#cgdbrd

      OH ,     GABRIEL ,     YOUR   WINGS   WERE   SO   BEAUTIFUL   BEFORE   YOU   FELL .          raven   black   and   plated   with   rubies   and   gold ,     you   proved   yourself   a   saint ;          above   the   law ,     above   the   government ,     and   protecting   those   from   harm   and   scrutiny   where   others   would   have   turned   their   gaze   away .          and   now   you   stand ,     no   longer   a   commander   but   an   enemy ,     plotting   the   demise   of   those   you   once   protected .          (   OH   HOW   THE   MIGHTY   HAVE   FALLEN   IN   THE   MIDST   OF   BATTLE .   )

      YOU’RE   NO   LONGER   THE   ANGEL   YOU   WERE .

      TEETH   BARED   AND   STARE   COLD ,     THE   REAPER   FEELS   HIS   CLAWS   DIG   INTO   THE   PALMS   OF   HIS   HANDS .          she   is   familiar   but   not   in   the   sense   that   he   recognised   her ;          an   omnic ,     but   at   the   same   time ,     more   intelligent .          not   a   tin   can   like   the   rest .          (   HER   METALLIC   FRAME   SPEAKS   LEVELS .   )          he   grunts   in   realisation .

SHE STANDS before him like a vision, like a dream, like the goddess she is. She is so much more beautiful than his memory could capture, and the longer he was away, the hazier that memory grew. It did not do her justice. Nothing ever could. His heart aches with relief and boundless desire, and the king crosses the gap to his waiting queen.

“    are you done. ”

soft caring sentence compilation ↪ closed ! ↪ @cgdbrd

soft sigh falls from his lips like a dropping breeze, and the smile that touches his features is small and tired. he’s been a ONE– MAN BAND for such a long time, so long that he often wonders if it’s him against the world. sometimes he needs reminders that it isn’t that way; he has friends and family. he has people who will fight at his back until they DROP and people who will take care of him when he can’t carry on himself. he’s not just any outlaw, some lone VIGILANTE on a justice-driven crusade. he’s JESSE MCCREE.

They met late one Friday night. 

A cool blanket of twinkling stars settled over the bustling metropolis. A personal call had been the cover that the pair had agreed upon, but Akande rather left the the Council for anything less than business casual. Athena, too, would likely agree with him. This would prove to be anything but. 

There was no such thing as a personal call in the world of war and strategy.

This was the long game, of course. Nothing would be ignited too quickly, not until the world was prepared to witness the glory that was evolution. Work came first, and work he did.  

For every “Trope” I get, I will post a TV trope for my muse | Accepting

I Did What I Had To Do

Sometimes a decent person has to do something bad, because it is the only way to prevent something worse from happening. 'I Did What I Had To Do' generally involves an after-the-fact justification for morally questionable actions. The culprit presents this statement when he's confronted with a "What Were You Thinking?" or "What the Hell, Hero?" reaction from someone to whom he owes an explanation.

Riella has been using “I did what I had to do” as an explanation for increasingly morally questionable actions for a very long time, from “strategically adjusting” her information in order to get early upgrades and join the Autobots to killing her closest friend when it looked like they wouldn’t get out of captivity alive and she didn’t want her to suffer. (She did get out alive.) She’s pulled weapons on people who were there to provide a rescue, flexibly reinterpreted or outright ignored large sections of the Autobot Code, and picked fights with people considerably bigger and scarier than she is, all in the name of it being something that has to be done for the Greater Good. (Her definition of the Greater Good is usually “will keep someone I love alive”--it’s a flexible line of reasoning.)

soft   »   accepting   ➥ @cgdbrd​

     “ i don’t need to TALK. ”

  in actuality it would no doubt benefit him to talk, it’s simply that he doesn’t WANT to. he’s never liked to talk about his issues, the things that sit and stew in his mind— any of it. for one, he doesn’t trust anyone here to be so honest or VULNERABLE with them, and for another…what would the point even be? talking about things doesn’t CHANGE them, doesn’t fix them, and there is NO ONE who would understand the things which weigh so heavily on his shoulders.

realizing, however, that he’s sounded more harsh than he intended to, genji purses his lips. slowly, he pulls the mug of tea toward himself, wrapping both hands around it as though seeking to DRAW the warmth from it, although only one of his hands can actually feel the sensation.