#caelus.

[lightricks]

another caelus sketch that got out of hand. anyway, whose lipstick is that ? what, who said that omg ...

[1juniperberries1]

(hewwoooo… i present silly analysis pretty much directly following “The Eat List”.. it even has direct quotes lmao. hope you enjoy <33)

“Amen.”

Incense burning. Not for his god.

For him.

He’d made it home that night around one. Caelus sent him off with cookies that were cold by the time he reached the door.

Victor settled into bed. The night was dark.

He rolled once.

Couldn’t find the cold side of his pillow.

Something was keeping him awake.

He wanted sleep, but he knew it wouldn’t come.

There was a tug; distinct, distracting, unyielding. A quiet, quiet voice in his head.

He rolled twice.

Still couldn’t find that spot. The coolness that was just enough to drag him under.

He sighed, rubbed his eyes.

Crowns.

Reluctantly, he allowed the floodgates to open.

That wretched mind— screaming, chanting, unanimous, ominous, a single unified voice projecting a single word—

—a single name.

Over and over.

Caelus. Caelus. Caelus.

It wouldn’t shut up. It wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t focus so he couldn’t sleep.

Oh, how he hated everything about himself.

Something that never forgot.

Something that never died.

Every piece of information was savored— yet he wasn’t starving, he was simply gluttonous.

Some times were more delectable than others.

And these days… these nights?

Positively tantalizing.

It took a moment of consideration. Sluggish and sleep-deprived limbs bending to the will of his thoughts, abandoning the blankets, trudging silently into the main room.

He tugged on a lamp and settled in the loveseat, something flowery and worn. He couldn’t remember if it was a gift or a hand-me-down. It didn’t matter at the moment.

Nothing in his line of sight did.

Until he closed his eyes and saw what he’d seen back in the pantry.

He stooped slightly. A favored position with his head bowed and his fingers entwined. When he needed to, he could draw the images up and reflect. More blessing than curse in the moment…

He saw all five books, then recalled the one he’d grabbed.

“EAT / DO NOT EAT”

He didn’t know why that one specifically. Perhaps because it was the one on top. Or maybe because he wanted to see which list he made.

He’d have been fine with either, honestly. Death was an enthralling experience, a mental rollercoaster and a physical agony, yes, but it made him feel something and he supposed that was more desirable than the empty sort of suffering he fought through day and night.

Fishing up the image of the page he’d flipped to, he saw his mind had already made annotations. Of course, the points of interest were highlighted gold.

Well, double-highlighted. He found the whole discovery quite a disturbing yet intriguing sight.

Still, he ran his vision over the pages again and again, drinking in the scratchy scrawl, snatching up the footnotes he knew were not meant for his eyes.

Most of it he’d found amusing, honestly. Surprisingly based proclamations, and decent enough morality regarding who he would and would not consume… though, there was one phrase under “EAT” that he couldn’t just ignore.

“Volunteer meat.”

Caelus called it “rare and disturbing”.

How pleasant.

Victor felt a giggle climbing out of him at that— and let it roll out, a single, delicate butterfly wing tickling his insides.

God, was that curiosity or hope?

Maybe both. He would’ve readily offered should Caelus have asked. In fact, he would have revived by whatever wicked curse he had upon him and returned to offer to be eaten again.

And again.

And again.

He felt someone ghastly kicking him.

Someone who believed they were divine.

The ghost of his innocence. All doubt, all thought of preservation kept mockingly in a spirit-form.

Le King was writhing within, shouting at him to come away from the dangerous edge of embarking on another of his self-destructive pursuits.

Victor shivered once at the chilling reminder. He hadn’t realized one of his eyes had shifted to a coin until he felt it roll back into a crown.

He huffed into the open air and went on. His focus slipped down the page, considering what he fit the bill for and what he didn’t quite qualify as.

“Anyone who cries too hard”

If Caelus ever managed to make him cry, and cry for real, he wouldn’t be surprised to have fulfilled that point.

“Strangers who remind me of Atti”

He couldn’t tell if he reminded the pie man of Atti in any way— but he was sort of certain he and the large, infinitely intimidating fellow had a growing gap of differences…

“Kids (obviously)”

He wasn’t exactly a kid anymore…

“People who thank me even while dying”

He couldn’t promise he wouldn’t thank Caelus… more than once…

“Thin-boned folks. Too dry”

He was nowhere near “thin-boned”.

The last three were a lot more specific.

“Former friends”

“Ex-wife (stupid to write but needed to)”

“Him (the one with the flirty smile and head flower(??). Weird guy.. I think hes like me)”

But even still, he wasn’t a former friend or— or ex-wife, (though he tagged that note to be a future question…) and he didn’t have a head flower.

Knowing what was on that page though, he almost stalled, almost made a shoddy attempt at convincing himself he’d read it all.

But he couldn’t unsee it;

“Victor?”

