despite this being the case, she doesn’t wish to go back, because as a kid, she was definitely that pathetic little crybaby who heavily relied on her mommy.

That being said, however, she hasn’t quite embraced adulthood yet. Why, after puberty, Vivian feels like things have only just gone south from there, especially considering she now has to deal with menstruation, hypersexuality, and her body having needs she could really do without. Seriously, though, she could honestly stand to be less horny all the time when time and time again, actual people keep disappointing her.

[ichorwinged]

@aaetherius​ / Starter Call

✴ ;

  The sun’s brilliant rays begin to climb into the horizon, the night sky turning into the early morning.  Orange, yellow, and gold begin to take over the inky black as he watches it in a rare moment of simply enjoying the sight.  

    It’s been too long since he’s slept so he’ll blame it on that.

     Even the lab he was cooped up in suddenly felt stuffy and made him seek out one of the high points of Canaan.  An old gazebo became his makeshift workplace and he simply worked by candlelight as he scribbled his rambling notes into proper sentences.  His thoughts were always racing faster than he could record them much to his annoyance.  Talking about them was also a waste of time since most simply stare as if he spoke in an alien language.  

      Belial was off doing his own tasks which left him alone most of the time with only his musings--but it falls silent as he watches the colors dance and blend into each other.  

      It’s a rare moment of silence.  

    The fluttering of wings sound behind him but he doesn’t take his eyes off the sky.  

     “Did you retrieve the items I needed?”

[undergrounclmafia]

➤     *     @aaetherius​     ... 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘      「  𝑲𝑬𝑵𝑲𝑶𝑵𝑬  」  !

He’s more than aware of all the stares he was receiving and the babble of whispers that filled the air upon his arrival. Oddly enough, what he was stressed out the most about, was the fact that he will be dripping everywhere in the nicely cleaned cafe. It had started storming out of nowhere, and while he was usually in tuned with the weather, Mother Nature was relentless and liked to take you by surprise. So, unfortunately, he had gotten caught by the downpour.

Kenny does his best to wipe his booted feet on the door mat, grimacing behind his mask at the mud that he was tracking in. He felt a surge of intense anxiety, and the lenses of his gas mask fog up with his quickened breath. His attempt to clean himself off at least minimized the dirt, which he was already going to clean up once he dries up enough, before he makes his way to the register.

「     Smallest coffee, please,     」       he requests, voice quiet as he dug around in his pockets for a few bills. Truth be told, Kenkone didn’t care for the drink. But he wanted to sit out the storm for as long as they would allow him to. Of course, as a street rat, he was mentally prepared to be kicked out despite being a paying patron — maybe. A whimper escapes him when he realizes he is short; he must have used more money than he had thought to feed the stray cat in the alleyway.          「     Ah ... Never ... Never mind. I’m sorry, for the trouble.     」

Looking over at the trail of foot steps he left behind, he raised a hand and made a scrubbing motion.             「     Rag? I clean ... I can clean up the mess on my way out ... !     」 

[martialsgod]

A scrap collector is all Xie Lian presents himself before this stranger. Although, nothing of anything remotely divine or divine-inclined would escape a Heavenly Official’s eyes, Xie Lian doesn’t make any comments. Although curious, very much so, he chooses to still willingly smile as though oblivious, arms still outstretched, his bamboo hat slung low behind his back. “Are you perhaps interested to see any tricks performed? I can do quite a number of fascinating things.” By now his voice is trained in grabbing the attention of the public. Here, Xie Lian, although a Heavenly Official and a Martial God, he wears nothing but his usual plain, white robes, presenting as nothing more than a street performer. It’s nothing out of the usual for him to seek any currency or wares that he can, and busking just so happens to be something he’s adapted to. Although there is the pressing suspicion, Xie Lian tucks it away for now. “If you have any donations you can provide in return to see something spectacular, it’d be much appreciated.”

@aaetherius​ 

[caelumsaltator]

Anonymous wished for:  🌈 (Take this as a chance to talk about whoever you want!) || fandom positivity - Accepting!

HEY NOISE ( @aaetherius​ / @caeruleis​ ), C’MERE FOR A SECOND.

