#the celestial cycle

[hell-is-a-supermall]

The Celestial Cycle

A big important part of the way the entire world works is the life cycle of a celestial. There's more to it than just what's shared here but this is a very good starting point for how the world works, and the different levels of beings.

A Celestial is an immortal; demon, angel, or otherwise.

An Angel (i.e, Aelthiel) is the purest form of a celestial, born of Heaven and still residing in/ working with Heaven.

A Risen angel (i.e, Dandelion) is an angel that was previously a fallen angel that has regained its wings or a demon that has undergone the rite of ascension.

A Fallen Angel (i.e, Jake) is an angel who's connection to heaven has been severed. There are many reasons why this could happen.

A Mortal (i.e, Benjie) can be a way a celestial may refer to a human, or anyone who does not possess an immortal body.

An Imp is a fledgling or baby demon (or a suppressed demon in some cases, but for the purposes of this graph it's referring to a baby demon) They can be born or made in many different ways and are huge nuisances.

A Lesser demon or Fiend (For example, Prince) is an immature demon, normally referred to as a fiend instead as it is much like a teenager phase even if the demon themselves are fully grown and matured. Fiends are the weakest line of demons and tend to exist in abundance.

A Middle Demon or just a Demon (For example, Finley) is a fully realized demon. They tend to be much stronger and rarer than fiends. They could be considered an ‘adult’ and are usually the level of power a demon can reasonably strive to be. However, even just ranking up to a properly titled Demon can be difficult for some.

A Greater Demon or Devil (For example, Dwi) is at the top of the food chain in Hell. Their powers, appearance, and abilities can vary vastly from one to another, but no Devil is something to sneeze at. They have the ability to rule over other demons with their “marks”.

A Nephilim (For example, Deadeyes) is a type of celestial that lives completely outside of the cycle. They are born from the mixing of an angel and demon and are something completely new and very powerful.

While each step might not necessarily lead to another step, almost all parts of the celestial cycle can transition to something else or were something else in the past.

Some changes are reversible, but most are not, and there are many different paths an individual celestial may take; one could start as an angel and end up a devil, a mortal may be blessed with celestialhood, an imp could grow into a fiend that rises to be an angel, or a fallen angel might lose their spark and become simply mortal.

Celestials may also be created or in some cases born, and they may also die, but death means something very different to immortals than it does for mortals.

[zytes]

9.16.24 / 9.17.24 - september supermoon

[murdockhawkeye]

mermaids are part alien

my source: season 3 episode 25, a date with destiny

the moon pool came from a meteor that crashed on earth. meteors come from space. the moon pool turns people into mermaids

thus mermaids are part alien

[reneesbooks]

febuwhump day 2 -- holding back tears

isha: a Hass term of endearment meaning "my heart" canon status: canon (outtake) pov character: jack words: 1.7k

the raedoran cycle

Jack slips through the stable doors, ducking behind a stack of hay bales when the door into the inn swings open, allowing light and the raucous sound of laughter to spill out into the stables. The inn is still crowded, so Eima will still be at the bar and Kamon will likely be with her, supervising. He’ll start clearing them all out within an hour, so Jack doesn’t have a lot of time. The real trick will be getting into the private quarters at the back of the building without Kamon seeing him.

He climbs out the back window of the stables and up onto its roof, finding the loose windowpane on the second-floor corridor and wedging it open. He slides in silently and pulls the window back into place. There’s another loose window, this one due to a few chips he’d taken out of the sill over the course of several visits—he checks that no one is looking, then climbs out the window and onto the thin overhang over the window directly below. His arms burn when dangles from the overhang, his muscles protesting that it’s been a long time since he’s done this, and it takes him longer than it used to to get the final window open with his foot. He manages not to drop himself into the lake and swings back into the inn, landing gracefully on the wooden floor of the private living quarters for Meja’s family.