He remembered the million of thoughts that flashed through his mind in the first, single second he perceived it.

He’d wanted it to be a lie. A different Victor. He’d reviewed every detail—every cross out and X off and scribble—but he couldn’t deny the warm wash of belonging coupled with joy and gratitude that came when he saw the underlines.

And the clarity hit when he read,

“Victor Lee King — not sure. Pretty. Dangerous. Too many teeth behind his smile. Too curious. Might be trouble. Definitely not food.”

…

He blushed, just slightly at his middle name. Definitely not at the compliment.

All of it was compliments, really.

Because Caelus had cared.

He hadn’t watched Victor like Victor so easily and effortlessly seemed to stalk him, but he took note. He remembered.

Somehow, it was sweeter than any bite of his rich, decadent flesh. More nutritious than any cookie or pretzel or pie.

He savored that more than anything. Attention to detail.

Maybe he was selfish for that. He considered it daily. His worth and what he would do to get what he thought he wanted.

…

But that was a rabbit-hole for another day. For now, he scanned the bit of what he had seen, reading and rereading, giddy, intrigued.

He wasn’t certain when or even if he’d shared his middle name. It was less of a formal thing and more of method acting on his part. He showed up most days at a certain time and left when things shut down for the night.

“Pretty” was both a red flag and a buzzword. He craved the praises. He resented the craving. “Dangerous” was an interesting, if a little worrisome quote. He didn’t know exactly why, but he was certain Caelus had nothing to fear of him physically…

Then there was “Too many teeth behind his smile”.

Poetic. Slightly ironic, considering Victor purposely smiled closed-lipped basically all the time. He’d figured that the meaning was far from literal, though. It likely meant something similar to too many cards being in his hands.

None yet revealed. Nothing was obvious.

Perhaps he was dangerous simply because Caelus hadn’t come to know him yet.

And if that was the case, well…

He couldn’t say he wanted it any other particular way.

In fact, he was sort of content to be as dark and mysterious as Caelus’ routine cups of coffee…

His eyes snapped open. He leaned back. As for being too curious and possible trouble, he counted those as plausible speculations. The bow wrapped on the end of it was a scrumptious touch of something he couldn’t quite name.

“Definitely not food.”

Lemon?

No, too sour.

It felt bittersweet. Not being something worth consumption…

Perhaps more like gum. He’d felt like gum most of his life. Chewed up and spit out with no caloric gain, no nutrient boost, simply something to be chewed.

…

But Caelus saw him as more than just that, right?

Perhaps not being food meant he was something more…

He felt the migraine blooming behind his eyes as he was headed toward his own pantry.

He took four pills, cut all the lights, and trudged back to bed.

Dark chocolate.

That was what the ending felt like.

When he crashed, over-tired, mentally fried, he was at the very least pleased to find a patch of cool crispness on his pillow.

The dissonant concert of dreams that night was full of sugar and something he couldn’t name.

Yet.

(he has. photo-type memory that he subconsciously annotates if he knows he’s gonna wanna look at it later. do not flash anything you would not someone to remember cus. he will. knows all his friends’ passwords by watching them punch ‘em in once… 🤧)

Ah.

AH.

OH I LOVE THIS.

Caelus has only gotten volunteer meat a few times, and it was by people whom.. Would have rather been killed by someone they trust then someone they... Owe. (Explanation; sometimes Flowz will send people that owe him, to Caelus ((sometimes as payment for hosting the food at his events)) and Caelus can get people to trust him.. A little bit too easily.)

Victor does remind Caelus of someone, just not Atti lmao..

If he asked, Vic could know everything about his ex wife. Caelus loves to talk about her ((despite not loving her romantically anymore lol)) and he'd even ask if Vic would like to meet her.

Caelus finds Vic pretty cuz, he just. Does. Lmao, he finds formal things really pretty and (fun fact) used to collect ball gowns and shit.

(He still has them in a closet somewhere..)

Anything that isn't himself, Atti or his family, is dangerous to him.

Something dangerous doesn't ensure that you're a threat though, so Caelus trusts that Victor wouldn't harm him or his son (or he would have immediately noted that and kept a eye on him)

Not being food to Caelus means you're either family or.. He can't get himself to eat you.

He can't eat someone he loves.. (<- why he would rather die then eat his ex wife)

Heheheheh... My brain is a bit fried after ...thinking about my verse for a lil too long... So kinda short response- (I would have probably wrote a few thousand words if my brain would work 😭✋)

[everlastiingiimmortals]

WHAT.

