エーテリアス フォーム

written by roxy

[sssssssim]

[the-queerist-wolf]

Do not mistake my lack of caring for a lack of emotion. My emotions are why I no longer care.

(via jonnyjabberwockey)

[the-farthest-outpost]

I have faced enough pain to handle this. I will destroy myself, and rebuild.

(via the-farthest-outpost)

[dixcnnected]

feeling of nothing

[shestaycold]

My soul has left, i am now only a skeleton with skin walking on the earth

(via littlepacific)

[calamxtous]

Affectionate Starters

Send me one of the following: !

"Scoot over and share the blankets!"

"Do you want some cocoa?"

"Here, you can have my jacket. It's too cold out to be wearing short sleeves."

"I need a hug."

"Your feet are cold!"

"Can I play with your hair?"

"You make a good pillow."

"You know, you have really bad morning breath."

"Are you ticklish?"

"You don't mind sharing a bed, do you?"

"Hold still--! You've got something on your face."

"I really don't get why you're single."

"Can we hold hands? I forgot my gloves."

"Do you want to spend the night?"

"Here, get under my umbrella!"

"I bought this at the store the other day. It reminded me of you."

[calamxtous]

Think of Tempesta as existing almost like a weapon.

A weapon that could walk and talk and look and feel human.

As a man that felt so much during his final human moments, brought to an end by his own hand, he suffers an eternity of never remembering, and never truly feeling.

Imagine there being a haze. You feel something but can’t place a word to it. It’s this nameless thing that, to us, could be love or anger or jealousy or happiness. But he doesn’t understand it. It’s like he’s been blind all his life and is suddenly given sight. He’s stepping around, trying to rewire things in his mind. And almost every time he’s gotten close, the sleight is wiped clean.

Like one does with colors and words, Tempesta almost needs to learn feeling.

As such, things like sarcasm and certain levels of humor are lost on him. He doesn’t quite understand. As for things like lying, Tempesta doesn’t lie. Ever. It’s not how he’s wired.

Things like teasing.. also new to him. He doesn’t know how to tease or flirt, or anything of the kind. So if he does it (say, he says someone is beautiful or that he likes something) it’s because he finds it as something that exists as “true.”

Tempesta does not flatter.

Tempesta does not lie.

[calamxtous]

As I lightly touch upon in my reply in this ask, I feel that his existence as Calamity draws him towards things that are either broken or on the verge of breaking. I don’t think the man strays from things that are questionable or likely to end horribly.

Quite the contrary, I think he seeks it. He wants it, if only to feel alive again. He doesn’t like safe. Safe is deceptive, and he’s not fond of lies (a lingering thing from his past, perhaps~?)

He’s drawn to danger, the beauty in complete and soul-deep destruction. On the flip side, I think the existence of good things perplexes him, makes him want to dig deep, claw at the pure entity, if only to find the dark pool of darkness within. Good things confuse him.

[calamxtous]

.

[venomoustigress-archive]

[/stares because how/why words.]

How…?

She had thought that he had fallen, along with the other demons…  But, no, she knew this man, this being.  How could he, though?  Hadn’t the fairy destroyed their means of revival, back when she had been a demon like him?

(Not fully, as her humanity had clung to her even as her body was forcefully changed.)

                                                    “Tempesta-san…”

Something akin to fear flickered in her gaze, green eyes resting on the male’s form.  But not for him, for another that had made her life into the hell they claimed to live in.  If he was alive, could she be back?  Were they coming after her, to tear her back into the darkness when she may have finally escaped.

[calamxtous]

I don’t do anything without the appropriate amount of development, shipping or otherwise. Any sort of relationship is meant to be built and fleshed out. Let’s do that, and have fun while doing it. There is no need for unnecessary rush. 

I don’t ever go through with ships simply for the sake of shipping. FLUFF is not a must-have for me. No relationship revolves, much less thrives on fluff alone. It’s unrealistic. There will be angst and tears and fights and development. Not just with Tempesta (who definitely needs development to give any trace of a shit about anyone) development is key.

That said, there are a few characters who I can kind of ship him with, if I think about it: 

Minerva 

Mira 

Lamy 

Erza (bc of past!HC)

Milliana (bc of past!HC)

Lucy

Sayla 

No men. I don’t see Tempesta as gay or bi, at all.

[calamxtous]

Hc + clothing/fashion (cause seriously his outfit is on point)

                                meme  ||  accepting

Honestly, I don’t think Tempesta cares much? Like, he’s not the type to be a damn slouch, but he’s probably more comfortable in a jacket than he is in the clothing we last saw him in. Like, I take him more for the type to lurk around in a cloak (like how we first saw him). 

Although the boy would rock a V-neck in modern like no one’s business. Oh god, he’d totally rock a plain T with a vest, or a button-up, sleeves rolled up, with a vest. The man would own it.

I think a lot of his fashion choices have to do with Lamy, since I see them all being her dress-up dolls. At least when they first revive. More so the boys, of course.

Basically, I think what I’m getting at is, that if he owns it, awesome. If it’s in his closet, he’ll wear it. It’s not something he stresses about.

[calamxtous]

❛ brush ❜ from mini as well~

                              meme  || not accepting

New to the flesh that bound him, Tempesta felt eager. Though little crossed the calm exterior, it lay within as deep and stirring, a thing that made his skin crawl with a certain desire. It followed him. A pull that transcended loss of memory, the loss of life. It existed as he did, it was reborn as he was.