The door to the younger children’s room is shut and Jack makes his way carefully around the creaky floorboards, ears perked for any sound. The noises of the inn’s patrons are muted back here. He sees a light under Meja’s door and feels his stomach drop, a part of him wanting to turn and run. But the rest of him desperately needs her comfort right now, so he steps up to the door.

“Kamon?” Meja’s voice calls, and Jack nearly loses his nerve. “Is that you?”

He pushes open the door and she looks up from her seat on the edge of her bed, her hair hanging loose around her face. She’s in her dressing gown, a comb in one hand, and pauses when she sees him standing in the doorway. She blinks, and Jack swallows nervously. “I’ve been told I look like him,” he says, attempting one of his roguish smirks and knowing he’s failing.

Meja just smiles softly, gesturing for him to come sit. He shuts the door quietly, not wanting to wake the sleeping children down the hall, and sits on the bed at her side.

“You look tired,” she says, winding her arms around him in a tight hug. He doesn’t answer, leaning into the hug, and she runs her fingers down his spine. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

He nods, burying his face in her hair. She still smells of spices from whatever she’d cooked for the inn, and the faintest hint of lake water. She squeezes him once and lets go, winding her shawl around her hair with a practiced twist. Jack follows her back down to the empty kitchen and hops up onto the counter to watch as she glides around the cramped space, lighting the fire and chopping ingredients and swiftly sending one of the little ones back upstairs when he comes down looking for the sweets. He still remembers the day she found him, and the little pot of sweet elderflower jam she’d given him to eat. Kamon was always so exasperated when he realized Jack had eaten it all again, and Meja only ever smiled and said that perhaps Jack had a little Hass blood after all. She’d never been fazed by his failings, or his thievery, or the times that he came to her with bloody knuckles and a bloody lip and she had to patch up his injuries before he let Arthur see. And now he’s come home, after disappearing for months and never sending word, and all she wants to do is make him dinner.

He presses his hands to his eyes, sniffing in a pathetic attempt to keep the tears in. He hears the gentle clink of Meja setting down her knife and her fingers wrap around his, peeling his hands away from his face. He keeps his eyes closed, not wanting to see whatever expression is on her face.

“Isha, what’s wrong?” she asks, and she sounds so worried and sad and he hates himself, because he has never deserved having her in his life. Kamon was right that first day—he is a demon in human skin, here to trick her into caring about him only to break her heart. “Are you hurt?”

“Are you not angry with me?” he asks, his voice trembling. Her hands are still wrapped around his, and he feels no reaction to his words. “I...why aren’t you angry with me?”

He can hear the smile in her voice. “Do you wish for me to be angry with you, isha?” She lets go of his hand to pat his cheek. “Bjerkja heard my prayers, and delivered you to my door unharmed. What do I have to be angry about?”

He shakes his head, still refusing to open his eyes. “I disappeared. I never sent word.”

“You know I can’t read,” she laughs, but he only winces. She sighs and switches to Hassa. “My beautiful son, I could never be angry with you. Whatever sins you think you committed, you will forever be innocent in my eyes.” She squeezes his hand and lets go. He opens her eyes to see her return to her cooking, the smell of it filling the room. Jack watches her work, tears stinging the backs of his eyes but never falling, and thinks of the way she used to tuck him into the hay of the stables, wrapped in furs, and sing him a lullaby until he fell asleep. He remembers the day he realized she was hiding him from the city guard, when he woke up to her voice arguing with Kamon’s about the danger he was putting the two of them in, and their family. When he heard the clanking of armor as their voices fell silent, and when Kamon’s voice lied for him, protecting him despite shouting only minutes before that he was demon and a curse.

“You won’t be able to tell me about your adventures on an empty stomach,” Meja teases, pushing a bowl of rice and vegetables topped with fried fish into his hands and breaking him from his melancholy thoughts. “Eat before you wither away before my very eyes!”

