lord of the flies.

one must give value to their existence by behaving as if ones very existence were a work of art.

[astralend]

𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔: one must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star. 𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔: you still have chaos in yourselves.

beelzebub of granblue fantasy. by percival (he/him, 30+) affiliated with @isolaradiale.

ranked ⎛ . . . ⎠ luminous dwarf ❲ 7/24/25 ❳ housed ⎛ . . . ⎠ 302, golden ward.

app₁  beastiary₂ threads₃ rules under readmore!

where is the lightning to lick you with its tongue? 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙯𝙮 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙘𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙?

it's me percival again. i write with indies but group takes priority. there are a lot of religious themes etc. here, but like not in the way you'd think? 18+ i'll make this better later lmao

[crazyprocessedsynth]

"BEELZEBUB," it repeats. Where it was from- originally from, before the Constant, that was a name that religious folk used for a devil. The devil, as far as they were concerned.

It barely resists the impulse to take a step back.

When he rises up, it flinches again and curls into itself ever so slightly. It would like to pretend it was minute, but it was certainly noticable to anyone paying attention. It liked to think itself tough, but here it was bracing for the worst at the slightest provocation.

"DID YOU-" its bites its proverbial tongue. It was better not to confirm that he was the reason the worls fell. Better not to let him know that they caught on to the implication, if there was one. "YOU MEAN YOU'RE HERE TO REBUILD IN HIS STEAD?"

They try very hard not to react to the mention of the Stars, having taken the role of someone created here. Presumably they wouldn't take powers and belongings from people who didn't even have any yet, right?

It glances around, only briefly, at the mention of their surroundings. Yesteryear was... probably intended to be this way. Each area of this secluded world seemed to have a cohesive theme, and "robot ruins" fit Yesteryear like a glove. It stirs an uncomfortable feeling in them, how little the Stars must think of things like them to design it this way.

"I AM.. SAPIENT."

"Alive" was a word they struggled with; the implications of life being organic life, beyond simple animation and computing. A cell is alive, but a virus is not, the distinguishing difference being that the cell can replicate itself. WX-78 can replicate itself, but only with outside materials and tools, like the virus. What did that mean for it?

Where is the line of machine life drawn? Autonomy? Consciousness? How could they even define consciousness, for something inorganic? Is it active processing? Responsiveness?

"I AM ANIMATE."

[astralend]

the homunculus is nervous. that was expected, wasn't it? beelzebub, as commander of the astral armies, had been someone to fear. he commanded respect and instilled terror. the homunculus is not terribly subtle in its reactions, although he knows it is trying to be. it is afraid that he will attack it. did you - at the very least, it is clever. it understands the sort of threat he could be, if he chose. he does not see a reason to be a threat.

then, it calls itself sapient. animate. it does not call itself alive. it asks if he is here to do lucilius' job- he hums, surveys his surroundings again. ❝ you are capable of thinking for yourself. i would think that it would mean that you are alive. ❞

it is true that the areas of spirale seem to be better described as areas from other worlds haphazardly stitched together. beelzebub had displayed power like that before, reviving pandemonium and building the tower of babyl, but he couldn't call it 'creating life.' not like lucilius had been able to.

you mean you're here to rebuild in his stead?

❝ i suppose there is a part of me that holds onto the hope that he will arrive and do that on his own. we were once meant to be a team. ❞ he is, in so many ways, stuck in the past- he knows that ultimately he will need to learn to let that go. he will never properly grow if he holds onto that hope.

❝ but the larger part says that he will not. ❞

[astralend]

well, it was nice when he had been able to battle like that ... but here in spirale, things were different. sometimes, he missed the skies. maybe he will find something like that here ... as it was, the only place he knew of was the sky-strewn isles. fitting, just like the world he once lived in ...

[crazyprocessedsynth]

It flinches, as what was once his wings vanishes on the faint breeze, having no expectation that that would or could happen. Was he merely freeing the sharp bits for use as weapons? Should it run?

If only it had been preparing sooner. This person was probably not any stronger than the Giants, or at the very most the planar bosses. Though... For the latter they were accustomed to having a team to fight them. Only now were they even collecting supplies to make into rudimentary weapons; forget anything on par with a dark sword, if that was even possible for them to make here. They had not (and most likely would not) encountered anything resembling Them in their time here, and that included an utter absence of shadow creatures to harvest nightmare fuel. They- they hated this feeling of helplessness.