A fire that burned his gut, scorched his throat as he breathed.

New to this skin, certainly, but a stranger to the needs of a demon heart he was not. He breathed in, his want like oxygen to deprived lungs.

Whether it was some carnal desire alone that drew him to her, he did not know. Perhaps, even, it was mere existence, his role as Calamity drawing him to something so obviously broken. 

Calm, as he always was, he’d taken her. Her body pressed to the wall behind her, pinned in place by his hips. A deep thing rose in his voice, allowing for drawn out, throaty words. “Minerva,” he breathed, searching the single eye for the self-destruction he’d been drawn to, the anguish so deep it was palpable for one such as he. “Allow me to show you the extent of what it means to be a demon.”

A thumb traced a line down her throat, the soft of her flesh beneath his touch. Her hand palmed his cheek, then slipped into his hair, nails lightly present against his skull, and then hard. It was the only approval he needed, his lips falling over her own.

The woman had a taste for destruction, and more than a simple taste he would give her.

If not more.

[calamxtous]

[ ϟ ]  ||  hell’s passion; sexheadcanon

Okay, so, during one particular skype conversation with Ari, we fleshed out an idea that made quite the lot of sense regarding the citizens of Hell.

Since I have a Marde (who I headcanon/roleplay to be another future alternative to Rogue), I already headcanon that he’s tied to Tartaros. And what I mean by this is that he IS essentially Tartaros. I’ll give the back story to that at some point on his account, but on here I’ll give a brief overview. 

Basically, Marde IS Tartaros; it’s as much a part of him as his own skin. Tartaros as a whole is affected by Marde’s moods. Tartaros is essentially the man’s prison. I headcanon that he can’t really leave HELL. He moves along with Tartaros as one would with their body.

When he’s angered, truly, the lights go out, an effect of a past power, and thorns grow inside and outside their walls. Tartaros changes with their King’s mood. (It’s why he joins the fight last, because the outcome would affect everyone else, his guild as a whole). 

As one might expect, so, too, does Tartaros feel when their King REJOICES, when he INDULGES.

As such, going with the inspiration of this verse’s Dark Court on my Rogue, they need it. They thrive on touch, on the most base desires, as one would expect from demons, not bound by any “heavenly” BOUNDARY. It excites them; more so when their King partakes in his own entertainment. Hell, they’re probably more in need when he’s not yet satisfied, left wanting and needing.

I can see sex, to some extent, being something very much the norm with them. Why say, people like Lamy, seeks physical if they can't have emotional release. Why Kyouka and Sayla sleeping together isn’t surprising in the least, why it’s so damn obvious (though, desire aside, the demons would definitely have a preference, even if not all). They're fucking demons. Abstaining isn't a thing. No one cares, not really, because it's just so normal in their guild.

[calamxtous]

A demon of Tartaros.

Yes, that had felt correct, right to the bone, even with the absence of past memories to confirm the new information. And **new **it was, fresh on his tongue as he tried his name for the first time this life -- Tempesta -- feeling no particular attachment.

Calamity, however, was different, felt like skin, bone, blood. A part of him, a piece falling into place within. Calamity -- each syllable rolling off his tongue, savored.

A certainty, a soul-deep certainty for his existence resided within him, the violent flow of power beneath his skin the only reassurance he needed.

A natural disaster.

Yes, this was also correct.

He was Calamity.

[calamxtous]

❛ brush ❜ ~ from my Mira xD

                               meme  || not accepting

Verse: MODERN

It had been a simple observation, one taken place little after he’d decided to accompany his younger brother to his preferred bar. 

Light eyes landing upon the form of the barmaid, watching her hurried yet determined, well-paced movements. A certain grace lost upon most individuals. Body movement he knew, after all. Long years, away from home, made sure of that. He also knew not to underestimate the power in someone of smaller frame.

A dancer, perhaps…? At one time?Ballet..?Or more refined… martial arts?

It was no surprise, really, how he had gone from completely unoccupied one moment, to hauling a notable amount of weight of boxes with steady hands. He’d offered his help. Just because she could more than likely do all of the heavy lifting, didn’t mean she should. Assistance. Like hell was he going to let her do that on her own when he was built, sculpted to perform most physical tasks.

“Wait!”

The single word made for pause, limbs frozen where ever they resided, as the man turned himself toward her.

A bright smile to rival his own tight-lipped expression, as a hair tie was displayed in the air between them. He watched her, mere moments later, as she circled him, long, delicate fingers sliding up the base of his neck and into his hair. Damned if the foreign touch didn’t feel … nice.

“There~!” 

Bright, like the sun.He was partial to rain, the safety of heavy sheets.

Turning, he assessed her once more, hair newly bound behind him. “Yes, thank you, I suppose.”

[calamxtous]

❛ brush ❜

                                meme  || not accepting

Peculiar.

Yes. Few words could accurately capture that moment, but that one did the trick. He knew this, face forward, eyes cast downward onto the woman, as he observed her, watching as she did whatever it was that she was doing.

Both sitting on the floor in mirrored positions (more due to the height difference than anything else), legs crossed. Her small hands had since buried themselves in his hair, weaving through pale locks, while his own remained crossed in front of his bare chest (another request).

He stared on, perplexed by the look of complete concentration on her small face. Some mumbling followed thereafter, something about analyzing her latest work. Right.

“Are you satisfied?”