╮ℕever⇋ℱree⇌ℑrade╰ Yaoi Master/Slave RP CLOSED

[palesprout]

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xxxx↣Runners in a RAINSTORM↣ To try to cross ENEMY lines ↣
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI love you, do you LOVE ME ?-- But are we REACHING our POTENTIAL? ↣

Sariel was quickly brought to open his eyes, eyebrow twitching in annoyance for a moment at the idea someone was bothering him during his prayer session. It was as if he could feel himself being called out by someone, someone close. Had Gabriel needed him? No, he didn't hear anything, he felt it. He liked Gabriel but he sure as Hell couldn't connect with him. This was stronger, desperate. Sariel focused on Michael. He was moving. Sariel became a bit nervous, but anxious none the less. Michael was moving at least.

He began to tug on the shirt he was wearing, trying to pent up his growing anxiety and just focus on staying calm. Would Michael awaken now? He hoped so. Was that selfish to think? Probably, but he didn't care how it sounded. He wanted to know Michael was safe, he wanted to know he was alright. Sariel didn't understand what exactly had happened, all he knew was Michael was injured and Lucifer's body layed cold next to him. She'd probably been gone for some time, but he really couldn't tell. He also figured Michael was the one to injure himself, but he wasn't going to be that person and jump to conclusions.

His name was spoken, Michael lifted himself. He was awake. Sariel's eyes widened, standing up immediately after to aid Michael. He reopened the wound with how quickly he sat up, which was hard to see. Sariel placed his hands on Michael's shoulders, trying to get him comfortable or give him some sort of comfort. It probably didn't work out too well though. His raspy voice quietly spoke, repeating for Michael to take it easy. He didn't want him to move too much because it would obviously hurt him more and Sariel didn't want to see him pass out into nothingness again.

But he was pulled in close to Michael, still coming out of serious focus. He wanted to return it but feared he would touch something wrong or lay his hands somewhere sensitive. Oh God, this was a Hell. Michael put them both in a Hell when they were already in one, they could hardly even stay near each other without Michael stinging in his injuries. Sariel sighed as Michael apologized. He noticed Michael reaching for his hand but pulled away. He supposed he was seeing stand off-ish when he didn't mean to be.

So, yes, he softened up a bit. Michael would need him to. Being strong was one thing but being so strong he seemed stubborn and annoyed was another. He only shook his head a bit, trying to stay soft and gentle for Michael. He had so many things to worry about at the time, Sariel was the last thing he needed to be anxious about. By the look on his face, Sariel could tell he remembered his sister. He shut his eyes and said one quick prayer, not exactly for Michael but for himself, which was a first. He prayed he would be able to aid Michael fully, do whatever he would need to recover as much as he could mentally and physically. He would need it more than ever.

He cried, holding his gashes and thinking of his sister. Sariel's eyes traveled to the ground, standing there. He felt awful. What happened out there? He should have gone the second he felt Michael get up, but he didn't. He was a fool, but he was a fool in love with Michael. He wasn't there then but he could be now, right? Sariel slowly sat on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on Michael's head. It was the only place he knew of that wasn't bleeding to the point of no return.

His tears were reflecting the orange flames from all different angles, showing what felt like millions roll down his cheeks. He didn't deserve to see that, to do that, to feel this way, anything. Sariel hated seeing Michael cry, hated it. He felt so lost when he did, so afraid. He was afraid of not being able to pull him back or to see him smile once more or anything. He would smile though, right?

Perhaps not.

He had lost his sister, Lucifer. She was everything to him. He talked of her so much, her abilities and her greatness, and even her beauty. Michael called Sariel his helel, but wasn't that truly Lucifer? Sariel swallowed hard, trying to keep his face almost stoic. Michael grabbed onto his shirt, sobbing into his thighs. Oh God, he wanted to break. He wanted to break down and cry. He shouldn't be the one crying though, he already had his moment to cry. Michael needed the attention, he needed Sariel to be there. He was the stepping stone.

Sariel lifted a hand to Michael's, clinging onto his shirt, and placed it on top of Michael's. His other hovered over his back for a second, realizing that would not be a good idea. He just placed it on Michael's head again, listening to him express his concern for Sariel and his mourning over Lucifer. She was gone, but Sariel wanted to say she wasn't. He wanted to say he wouldn't be going anywhere. How was he supposed to cheer Michael up, see that small smile at least? Maybe he wasn't supposed to, but he would try. He would probably dig a bigger grave for himself in doing so, but he would.

Sariel bent over, laying his head on top of Michael's, his waning voice whispering. "You haven't made any mistakes Michael, stop apologizing. It's a cry for help and I wasn't there to answer it. I should be the one apologizing greatly. However, Lucifer will always be with you, Michael. Always." He didn't know what happened. "Lucifer admired you, I know it. She would have done anything to protect you and be sure you are loved, someone like that doesn't leave so easily." Sariel huffed out a laugh, smiling against Michael. "I would know." No, don't do that now. Don't add silly comments! Sariel bit his lip for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts again. "What I mean is, she isn't here, no. You might not feel her light, but she'll feel you. She will be with you, Michael. She is someone who will always protect you. I didn't know her as well as you, but she used everything in her power to help save you when I did meet her. She cared more about you then anyone I knew, myself not included of course." Oh God, could he not say something without the stupid comments? Sariel's eyes flinched, annoyed with himself a bit. He needed to revert from aiding a child to aiding Michael. "She is with you right now I bet, I bet anything. You might feel empty but Michael, please know you two have a connection that is unbreakable! You can't give up that easily, right? She didn't give up hope on you, so please. Do it for her. She's here." Sariel gently lifted Michael's chin, looking into his pained eyes. God, it hurt. This hurt to say, to do. He didn't know if any of this was true, what he was saying. But if he believed perhaps it would be? He hoped. God he hoped. Lucifer, you may be gone but please be with Michael.

"And as for me," Sariel began, smiling down gently at Michael. He didn't want to address this. He really didn't know on this one. He was going to ask Michael to damn him for christ's sake, he was planning on leaving. He couldn't. Not now. He had to stick it out for just a while, to help Michael through anything he needed. This was one sibiling, what if there were to be another? No, God no. Anything but that, please. He had to stay for Michael, just for a little longer. "I won't be going anywhere until I know you're okay, and even after that. Michael I will stay with you as long as you need. And regardless, you will never ever lose me, alright? When we were apart, Michael, I..." He took his hand off Michael's chin and pushed his hair behind an ear as he looked off to the side. "I still felt you. I could feel you breathing, I could feel you thinking, hoping, wishing, hurting needing, everything. Sure, I felt alone but eventually I realized I was always right there with you. I don't know if you can feel such things, but if you can Luci and I both will be with you, forever and even past that!" His voice was beginning to squeak out, Sariel clearing his throat to carry on speaking. "So please, Michael..." Sariel brought his lips down to scrape Michael's with his hands moving to his cheeks and his thumbs wiping the tears off his cheeks. "Don't worry so much about me." He said smiling, kissing Michael gently. He pulled back, but he lingered there for a moment, his nose touching Michael's. He just sat and took a deep breath, keeping himself in line with as much control as he had.

He pulled back and stood, moving to the vanity and grabbing the chair seated at it to pull it next to Michael on the bed. "What I want you to do is try and rest, alright? I will be right next to you." He leaned over to grab Michael's hand, trying not to hold on too tight. "I'm not going anywhere. You need to rest Michael and I mean it, alright? If you need to say anything or do anything or just, just anything I am right here." Sariel kissed Michael's hand gently. "When the sun rises I will be giving you a bath and washing the sheets, so you'll have to work with me in moving around a little bit. I hope this won't be too much of a bother." Sariel was to stay up all night and be sure Michael shut his eyes at least. He wouldn't let go, not to do anything. He would stay right by him and wait. Sariel was to devout every inch of him to Michael until he recovered in every way, then he would leave. Not now.

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❁ Who am I with ❁:Michael
❁ Where am I ❁:Home
❁ You make me feel ❁: Focused
❁ Mood Maker ❁:The Best We Got
❁ OOC ❁: ITS LITERALLY SO TRUE OM FG AHAAH - -/ / sorry this post is so actually awful ughughfhfgjvkjfh i had my first day on the job yesterday and school is starting today and im skipping out on school to vacation to florida for the week so ive been packing and kjdfhgkjfdh HALF OF THIS WAS TYPED AT ULTIMATE TIRED AT 3 AM AND THE OTHER HALF WHILE PACKING SO THIS IS AWFUL i don't know how much i will be able to post during this week but i will do my best!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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“Theleme"

[n0ctrne]

ꜜ I saw the devil today, and he looked a lot like me

ϻīͼϦαҽɭxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

ʄᶏᶅᶅᶒϞ Ⱥɍƈɦanɠϵl

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What Sariel was attempting to comfort him with, they were words humans used to console each other. They were naïve, meaningless. Lucifer was not with him. She was with no one. She had dissolved into nothingness, erased from existence. Even when he ceased to be, Michael would not see her again, nor would he Sariel. The angel was to be taken to Hell, and Michael would find a way to end himself shortly after. They had been earthly and died. There was no reuniting after a second passing. There was no circle, no reincarnation. Those notions were simply tools for humans to comfort themselves with.

Somehow, what was said made it all worse, drove the daggers deeper into him. It reminded him of how hopeless it all was. His existence truly was pointless, wasn’t it? Sariel had said he would stay until Michael was “okay”, but that would never be, not with him being dragged to Hell. It would be different if Sariel were to simply leave for another land, go off to live happily without him. It would still hurt, of course, but Sariel would be happy. No, the younger angel was going to suffer, face punishments that should be meant for Michael.

It was all because of the warrior’s failures. If Michael had stopped Sariel from trying to save him, took the blow intended for him, Sariel wouldn’t have fallen deathly ill in the first place. He would still be on Earth, away from his father and whatever forces were to take him away. If Michael had stuck to his responsibility to protect Sariel, he would’ve remained nothing more than a servant, and none of this hell would have ever happened. If he had simply recognized his chance to perish in that cage, he would have spared his loved ones all of this. This was all his doing.