A homunculus, he had called them. Was he entirely unfamiliar with robots? ...Even out here, in Yesteryear?

Could this be used to their advantage? Perhaps his impression of what they must be would be beneficial to play into. If he thought he was right, then maybe those daggers will stay put, maybe they would get home safe, just so long as they play along.

Sure, they can lie.

"UM-" Ah, how uncomfortable, usually filler words and stuttering didn't come out of them. "I- YES."

"ARE YOU HERE TO- TO REPAIR THAT. VOID?"

Oh, WX. You haven't the slightest idea.

[astralend]

beelzebub regards the metal homunculus with no small amount of suspicion. his ability to find the hope that came after destruction had dimmed with every place that lucilius neglected. and under the orders of the supreme deity, he continued to destroy and conquer and ... what had come of it? bitterly, he thinks of a certain mortal. a singularity, not unlike himself.

yes, says the machine, and beelzebub has a feeling that it is lying. but he can play along. he has dealt with things far more cunning. a certain serpent comes to mind, and he takes a breath, turning his attention back to the ruins before him.

are you here to repair that void, asks the homunculus, and the dusk god sighs. ❝ i am beelzebub, the singularity of the astral realm, and the true king of the skies- ❞ at least, he's supposed to be. he buried the remains of hesperus for all but one. and more than that, he knows that under the restrictions of the strange gods here, he can't quite prove that. not yet, but soon. soon. the wings reappear and he takes to the sky, illuminated golden by the tinted red of the setting sun. even with most of his powers gone, divinity was still in him- it was what made him.

❝ but, i had a counterpart ... one in charge of rebuilding when worlds fell. a curious researcher, he often neglected his duties in favor of other experiments ... ❞ the memories of lucilius are bitter. this does not look like something that lucilius would have started. rather, it looks like something that he would have abandoned. ❝ he is not here. so it falls upon me to complete his tasks, yes? ❞

❝ but, there are other powers here. you must feel them too- they take from us, leave us questioning ... how sad. this place almost feels as if it is meant to be like this. the memory of something that did not quite work. ❞ he looks back at it with a strange pity- he thinks that the metal homunculus would not be so difficult to break if he wanted. but he doesn't want that. not yet. ❝ but, your existence ... is that not a sign that this realm is beginning to heal on its own? are you not alive? ❞

[crazyprocessedsynth]

As soon as the twig breaks beneath them they freeze, an unnatural stillness formed from stilled hydrolics and ritual, a habit taught by pain. There's a horrible sound, like the screech of steel against steel, before a voice calls out to them.

They have a choice, now- reveal themself to whatever could have made that noise, or run like hell.

A brief moment of consideration over the scraps, branches, and stones they had gathered, and would have to throw down - which would most certainly alert this person to where they were, anyway - and they anxiously opt for the former. It... may be safer, here. If all else failed, there was always option two on the backburner.

A nervous breath, whirr of their fans, and they approach the voice, soon stepping into a clearing as they exit the ruined building.

"DETECTING..." This is not someone it has met. "...SCAN INCONCLUSIVE."

[astralend]

never before had beelzebub encountered a creature quite like this. while he had observed countless experiments by lucilius, the primal beasts were mostly organic. lucilius saw most of them as failures. not that beelzebub had much opinion on the matter; his role back then was to raze worlds to the ground. he had been hesperus, god of the dusk- and for all of the worlds he had seen, all of the ones he had ended ... this was new.

if nothing else, he retained his own creator's curiosity for the unknown. shalem had encouraged her creation to learn, as it would make his existence fuller. she encouraged him to grow- and gaining knowledge was a part of that.

detecting, says the creature in a rather metallic voice. scan inconclusive.

❝ a metal homunculus...? ❞ the machine is not terribly imposing. beelzebub's steel wings dissipate into ash, although the daggers remain. he understands that under the influence of this city, there are times where he will be vulnerable. he knows he has to assess each situation. it almost feels like a battleground.

he's not sure if that's comforting or not. it's familiar, if nothing else. ❝ are you ... scavenging here? ❞ it seems like a sound conclusion. with all of the various items left in the ruined city, a being like this one would likely benefit from the scraps.