He laughs and her eyes crinkle with her smile. He devours the food quickly, having missed the rich spices and flavors of her cooking. Birdie’s stews are fine, but she learned to cook from her father, and he had clearly never met a spice rack. Meja’s cooking is a royal feast, and the bowl is empty quickly. Jack wipes his hands on a rag Meja hands him and leans back, still perched on the counter. “I can see the inn is doing well.”

“I don’t want to talk about the inn,” Meja sighs, pulling him down from the counter. She drags him over to the table tucked in the corner where the family eats and sits him down, examining him more closely in the brighter light under the lanterns. “I want to hear all about your adventures.” Her eyes roam over his face, as if she’s trying to find any differences since she saw him last. “Is Arthur still with you?”

“Yes,” he says, and she smiles widely. “He’s doing well; I’m sure he’ll stop by in the next day or two.”

“Whenever,” Meja says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “What exploits have the two of you been up to? You look wiser.”

Jack smiles, sure that she’s exaggerating. “I met a witch and two dragons,” he says. “I befriended one of the dragons and the witch, and I’m doing a pretty good job convincing the other dragon not to kill me.”

“You’ve always been my little troublemaker,” Meja laughs. “Witches and dragons; next you’ll tell me you’ve slain a sea serpent!”

“Perhaps on my next adventure,” Jack says, pretending to be disappointed. She tugs on his ear affectionately and listens as he tells her about Birdie’s cottage, and Fabin and Emilia, and the magic that Arthur has been learning. She gets up at one point and produces a platter of fried dough dusted in powdered sugar practically from nowhere, the two of them slowly picking away at the sweets while Jack tells her his stories.

“Meja, are you in here?” Kamon calls, and Meja’s eyes soften, her whole frame relaxing just a bit. Jack wonders if he looks like that when Arthur walks into a room. He doesn’t turn to the door, where he knows Kamon is standing and looking at the two of them. He’s not sure he’s ready to face Kamon’s reaction to his return.

“Kamon,” Meja says. “Look who Bjerkja brought back to us.”

Jack’s shoulders tense as Kamon’s footsteps cross the room to him. He gulps and keeps his eyes on the platter of sweets when Kamon pauses right next to him, smelling of lakewater and leather. He can feel his eyes on the side of his head but he isn’t ready, he doesn’t want it to hurt yet.

“Dammit, Jack, look at me,” Kamon says, and Jack snaps his gaze to his face. Kamon grins at him despite the tears sliding down his cheeks. “Fuck, kid, you scared us. I’m so happy you’re safe.”

He leans down to grab Jack in a crushing hug, pulling him halfway out of his seat. Jack blinks, feeling tears well up in his eyes again, and it takes him a second to remember how to hug. He buries his face in Kamon’s shoulder and tries not to cry.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, without realizing the words are spilling from him. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Kamon asks, without letting go of him. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

“I’m a curse on your family.” Jack gulps in shaking breaths. “I’m a curse.”

“You are our family,” Kamon says, and Meja’s arms wrap around them as well. “The accident of your birth will never change that.”

Jack finally lets himself cry, sinking into their hold.

taglist (ask to be added <3): @oh-no-another-idea @k--havok @space-writes @lyssa-ink

[catboygirling]

So that I never lose your breath upon my nape, I’ll carry on In the end, I wonder, just how long I’ll have to keep these thoughts

I keep writing weird doomed romances between angels and mortals. I can't stop. and this time they're both girls

art blog | ko-fi + commissions

[lumii-nosity]

i finished the raven king two days ago and now my heart hurts. WAUGH. I MISS THEM ALREADY.