He could barely register Sariel’s movements in his revery, but he heard the chair scrape against the floor, felt Sariel’s hand slip into his own. Sariel wanted him to sleep. This was not something he was sure he could do, however. He was exhausted, wanted to die, but sleep had not extended its reach to him. He was wide awake in his weariness. The thought that Sariel was sacrificing his own rest to watch over him didn’t help, either. He did not deserve this. He was unworthy of Sariel, his siblings, the very bed he laid on.

But he didn’t want to alarm Sariel, cause him any more worry. His heart still choked with a terrible ache, but he would conceal it. He couldn’t put his pain on the one he loved. Unable to stop the tears, he buried his face in the bedding, managing to suppress his sobs to subtle tremors.

With the hours passing, Michael was left with nothing but his thoughts and the Host to occupy him. He didn’t care for his sibling’s songs, however, not anymore. He began attempts to plan after Sariel’s departure. He was meant to be immortal, but surely if he continued to tear away at himself, he would succumb? He had nearly died on the battlefield before, after being overwhelmed and nearly eaten alive. If he could deliver the final blow, what would keep his own hands from ending him? That gold sword had been thrown into the brush, but Exousia was right outside, spearing Lucifer through her chest. How fitting that the sword he’d used to damn and kill so many would soon erase him from existence. Perhaps it was a sign. Maybe his Father was showing him a final mercy, granting him one last chance. He could not reverse or mend the damage he’d already done, but he could prevent further heartache. He could spare his brothers and Anna of the pain he’d eventually cause them. He would not squander this chance.

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←
Located: Eden - Home
With: Sariel
Music:
OOC: oh, that’s totally ok. I completely understand. Hope you have a good trip smile it’s starting to get cold where I live, so florida sounds really nice haha – I feel like I’m writing myself into a really crappy situation here lol

→

ꜛ I looked away, I turned away

Gakurankun

[palesprout]

xx ✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡

xxxx↣Runners in a RAINSTORM↣ To try to cross ENEMY lines ↣
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI love you, do you LOVE ME ?-- But are we REACHING our POTENTIAL? ↣

Michael seemed almost completely unresponsive. It was as if he wasn't there at all. He wasn't as bad as earlier, but damn where had he gone? The possibility that he was angry at Sariel or didn't agree with what he was saying lingered too as well, though. He was much older and wiser. Sariel was raised on hope and Michael's hope had been demolished. Too bad, Sariel was hoping he was his hope. No, no. Don't think like that, Michael is just upset. That's all, he's upset. It's only natural, right? Right. Michael turned, Sariel presumed he never slept but he would act like he was. He knew he wasn't though, his body would still shake. His body would shake so much from time to time Sariel couldn't help but shake either. He would tremble too, cry too. But he too was silent, kept to himself. He needed to be strong, so so strong. He needed to be the man he saw in the painted glass, the man who gave him hope. Yes, yes, his hope was laying down next to him, bleeding out, but that was okay. He would bleed, he could, he should. When he bled, it just made Sariel have more hope, yearn for that hope. Michael may not have had hope, but Sariel's hope was all over, damping every inch of the bed, damping his hand, sobbing into the pillow. Yes, he still had his hope even if Michael had given up. His hope would always stay near his heart, near him, even if Michael felt his hope was gone, even if he felt Sariel was gone. If he was his hope, of course.

The sun rose, ever so slightly. A corner was seen through the bed frame and Sariel wiped his muted tears, his strong, silent, calm cries. He gently placed a hand over Michael's shoulder, normally would shake it but he didn't. Sariel stood, bending in closer to Michael, whispering to him. "Good Morning, Michael. It's morning, Michael. You can open your eyes, Michael." He sounded off, odd. He still smiled though, trying to catch a glimpse of hope, trying to grasp at it. He had it. He held it's hand. He would walk with hope, lift hope up, help hope, Michael. He aided Michael sitting up, smiling to see his face. Can he be this close to him? He hoped so, hope. Sariel bit his lip, rubbing Michael's shoulders a bit. "I am going to start your bath, alright?" He let go, walking to the bathroom.

Oh no, no no no. Where had it gone? He had let it go. Hope, where had it gone? My name is Sariel Basil, a saint, a worshipper, and I had lost hope. His breathing became frantic, turning back behind him to see Michael still sitting there. No, it was there. He hadn't lost hope, it was sitting on the bed. How silly. How comical was that, right? He panicked over nothing, hope wouldn't leave. My name is Sariel Basil, a saint, a worshipper, and I am laughing at myself because hope is right behind me. Sariel shook his head, almost laughing at himself. No, never. Hope lingered, damping every inch of the bed, damping his hand, sitting up with hope covering him, staining him. Oh if only he wasn't to wash all that hope off of him, but he had to. Michael shouldn't be covered and forced to have it rot and make him feel disgusting, remind him of bad times. Perhaps, Sariel's hope wasn't meant to be slathered all over him. Perhaps he should rid him of it, it probably had a terrible odor.

The bath was filled, Sariel led Michael through the doorway, holding his hand and gently cupping his back while the two walked, weary of the gaping holes in his back. He couldn't look at them, he felt. But he was staring, he couldn't help it. He didn't know he was staring but he was. It was like he was seeing something completely different, to Michael this meant pain, Sariel was sure of it. However, Sariel thought he was seeing a future, something odd and different. Something he could work off of and make better, yes he could. He could do anything he wanted, hope was here.

Sariel helped Michael take off his clothing, leading him into the bath and helping him wash off. He imagined it stung, but he tried not to rub the soap into any of his injuries. That would be Hell, not hope. Even he knew that despite his current high. He looked so serious though. His lips curled up, displaying a smile but his eyebrows were so stern and focused. "If this hurts, let me know anytime, anytime, alright Michael?" He added on Michael's name with about every sentence he spoke. He spoke that name like it was candy he couldn't get enough of. Oh God, he loved him so much.

He feared losing him like this. He feared it so much.

He was so scared.

Sariel dropped his hands, finishing up washing Michael down. The water was so red, but a bit pink as well. Sariel liked pink. He tried to focus on the fact it was pink and not red. It isn't red, it is pink. Don't argue with me, I know I'm right, silly! It's pink. Sariel plopped his hand down, smiling at Michael. "Well, I am going to wash the sheets, so can I trust you to stay in here for a bit and relax, Michael? I know I can, you never disappoint me!" He cheekily smiled as his eyes scrunched up in joy while standing up. "I'll be back in just a few to help you out, so don't worry. Just breathe for a bit, Michael. Breathe, breathe and keep breathing." He repeated his name again. Sariel exited the bathroom, closing the door behind him gently.

He feared losing him like this.

He waltzed to the sheets, humming a tune. It was the same tune he had played on the piano a few nights ago. Yes, ah, that was a good night. Not that today wasn't good either, today was just great. Everything was just so great! Sariel's eyes scrunched up as he kept repeating to himself how good today was. Truthfully, if he kept lying to himself it was bound to become true. Sure, he was lying; My name is Sariel Basil, I am a saint, I am a worshipper, and I am lying. But no. he wasn't lying, he was telling the truth. Yes, that was what his heart must believe. He was so damn happy and Michael would be too, Sariel had just the touch of magic to make him realize his hope was standing in the room next to him, ripping off the sheets. He had the magic, the magic, the magic, he had the magic. He had it all. He had everything he needed to be happy, just everything.

Sariel walked down the stairs, through the garden door, the creaky old wooden door. Thankfully a matching wooden bucket war near with garden supplied tucked into it, rusty and being eaten away at but still worth something. Sariel smiled, yes they were still worth something. Though, he took out the utensils and filled the bucket with water from the sink inside and continued back outside with the dried, bloodied sheets and quilted blanket under his arm. The bucket was heavy, but nothing someone as strong as he couldn't lift, no sirree! He could do anything, anything! His hope was sitting right upstairs, bathing out his sorrows. Yes, yes. He was there, he would always be there.

He feared it so much.

Sariel reached some trees a bit out, noticing they would be ideal to hang the now damp and somewhat cleaned blankets on. He had to jump a bit to get them up there, but after many attempts they were all hanging and drying in the wind. Red was still on it, running down. It wasn't as red though, no it was pink. Oh God, Sariel just loved pink. Pink was such a perfect color, it was the color Michael's cheeks would turn when Sariel whispered down his neck and would kiss him viciously. It was the color of love, there wasn't blood on these sheets, it was love and hope, obviously. Sariel's eyes were wide and largely dilated in the sun, but he smiled down, the wind blowing the blue and pink sheets softly and blowing the shades toward Sariel for him to soak up.

He smiled.

He smiled.

He tried so hard to smile.

Smile for him, always, endlessly.

He had to be okay.

God, what had happened to him?

No.

Michael was fine, they were doing perfectly.

Oh God, what was going on.

Sariel turned to the side, deciding to head back. He told Michael it would only be momentarily, he was probably getting wrinkled by now. Something caught his eye, something gold and oh so pretty. Of course, not prettier than Michael, but it was pretty none the less. Sariel's wide, curious eyes approached it in the bushes, hiding from him. He pulled it out. It was heavy, but still nothing someone as strong as he couldn't handle. He continued to pull it out, it scraping against the ground.

It was a sword. It was his father's sword. Now, how funny that was here. Sariel stared into the gem, the blue soft and gentle like the blue in the sheets, as blue as the water Michael stepped into. His eyes traveled up, his blue blue eyes. He saw red. No, pink. No, it wasn't. It was red. Red, red, red, red. No. No, no. This was the monster that did this to Michael, this sword had harmed him! This sword was a monster, a monster! This sword belonged in hell, it must be sent. It must be.

Oh no. No no no.


Sariel began to feel like he couldn't breathe. His chest pumped up and down but he felt no air. His throat felt like there was a gaping hole growing and growing through from his neck to his jaw to his nose to his ears up until his eyes which wouldn't, couldn't, stop staring at the red. This was Michael's red. This was not hope, this was blood. He was terribly mistaken. He was always so mistaken. He was not Michael's hope, no matter how much he smiled. He was a liar, calling Sariel his helel. He was nothing of the like, he had no light. He was in denial, his smile was a lie and he was much more of a liar than Michael. Oh God, he wanted to leave. He needed to leave. Michael was in the bath, not relaxing but probably sobbing uncontrollably or staring at nothingness. He wouldn't be happy again, Sariel was not a fool. He couldn't even tell himself he was a fool and he could pretend to be oblivious because there was no way in Hell he would see Michael smile again and he couldn't keep imagining when reality would hurt so much.