❝ it looks like the remains of a war-zone here. ❞ it dawns on him then that perhaps ... what if the gods of this world followed the path of what was meant to be? creation after destruction- ❝ were you made of the remains of this place? a new existence to fill the void left by those before? ❞

[astralend]

@crazyprocessedsynth ⎛ s.c ⎠

the ruins of yesteryear tell a strange story- one that beelzebub feels rather familiar with. had he not been there, leading the astral armies as they laid waste to world after world? when he had descended upon the skies by the will of the supreme deity, he left in his wake ruins just like these. it was the task of the new dawn god to remake the worlds that the dusk god left like this, and yet ... lucilius had not fulfilled his duties. in the end, beelzebub strayed from his task as well. where there once was a quiet wonder and love for all that existed before ⎛ and all that he would have to destroy ⎠ , hatred had settled.

hesperus had fallen to chaos, and beelzebub had risen from his rotted corpse.

so, his journey to yesteryear was rather odd- there was nothing for him in this place, other than the sudden rush of memories of everything that had gone wrong. perhaps he needed a place to reflect on such things. nothing improved without reflecting upon past failures. and if nothing else, beelzebub sought to grow. to change. to regain the power he had before and surpass it.

a sound breaks him from his thoughts. reflex makes him spread his steel wings ⎛ proof of chaos, proof of his pain ⎠ , feathers plucked to use as blades- dulled, but no less deadly- ❝ i know you are there. ❞

[astralend]

here is a small starter call capped at like. 3

[astralend]

⎛ late post ⎠ luminous 7/24/25

regeneration for mild to moderate wounds › regeneration, uncapped.

[giltdove]

The wing flinches, then stills, beneath the hover of the god's hand—wounded and afraid. Yet despite this instinct—this knee-jerk response to hide and brace—the Fallen does not anticipate any harm. Not from Hesperus, who had looked on the baby bird in Riel's hands with such kindness. It only makes sense that he would look upon Riel the very same. And as Hesperus' wings unfurl, he understands why. They are as dark as his own. Riel looks to him in wonder, tears running thin streams down his pale cheeks. The god is like the dusk mortals are said to fear—only he stands as a beacon of gold in the center, like a northern star, burning boldly against the night. The Fallen wonders how, then, Hesperus is so beautiful to him, if they are both the dark the world fears? His golden eyes shut as stars far smaller. But to Hesperus, still, they shine. The god takes his hands; they are much larger than his own, enveloping them with ease. Riel squeezes them despite his agony, not wishing to be let go. ❝ Hesperus, ❞ he softly cries. His four wings arch forth, embracing gently around their combined forms. ❝ I have nothing—nothing to give back. ❞

❝ You would... relieve me despite? ❞ Can he allow himself that? Riel shakes his head in grief, resting his forehead against their joined hands. ❝ You are a god, and I—am merely a mortal tainted. My soul tells me it is wrong. ❞ His lungs shakily draw in wet air, and his gaze defies him by daring upward to seek out Hesperus' face. ❝ So then why... why does my heart want you to take it all away? Would you..? ❞ Please.

[astralend]

of mortal emotions, hesperus had always known more than the other astrals. it had set him apart- and while he had never wanted to admit it, perhaps it made him lonely. perhaps he had flaws in ways he did not understand. but he had been made perfect for the purpose he was meant for, and that- wasn't that the thing that mattered most? for a time, yes, but now...

riel is crying, saying that he is an unworthy mortal soul. hesperus doesn't quite understand, because riel is so very divine. astrals were not known to lay with mortals to create demigods, nor were primal beasts. so what could riel be other than an astral? maybe one raised by mortals to believe such a thing. hesperus made a mental note to remedy that notion. and riel asks the dusk god to take away the pain.

hesperus is a warrior, not a healer, but he is at the pinnacle of the divine. he is clever and resourceful. he wraps his arms around riel, laying his hands upon the small astral's back in the spot between his wings and closes his eyes. it is not so different from what he's done on the battlefield. he breathes.