You’ve been around for a while, across from a few blogs we’ve both had. I first want to say thank you. Thank you for being an inspiration, and for allowing me to test out my writing skills with you. No matter the thread or the muses, we always vibe and tend to write a lot. And I love that! I love all the information and effort you’ve put into your characters, both present and past -- canon and ocs. They’re so enjoyable to read, and I can’t help but adore them with each interaction I see. It’s clear to see how much you care about them, and how much you take the time to think about their actions. I’d rant about them all, but I got smooth brain. ;^; Or, as you know, I would.

I know I’ve said this in the past, but thank you for pulling me into GBF’s RP scene. Fully, and not with just Kamui. You’re such an enabler, y’know, hahah! Seriously, though, I think of you as a good friend of mine and would never turn down the chance to write or talk with you. <3

Also, if y’all aren’t following Noise’s blogs, do it. I love them very much and they’re too good for this earth.

[cxffexngel]

[ @aaetherius​ ]

Lucifer's tattered boots slosh through the mud and dew-coated grass as he trudges through the dreary forest. Thick droplets of water roll off of the damp leaves, and plop loudly into the puddles nestled beneath the tall, imposing trees. Yet, despite the lush vegetation and vibrant flowers covering every inch of land he can see, it's eerily quiet. Aside from the occasional splash from the residue of the storm that had rolled through the town that afternoon, there's not a single sound to keep him company in the overwhelming darkness that prevails other than his own careful breaths. Light, too, is scarce at best. The thick canopy created by the trees looming overhead almost completely blocks out the light cast by the stars and gleaming moon lurking somewhere beyond their thorny arms. But he doesn't struggle to find his footing, nor does the endless darkness seem to faze him. No, instead, he moves with the grace and certainty that only those who feel at home in the night posses. And, of course he does--he has to, or he would have lost his life years ago. After all, the creatures he hunts are most active in the dead of night when the world is still, and the cacophony of one's heartbeat is the only melody they can hope to hear in hours. And, even then, that song often comes with a price--vampires have far better hearing than your average person, and one misstep or miscalculated breath can be the difference between life and death. He would know, he's seen more than his fair share of acquaintances fall victim to fear or overconfidence. It never gets easier with time, and the heaviness of their loss will never fail to haunt him, but, perhaps, his bleeding heart is what makes him the best of the best. To protect others, strangers even, there's little he wouldn't do. Which was why, now, he's willing to go so far on his own despite the fact that the locals had urged him to wait for the other to arrive before he left in search of the vampire that had been supposedly targeting their village. If he can subdue the killer without others getting involved he might be able to prevent further casualties. Perhaps that way of thinking if flawed or, perhaps, his bleeding heart is a weakness rather than an asset.

Against the dark browns and deep greens of the forest, his bright, piercing, blue eyes stand out as he walks without making a single sound. His heart is calm and his breathing even. When he inhales against the damp, night air he can faintly smell the bitter aroma of iron and salt, and his lips curve downwards at the all too familiar scent. If he stops, and listens he can hair a vague, cracking sound. It's nearly enough to make his heart sink into his stomach, but he's been in this line of work for years now, and he's grown accustom to the grotesque scenery that often comes with it. All he can do is simply hope he's not too late--that there's even the ghost of a chance that he might be able to protect someone; to keep them safe. His fingers curl about the hilt of the silver knife clutched within his calloused palm--its blade almost glowing in the low light that manages to slip between the treetops as he approaches the source of the scent and sounds he's been following since he stepped foot into the forest. Silently, he presses his back to the body of a tree, and inhales deeply, briefly closes his eyes before they flutter open once more as he cranes his neck around the creaking branches and dancing leaves sheltering him from view. And through the tiny gaps, he can see a figure nestled amongst the flowers not far from him.

In the moonlight spilling in between long, spiny, branches the stranger's crimson eyes are utterly breathtaking, and just as striking as the bright red splotches of blood staining the ground and his hands. Against his black attire, the startling scarlet is almost enough to make Lucifer's heart stop. He swallows thickly around the lump that's formed at the base of his throat as his gaze travels over the other's lean figure and unruly, auburn locks that somehow frame his handsome face perfectly. And, oh, Lucifer knows he's staring, but that realization doesn't stop the ache that tugs at his chest when he notices where the blood coating the other's skin leads. It doesn't lead to a person, instead it guides his attention to the body of an animal that's likely native to these woods. No, now that he looks, there's not a person in sight, or even a set of footprints that would have been left behind in the grime and mud if someone had come through her willingly or forcibly. He clutches the knife in his hand a bit tighter. Had he made a mistake? No, he's certain he had followed the trail that had lead out of the village.

