through heaven's eyes

❝ Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them. ❞Matthew 10:13indie rp blog for the archangel metatron.

[goodshephard]

I was pretty much intending on coming back to Meta fifteen minutes ago, but I've done a bad thing. 

Follow my new, totally and completely unfinished Clarice Starling if you want. 

[goodshephard]

*casually pops back up without explaining my absence* 

[feebsources-deactivated20180620]

Cue the heavy sigh. She can’t reach the top shelf, and all she wants is to buy some cereal.

[goodshephard]

❝ Do you require, ah some...assistance, little one? ❞

Look at those wide, eager eyes; that guileless, idiot's grin. It'd be nearly impossible to mistake that gung-ho, heaven-fresh earnestness for anything even resembling a patronizing tone.  

[aaron-paaul]

[goodshephard]

I AM SORRY I SUCK I'LL RETURN TO FINISH EVERYTHING I OWE INCLUDING THE GIVEAWAY STUFF VERY SOON BUT AS OF NOW I'M ON A SEMI-HIATUS BECAUSE OF STRESS. I WILL UPDATE A COUPLE THREADS BUT PLS BE PATIENT I LOVE YOU THANKS BYE 

[ohohmeo-deactivated20260403]

[companygirlelle]

                 “Meta,”she repeats, twirling the unfamiliar moniker on her tongue.

                             Beautiful. This angel who has welcomed her back to the realm of the living is utterly beautiful. The observation isn’t a superficial one. It’s merely a reflection of the overwhelming goodness that radiates from his presence. 

                                                                                  Foolish girl.

It has only been one complete sunset since the man she’d previously deemed trustworthy had emancipated her scalp from the contours of her forehead. Nevertheless, Meta, her savior, embraced her battered soul with each gentle glance from his blue eyes.

                                Appearances can be deceiving, Elle.

                                                               Not this time.

                Tears. Tears catalyzed by her father’s dismal of her humanity. Tears from the masquerade Sylar had performed for her. They all coil together until she is sobbing freely, grasping Meta and soaking his shirt with the disdainful liquid.

             “Why?”

                           “Why does everyone want to hurt me?”

                                                                                       “Please don’t hurt me.”

[goodshephard]

        There is no hesitation in the reciprocation of the girl's embrace-- he is an angel, after all; accustomed to comforting anyone and everyone.       He folds his arms over her frame securely, rubbing small circles on her       back --- not paying any mind to the tears that wet his t-shirt.     Her first question is one without an answer -- and so Meta remains silent until  her choked plea. 

        ❝ I won't. I won't hurt you. I promise. ❞

[theantagonisticarchive-deactiva]

"All bad men. Re-dee-ma-ble?" If they have a good nature. Surely.

[goodshephard]

❝ Of course. ❞

It's one of the few things he believes doubtlessly. 

[spliffed]

[yipyipyoongi]

[companygirlelle]

A gentle, albeit foreign,touch lingers over the crispy flesh of the decaying woman. It reaps  of comfort and softness….traits that have evaded the unfortunate blonde rotting in the blood streaked sand. The palm of this benevolent creature extinguishes the scars plaguing her pale skin, revealing the beauty that lays underneath. 

                           Elle had been disposed of as if she were merely yesterday’s garbage rather than a breathing essence possessing personality and dreams. Her lover had utilized the pleasures of her body then terminated her existence…deeming her unworthy of even a few pathetic farewell words.

              This prominent betrayal is the initial memory that flutters through Elle’s awakening comprehension. It’s soon replaced by the recognition that an alien touch is caressing her healing form. Definitely not Gabriel, the man who had consumed her mind with silly ideals of love only to slice through the contours of her forehead.

                                     No. This peculiar touch belongs to a person that seemingly cares if she lives or dies. Her blue eyes, stained with anguish and unshed tears, flicker open to greet the mystery. Tranquility. Safety…..all those traits that she’d been denied all her tragic life are suddenly found in the embrace of this handsome stranger.

                        “Oh,” she mutters simply, wincing slightly at the sound of her voice.

                                               “Am I dead?” 

                                                                 “Who are you?”