strangely, like mortals, riel has a body susceptible to paralysis. it is more complex in nature than mortals, but it is still strange. hesperus wonders if this is a good thing or a bad thing in the long run. in the immediate moment, it is a good thing. he knows he will be able to overpower whatever defenses riel's body has. he rubs riel's back gently-

and paralyses the astral's wings. not to the point of restricting their movement entirely, but certainly to the point where they would perhaps feel numb, the growth of new feathers a distant tingling rather than a stabbing pain. ❝ there, ❞ he murmurs, arms still holding riel tight- ❝ in due time, your feathers will regrow and you will regain feeling in your wings, but until then, the pain will not reach you. ❞

he pulls back then, offering a small smile. ❝ i am not a healer, so i cannot regenerate your wings. but any god can bestow a blessing like this to those who are worthy. ❞ and riel is more than worthy. ⎛ it's nice, really, with the ache of his unrequited love for lucilius fading away, replaced by the warmth of riel's admiration. it's better like this, isn't it? ⎠ ❝ i need nothing in return, for you have already given me what i want. your presence with me. the dawn to meet the dusk. i did not realize that the warmth was missing from my ties to the young dusk god before now. ❞ he will no longer wait for lucilius to turn around and look back at him. the dawn god is no longer worthy of it. but riel is. riel can bask in hesperus' perfection for the rest of eternity if he so desires. ❝ you have given me something precious. i hope that one day you will be able to understand the infinite value of it. ❞

[tragicwrit]

JRR TOLKIEN QUOTES. a collection of jrr tolkien's novel quotes. change verbiage and pronouns as needed.

where there's life, there's hope.

there is some good in this world and it's worth fighting for.

the wise speak only of what they know.

false hopes are more dangerous than fears.

courage is found in unlikely places.

moonlight drowns out al but the brightst stars.

i would rather spend one lifetime with you, than face all the ages of this world alone.

i will not say do not weep, for not all tears are evil.

little by little, one travels far.

the world is not in your maps and books. it's out there.

all we have to decide is what to do with the time that is give to us.

it is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life.

no, the journey doesn't end here.

death is just another path, one that we must all take.

all that is gold does not glitter.

not all those who wander are lost.

i would have gone with you to the end.

it is not the strength of the body, but the strength of the spirit.

a man that flies from his fear may find that he has only taken a shortcut to meet it.

faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens.

i would have followed you my brother, my captain, my king.

many that live deserve death. and some that die deserve life.

no man can kill me.

don't go where i can't follow.

do not spoil the wonder with haste!

you can only come to the morning through the shadows.

[giltdove]

Rotting. Rotting. He is rotting, inside and out. It is said that flowers grow from the decay of corpses. White feathers lie scattered around him like these death blossoms, shed from his body, festered by corruption. And the Chosen cries to a god that will no longer answer him, drooped as a bird thrown from the nest to die. Riel does not remember his fall. All he knows is that it was not instant. His molting has prolonged over hours—little remains of his wings now, with black pushing into the gaps left behind. In other spots, there is only bone. Bone and agony as the light in him gradually dims, forsaking him as ice. It swallows him so wholly, he does not sense the approach of someone familiar. And though his voice would normally be of comfort to him, Riel shrinks further into himself, ashamed of whatever fault of his has led him to such failure. ❝ They've... turned me away. ❞ This memory of the temple casting him out—where did it come from? Remembering it feels so sudden. Riel stifles a sob and shakes his head, unsure what to think anymore.

❝ I cannot feel—anything, but pain. ❞

[astralend]

hesperus takes note of the white feathers, of the black ones, and of the exposed bone of the astral's wings. he is not a healer, but he is divine. he is the dusk god, and the dusk goddess before him was knowledgeable of many things. and she encouraged him to learn, too. she encouraged him to grow stronger. it was by shalem's guidance that hesperus became what he was now- the singularity of astral gods, golden and peerless- save one. and that one ... lucilius would have known how to heal, but the dawn god was bitter. hesperus had been doing the work of two on his own for more time than he would want to admit-

maybe he could use what he knew from that to help riel.

❝ what would they cast you out for, riel? ❞ he moves closer, a hand overing over one of the astral's wings. he knows what he is searching for. he is searching for signs of chaos.

of the forces that were dangerous to the astral gods there were few- but chaos was one. capable of killing immortals, a single drop of it could rot even the strongest of bodies. to purge it would require the body itself to change, or the spirit to be strong enough to survive.

luckily, he senses no chaos from riel's body. but something is wrong. ❝ for injuries that you cannot control? for having feathers that are no longer white? mortals are so fearful of the dark- of the setting sun. ❞

then, his own wings unfurl. untouched by chaos, they are not made of steel, but the feathers remain black, as if to make it so that his golden body was the only star in an empty night sky. ❝ look at me, ❞ he says, proud and radiant, ❝ i am hesperus, god of the dusk. my purpose is to observe, to command, to destroy to make way for new creation. i was made by the dusk goddess before me, and i am perfect. ❞

he takes riel's hands- they're soft and much smaller than his. it reminds him how fragile other beings are. so he is gentle. ❝ those who have turned you away, be they mortals, are fools. and if it is a god- understand this. no deity worth following would cast another out for having flaws, or for being different. ❞ because he knows this well. the supreme deity had abandoned the speakers and the young gods. none of them knew if he would ever return.

hesperus had chosen, then, to welcome those he laid low into his arms with endless love.

he loves deeply.