But he's also equally as certain, in that moment, that the vampire before him right now isn't the one who had taken and killed the people missing from the village. With an abundant lack of self preservation, Lucifer silently sheaths the knife into the holster hooked around his thigh, and steps into the opening. "You--" he pauses as he comes into the flittering starlight, and meets the other's dazzling gaze. He feels the air drain from his lungs, and his heart, certainly, stops. "You're beautiful..." he whispers into the silent night before he catches himself, and yanks himself out of his own starstruck trance by clearing his throat, and exhaling while trying to push aside the words he had just muttered. "You...aren't the vampire that attacked the village," he forces out carefully. It's a statement rather than a question--there's not even an inkling of doubt in his voice, or the faintest hint of fear in the manner he carries himself.

         Night like rain, of stars and the unknown - Sandalphon has soundlessly caught yet another of those deer that would never sense an inch of his presence when wings flared and flapped as silent as the quietest drawn out exhale possible. Like an owl’s quiet praying, it was all too fast, the deer was done for the very moment Sandalphon had locked his focus on it, poor thing that did never stand a chance nor even able to run, perhaps not even think about surviving the attack nor given a second to process. It was better that way, no pain, not a cry, just the slight crunch of leaves when heeled boots met dirt and the body had collapsed as the Vampire wasted no time to drain until the last drop of blood from it’s victim before needing to carry it somewhere. Sandalphon never was a messy eater, he’d hate to later stink and that alert anyone within range. It’d make hunters’s job easier and Sandalphon, as much as he loved the adrenaline that surged when given chase, found it best for it to not carry on many risks. Get too close and they’d drop like flies before he’d even see the true killer, get too far and they’d be safe but still at some unknown danger the Vampire himself had been investigating within the shadows, forecasts of hell and catastrophe he could not understand but had the tug of his rotten heart to carry out without help. It was better that way. Take the blame, be seen as a monster, push away whoever dares lend a hand. they all died anyways. Even now, he can smell that scent of a living despise having concealed his tracks as much as he could - heels with the sole in unrecognizable shapes so they’d easily be buried in dirt, wings that made no sound despise flight coming barely handy in the thickness of dense forests, able to maneuver with inhuman speeds that gave him the title of the quickest death among the mortals, despise his killing count in truth being short, but people said otherwise. The beautiful, shining body of the deer almost intact, as if it has been caught in slumber tenderly cradled within the strong, exposed arms of the Vampire as he feed on it, only lips stained in red as bright as the eyes of the killer that under the moonlight reflected light as if they were two more stars, ones that fell from the skies to set fire to these very forests he roams around, shrouded within a cloak that for now has been discarded as it’s use only is found at daylight. Only a backless vest covered him, finger less gloves made of leather that quickly could be cleaned should they be stained and clear his tracks, and leggings that facilities movement, with leathery boots as black as the night, shining under the gaze of the moon that filters shyly from the leaves that mourn yet another departed one.


         He knew he had been followed, the scent was familiar. A hunter. The silver from that dagger sheathed was a known feeling that surged the faintest spark in his spine, knowing what would befall should it come in contact with cold skin. But Sandalphon never lets it get to him, never lets that lingering fear and instinct to survive stain much actions. He still had to find a suitable burial, he had to carry that Deer somewhere to thank it’s sacrifice and not let the villagers get the wrong idea. It was best for them to just believe he’s there for the people, and not their livestock or fauna. That’d surely call for more hunters, and deprive him of the only source he’s chosen to have, which little quelled that deep hunger from having tasted human blood decades ago, and the taste of it taunting him, eliciting the littlest wish to claw his way into a person’s body to have that rich taste again, gain even more strength that an animal’s blood gave him. But he rebels against it, reminds himself those looks of fear, the screams, the slaughter he’s capable of to twists himself in the agony it brings. And the thought are shoved down again, in order to focus on the hunter he feels close, wings lowered as they sprawl against an almost out of a fairytale bed of Begonias, Ferns and Hydrangeas, bothering their petals and getting messy with them as they twitch, a sign that’s he’s taken notice of the hunter’s presence, yet awaits his move. It’d end swiftly, the hand that’s shadowed by the Deer’s body reaching into leathered hidden pockets where feathers coated in light metal, daggers of sort the Vampire had forged from his own shed plumes served as weapons to fend off any intrusive soul that dared to face him, keep them at bay.