He had to go. Go to Michael, go to Hell, he didn't know.


God, he just wanted to go. He just knew now. He would never be enough.


The sword flashed before his eyes, disappearing there after.


Something stung a bit, his eyes blurring. Had he been stung by a bee?


He couldn't live like this because he would go crazy. But he wouldn't die because he couldn't simply damn himself. If he could only breathe he could die. That was funny but it was true. He could hold his breath and feel like he'd killed himself. That was the only way left. Except that he wasn't breathing. His lungs were pumping air but he couldn't stop them from doing it. He couldn't live and he couldn't die.


No no no that can't be right.


No no.


Michael.


Michael, where are you?


Hurry Michael, hurry hurry hurry and wake me up. I will wake you up in return, I will try so hard. I'm having a nightmare Michael, where are you? Hurry Michael. I'm down here. Here, Michael. Here in the darkness. Pick me up. Kiss me. Now lay me down to sleep. Oh Michael hurry because I can't wake up. Do I want to wake up? Over here Michael. When the wind blows the sheets will be dry and we can slumber together. Hold me up high, higher. Michael, you've gone away and forgotten me. Here I am. Please listen. I want to see you, to open my eyes and see your face smiling widely. I can't wake up Michael. Wake me up. I can't move. Hold me. I'm scared. Oh Michael, Michael! Sing to me and rub me and bathe me and comb my hair and wash out my ears and read with me and clap my hands together and run your hands against my jaw and kiss my eyes and mouth like I've seen you do with me before, like you must have done with me. Then I'll wake up and I'll be with you and I'll never leave or be afraid or dream again.


His eyes refocused, seeing the golden sword impaled in his chest, sticking him to the ground like he was glued there. He wanted to breathe. He wanted to-


Oh no.


I can't. I can't stand. I can't stand it. Scream. Move. Shake something. Make a noise any noise. I can't stand it. Oh no no no. Red. Red, red, red, red, red, red. Please I can't. Please no. Somebody come. Help me. I can't lie here forever like this until maybe years from now I die. I can't. Nobody can. It isn't possible. I can't breathe but I'm breathing. I'm so scared I can't think but I'm thinking. Oh please please no. No no. It isn't me. This isn't me. I'm not stuck to the ground. I'm not here. I'm not away from hope.


I lied! I lied, please just help me. Help me. It can't be me. Not me. No no no.


Oh please oh oh please. No no no please no. Please.


Not me.


His hand lifted slowly, his eyes wide and trying to focus. What had he done, is he gone? Is this what it feels like to be damned? It is worse than dying. It was worse because Michael wasn't next to him. Oh God, please please. My cheeks are wet, I think. I think, I think. I don't know, I can't feel anything. I can't see anything. All I can see is Michael. He is anything, everything. I lied! I can see, I see hope. Hope is here. He is here. I can see him. I am touching him, I am grabbing his face, he is nuzzled in my chest, he is here. Here, right here. I can't feel anything but I can feel him. Oh my God, I am not crazy, hope has arrived! I have a change, I was given hope! Hope! Hope! I must continue because Michael is here, turning the red gushing out of my chest to that pink to match my blue blue eyes. Blue, pink, oh so beautiful. My eyes, I can see. Why am I still here? Why do I see a mockery of the blue sky, that blue blue sky? He lifted a hand, slowly but he lifted it. His pinkish-white skin, beautiful and pure. He was moving. He pulled his hands back down to touch Michael's face, nuzzled over his chest, but it wasn't Michael. There was a handle.


He missed.


The sword had missed.


It stood still in his chest, but he wasn't gone. He hadn't damned himself. His red was mixing with Michael's dried rustic red on the blade. It wasn't pink it was red. Red. Red. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. How did he miss? He was thankful, he thought. He was happy, he thought Michael was on his chest, licking his breast and making sure he was warm but it was only a sword that had failed and missed his heart. It failed to do what it had to do. He wanted to open his eyes and see Hell, end it all. He couldn't be there for Michael, he was a failure. He even missed his goddamn heart. He was an idiot. A fool. The stupidest excuse of an angel. His hands remained grasped around the sword as he layed there, thoughts colliding. He was happy he was alive, that was a foolish thing he was trying to do. He was hallucinating or something, he knew he needed some sleep to function although he didn't need it physically. Sariel was also sad though, he could have turned away and stayed turned away. He could have just left. He knew he had reached his limit, he had maximum hatred for himself and a good bunch of the souls around him.


But he didn't. It wasn't him. He smiled, but he cried, the sword keeping him stuck into the ground. He was so close. So close. So close. He couldn't make up his mind. But he was here, here he was. He was still here. He tried. He tried so hard. He must have been here for a reason, there must have been a reason he missed. He wanted to pull the handle and tear the sword seeping through his breast out, but it was stuck in the ground, like just a pinch was in Hell, like he was almost there but he just didn't go. He couldn't lift it out, he wasn't strong. It was something someone as weak as Sariel couldn't pull out. He needed to go to Michael. He would worry. Maybe. Perhaps. Maybe he didn't care. He couldn't care, Sariel just knew. If Sariel thought that though, why would he miss his heart? He must have consciously known he was missing, although he didn't truly know. Maybe he just wanted to know how it would feel if he left, maybe he just wanted a small taste of it, like it was sweet, sweet candy. But he realized there wasn't sweeter candy than Michael, right?


He stayed, stuck in the ground. Oh dear God, what had he done! Michael was becoming a prune in the bath, he knew. He had to get up and get him out, he couldn't move much on his own, he was so injured in every way possible. Sariel just scraped himself, a stupid, silly thing he did to himself. He had to get up. Get up, get up. He can't see. Not that he would care, but he couldn't. Not that he would function enough to move, but he couldn't. He couldn't see him. He couldn't see. Sariel couldn't see, he had shut his eyes. He was crying. No, he couldn't see, Michael couldn't see. It would be so wrong. Sariel was selfish, doing this. He bit his lip, ripping at his dry lips. He messed up, he messed up. Michael needed him, he tried to leave him. He didn't mean to, something just took him over. He was going to go crazy! He needed that red that shimmered tales of reality. He needed to be pulled back to the ground, not needing to be stuck in the ground, but he needed to be told it was okay. He needed to know there was a chance. He missed. That was his sign, there was a chance right? He needed to move, Sariel needed to go to Michael. He would be shriveled up. His hands tightened around the handle of the sword, grunting as he tried to pull it out. He kept his eyes opened, he could see this reality. The blue and pink sheets were flowing into his vision, the wind pushing them to block the clouds every few gusts. He stayed, focusing on the blues and pinks and not the reds slightly dripping out his mouth and engulfing the side of his shirt. He could wash up and be pink too. Everything could be pink. Oh God, Sariel just loved pink.

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❁ Who am I with ❁:Michael - No one
❁ Where am I ❁:Home - The blue and pink coated paradise
❁ You make me feel ❁: Remorseful
❁ Mood Maker ❁:When Anger Shows
❁ OOC ❁: im sorry this is so weird. ive had the actual worse week ever and now its topped off with a 102 degree fever so im a bit all over the place and just yeah im sorry this is off and weird and i dont know im sorry
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“Theleme"

[n0ctrne]

ꜜ I saw the devil today, and he looked a lot like me

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ʄᶏᶅᶅᶒϞ Ⱥɍƈɦanɠϵl

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Something was wrong. The way Sariel spoke, it seemed strange, repeating Michael’s name after nearly every sentence. The younger angel pulled Michael up, smiling at him. He failed to return it, however. His mind was still buzzing, heart weighed down, and despite the cheery expression, Sariel looked as if he’d been crying. He had been crying. Michael knew it. It was because him. Sariel suffered repeatedly, each time due to him. Perhaps it would be better if he left before Sariel departed. Sariel would be hurt by it, but it would be better than the constant pain he caused. Maybe Sariel would even be spared in his death. He was uncertain, though. There was always a seed of doubt, no matter how small and obscured. Deep down, hidden from himself, Michael didn’t truly want to die; he just wanted all the suffering to end- for everyone.

Sariel led him to the bath, his gentle fingers warm on his wounded back. He supposed the empty sockets must have looked gruesome, but his wings would grow back. The torn carvings on his torso were already closing over. Though, the same couldn’t be said for the hole in his stomach. The slightest movements were causing it to tear more, blood leaking out. The warm water would worsen the bloodloss, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. It would heal eventually.

Sariel helped him out of his pants and into the tub, began washing the dried blood and dirt off him. He couldn’t stop the shame from displaying on his features, his head from bowing or the reddish pink from coloring his cheeks. Michael enjoyed Sariel’s hands on him, but he didn’t deserve it. It was wrong for him to just sit there, allow Sariel to care for him. He was not so badly injured that he needed assistance. Sariel should not be forced to waste his time. Michael was the one that had caused the situation, caused all of their problems. The very least he could do was clean up after his own mess.

Sariel’s touch fell from Michael, but he smiled at the injured man. Michael watched him leave for the bedroom, taking the sheets and disappearing into the stairwell. He was told to relax, but Michael couldn’t stop the worry from forming. He was meant to protect Sariel (though he often did the opposite). He shouldn’t let him wander outside alone, unguarded. What if Metatron came? But it would only upset Sariel to disobey him. He didn’t want to disappoint the angel.

Though he was unsure why, unbidden tears formed and stung at his eyes. A tightness gripped at his throat, but he lied still, staring into nothing. His hands slipped from the basin’s lip into the murky water, feeling it cool. Absently picking at the wound in his stomach, he discovered it to be much deeper than he had thought. He watched fresh crimson mix into the cloudy red-brown, the pain erupting from the disturbance distant. It was probably unwise to let open injuries soak in dirty water, but he had never bothered to care for his wounds. They always healed, at most, in a few days; it simply wasn’t worth it to treat them.