[altarfates]

everything had gone back to normal. almost normal. before what had been an indescribable thing between them, there had been friendship and camaraderie. dan heng needed that from caelus before he could familiarise himself with that previously untouchable thing between them. when the world was not at stake, in the few moments they could rest and replenish their health, there was still the pleasant ease of of each other’s company. sometimes it was the pleasant routine wind-down routine after a full day of fighting, and sometimes - sometimes it was nights like this. ambrosia on the tongue, dan heng’s rare laughter coaxed by caelus’s humour and the strong amphorean wine, elbows and hands knocking on a rooftop spread of throws and pillows. their hushed words, and breathy giggles were drowned out by the midnight crawl of the tavern below.

a mere week since he’d been the one to draw the line between them, since he’d dangled the promise of a future beyond the realm of amphoreus. a mere week, and all it had taken to strain his resolve had been the wine-drunk gaze of caelus’ lips for a little too long. dan heng tried not to make his faltering too obvious, pulling back from how far he’d leant in to him to rub at his face, unable to sweep the smile curling his lips off. dan heng’s heart beat in his earns, red flushing up his neck, eyes looking away so so bright with affection. even practising restraint, their sides remained glued, dan heng’s pinky overlapping, resting over caelus’ knuckles where their hands almost entwined.

“ that’s so stupid. ” he says, soft, when he means, ‘i’m yours, i’m yours, i’m yours.’

Because the path of the trailblaze invariably led back to peril Caelus’s concept of normal had never been anything less than distorted. It meant that every moment, from the seemingly mundane to those rife with peril, became unique to him. Their bond, the very friendship that he cherished, allowed him to fight valiantly in this endless war. It didn’t mean he hadn’t been thinking about it. Caelus’s mind, inundated by what had transpired between them, churned through the possibilities over and over. Inadvertently turning the golden light that swathed the city into an eternal observer of his plight. It wasn’t that Dan Heng had said his feelings aren't reciprocated but he had asked him to be patient, to wait. The Trailblazer was known not for his forbearance but for rushing recklessly into danger, throwing caution to the wind. This time, however, he was choosing it. Each time, throughout their effortless interactions imbued with both the comraderies they had nurtured and an unspoken tension, Caelus continued to choose it. By the Aeon’s though Dan Heng’s laughter was something to behold. The soft, rich baritone of it leaves him momentarily stunned; golden eyes wide, mouth agape in unguarded awe. How could he resist leaning in slightly closer, head tilted slightly, his loose, white shirt juxtaposed by the tessellated rug and golden tasseled pillows. Selfishly, he was claiming it for himself, just another second; guarding it like a secret. They had fought in earnest for so long, desperately attempting to wrestle his fate from the hands of an omnipotent god, that he had almost forgotten how good it felt to be emboldened by the potency of his laughter. It was indescribably liberating. Slowly, Caelus’s eyes flit down to Dan Heng’s mouth; shameless. The impression of laughter lingers at the corners of his lips, emphasized by the way they parted just slightly. His heartbeat’s restless cadence quickening. There was an allure to the archivist like this; a soft flush risen to his cheeks, the tips of his ears too━ Caelus couldn’t help but stare. Amphoreus, this world they were attempting to save, was abundant in its divinity but none of that could compare to the way he looked and the way that made Caelus feel. As if caught in a forbidden act Dan heng averts his eyes but Caelus cannot bring himself to blink. He was holding his breath too, only realizing it the moment his lungs began to protest, letting out a huff of incredulous laughter to avoid choking. “ You laughed.” He whispers, triumphant. The same exultation gleams in his eyes and urges his hand to inch just a little closer so that it was no longer just their fingers that overlapped. “ I count that as a victory.” Caelus’s grin held the sort of contagious mirth that belies those unspooling feelings, the wine slowly eroding what was left of his inhibitions. How badly Caelus ached for him, how badly he wanted to kiss him. He leans further in, if that were possible, still shoulder to shoulder. It wasn’t his entire weight but there was something grounding about it, preventing him from being swept up by the intoxicating whispers of ambrosia. “ Y’know, that’s my greatest feat up until now.” His voice pitched a little lower, gaze tethered to the vast skies above as if he were seeking something. Where was the Astral Express now? And how was it that even as home felt so far away it also felt inexplicably close so long as the two of them shared moments like this. “ I like it.” His attention returns to Dan Heng, gaze fearless but ineffably soft. “ Hearing you laugh, I mean.” Oh, he wanted it very, very badly. Upholding that virtue of patience was becoming more and more arduous the closer he dared to lean in and Caelus couldn’t bring himself to feel remorseful for that. 

[raytm]

while i am hibernating give caelus a kissie !! a head pat !! a treat !!

[lightricks]

fighting artblock one raccoon at a time. base screenshot under the cut.

[lightricks]

talking with latte today and came to the unfortunate realisation that caelus can pull off crocs, jorts, boat shoes, and polos 😔 all of which are clothing items i hate to draw.

[lightricks]

i feel like you could ask caelus to empty his pockets five minutes apart and he'd have a completely separate inventory. one minute he has a stick of sour dreams soft candy, a lightbulb, and some lose screws he found, five minutes later you ask him to empty it out and he has a toy beetle, some police tape, several highlighters and a knife he found embedded into the ground.