           Yet little decades of experience ever prepared Sandalphon from what’s about to come. Hair as light as the moon’s own shine, bangs that sway almost too slowly while his piercing glare intensified as the frown knits tighter as teeth bare, bloody as they are, as a warning. But the Hunter’s reckless, probably would have died right then and there when having stepped out that large bark of the tree had it been any other Vampire, but it’s Sandalphon. One of those rare cases where the Vampire retained some humanity, refused to feed on people unless they had perished from natural causes such as accidents that didn’t involve them, or sickness where the Vampire played a great role to purge those ailments people haven’t found cures for, as they are immune to everything but three things as of known for now. And he was about to warn off the man before him as flowers crush under worn boots and the desperate look on the man, of eyes as bright as the very skies he can’t look directly at when the sun mocks the Vampire to burn - first it was the beautiful part - He’s not. He’s a monster, he’s an predator of the shadows that feed on those that were at the top, and brought them down to let them know their mortality whereas Sandalphon could live forever if he survived enough. that’s not beautiful, there’s no grace on the droplets that slowly caress his jaw staining it faint red and orange as it falls from his chin into the flawless fur of his caught, long dead prey. It bristles his feathers with deep, tired rage and was almost ready to refute it, to snap and spout poison at the man that dared enter where he’s settled - But oh, nothing ever, no experience in his years of hunting had readied Sandalphon for what was to come, and it was no death, no pain, not arrow that’d get stuck on his chest until he’d pluck it off with minimal force and a wince that ached for a few days, he’d heal much faster if only having feed on a person which refuses on. ‘’ What… ‘’ Oh and the hunter is right. He’s not here for the people, he’s not hunting them. He’s protecting them and taking blames for those that disappeared when onlookers caught the glimpse of his red eyes. The true culprit having red eyes as well, broader and with wings that easily made the mistake of others pinned on him. and the Vampire shouldered it with pride anyways, it helped, in a way. Keeping people away from him, keeping any curious person as far from danger as possible, for them to take as many precautions needed - and yet.

         And yet? This man immediately did not think the same. It made his chest ache painfully, and Sandalphon’s instinct to survive, that distrust that’s been feeding on tragedy ever since the beginning acting first before even daring to reach out. With the dead animal on his arm firmly pressed to his chest, heavy wings lift and flare with all of their might as they cloud the dim light of the moon under the grand shadow of a demon, making the Vampire bigger to any that laid eyes on him as red eyes glared down the tall man. ‘’ Whatever you are daring to do, don’t. Give me chase if you dare, Hunter, whether you say it’s true or not, it doesn’t matter! ‘’ Sultry tones deep from his throat taunts, the ghost of a daring chuckle reverberating as an echo that bounces off wood and leaves, bloodied fangs giving away the false smile that Sandalphon manages as wings soundlessly flaps with a storm of wind knocking back light rubble off the ground, messing the flowers under and the dirt serving as smokescreen as the Vampire is lost from sight. No, he didn’t need help, he’d not let this man uncover the truth that easily if it somehow would lead the other to his death, that would certainly had been tonight had he found the wrong Vampire. It was better to give him a chance, and Sandalphon did not want to get another false kill on his list. And so, along his escape, the strong, bladed feathers of his pockets show into the hunter’s direction, none of all 6 of them even gracing the man at all, nor cutting. Another warning to tell him to not follow him.Upon contact where they fall, the weaponized plumes vanish in ashes, as if sun had touched them - good for keeping any kind of trace left behind and only the evidence of a small hole as vestiges.

[cirocchio]

What is your greatest strength as a person? & In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how?

What is your greatest strength as a person?

‘Um.’ She’s genuinely at a loss with this question. Never considered herself a strong person, in any way. Not at all in the physical sense, and not in terms of bravery, intelligence, wisdom -- none of those traits apply to her. What is her greatest strength? If she has any qualities, they’re average. ‘I’m, uh. I’m... er... honest, I... suppose?’ Which is just as easily a weakness; as people so often observe. Perhaps that’s why it comes to mind -- because it’s mentioned so often by other people.

Her answer doesn’t sound very confident, in any case.

In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how?