His eyes scanned over the porcelain basin. It truly was massive, large enough to slide down and away in. Any movement caused ripples to dance and reflect, make a surface like the sea’s. He was becoming lost watching it, and he wondered if he could sink. Down and down, until he was free. Slipping forward, a cooling weightlessness enveloped him. His hair floated and danced around him, but his eyes fell closed. It was all so soothing, so comforting. There was nothing that could be wrong like this. He decided it was like a mother’s embrace, despite having never felt one. Oh, but he had felt a peace like this before, lying in Sariel’s arms, holding him. Sariel. A smile stretched on his lips. Sariel. He was with Sariel. He was with his angel, and all was right. They finally got their happiness, their paradise. Sariel was finally happy. That was Michael’s goal, his only purpose to exist. He had achieved it, and he would stay like this forever. A burning pressure was building in his chest, but that was okay. It was love, what he felt for Sariel filling his being.

It was odd. He was becoming sleepy, weariness hazing the edges of his thoughts. He shouldn’t need to sleep. He was sure it was all fine, however. He’d fallen asleep before. He had just been so comforted and safe beside Sariel, it caused him to surrender to unconsciousness. The same thing was happening here. It was nothing to be concerned about. There was still a sense of bittersweet, however, and he wanted to catch one last glimpse of Sariel before he fell asleep. He forced his eyes open.

Sariel wasn’t there.

No. Wait. This was wrong.

This was all wrong. Sariel was not here. Sariel was not happy.

What surrounded him was not gentle or kind. It was tainted with his blood and choking him, draining his life. He was drowning.

He couldn’t stop the attempt to inhale. His vessel only knew it needed air, couldn’t understand that there was only water surrounding it. He choked and sputtered, inviting more water into his lungs. He squirmed and struggled. It felt as if there was a weight on his chest, pinning him to the floor of the tub. It would take quite some time for him to truly perish from drowning. His soul would support the body until it could breathe, but he needed to get up, regardless. What would Sariel think? How much would he hurt, finding Michael seemingly drowned?

Although, Michael couldn’t shake the feeling that Sariel would be better off, even if it hurt him at first.

It took a fight, a strange amount of effort, but Michael managed to pull himself up, defying the gravity on his chest. Breaching the water, he gasped. He choked and coughed, clinging to the basin. Everything was sore and ached, but he paid it no mind. Eyes scanning the adjoining room for Sariel, he found no sign of the angel. His heart sunk, concern tying a knot in his gut. He was told to remain in the bath, but he felt something tugging at him. Something was not right.

He called out for Sariel, but of course, there was no reply.
Becoming ill with worry, he climbed from the basin. Blood from his stomach dripped to the floor, and he sighed, winding and tying a towel tight around the wound. He couldn’t keep bleeding on everything. He didn’t want to alarm Sariel with the constant bloodloss, either. Pulling on his pants and boots, he found one of his looser tops to wear and darted down the stairs and outside. Of course, this greatly aggravated his injury, but as he cried Sariel’s name, that was the last thing on his mind.

He noticed his sister’s body was gone, Exousia left by the front door, but there was no sign of Sariel. He wasn’t in the garden, or by the stable, nowhere in sight. Michael’s already-racing heartbeat began fluttering dangerously. Oh God, where was he? Had Metatron taken him? Had something else taken him? His eyes were wide, searching over everything. What if Sariel had been harmed? What if Sariel had been killed?

He spotted the sheets in the near distance, hanging on low branches and flowing in the breeze. Oh. Sariel must be over there, then. Worry’s choking grip eased somewhat, but he was still too anxious to breathe normally. He sprinted for the tree, rounding the bush and expecting to see Sariel.

Michael couldn’t breathe.

Everything stopped, his thoughts, his movements, his heart.

Sariel was lying bleeding on the ground. The angel was stabbed through his chest with Metatron’s sword.

No, no, no, no. “No!”

It was happening again. Sariel was dying. Sariel had been speared through the chest again, was choking on his own blood. Blood, blood, blood. It was spreading throughout Sariel’s shirt. This was his doing. Michael didn’t know what had happened, but he knew he was to blame. He was the source of all pain, and now he was killing Sariel. He should have taken his life the night before. Sariel would still be unharmed, would eventually be happy.

He ran to Sariel and fell to his knees before him, “no!” Leaning over Sariel, his hands hovered over the wound. Death and blood, it was all he could see. His mind failed to register Sariel’s movements, pale hands trying to pull the sword from his chest. Water dripped from his hair, onto Sariel’s face, and his hot tears soon joined. His memory took over, morphing his vision of Sariel into a near-corpse. Eyes impossibly wide and dilated, he was hyperventilating, “Sariel, Sariel! No, no, no. I am sorry, Sariel!”

No. It didn’t have to be like this. Sariel didn’t have to die; it was different here. His brothers were here. Raphael was here. The tiny seed of hope did nothing to calm him, however. His pulse was speeding far too fast, too light. It felt as if it was barely there, a flickering flame about to go out. Limbs and hands trembling violently, he pulled the blade from Sariel’s chest. He sobbed Sariel’s name and pulled him close. Holding the angel tight to his chest, he shrieked through the Host, crying to Raphael. He could only hope against it all that his irresponsible brother would actually respond.

Seconds ticked by like hours, with no response. He called again, begging and pleading. Still no reply. He began to choke on his own tears, struggling to breathe. Anger at his brother burned beneath the hurt and panic, and he screamed into the wilderness, “Raphael!” It echoed on, but Raphael wouldn’t hear. It was early in the morning. He was probably inside somewhere, reveling. Michael would have to find him.

Sariel in his arms, he stood. Scanning the horizon, he spotted the white palace, standing proud above the trees, beyond the lake and Anna’s house. The edges of his vision were blurring, but he focused on the structure. Yes, that must be it, the Celestial Palace. He hadn’t recognized it at first. That was where his brothers must be. He glanced down to Sariel and tore off into the woods.

Michael ran faster than he could remember being able to. With each minute that passed, it all became more unreal. He was no longer sure that what was going was actually happening. Was this a dream? He was running on autopilot, his head light, thoughts blurring and racing. What happened? He had done this, hadn’t he? He always did. He always hurt everyone. That was one fact that would remain true for as long as he existed, that would always be real.

He burst through the palace doors, boots clopping against the pristine tiles. They were here. He could feel them, Gabriel’s fire and Raphael’s jovial warmth. He took off down the main hall, charging for the golden door that practically hummed with Raphael’s aura. Women’s laughter sounded from behind it, confirming that this was, in fact, Raphael’s room. Michael didn’t bother knocking. There was no time. Sariel needed help immediately. He kicked the door in, the plate of decorated metal crashing to the floor.

Raphael’s scream came out shriller and louder than those of the two women in his bed, “bloody hell, Michael! What’s wrong with you? Talk about rude!”

Murder painted itself over Michael’s features, and he nearly crossed the room in one step. His generous patience was not present at the moment, not for Raphael. Shaking from his erratic breaths, he stood over his brother, ignoring the two women. “Heal Sariel,” it was a command, not a request, “now.”

“Calm down, Bruce Banner.” Raphael climbed from his bed, kicking the blankets off his naked form, “can I get my trousers on first? Christ!” Tugging his pants on, his red eyes fell to Sariel’s chest, assessing the wound. He hummed to himself and retrieved a knife the nightstand’s drawer. Turning to the women, he winked, “I’m a master at more than just one thing, ladies. Watch and see.”

There were times that Michael could sympathize with Gabriel’s rage.

Raphael approached Sariel, a strange warmth emanating from him. His eyes lit up a bright and ethereal green, and it spread throughout him, his veins glowing with the soothing color. All expression fell from Raphael’s face, his features blank. He tore Sariel’s shirt open around the wound, eyeing where the younger angel bled. He sliced open his palms with the blade and watched the luminous blood flow. It smelled not metallic or sickly, but fresh, like the air after a storm. He pressed his hands to Sariel’s injured chest, their blood mixing.

Michael watched torn flesh knit itself back together in mere seconds, catching a blurry figure move in his peripheral vision, but he ignored it. Sariel was healed. He wasn’t bleeding. Raphael had saved him, but Michael couldn’t cast away the panic, the worry. What if it happened again? What if Sariel became ill again? With the anger no longer fueling him, his nerves set about destroying him. He could only barely breathe. His heart ached and burned, still racing. He felt a pinprick pinch on the back of his neck, and something about it made him hold Sariel tighter. With the adrenaline fading, pain radiated from every inch of his body. A particular agony erupted in his stomach. The wound felt as if it had grown, tearing him in half. He was thankful for the towel still wrapped around it. He didn’t want Raphael to notice it, didn’t want him to waste energy healing it. The injury should serve as a punishment; it was wrong to have it healed. Michael should suffer however long it took for it to mend itself. It was right.

Raphael turned to what must have been one of the women behind Michael, the green light fading from him, “hey, where are you going? You don’t have to leave, babe. The old man won’t be here much longer.” The slices in his palms closed over, leaving no evidence of injury, and his eyes darted to Michael, “yeah, think you can fix the door, and you know, get out?”

Michael said nothing. Yes, it was time he left. Sariel was healed. He needed to get the angel back home and finish the laundry himself, find another towel to cover his wound with before Sariel noticed anything wrong. He could tell he had bled more. The towel was probably soaked.

He turned and took off down the grand corridor, still holding Sariel tight in his arms. He was afraid to let him go. He didn’t want to leave him for even a moment, was terrified to lose sight of him at all, but he was going to have to at some point. And perhaps Sariel would be better off alone than with him, especially after finding him like that. Michael didn’t know what had happened, but he knew Sariel had been hurt because of him. This was all his doing.

Raphael was yelling after him, but he ignored it, focusing on holding to Sariel through his growing dizziness.

“Hey! You’re not gonna fix the door? Arsehole! I’m telling Gabe!”

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←
Located: Eden – the Celestial Palace
With: Sariel & Raphael
Music:
OOC: i'm sorry to hear that sad omg i hope you feel better soon. what happened?