The inquires escape her coarse lips without her comprehending the denotation of their vocabulary. In her newly adapted deliriousness, she’s merely a flower floating in the nearby ocean, her petals mercilessly plucked by adolescents feigning adulthood.

[goodshephard]

         He holds his hands over her her--waves of heated energy          washing through the girl--burned flesh peeling back to reveal          a pale, healthy complexion, her hair returning to its former gold.                Ah, there she is.                         Eyes flutter open, revealing irises shaded a light sky                         blue. He smiles down at her, removing his hands                        politely.    ❝ Nah, nah. Not anymore, kid. ❞                                               His voice is as gentle as he can manage,                                               lulling her back into this world.                         ❝ I'm Meta. ❞

[goodshephard]

           The hushed whispers of the gently rolling waves against the sand           the shrill, melancholy cries of the gulls that fly wide, lazy circles overhead,           and the breeze that blows in off the water, are slowly but surely washing          away the upset that clings so doggedly to the angel these days.                                  Traveling across the hot sand on barefeet, tennis shoes dangling from                 two curled fingers, he can't help but wonder at the restoring power of                 nature--His Father's creation. It bolsters his lagging faith, if only a little.           Admiring the glow of the beach in the early morning light, he drags his gaze       across the sand--eyes catching on a foreign form in the sand.                         A woman--small and charred beyond recognition--it hurts his heart to look              at her.          The sadness returns, clouding the sun of his conscious, reminding him that it          would never really leave. He stares down at her sadly. 

               Humans are capable of such beauty--such compassion and love--that he                could almost forget what else it is they're capable; but there's always                 something there to remind him. It's a whim ( and its not strictly allowed either ) but he doesn't stifle it--instead, he bends, kneels in the sand, and lays his hands over her chest.                  It takes so little effort to bring them back--                                                                                   He couldn't bring himself to leave her.                

[goodshephard]

Okay, so, my muse for Meta is shakey which really hurts my heartsong because I love Meta and I want to do many things with him and develop him as much as I can because right now he is just a little seedling and ideally I would like him to be a tree. 

Anyway, because I want to develop Meta I had to sit down and think about what it was that was stopping things up and I think the issue is feeling like the majority of my threads aren't propelling his plot forward.

My ultimate goal since I first thought of Meta was for him to fall. It seemed like the truest journey, all things considered, but I haven't actually made any connections with characters (besides Lucifer and Thaddeus) that will allow me to explore that. 

I really, really need to plot some things out if I want to keep my muse. If we have a thread going, I'll probably message you and ask you what you think we can do with our babes, but please, please, please, if you want to write with me APPROACH ME. LIKE THIS. INBOX ME. ADD ME ON SKYPE (avory.bear). ANYTHING. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE. I NEED PLOTS. I WANT PLOTS. I WANT TO WRITE WITH YOU. PLS. 

[dulcissimosagna]

Giveaway winners:

wreathsofrue

thealexdelarge

feurdove

[goodshephard]

goodshephard & dulcissimosagna much follow, much thank giveaway

Soooo, I’ve reached huge landmarks on both of my blogs(100 here and 200 over here), which is INSANE because I never even expected to get a single follower on either account. So, just wow. I can’t even begin to say how grateful I am to get to write with you guys and that you guys want me on your dash like YOW-ZUH. So here is just a little thing to convey my thanks to you darlings.

RULES:

Ya’ gotta be following me (on either account, doesn’t matter which) because that would defeat the purpose of this and it’s just silly, like, come on, for real.

Both likes & reblogs will be counted.

Don’t reblog more than once because I’ll choose via randomizer so it really won’t make a difference. 

Only rp blogs qualify 

Winners will be chosen on December 5

SWAG:

Three people will get

Thirty icons of their character/any fc they like

A mix for a character of their choice on 8tracks

A little promo paragraph on why I think you’re awesome

My love and devotion

[dulcissimosagna]

Shit I totally forgot to reblog this and remind you guys about it and the deadline is supposed to be today. Weeeell, you have like two more hours to reblog it if you want me to consider you for da prizes. 

[goodshephard]

★

★ for an IC fact

                          Meta would only ever consider falling                            for one thing:                                                      L O V E                                                                              Not just the courtly sort either.                                            He’s almost fallen twice for the love of lost brothers.

[lordhelene]