‘I try to be nice to people. I don’t w-want to offend anyone -- it happens, sometimes, w-without meaning to. But, uh, I try to be polite, at least. And, w-well, it’s easier for me to, listen, instead of talk. S-so I think that means, that I’m a little distant. But I don’t really keep secrets or anything. I just don’t, eh, say that much. Sometimes, I’m scared of people, or think they will hurt me. So I, um, wait and see -- until I’m sure that they’re also being nice to me. It’s -- it’s not easy to figure it out, actually, ha, ha...’ An awkward, dry laugh. It happens quite often that her initial impression of someone is -- wrong. ‘...Well, and, I guess I’m a little more eh, relaxed, around friends.’

[elevatumtactica]

@aaetherius​

Continued from Here: X

It seemed her request,made him confused but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it. He just didn’t understand what the position of best man is including a wedding to him it was foreign to him.She didn’t mind explaining it to him but she was happy that he’s willing to help her it seemed he was mostly doing it for her since she did asked him and she can understand why he didn’t trust Belial because Sandalophon turned her down due to his hatred of him.”Thank you Lucifer I’m sure Belial would be happy to know that you’re going to be his best man and it’s okay I’ll be happy to explain it to you.To start off the position of best man means you’re in charge of the bachelor’s party but you’re his right hand man making sure everything goes well and a wedding is a ceremony to celebrate the love of two people who are spending their entire lives together forever I hope that makes sense.”

[storyteller-prince]

@aaetherius​ ♥’d for djeeta!

Something about watching the night sky made the captain yawn even though all she was doing was watching it. It was odd even though she saw this view almost every night, especially at such a high altitude, it never bore her. Maybe it was because what it represented or just the fact that it was so quiet and accompanied her on many nights like this one where she couldn’t sleep.

Today was one of her sleepless nights and what exactly kept her up? Anything. Everything. Since she knew it was late at night, she wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up. 

[aaternum-a]

@aaetherius​ said, “bunnies can’t be gods!”

Slipping through the door of the last patron was an unlikely, fluffy customer, darting under the cover the shops tables. The young rabbit curiously looking around until the clatter of metal approaching the door stilled them. The sounds of distant panting and yells grew ever closer until she’d ran up towards one of the windows. And she’s an utter mess. Silver tresses spun sticking up wildly around her flushed canvas as she holds far too many belongings within her clumsy sweaty palms. A small table was tucked underneath her arm and balanced on one knee with an open cage dangling around two of her digits. Her other arm was preoccupied in balancing a foldable chair over her head. Her voice is muffled and strained, physique unused to the labor in running with the number of items she had. Right cheek pressed against the cool glass, she squints peering inside, ill aware of the few patrons casting a weary glance towards her.

“   Hey! Someone stop that deity in there!   ”

[ichorwinged]

@aaetherius​ sent:  ☮ = waking them up after a nightmare

✴ ;  

    It’s the same dream again.  Whispers of a language he didn’t quite understand echo out in the dark and surround him with unknown knowledge he wasn’t meant to have.  A gaping chasm that only mirrored how he felt on the inside constantly, one that could never fill up no matter what he does.  

    And while he knows that he will never be able to fulfill that desire, he still tries anyway.  He is the conductor of his finale, but he knows it wouldn’t do anything in the end--

    As he takes a step forward on that path that blends with the darkness he falls into the chasm, and continues forever.  Cursed with knowledge not meant for him, and cursed with knowing that he will never be complete, the fissure becomes endless as it drowns him in darkness.  

    But while falling, that glimmer of light appears--  

    And suddenly he can breathe again. 

    His eyes opens wildly, the other’s face so like his, staring back at him in an emotion he could never hope to emulate.  

    Concern.  Worry.  

    “Luci...fer?”  His voice is unsure, and unlike his normal arrogance.  He feels calloused hands grip his shoulder until he sits up on his own.  He was sure he fell asleep in his lab, but the soft mattress under him says otherwise.  Finally. a heavy sigh is released as he lets himself breathe, almost comforted knowing that it was Lucifer who awoke him, and not anyone else.  

    “...When did you return?”

[consequor]

@aaetherius​  🗲  Starter call

Call me by Shinedown

Ja’far’s glancing off into the distance but there’s a calm look in his eyes, something so serene. “I finally put it all together, nothing really lasts forever.”