→

ꜛ I looked away, I turned away

Gakurankun

[palesprout]

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xxxx↣Runners in a RAINSTORM↣ To try to cross ENEMY lines ↣
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI love you, do you LOVE ME ?-- But are we REACHING our POTENTIAL? ↣

He heard footsteps approaching. No, please be someone he was unfamiliar with. Someone was just walking through, they weren't the only creatures in paradise. It would be a slim chance it was Michael, couldn't be. Sariel told him to stay in the bath and relax, he could do something that simple, right? Well, Sariel knew he wouldn't be able to so that was stupid. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to God it wasn't Michael. Truthfully, hoping to such a beast was the wrong thing to do and he knew it, but he still did it.

Sariel heard the footsteps. They were heavy. He heard them. He knew them all too well. He knew the man making them, that too all too well. He didn't have to open his eyes to know Michael was looking down on him, but he did. There he stood, wide eyes and his breath stolen from him. No, this was a mistake! Sariel had only fooled around, it was wrong! Such a thing wasn't supposed to happen, he never meant to stab himself he didn't think. It didn't hurt though, not much. There were so many other things running through his mind, Michael's own well being being one of those things. But here his love was, towering over him now and panicking over his own idiocy. This was a mess. This was a mistake. He was a mistake, Sariel was.

Michael's voice broke into pieces, pleading for forgiveness. There wasn't anything for him to apologize for, but he was still doing it. Sariel tried out to Michael, saying he was alright, but he didn't listen. He looked so terrified, Sariel had done such a terrible thing. He was only causing Michael more stress and worry when he shouldn't have any and Sariel felt so awful for it. Of course he had to be the one find him with blood gushing out, that was his luck. Of course Michael wouldn't listen to him or see his eyes fluttering up and down consciously, that was just Michael. He was focused on the injury and he wouldn't stop until he saw it fixed, Sariel just knew.

The sword was pulled out of Sariel's chest and he whined a bit, that part honestly hurt but it hurt more knowing he was hurting Michael. He wondered what Michael was thinking because he didn't know what he himself was thinking. Did he really mean to try and damn himself? Something must have snapped in his mind that he didn't know was there, he didn't really want to be damned, right? He wanted to continue living with Michael, didn't he? He did, he did, so why did he do it? Sariel didn't know even himself, he wished he did, but he had no clue about anything anymore.

Maybe that's exactly why he did it though.

That wasn't the matter at hand though. Michael had tucked him into his arms and Sariel had to stop himself from yelling at Michael, asking what he thought he was doing. He was injured, why was he so desperate to help Sariel? He shouldn't have. Sariel wouldn't die here, he didn't have to be so worried. Though, he knew Michael had seen something similar before. Had he feared something terrible would happen once again? Sariel had seemed to go out cold before, he wasn't sure how Michael reacted. Maybe it was traumatizing to him, but regardless he should not be running to his side.

Or running anywhere as a matter of fact. He was running, taking him somewhere. Sariel wanted to tell Michael to quit, he was shaking. Trembling arms coated him, keeping him safe but he felt nothing but fear in his arms. Worry took over, he didn't want anything to happen to Michael. He only wanted him to stay safe and this was not safe. A soft voice spoke up, gently pleading for Michael to stop, but he didn't. He kept going, faster and then faster and never for one second did he slow down. Sariel was trying to get to Michael at a time he was obviously unavailable. His mind was already somewhere and his feet were taking him to it.

And there stood some sort of palace, beautiful. Even just the walls made the palace seem ten times better, it was outstanding. He could smell sandalwood just barely, a thought clicking with him. Was this where Michael's bothers had lived? Why didn't Michael stay here as well, wouldn't he be much happier in it? Did he have his own room in the palace as well? Michael, though, didn't seem to care about anything around. He seemed familiar with the grounds though, he must have been here before. Sariel's head had turned from admiring the beauty of the palace to Michael's face, troubled above him. He traveled all this way for Sariel, but he was the one who was truly injured. Sariel was a burden, this was wrong.

A laugh was heard, a few actually. Sariel turned his head, breaking his stare at Michael. He saw a door quickly approaching and got a bit nervous that he would be slammed into the door, but why in the world would Michael come all this way to just have Sariel hit a door? He wouldn't. The door flew out of sight, a naked Raphael taking it's place.

Disgusting.

Absolutely horrifying. Sariel quickly turned his eyes, never wanting to see a man other than Michael in such state. Sariel wasn't exactly pure, but he definitely wanted to be loyal even though he was more than positive Michael wouldn't care if he saw Raphael like that. He kept his eyes shut and turned away, feeling a hand move to rip his shirt open. He didn't like that very much at all, Anna had given him the shirt. Then again, Raphael was trying to help. He was going to heal Sariel after all. If he was given a needle and thread, he could easily fix it.

He did so, the wound healing almost instantly. Raphael had a slice in his hand, but Sariel had nothing. He looked up from the closed wound to Raphael, his eyes sparkling and his lips curved out in amazement. How could he do such a thing! He truly was amazing! Well, no he wasn't, but he was. Sariel began to say thank you, but Michael turned away, leaving Raphael screeching at him to come back and fix the door. Okay, this was the part of Raphael that wasn't too great. But Michael didn't look to well, he was paling again. His feet just kept moving. Michael needed a break, he needed to just sit down or something. He was still injured, was he not? No, he was. He needed to stop moving. "Michael, thank you but please stop for a moment." Sariel whispered timidly, feeling wrong to demand something of him after he ran and ran to get him healed when it really wasn't anything.

"You're injured still, right?" Sariel asked, his eyes doughy and his hand on Michael's chest as if he were stopping him. "Just stop for a bit, please. You've done enough. I'll fix the door and you need to take a breath." Sariel wasn't strong, but he did like to do handy work here and there and he would definitely do it if it meant Michael taking a rest. He looked down for a moment, knowing the wound in Michael's stomach was the worst although his back was the worst to look at. A thought crossed his mind. He didn't want to do anything Michael didn't like, though he already had, but he may have to do something he didn't like once more. His eyes traveled back up to Michael's, Sariel staring seriously into them. He couldn't ask Michael if this was okay, because he would for sure say no.

"Raphael," Sariel called out in Michael's arms. He wouldn't allow him to hurt. Pain was already attached to Michael as if it were his own shadow, he didn't need physical pain to help him through that. A hand lifted to rub the side of Michael's cheek, Sariel sighing through his nose. He was trying to hide his pain, but although Sariel messed up quite a bit, he knew Michael a little more than that. Sariel peered into Michael's eyes like he was trying to apologize for what he was to do."Please heal Michael as well."



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❁ Who am I with ❁:Michael - Michael and Raphael
❁ Where am I ❁:Home - The palace engraved with white
❁ You make me feel ❁: Focused
❁ Mood Maker ❁:Boy With A Coin
❁ OOC ❁: this is just awful and it took so long i had block so bad i am so sorry oh my gosh i am awful i am really so sorry im sorry - but basically i lost my passport on the trip and got sick at disneyworld and couldnt move i was so cold and had to stay in the hotel the rest of the trip and had to rebuy a plane ticket because i missed my flight because of my passport and my favorite member in an idol group is graduating and that one sounds silly but theyve done a lot for me and homework is stressful and just college prepping and prepping for study abroad and traveling to vermont to college tour and just money and just everything is tumbling down for me atm but im trying to ;; stay alive , m1 Rffjghvsdjfh
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“Theleme"

[n0ctrne]

ꜜ I saw the devil today, and he looked a lot like me

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ʄᶏᶅᶅᶒϞ Ⱥɍƈɦanɠϵl

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Michael was about to pass through the palace doors when Sariel spoke up, urging him to stop. The older angel did so, blurring vision locked onto Sariel’s features. Was something wrong? Did Sariel still hurt? Worry began to work up within him again, but Sariel expressed concern for Michael’s injuries, resting a gentle hand on the tall man’s chest. Sariel insisted that he fix the door, that Michael rest. No, no. Michael shouldn’t stop, not now. He needed to get Sariel home, see to it that the younger angel was taken care of, and finish what was left to do. No, Michael could not rest. Despite that, his sight was swirling, and his body was giving way, collapsing against the white marble wall. He tried to scramble back to his feet, but the attempts proved futile.

Raphael’s name was called out in Sariel’s sweet voice. No, what was he doing? They needed to get back now. Sariel’s soft hand caressing his cheek, his brother’s curious footsteps approaching, Michael had a suspicion. He knew what Sariel was going to ask of Raphael before the request left his lips. He met Sariel’s eyes, but tried to squirm into a position to stand, “no, no! It is wrong. I must atone.” This couldn’t happen. He couldn’t let Raphael heal him. He didn’t deserve it, and Sariel would suffer for the sin, perhaps even Raphael as well. In fact, the last time Raphael had healed him, his brother died. What if that was to happen again? What if Sariel would be killed? Someone had already stabbed him through the chest again.

A blur of yellow hair and tanned skin knelt before him, “where’s he hurt?”

His efforts to move proved useless, and he realized he couldn’t escape from this. His breathing picked up, his pulse along with it. Panting, he tried to push Raphael’s warm hands away from his stomach. Though the pain was growing, he shook his head. He couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t let this happen. Voice strangled with anxiety, he looked to Sariel and begged, “no, please. This is a sin, a waste. I deserve to suffer; it is just.” He could practically feel Raphael’s energetic attitude morph into something of unsettled concern, a rare emotion from the blond, but he persisted. The ones he loved would suffer even more if he didn’t. “You will be hurt if I do not pay for my wrongdoings.” He turned to Raphael’s vague form, “you, as well, brother. You perished before because you healed me.”

“Bollocks,” deft fingers inched Michael’s shirt up, grazing over his tender, healing skin, “I died because I’d been sick, and it had nothing to do with you.” Raphael’s voice was flat and too level, lacking its usual, cheerful ringing, “it’s not gonna happen again. Relax.”

