cillian ;

AGENT JUDAS cillian mcgrath ( new roanoke addition ) specialized agent; religious expert former clergy. very redheaded.

[bloodyknuckles-bruisedknees]

types of people

grey- earbuds in, doesn’t talk, disappearing randomly, always busy, tired face, hard outside soft inside.

yellow- bright eyes, cheerful grin, quick winks, tattered converse, warm heart, city parks, close friends.

blue- denim jackets, patterned socks, messy hair, knowing looks, full coffee mug, roaming the sidewalks.

red- angry glare, strong feelings, ripped jeans, combat boots, leather jackets, bruised knuckles, record stores.

brown- deep eyes, full of stories, old soul, sipping tea, soft skin, vintage clothes, thrift shops, flannel shirts.

green- smoothies, splattered jeans, paintbrush in hand, art museums, road trips, pressed flowers.

[statesmanillusionist]

a shifting faith aesthetic for @agent-judas

[flurgburgler]

warm up sketch… t r a s h b o y

[madam-o]

[secret-mind]

[agent-judas-blog]

✿

✿ = buying them flowers

He goes out of his way this time – it’s something nice. The Scribe, though illusive, is the one who’s kind enough to even let him spend this much time in the library. So, of course, he snags a nice little arrangement and leaves it on the main desk.

It isn’t much, but it’s a small thank you if anything.

[morbidfantasy21]

Wrath – horror concept by Juho Laitila

[agent-judas-blog]

✏ teaching them a different language (Annabelle mainly communicates through ASL and I believe Cillian is British?) @agent-annabelle

He’s good with languages -- always has been -- but ASL is different. 

It’s not like French or Latin or Gaelic or Hebrew. It’s not spoken. It’s movements that drag his brain along and he can’t help to think that it’s beautiful, but then he loses his spot and has to have them motion again.

Annabelle, at least, is a wonderful teacher.

She’s patient with him as he sits cross legged on her floor and squints at his long fingers.

“Like this?”

No, Cillian, that’s not your name.

[agent-judas-blog]

✂ demon boyz?

✂ = threatening them

“Can’t you just fuck off?”

Cillian’s voice is hoarse, eyes dead set in an inky black as his legs carry him across the room. He looms over Zed and snatches them by the throat. It’s a harsh move, fueled by anger and a dominance stirring inside of him to be the top dog.

Zed’s little friend was looking like a meal with every growing moment.

So, the Irishman slams them backwards to the wall, weight braced on their throat. His breath is hot against their skin, words hissing from his lips.

“I’m not in the mood.”

[agent-judas-blog]

statesmanillusionist:

“I thought you would’ve figured that out by now, seeing as you know everything about us Sephora employees…” Houdini laughs, though it’s light and amused rather than heckling. “Unless you figured it was some sort of magic I learned from Rae. Though, I’d love to see if that was actually possible..” She’s off on a tangent again, rambling about how different brands hold differently, halfway through Urban Decan and Stila when she realizes. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to go on like that. We’re here, anyway, so good thing I stopped –” There’s a slight flush to her face and Houdini feels mildly mortified she went on a makeup rant with Judas attached to her. She pats his arm before reaching for the door to the small cafe, smiling. 

What would it be like to be held in those arms?

“C’mon, let’s get you caffeinated since I stole what you had earlier.”

He tries to listen to the makeup lingo but fails miserably, smile nervous and excited all at once. Judas, really, doesn’t mind -- though he never had sisters, he’s sure that his cousins would be keen on the chatter about brands. He wonders absentmindedly if Houdini and them would get along.

“Don’t apologize,” he laughs, hands tugging the handle to the coffee shop as he holds the glass door open, “It’s something you get excited about -- maybe I’ll let you cake my face in makeup one day.”

He shuffles in, hand touching the small of her back as he slips beside her -- it’s fleeting, mostly to make sure he doesn’t step on her. This place is packed.

“I like the mocha espressos.”

It’s sheepish.

[agent-judas-blog]

agent-annabelle:

Annabelle senses his turmoil in her sleep. She gets out of her bed and goes to open her door. He’s only a few feet away, so she shuffles towards him, taps him on the shoulder, and starts to sign.

“Can’t sleep? Anything on your mind?”

He’s not great at sign language, really, but he knows the basics -- enough that he sense the concern on her features and nods. His beer is half empty. Cillian rocks on his feet and inhales.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “Just... Too much on my mind. I can’t... I can’t slow down. It’s just so loud, y’know?”

[agent-judas-blog]

o p e n

HE’S NOT IN A GOOD PLACE, NO, NOT AT ALL. LOOK AT HIM, HE ISN’T SMILING OR LAUGHING. HE’S PATHETIC. WORTHLESS. SO, SO TIRED.

Judas just wants to sleep. And yet, here he is, wandering the halls with beer in hand; his eyes are dark with insomnia's detailing. He wants to scream, to tear at his brain and collapse all at once.

[steals-dreams]

[agent-judas-blog]

need to get something off your chest?

come sit & confess with everyone’s favorite ex-father. now tracking the tag ‘roanoke ic-confessions’!

[dargason-under-the-fantasia]

[heyhux]

the father, the son, the holy spirit

[agent-judas-blog]

gaygent:

“Sure, you hindered my progress, but I’m a fuckin’ virus. What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.” It’s a bark, though there’s no bite.

Why are you like this? 

They move away, but refuse to unlock their eyes. What kind of game is this? 

Hey, you opened this can of worms.

Cillian’s laugh is lazy but deep -- his words lilt gently as he speaks.

“Careful,” he warns, “The other half has a big appetite.”

A virus is a good analogy. If anything, a wounded immune system serves the same as a compromised state; Cillian likes that. He’ll remember that next time he explains a possession.