⎛ he loves lucilius, but moreso now he realizes he loves riel. ⎠

❝ there is nothing wrong with you, riel. let me take away your pain. ❞

[astralend]

[astralend]

@giltdove ⎛ event s.c ⎠

hesperus had been known as a kind god- for the things he was meant to do, he always did them out of a deep love for those that existed and those that would come after. he would come with his armies and wrap the frightened beings in his arms ⎛ in the twelve black wings- a mirror of his counterpart's ⎠ to soothe them. to tell them that they had done well and that they were loved. so very loved. hesperus was kind, and he brought unimaginable destruction.

there were those, of course, who feared him. many in fact, for his golden form and black robes, for there were many who associated that with darkness. with evil. he could not always remedy that- but perhaps this time...

it was odd to see riel in such a state of distress. hesperus had first met the small astral ⎛ surely, that was what riel was! ⎠ when he was trying to return a baby bird to its nest. a kind soul that reminded him of everything his counterpart was failing to be- ⎛ he would talk to lucilius about it when they crossed paths again- ⎠ and it had warmed him. riel had looked up at him with wonder and hope, and where his instinct was to bring destruction, he couldn't say no to the soft winged thing asking for his help.

riel's soft wings are different, now. hesperus is uncertain if it is from injury or from something else. and just as the first time they met, he cannot turn away. ❝ you are hurting, ❞ he comes to kneel beside the small astral- ❝ what has caused you such sorrow? ❞

[astralend]

SUBTERFUGE : THE GOLDEN BEING

i know i mentioned 'hesperus' before, but now we really get to explore that.

before he was beelzebub, he was hesperus the dusk god- a clone of the dusk goddess shalem who was made perfect and with a clear purpose. hesperus, god of the dusk, was to raze worlds to the ground so that new life could rise from the ashes. alongside the dawn god lucilius ⎛ but the dawn god before him was sahar- and lucilius existed in the same vein as hesperus. the new gods meant to take the place of the speakers of the supreme god before them- ⎠ they performed the tasks that the supreme god left unattended. because the supreme god had turned his back on the skies. his voice was no longer heard by the speakers, they could no longer spread his word.

but this time, hesperus does not grow bitter. he does not begin to manifest the feelings that drove him to become beelzebub. while he is aware that his counterpart is not quite doing what he was made to do, hesperus simply commands the armies of the astral gods with that single goal. to make way for the new creation.

this time, he makes it out from the battles without chaos' rot. this time, he does not grow steel wings- his are black-feathered and soft. this time, he is perfect, as it should be, and he sees no reason to be anything else.

notes

it's bubs, but he's not an entire jackass. hesperus is a god of destruction but he's also rather kind about it.

he's not seeking to be the new supreme god, because he has his job and thats what he's doing, although it is a little sad that the group project doesn't have all hands on deck ⎛ looking at you, lucilius ⎠

since his personality is never changed by anger and resentment or the chaos that rotted him, he doesn't have that obnoxious superiority complex. he just doesn't understand morals in the way most people do. it's the blue orange mentality.

he's rather approachable actually! and he does remember people he's met, but just in the way that he thinks he met them as he is ⎛ hesperus ⎠ and not as beelzebub ⎛ who doesn't exist, and if anyone was to tell him about beelzebub, he'd be like 'why would i want to be anything but perfect????' oh honey. ⎠

he clearly adores his creator, shalem, and he misses the supreme deity bahamut, and he is waiting for the day there's a little more guidance because it isn't fun just having everyone else fumble with things. but not him, because he's perfect and he serves his purpose. but it would be nice for everyone else!