Raphael claimed his death hadn’t been Michael’s fault, but that was simply wrong. He was responsible for Raphael, should’ve protected him, should have died in his place. He tried to twist away from his younger brother’s touch, but was held in place by a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Stop,” Raphael worked on the knot in the towel around Michael’s waist, eyes locked on the blood-soaked front of it. Stinking of a heavy and sickly metal, it had bled through onto the brunet’s black shirt. It was a wonder he hadn’t passed out from bloodloss yet.

The towel fell open, exposing the gaping wound beneath. Michael groaned, turning away from Raphael’s cringing features, but he was met with Sariel’s face. He squeezed his eyes shut instead, bowing his head in shame. Neither of them should have to see this, to worry over him, especially not Sariel. His suffering was a righteous thing, but no one should have to bear watching it. Raphael’s sympathetic hiss only made him feel worse.

The wound must have torn open as he was running, now stretching to either flank. It was leaking crimson, and edges were ragged and red, either from irritation or impending infection. Raphael’s fingers glided around the outer edges, before he grazed along the insides of the injury, trying to judge how deep it was. It reached nearly to Michael’s spine, his stomach having been ripped through.

He felt Raphael trace the remnants of Enochian carvings on his skin, “who did this to you?” It was just above a whisper, calm and serious, a promise of revenge. The anxious tension thickened when Michael didn’t respond. “Michael, who did it?”

He shook his head, feeling Raphael’s other hand clamp down on his shoulder. He spoke up before his brother’s concern could grow more, “I did it to myself. It needed to be done.”

Raphael’s grip fell from him. “O-oh.”

He could hear the shock in his brother’s voice, how he knew his brow was furrowed and his eyes wide. He imagined the blond was disgusted, as he knew Gabriel was and Sariel must be. Well, he had disappointed everyone else. He supposed it was only a matter of time before he hurt Raphael, as well. God, he was so useless, so destructive.

A part of him wished he would just pass away, right there on the floor. Sariel wouldn’t have to worry or care for him anymore. Raphael wouldn’t have to heal him, and Gabriel wouldn’t have to be bothered. Everyone would be better off.

Raphael produced his knife from his pocket, his skin giving off a soothing warm, and his eyes and veins glowed that gentle green. He sliced open his fingers, palms afterward, and coated his hands in the strange blood. Gaze locking onto Michael’s closed eyes, Raphael directed his efforts towards his brother’s wounded stomach. He ran his fingertips along the reddened edges, soothing and healing. He worked deeper into the wound, mixing their blood, but Michael’s flesh seemed almost reluctant to heal, resistant. His eyes scanned over the guilt and shame displayed on Michael’s features, the tortured expression painted on his face.

Raphael hummed to himself, thinking, “I’m telling you, bro, when I sleep, I have the weirdest dreams,” his voice was strange as he healed, inhuman and echoing, but it was lulling, melodic.

Michael was oddly warm. It was gentle and caressing, like being wrapped in blankets. It was wrong, though. He knew it was. His mind was being soothed into a state of calm, but the guilt and worry ate away at it. There would be dire consequences for this; Sariel and Raphael would be harmed. Even with Raphael’s voice as calming as it was now, he couldn’t let go of the pain. His brother called his name and urged him to respond. Concern rang in Raphael’s tone the second time, and it proved too tempting. He couldn’t have either one of them worrying over him any more than they were. He forced his eyes open, Raphael’s bright features coming into his view. Though his eyesight was still hazy, he could make out the blond’s toothy grin and smiling eyes.

There he went again. Raphael was brash, childish, and overly energetic, but, like a child’s, his happiness was infectious. And beneath all the philandering and arrogance, Raphael possessed a kind heart. He would have never sacrificed himself to save Michael if he didn’t.

Raphael laughed, glowing eyes locking onto Michael’s, “the other night, I dreamed I drank some bad milk, and I ended up bein’ sick on you.” He took a moment to glance down at his work, “I looked in one of those dream books to see what vomiting on your brother meant, but there was nothing on it. Maybe it’s a prediction. Best be careful if you catch me with milk.”

Michael knew what Raphael was trying to do, why he was babbling on. He appreciated the considerate effort, but he couldn’t simply forget everything and be sucked in by his brother’s cheery attitude. Though, his heart was no longer racing, and his panting had subsided.

“Better you than Gabe I suppose. Could you imagine? He’d summon the Horsemen!”

Michael couldn’t stop the smile at that. Gabriel was prone to rage at trivial things. He could imagine the red-robed man would explode if Raphael was to dirty his clothing like that.

Before he realized, his torn insides were healed, the skin on his stomach closed over and pristine. No. He began to panic again, but Raphael clapped a hand on his shoulder, “all done.” No no no. Raphael had grown pale, a subtle darkness under his eyes. Oh, god, please. Raphael was going to die. He was ill again, all because of Michael’s stupidity. He should have been left to rot. Perhaps the wound would’ve grown to kill him. He couldn’t hurt anyone if he was dead.

Raphael stood, but leaned down to plant his hands on Michael’s shoulders, staring into his eyes. “Hey,” he squeezed the older angel’s shoulders, “calm down. I’m all right. Nothing’s gonna happen to me, got it? So relax.”

Of course, Raphael said this, but how could he be sure? The knot in Michael’s chest wound tighter. The worry could still be seen in his furrowed brow and wide eyes.

Raphael ruffled a hand through Michael’s hair, pushing it into his face. He gathered the bloody towel from the floor, holding it at an arm’s length. He sent his brother and Sariel a wink, and headed for a red door that must’ve led to Gabriel’s room. He was chuckling the whole way, slipping inside.

Michael shuffled next to Sariel and pulled the smaller angel against him. Panicked breaths shaking his frame, he ran his hands along Sariel’s form and checked him for any new injuries. It was illogical, he knew, but that didn’t stop the fear. He knew the ones he loved would be punished for his sins. Finding no wounds, he hugged Sariel close.

He jumped at the slam of a door, and turned to find Raphael emerging from their brother’s room, towel gone and a smirk on his lips, “you saw nothing.” The blond winked, walking back to his own room, “forget the door. I’ll do something with it.”

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←
Located: Eden – the Celestial Palace
With: Sariel & Raphael
Music:
OOC: omg I am so so sorry. I work Thursday and Friday nights, then from the mornings on the weekend and I was dragged everywhere this Monday and Tuesday. I just got to finish this; I am so sorry. – and oh my god I’m sorry to hear that. What a shitty trip. And college prep ugh I do not miss high school. I understand you must be stressed out the a**. It’s okay, take your time with the rp; real life is more important lol

→

ꜛ I looked away, I turned away

Gakurankun

[palesprout]

xx ✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡

xxxx↣Runners in a RAINSTORM↣ To try to cross ENEMY lines ↣
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI love you, do you LOVE ME ?-- But are we REACHING our POTENTIAL? ↣

Michael was giving out and thankfully Raphael was willing to help. Raphael seemed extremely full of himself, so it was hard to say if he would be accepting, but he healed Sariel so why wouldn't he be willing to heal Michael? Before he realized, Raphael was over to the two, kneeling down to Michael. He wondered where Michael was injured and Sariel's face just puffed up a bit, his hands waving in some sort of fashion that motioned all over. There was a bit of confusion as he motioned at Michael though, stepping back a bit to not cause any shadows and Raphael could really see where the injuries were. Sariel knew where Michael was wounded, but there was so much he wasn't exactly sure where to point. Really, Sariel just wanted all of Michael to be healed, but that would be asking a bit too much.

Obviously the help wasn't wanted though, Michael was trying to get away from Raphael it seemed. It was wrong of Sariel to ask Rapahel to heal Michael in some way, but at the same time, wasn't it right? He would suffer for days if Sariel just left him like this. He couldn't do that. Michael was shooting his gaze to Sariel, panicking. He felt awful for it, he was looking to Sariel for help it seemed. Inevitably, he wouldn't be giving Michael any help, but he would at the same time. Michael pleaded to Sariel, saying he deserved to suffer and that healing him was a sin. Sariel stayed looking at Michael but his eyes broke away and moved to the floor for a moment. He felt like he was torturing him, putting him through Hell. That wasn't the intent, not at all, but he seemed so miserable. He only wanted Michael to heal or be happy or healthy or anything, God, just anything besides being in constant pain. He could say he deserved it over and over but he didn't.

Through Sariel's silence, which he shouldn't have been but was, Raphael spoke up instead. Once again Sariel was thankful for Raphael. He was trying to calm Michael down, if that were even possible. At least he was trying. Raphael was trying too hard perhaps, even with Michael trying to rip away from his grasps. Sariel felt bad he wasn't the one aiding Michael again, but he kept coming back to the reasoning that he just wasn't strong enough to. How pathetic. An arm was rubbing the other as if he was cold, but he did it more as something to comfort himself. He didn't need to be comforted now though, that was Michael. Sariel rolled his eyes back up to see the two wrestle almost, Michael whining and weak and Raphael like he was the older sibling. Raphael pulled back a bit and everything got quiet. There were no voices, everyone joining Sariel in silence for just a moment.

The wound had gotten worse, immensely worse. It almost looked like a smile was craved into Michael's stomach and then yanked at until everything was pouring out. Sariel's eyes widened, a hand moving to cover his mouth as his shoulders stiffened. How had it gotten worse? Shouldn't it have gotten better? Was it his fault? Michael ran without stopping, he was incredibly weak now. When he was trying to help Sariel it must have bled out, he was at fault. Michael was turned to Sariel but he couldn't even look. Neither of them could look. Sariel dug his hands into his forehead, leading to his scalp. How had everything become so terrible during such a short time period? Sariel must have been some sort of curse, he felt he was the root of all evil. Lucifer's death probably could be linked back to Sariel too in some twisted universe if someone researched hard enough. He only wished he never existed, then Michael wouldn't be apart of this bloody mess.

He heard Raphael asking Michael who did it to him, who injured him. The blonde narcissus asked persistently, but Michael wasn't answering. Sariel turned around completely, leaning against the wall with how distraught he was becoming. His pale, goosebumping arms raised to his ears as if he was trying to block out all sounds, but he could still hear. He wanted to know what happened, why he did it. He knew it was Michael, he didn't need to hear it to believe it. He didn't want to believe it, but he wasn't awfully stupid. Finally, Michael told Raphael it was him and Sariel didn't react. Even if he did, no one would see. He didn't want to hear that, but he knew it already. Either Michael was trying to help or he wanted to die. Oh God, why would he do it? Either way it made Sariel visit his own personal Hell thinking he would drive Michael to want or need to do any of those things.