[oldxenomorph]

(a lot of this was inspired by this celestial fabric facehugger i saw) i'm always thinking about the daughters of night and extinction, the xenomorphs born with nyx's characteristics.

the current xenomorphs born with nyx's coloration (deep ultraviolet or a black-violet) were shaped by the emperor because she wanted daughters that looked like nyx. very much in the same way nyx shaped nemesis to have some of the emperor's physical characteristics.

as explored earlier, nyx wants daughters with the emperor, be they the princes of entropy or xenomorphs. she is probably happiest when she is with the xenomorphs; holding onto the smaller ones and mothering them, letting the drones lounge next to her or curl around her, or going down into the depths of the ziggurat to see the ovomorphs and the queens. she has an attachment to the xenomorphs with her coloration. her happiness with daughters is the reason why she calls nemesis her and the emperor's "first daughter."

the purest expression of nyx's love for the emperor is when she completely integrates her glittering black ichor into the emperor's black tar, resulting in new xenomorphs. the emperor presenting nyx with a black and violet imperial ovomorph, the first new queen to be born in ages, the first of their daughters together. nyx spends months with the ovomorph as the embryo and incubator inside it develops, infusing it with her darkness, her stars, and her love.

(the rachni queen and her hive that helps the xenomorph queens comes over to nyx to sing her old rachni songs. the kind of songs their grandmothers used to sing when they were developing in their eggs. rachni workers coming up to her and gently touching her with their antennae and feelers. they've never been this close to the night incarnate before. her song reminds them of home.)

nyx spends a long time searching for the right host, going over all of the candidates the xenomorphs bring forth. the emperor enjoys watching nyx fuss over the perfect host for their first daughter together. and when nyx finally finds the right host, they are brought to the ziggurat, and nyx personally watch over the process. she watches as the ovomorph is placed before the host and it opens up to reveal an imperial facehugger that has stars within it, stars and nyx's darkness. black and violet with gold accents. when it attaches to its host and begins the implantation process, other xenomorphs gather around, curious about her, but also there to protect her.

(when the facehugger has done its duty and detaches, the xenomorphs look after the host, feeding them, ensuring that their newest sister receives all the nutrients she needs as she grows within the host's chest. they present to nyx the imerial facehugger, the goddess gently holding it before giving it to one of the machine-sisters so it can be preserved.)

nyx watches the new imperial xenomorph queen being born, breaking through the host's chest, her little body squeezing and emerging from the cavity it made. she is bigger than her sisters at this stage, not unlike the red xenomorph when she was born. she is beautiful: she is black and violet, in her elongated head are nyx's stars, constellations, and galaxies. she contains a the ultra deep field. nyx wraps her up in a towel to wipe off the blood and gore, and to hold her in her arms, to bless her with a kiss.

the newborn queen immediately calls nyx mother in the xenomorph's's unique r'lyehian dialect, clings to her, wraps her golden tipped tail around her arm, soothed and calmed by nyx's songs, her soft humming. everyone in the ziggurat wants to see the new child. when nyx hands her to the emperor, the newborn queen immediately presses her little face against the great entity's cheeks, calls her mother, clings to her, presses herself against her chest as she is cradled by her.

(the queens are curious about their newest sister. they watch her, they study her. the newborn queen looks up at them, reaches for them with little primordial galaxies in her palms, under her chitinous exterior. she already has a resin throne, empty and waiting for her for when she is old enough.)

the original queens were given the ancient names of seven female prophets. the emperor lets nyx chose the name of this new queen, their daughter, the eighth queen. nyx has thought about this for a long time, what their first daughter's name will be. she names the newborn queen nycteïs, "daughter of night."

nyx is especially protective of her. she is always in her arms, cradling her. she is always nearby as she watches the older xenomorphs teach her all the things she must know: how to hunt, how to kill, how to protect, how to love. when it is time for her to mature into her drone-shape, nyx is there and watches as she forms her cocoon and grows within. the cocoon is beautiful, black and gold, nyx's violet darkness swarming within it. when she emerges, is birthed again, both nyx and the emperor are there to receive her. nyx wraps her arms around her new daughter's drone-shape, holding her tightly. she is so beautiful and perfect. nyx hears her speak, the r'lyehian blooming in her mind: i am here. i love you, o mother night, o mother mine.