[giltdove]

❝ Oh, you won't last out here... ❞ Riel kneels to the cries of a hatchling all alone in the dirt, blind and pink and too young for any feathers, its gaping mouth aimed toward an empty, motherless sky. He knows helplessness like this. He has survived it, a fall from the nest—thrust from it not once but twice. And as he scoops the baby bird into his cautious palms, he remembers what it was like to be a creature so fragile. To yearn for life when death is so very near. Riel murmurs a word of healing: the only prayer his God still answers in this foreign world. His hands pass on some much-needed vitality, and the nestling quiets, soothed for the moment. Then, he stands and brings his sights above, knowing its home must not be far. A glance through the branches reveals the bundle of sticks and grass where its siblings softly twitter. If only Riel weren't grounded by his wings, which cannot fly under most circumstances—and certainly not now, when his connection with Uorr is so severed. He considers the height of the tree, as well as the safety of the little passenger in his hands.

❝ I... might be able to climb it without hurting you. I could tuck you into my clothes. ❞

@astralend — starter.

[astralend]

long ago, the supreme deity created the speakers. sahar, god of the dawn, and shalem, goddess of the dusk. he whispered to them the ways of the earth and the skies and the stars, and for a time, all was good. but calamity came and the supreme deity vanished, leaving the speakers to wonder what path to take next. they did not know it at first, but he had left them a gift- the ability to create. and create they did!

from sahar's holy light was born the morning-star, lucilius. clad in white and gold with eyes as blue as the endless skies. from shalem was born the evening-star, hesperus, elegant as his creator and perhaps twice as devoted. while the two were meant to work as a pair, they could not have been more different. lucilius was cold and calculating where hesperus was passionate and physical- one became the lead researcher of the astrals, the other became a military commander- lucilius didn't care about the tasks left by the supreme deity. lucilius didn't care about hesperus.

but hesperus had loved lucilius with a blind devotion. hesperus had destroyed himself for lucilius. beelzebub was born from the anger and resentment and loneliness, because lucilius never looked back. lucilius had watched him writhe in pain, had looked at him with such disdain when he'd dragged himself back half-rotted by chaos. beelzebub hated lucilius and still had been devoted. devoted enough to slay lucilius' greatest creation and deliver to the uncaring astral a new body for him to use. he wished he could carve out that affection from his body and cast it aside like the weakness it was. for a time, he had.

but beelzebub had gained flaws in his attempt to surpass the supreme deity that abandoned the speakers, and hesperus had always been weak for pale hair and soft wings.

❝ you ... are trying to save something so fragile, ❞ he says. there's a soft sort of awe, uncharacteristic of the prideful king of kings he had crafted himself to be, but so very reminiscent of the golden haired warrior of the days of old. ❝ to return it to its nest- ❞ he can easily see where the bird had fallen from. it's a miracle that it survived at all. ❝ can you not fly to it? ❞

[netherseas]

@astralend

❍ "I suppose I should praise you for being able to sense my divinity..." Few did, and she had only recently ascended to the role of Demigod proper as dictated by the prophecy of her golden blood. What struck her as odd was the fact he so pointedly brought it up.

"Is there some particular reason you're curious? It holds little weight in this city, as most of my power has been sapped away."

[astralend]

from the beginning, he had learned to find some sort of comfort in the divine. be it shalem and her warm guidance, or the days where he sat watching lucilius work- ⎛ halcyon days where he was still hesperus. where he loved lucilius so dearly that he would do anything for the other astral. he remembers a certain sadness. a distance between himself and lucilius that he didn't understand.

look at me, he whispers, but lucilius has already left. hesperus stares at the space where the morning star had been and wonders if they'd ever ...

hesperus was golden and perfect and stagnant. beelzebub had changed since then. grown to surpass the limits that shalem had created when she made him. ⎠ ❝ it is the nature of the divine to seek and know each other, ❞ because they were not meant to be lonely things-

not that he was lonely. how could he be? for it was also in the nature of the divine to be worshipped. to be feared or to be loved- but never to be distant. when the supreme deity had left the speakers to wonder about the state of the skies, he had understood. no deity deserved to be the supreme god if they were to turn their backs on those who needed them.

he had fashioned himself as king of kings, the singularity of the astrals, the next supreme deity. yes, he would never be lonely. ❝ power can be taken and it can be gained- divinity is within you. do not think the stars so powerful that they would be able to change what you are at your core. ❞

[astralend]

Wake up Beelzebub! Its time for your weekly workout Unite and Fight (Fire Edition) hope you are saving yourself from the grind

time to put some mayflies in their place!