But some sort of story arose, Raphael's voice becoming slightly light and fluffy again. Sariel slowly turned, his shoulders relaxing a bit and his troubled eyebrows raising in curiosity. It was really none of his business, but he paid attention anyway. It was a dumb story though, nothing relevant. However, it sparked something. It made Michael smile. He smiled. He smiled. Oh, what a beautiful sight. If only Sariel had the ability to spread joy to Michael. No, not now. Michael was seemingly happy, he couldn't ruin it. Get over it. Sariel caught himself smiling at Michael's small smile, Michael's teeth barely showing but they were still there.

He could keep it there, right? Michael's smile?

Raphael finished his work, looking extremely exhausted but still ditsy. Sariel knew the feeling. Someone could only sit there for hours but be drained because of focus or any other small thing. Maybe he and Raphael weren't so different after all, maybe he could grow to like him. After all, he did make Michael smile, and that was the greatest gift of all. No, no wait. He had to stop this whole, 'I hate them' attitude to a 'Well, they're not so bad.' attitude. He seemed to have lots of that with Michael's brothers. He was probably just jealous. Sariel rested against the wall, running a hand through his bangs to let some air hit his forehead. Michael didn't want to at first, but it was a good thing he asked Raphael to help. With the healing of the wound aside, Sariel believed being with someone close to him really helped, even though it wasn't him. Whatever, as long as Michael was smiling, he didn't care what happened.

Raphael got up with the towel and made way into a different room that reeked of incense the second the door was opened. It could only really mean one thing. Gabriel. Sariel chuckled a bit as Raphael disappeared into the room. Alright, Alright. Raphael was likable, but he wasn't going to befriend him. Arms stretched behind him and he turned to meet Michael who was worried once more. He grazed his hands all over Sariel's body as if he were looking for something, his head moving around like he was a bug. Sariel laughed gently, pulling Michael into an embrace as Michael did the same to Sariel. His white hair ruffled up as he buried his head into Michael, whispering to him. "I'll be alright." He didn't want to say he was alright, but he would get there.

The door slammed and Raphael came out, cackling almost. The towel was gone. Sariel wasn't exactly sure what he did with it, but whatever it was couldn't be good. Sariel rolled his eyes and slid his hand down Michael's arm to grab his hand. "Pfft. Alright, alright. I didn't see anything. But when you get caught, we didn't have anything to do with this, alright?! We have enough problems on our hands and we don't need Gabriel's rage added on." Sariel said, laughing mid way through and smiling wide at Raphael. Sariel turned to Michael, "We should get going." He softly spoke to him. He looked back at Raphael who was making his way down the hall into his room, "Thank you for everything, Raphael." Sariel spoke, his tone becoming a bit more serious. "Really." He nodded as if he was trying to extend his gratitude and show how much it meant to him without him embarrassing Michael or anything like that. Sariel turned around to the grand doors and began to lead Michael out, turning his head back to look down the hall at Raphael every few seconds.

The sun was still blazing out, Sariel reaching a hand over his eyes to try and block the rays. "Aaaah, ouch! Michael, did you know that blue eyes are the most sensitive to the sun? Well, I'm sure you did, and it usually doesn't bother me, but today is definitely an exception! I used to be inside almost all the time when I lived around here, so I never knew how vicious the sun was up here! Out of all the things that have happened thus far, I think the sun is definitely the worst." Sariel attempted making conversation on their way home, which wasn't going so well. He was bad at talking a lot and as he discovered the night before, when he babbled on it did more harm than good. Truthfully, he wanted to ask Michael about what had happened overnight, but he didn't figure it was a good time to ask. It was too soon. However, his mouth just kept on going.

The way home from the palace was so far though, he was running out of things to talk about and it just got quiet. It wasn't exactly awkward, but Sariel felt like something had to be said. "U-Um, Michael. Did you know that I have a little snore when I sleep sometimes? W-Well, I'm sure you did. I guess that means I'm super overweight!" Sariel nervously laughed. "It's funny because I'm not at all overweight, right? Actually, I think I'm pretty underweight, so it's weird, right Michael?" Sariel glanced up at Michael, glad to see even a bit of color in his face. "You know what else, I'm glad to see you walking around. Honestly, I thought I wouldn't be able to get you up anymore. Which I'd be fine with, whatever you want, of course! However, I-I was just a bit nervous that because of..." Sariel's voice trailed off and his seemingly peppy face came to something more worried. His feet kept walking, but his mind seemed to stop. Ask him, ask him. Now was the time, right? "Michael, why did you do that?" He spoke, his eyes staring into a bundle of trees ahead of the two but he may have been spaced out too. Sariel didn't even know exactly what he was looking at. "I just don't understand why you would...-" Sariel snapped out of his weird moment, he couldn't ask. That was probably information Michael didn't want to share and he didn't have to. God, how insensitive was Sariel, his sister had just died! What an idiot., he couldn't believe he slipped up. Sariel frantically tried to save the conversation and himself really, "N-No, wait! I mean, never mind. What I meant to say was, I'm so happy you're doing well, because I'm not! D-Did you know I have this little scab in my nose that keeps coming back to haunt me when the weather changes? A-And it's super awful here, because the weather is whatever, whenever!" The house was coming into the picture and Sariel almost jumped at the sight. He needed to get out of this awkward situation, do something, anything, to get on a new subject or to not have to talk at all. That would be preferred. "Oh look, the house! What a relief, phew, I bet you are super tired! You definitely need to relax for a bit, you deserve it completely!" Sariel nodded, pointing at the cute little villa with a shaky voice. Maybe they both should just let the whole injury thing go, Sariel didn't need to know what Michael was doing, Michael didn't need to know what Sariel was doing, anything of the like didn't need to be known. However, that was how it would be in a perfect world and of course that wasn't what the two lived in.

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┏━━━━━━━✦✦✦━━━━━━━┓
❁ Who am I with ❁:Raphael & Michael - Michael
❁ Where am I ❁:The brothers' palace - Home
❁ You make me feel ❁: Nervous
❁ Mood Maker ❁:
❁ OOC ❁: ~*~*~*another terrible reply making way downtown; posting slow; not proofreading; and im hellbound ((sad piano)) *~*~* oh gosh im so sorry work has been so busy D: GO ON STRIKE 11!! and thank you so much though ;; IM TRYIN TO KEEP MY HEAD UP BC IM ROCKIN MY CLASSES AT LEAST SO IDK I WILL SURVIVE ((sings i will survive))) ((( i am feeling very musical for it being midnight)))
┗━━━━━━━✦✦✦━━━━━━┛

“Theleme"

[Chaos_Nightmare_Fox]

XXX

❝xxI'm lucky if I ever see the light of day again
my sin is choking me, my crude built walls are closing in
This cell is filled with claw marks easing me, their teasing me,
they told me so I didn't know the fall would be this easy.....

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XXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxXXXXXXXXYour way to life has only showed me what a fool I am
It serves the purpose of confirming I remain condemned
And I will ever linger on the edge
Unless you hear me!
!XX❞


☛ ● ● ● Azzael | Uzziel | Carivean
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Azzael shivered from the sound of the distant howl, the angel did not like the sound cause it seemed to eerie for his personal taste. Shaking off the chills, the blonde gave a slight sigh as he turned and started walking with the others. When they arrived at the dining area, the angel settled in a chair closest to a window, the night sky was wonderful tonight so he wanted to keep it in sight. As he sat there food was brought out and set on the table, Azazel's stomach rumbled at the sight of the food, with cauious movements he selected a apple for the time being. Taking the apple he stood to his feet as to move closer to the window were he sat on the seal and gazed up at the night sky, the moonlight streaming in, setting a soft glow to the snow white feathers of the angel's wings.

Azzael sat in silence while he ate the apple, a since of peace settling over the creature as he allowed himself to drift away from this moment. To let the pain, and past slip away, if even for a short period of time. When he had finished his apple and came back to the present, the male looked to the others another sigh leaving his lips. Azzael shook his head before he open the window and climbed out, where he then opened his wings and took to the air. The blonde did not go high into the sky, he was just hovering off the ground by a couple of feet enjoying the breeze as it flowed through his feathers.

The blonde wished to be alone for a short amount of time, he should have ate more yet the feel of peace for the first time in such a long time was unsettling for the creature. It was just a feeling that he was not use to anymore, landing a short distance from the house he climbed to the top of a tree to gaze up at the sky. Azzael stretched his wings out wide as he looked up at the moon, it felt really good to stretch his wings and just breathe for a moment.

Taking in the night air, the blonde closed his eyes and began to hum a very soft melody, a tune quite old that he learned during his time in heaven. It was a sad melody, yet a soothing one all the same. Quite complex to some when played on a piano or flute, Azzael just swayed back and forth in the tree as he hummed the soft melody in peaceful serenity.




❝xx How long until I find the strength to stand
I wait for mercy in your bleeding hand
I know they'll come with what I'm owed-guilty as charged
My enemies belittle me reminding me the penalty of all my deeds despite my pleas is death xx❞
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desert cat1

[n0ctrne]

ꜜ I saw the devil today, and he looked a lot like me

ϻīͼϦαҽɭxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

ʄᶏᶅᶅᶒϞ Ⱥɍƈɦanɠϵl

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Michael was led from the palace, Sariel’s hand in his. The younger angel shielded his eyes, complaining of the sun and continuing on into a one-sided conversation. Michael smiled down at Sariel, enjoying the sound of his voice, but saying nothing; he would only manage to ruin things even further. He always did.

Paranoid thoughts and worry began to cloud his mind. All he could think of was how his siblings and Sariel would be hurt because of him, but he managed to focus on Sariel’s words, chasing it all away for a few moments at a time. Eventually, however, Sariel asked a question that shattered the light, comfortable air that had formed. He’d questioned why Michael had done “that”, and the older man wasn’t such a fool to be unaware of what was being referred to. Sariel wanted to know why he had harmed himself. He supposed he should have expected this.