she is always by nyx's side, even in the house of hades as nyx resumes her shifts. her presence terrifies and unsettles most of the residents, especially the shades. (nemesis already met her since she's now a machine-goddess and no longer part of the unseen. she loves her new sister.) persephone is the first to greet her. charon, thanatos, hypnos, and moros (representing himself and the fates) also arrive to meet her. unfortunately, nycteïs does not care that much about them. (except for nemesis, she recognizes her as nyx and the emperor's daughter and loves her as the rest of her sisters do.) she just barely acknowledges their presence as she places her head in nyx's lap and goes to sleep. she does acknowledge selene, is fascinated by her silver glow as the moon incarnate.

nyx is a little sad when she finally grows into her queen-shape and takes her place next to her older sisters, where she will spend eternity producing more sisters. but every time she detaches from her ovipositor, she always goes to nyx, curls around her, places her great head in the primordial goddess's lap. she is unspeakably, breathtakingly beautiful: in her crest in the ultra deep field, her black-violet body full of stars, full of nyx's darkness, every sharp point tipped in gold, every ridge of her biomechanical shape outlined in gold. the perfect daughter of night and extinction.

nyx loves all the xenomorphs from nycteïs clutch. the little ones love to hide themselves in nyx's dress, they always want to be with her. each of them born with characteristics of nyx and the emperor: full of stars, full of darkness, each of them a perfect reflection of extinction. even the facehuggers want to be with nyx; they'll hold her hand, they'll blend into her dress. soon there are two more queens, isis and nepthys, and from their clutches are more daughters. they love to gather around nyx, they love being in her presence. just like the emperor, nyx will summon her tentacles of stars and darkness to hold all of her daughters, giving each of them blessings.

(they also love being with the emperor and the rest of their sisters. they were made with so much love, so she and nyx can have daughters in this universe and every universe, for eternity.)

[misty-zzz]

One ship im surprised to never see for the celestials is attmoz x glaishur x hornacle. its literally the 3 forms of water, and ive never seen them be shipped

[hanakihan]

so I was sketching a matching set for Chulwoo directly taking inspiration from fancy suits for men and AB with Ashborn respectively (as well as slightly redesigning and playing with ideas) and then I realized that I made Jinchul’s eyes too ✨ kira kira ✨ and I legit mixed AB’s glowing yellowish golden eyes and jinchul’s mana color JDNJDNDJDNND

I’m making them too fancy looking and I absolutely do not regret hdbdjdbjdjd

[euphorictruths]

Rituals Of Love And Loss- Adam Yates

[shock-micro]

why did my brain this morning just spawn a rain world x majora's mask au and why is it actually kinda banger

[flipperbuttons]

It's been a while but I make pins and stickers now! They're available here at my Etsy shop ✨ https://www.etsy.com/shop/HONEYLOCUSTsupplyco

[wildhemlock]

Autumn 2023 Moon Phases, Solar Progression, Meter Showers, Eclipses, and more!

Introducing a NEW section! Read on to find out more, or jump to WildHemlock.Com ->

Today is the Autumn Equinox, or the First Day of Fall in the Northern Hemisphere. Today, the Sun’s Ecliptic Path is intersecting with the Celestial Equator, and the Earth is facing the Sun at a perpendicular angle. This means the Earth’s Axial Tilt is neither facing towards nor away from the Sun. This gives us equal daytime and nighttime hours (on the equator!). To see a visual representation, check out the Solar Progression section:

Don't forget there is loads more going on in the skies this spooky season! Two Eclipses in October and the Geminid Meteor Shower gives a grand showing in December.

Learn more at WildHemlock.Com ->

[vanessashark]

002 // a galaxy between us

[catboygirling]

I WE HAVE SHED THE UNIVERSAL VEIL

been way too long since I drew my terrible angel

art blog | ko-fi + commissions

[lumii-nosity]

just your average gal with a penchant for orange juice and an inability to sleep before 2 am!