mother to none.

fandomless angel oc. private.  written by cat.

[serepa]

i remade my theme!! does it look ok?? /)A(\

[serepa]

                         lady kafziel ; 

                                    she who presides over the death of kings.

[serepa]

debates making myself a new theme instead of working on drafts

[notbecauseofvictories]

entelecheia — in the philosophy of Aristotle, the condition of a thing whose essence is fully realized [x]

[tenderpotter]

#OKAY BUT IF THIS IS AN ANGEL—IF THEIR HALOS ARE THE UNFLAWED AND FULLY REALIZED CIRCLE#THAT MEANS THAT IN FALLING—IN BECOMING DEMONIC#THE CIRCLE CRACKS#THE DEMON’S HORNS ARE THE VESTIGIAL HALO#A CONSTANT SYMBOL AND REMINDER OF THEIR FLAWED-NESS; THEIR INCOMPLETENESS#I’M!!!!! (notbecauseofvictories)

[serepa]

        ❝ ...These devices are rather confusing. ❞

[xmagizoologist-deactivated20150]

she is not to fade like us, her light will never dim, her glow never extinguish. and when she does die, humanity will find that there is one extra star in the sky that night.

she paints the world with that smile of hers, and instantly everything else is worthless. (via seavoiced)

[serepa]

{ slythievius }

         ❝ Is that wise? ❞ 

[serepa]

{ little one }:

    That elicits something of a gracious rise of      a hand towards her face , brushing back     her own hair in response . She did not hear     many compliments over her eyes , as most     would think them too terrifying to think of as     a beautiful attribute to detail . No , the prophet     did not hear anything of that sort so often .                  ”        That … makes sense . They usually                            say my eyes … are scary … like they                            know too much … see too much …                ”

                   ❝ That is the sad truth of this world: The most                        beautiful things are the ones hurt or broken                        by others, for humans would rather destroy                        than try to understand. Humans fear what they                        cannot understand –– or that which is different. ❞

              And there comes a small dip of her dark head, another ghost of a                smile flickering across dark features. The Archangel had been around               long enough to learn that this sad truth (and, while at first she had been               appalled, she had learned that it was the way of the world –– now she               simply wished to defend such precious creatures). 

                    ❝ Do not listen to them, young one: You are one                         of the more precious creatures. Little ones like                         yourself are blessed –– Heaven awaits you. ❞

[serepa]

{ ofmalignancy }

            ❝ If you need something, young one, you               need not but ask. ❞

[serepa]

{ hxtyara }

              ❝ It is the small things of this earth that brings                  the spirit much joy –– and the society of today                  is far too caught up in itself to realize that. ❞

[serepa]

{ ??? }:

    The little girl’s optic’s rise slowly to     match those of the older’s , to stare     straight through to this one’s very      s o u l .              ”        … my eyes … ?           “

           ❝ Yes, child –– your eyes. I am quite fond of the                colour: It is rather... different from many that I                have seen in most humans. ❞ 

                           Something dangerously close to a SMILE flits across                            proud features, touching golden eyes with a certain                             warmth that dissipates as quickly as it had come. (Kind-                            ness is not something that the Archangel dealt with often;                            still, that is not to say that she is incapable of expressing it.)

[serepa]

{ canusincendia​ }

          ❝ Your eyes –– they are quite beautiful. ❞

[serepa]

{ ??? }:

"A lot of places are like that, but it does me no good to hang back out of fear." 

                          “Thank you for the warning, though.”

           ❝ You are brave, mortal –– I can respect that. What may                I call you, young one? ❞

[serepa]

{ mythologied }

                  ❝ I am Abbaddōn –– I am Kafziel. Archangel,                      AUTHOR OF HAVOC ON EARTH.                      I am the ruler of the pit, they who preside                      over the death of kings. Tell me, who are you                      that you believe you can stand in my presence?                      Insolent creature: Explain yourself, and beg to                      our Heavenly Father that I may show you mercy. ❞ 

        Hands, surprisingly delicate and feminine  for a warrior of her calibre, rested on her hips, dark head tilted to the side as golden eyes surveyed the intruder. Shoulders shifted, almost as if she were spreading unseen wings, making herself seem as imposing as possible. (Wings, she had them –– but not in this form. Here, her power was contained to a human-esque physical vessel, and that meant no feather wings, no lion's teeth, no flaming tongue.) Still, her head was held high, feet spread, dark brow arching, gaze all but threatening.

[serepa]

{ ??? }:

"It. Is in some cases, the cause of misfortune. But it is also necessary to life and growth."

        “I apologize again for intruding.”

           ❝ –– –– –– It is fine. I can see you mean no harm, young one.                Still, you should be careful in my domain: It is not meant for                the likes of you. ❞

[endless-unfolding]

Dark thing, make a myth of yourself: all women turn into lilacs, all men grow sick of their errant scent. You could learn to build a window, to change flesh into isinglass, nothing but a brittle river, a love of bone.

Jennifer Chang, from “This Corner of the Western World,” The History of Anonymity (University of Georgia Press, 2008)

[fyblackwomenart]

Francois Cauvin, The Queen of the Sky, Acrylic on canvas, 24 x 36 in. (61cm x 89cm)