But Sariel dropped it, changing the subject, speaking of Michael doing “well” and the weather. He didn’t understand. Did Sariel feel he shouldn’t ask? Sariel had every right to do so. He was Michael’s love, not to mention his master. Michael should not be permitted to keep any secrets from Sariel, yet here he was. This was not even the only one, either.

Michael felt disgusting, the guilt racking up as it always did. He was lying to Sariel by omission. He was betraying Sariel in keeping things from him, wasn’t he? Sariel was the one Michael loved and trusted above all, but he was also the one he withheld the most from. However, wouldn’t it only hurt Sariel more to tell him what Michael had planned? Wouldn’t it cause even more heartache to tell him that the once-fallen angel would take his life after Sariel left, that he had thoughts of doing it beforehand?

The house came into view, and Sariel seemed to light up at the sight of it, spouting off on how Michael should rest. His words seemed overeager, strained, and Michael shook his head, squeezing Sariel’s hand. He led Sariel with him to the now-dry bedding, letting his smaller hand go only to reach up and retrieve the sheets. Concern threatened to take over, and he was comforted only by Sariel’s pale blur in his peripheral vision.

Working the fabric off from the branch, he sighed at the blotches of sickly orange-pink staining them, and his mind began to wander. Should he tell Sariel his reasons for harming himself, why he was trying to atone? He worried that it would only upset Sariel, but hadn’t the damage already been done? He swallowed nervously, turning to glance at Sariel. His gaze came back to focus on his work, “I must pay for my sins and failures. That is why I did what I did last night.” He pulled the last sheet from where it hung, but he remained where he stood, “I had hoped, that if I began to atone, it might appease Father. It is the only way I can think of that you, Anna and my brothers may be spared.” Turning to Sariel, he thought on what he was about to say. A deep anger at the horrible creature he was caused him to shake, but he let out a shaky sigh, trying to quell the trembling, “I am the cause for all of the heartache. I desire nothing more than for those I love to be happy, but around me, they always suffer. I corrupt, destroy and murder everything I touch and everyone I love, especially you.”

His voice was thick with both hatred and despair, his tone rising with anger, “I am the reason you became ill and died. I am the reason you have lost favor with your father and will be sent to Hell. Every time that you hurt, that you are sad, that you suffer, it is because of me. It is because of me that Uriel perished, that Rebekah became the way she was, that Gabriel was killed and both Raphael and Anna died.” He pointed to himself, but his gaze wandered to the glinting, golden sword left abandoned in the grass. It was stained with Sariel’s blood now, and that only furthered his desire to impale himself repeatedly and destroy his insides, until not even Raphael could save him. But he fought the urge, eyes glossy and shifting back to Sariel, “I am the reason Lucifer fell, and I am the reason she is dead now! She was never the devil. It was me; it will always be me.”

The self-directed rage fell from his voice, and he seemed to slump in on himself. He had screamed at Sariel. Granted, his fury had been directed at no one but himself, but he had still had made Sariel endure it. He shook his head and held his face in his hand. He had made everything worse. He knew it. Sariel would now be even more miserable and unhappy in their remaining time together, however long that may be. “I should have died and rotted in that cage, like an unwanted dog. For that is what I am, and far worse,” it took him a moment to realize that he’d voiced that out loud. No, no. Shut up. He shouldn’t have said that. He shouldn’t have said most of what he did. He always ruined things.

He looked to the sword once more, then beyond it to a pair of mangled, black wings, dead and hidden in the brush. Sariel had only asked about the night before, why he injured himself. That was all Michael should burden him with.

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←
Located: Eden – Home
With: Sariel
Music: Silent Crying
OOC: omg posting this on my phone, so god only knows what's going up here

→

ꜛ I looked away, I turned away

Gakurankun

[palesprout]

xx ✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡

xxxx↣Runners in a RAINSTORM↣ To try to cross ENEMY lines ↣
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI love you, do you LOVE ME ?-- But are we REACHING our POTENTIAL? ↣

Michael led the two to the trees that seemed to wear the blood clotted sheets with pride. How awful they looked, but Sariel supposed that just made them more 'Michael and Sariel' like. The stains would haunt the two forever, however long that may be, and remind Michael constantly of his actions. Sariel sighed, Michael’s hand falling out of Sariel’s own to take them off the branches. Sariel looked down for a moment, that single moment Michael’s back was turned away and he could think. He tilted his head a bit to see the sword in the picture. He figured he should get rid of that thing, it was treacherous. It seemed like it was cursed, caused both in the pair ultimate destruction and sadness. If it just disappeared, it would all stop. No, it wasn’t that easy, it couldn’t be.

A hoarse voice began to speak up, Sariel turning his head back to look at Michael, still slumped over and appearing weak. He was telling his reasons for his actions. Sariel did want to know, but he didn’t want Michael to feel obligated to tell him. Sariel wasn’t exactly planning to tell him he was the one who stabbed himself, so Michael shouldn’t have to tell Sariel anything. Dammit, if only Sariel hadn’t spoken at all, this could have been avoided. The night was terrifying for Michael, he was sure of it. How selfish of him to think it was okay to even think to ask let alone actually ask. He’d wished Michael hadn’t spoken up, which was a first.

He figured if he was in pain, no one else would be. He thought he caused everything. He was wrong. Michael was so wrong. Sariel took a step closer to Michael as if he were about to comfort him, but paused in his tracks as Michael’s voice began to rise. Sariel took back that step, hands and knees slamming together as if he was nervous he was the cause of that anger or, though it wasn’t likely, that he would be injured. But Sariel still listened, trying to understand. His anger wasn’t directed at Sariel but himself. He just needed someone to hear him, and he did. Sariel heard him. His shoulders dropped from their tenacious state and he retook the step, approaching Michael through his continuing rage.

“She was never the devil. “

No. She wasn’t the devil.

“It was me; It will always be me.”

No. He wasn’t the devil either.

Sariel slid his hand on top of one of Michael’s shoulders, rubbing the side gently with his nurturing eyes, the light blues standing out to further his innocence. He opened his mouth to speak as Michael melted into himself, “Michael, this is-“

“I should have died and rotted in that cage, like an unwanted dog. For that is what I am, and far worse,”

Sariel’s hand dropped, his innocent blues twisting into something seeming to be more corrupt, more painful. His left eye began to twitch slightly, lip curling into a scowl with his eyebrows arched both up and down. Was he serious? Sariel put in everything, everyone did. They all loved Michael, how many times did he have to tell him? He loved Michael. His left foot stepped back, but he didn’t move, watching Michael look to the sword, longingly almost. No. Dammit, no! He didn’t understand how much everyone tried to make him happy, they loved him that’s why! He was just so stuck in this world, his world, that he couldn’t leave. No matter where he was; in Sariel’s arms, with Gabriel, having Anna pound on his chest like a child, in paradise, he wouldn’t be happy. He couldn’t. If he left this world, would he be happy? Would he finally be happy, being alone? That wasn’t right, he wanted out of that cage and Sariel knew it. Oh God, but then why would he say such a thing? How could he say such a thing to Sariel?

How could he.

Sariel’s face was beet red but almost purple, his look of disbelief turned into pure anger. He had never felt so furious with Michael, so offended. He lifted his hand, slapping Michael’s face away from his needy stares to the sword and beyond that. The clap resonated throughout their ears, Sariel’s tingling along with his hand but he didn’t care. He didn’t notice even. “How dare you say something like that. How dare you.” Sariel said in a low tone of superiority. He sounded almost like his father. “I try to make you feel so loved, so welcomed, at peace. I know many others do the same. We do it because we love you. We want those consequences, whatever they may be. If we hated you, we would just say it. Do you understand that or do I need to keep repeating it until I am gone? Should I repeat it afterwards too?” Sariel waited for a moment, stepping closer to Michael. “Well?” he urged with his hands pulling Michael down to his height by the collar of his shirt, almost frighteningly. The innocence in his eyes seemed to disappear, the deep blues seemed almost black and heartless. Maybe he was heartless, scolding Michael like this. Sariel wouldn’t be here much longer anyways, if he wasn’t going to pound it into him now, who else would?

Sariel gave up waiting, ripping his vexed gaze off of Michael and to the sword. “That’s what you want right, over there?” Sariel taunted, glancing back to Michael quickly and back to the sword with a hand pointing at it. His opposite hand freed Michael and he walked the short distance to the sword, grabbing hold of it’s blade tightly in his hand. The blade broke skin, but Sariel’s eyes didn’t let go of his target, Michael. He walked back seemingly faster than he left his planted ground. He looked down to the sword for a moment, his red face becoming almost white because it felt all the blood in his body had rushed to his head. The sword glistened just a little through the stains on it. So much pain had already happened, but none of them were dead. They weren’t gone.

“You might as well.” Sariel said out loud, answering his own thoughts. He swallowed hard, the bit of innocence crying out in his eyes but being eaten away at by the darkness. He lifted his face up to meet Michael’s, holding out the handle of the sword to him.

Now.

“Then just damn me already.” He shortly spoke.

He nodded, his anger still there but something else was there. “You want to be happy, right? Everyone wants to be happy. Everyone wants you to be happy.” Sariel inched closer, the blade skimming his chest now. Sariel bit his lip in anger, which was a feeling he didn’t normally rip at for, but he did. Maybe he wasn’t angry, but nervous. He was sure somewhere inside he was nervous. He knew it. “So if you want to die? If you think that will make you happy? Hurry up and get rid of me so you can do it. Use me so you can achieve that feeling finally.” Sariel shut his eyes for a moment, swallowing once more. He opened his eyes to reveal fear swirling in the mixture though his eyebrows were still stern. His hand holding the sword was shaking, his heart pounding. “Damn me, Michael. It is for your own good. I want you to be happy, and now? With me here with you, with everyone here with you. It isn’t good enough. I’ll never be good enough. You need to take control of yourself and feel the pain you so think you deserve, that’s the only way. You want to suffer, so be it.” Sariel’s strong façade began to fade, his voice cracking lightly and his shoulders jumping with his nose sucking up air. “If I go, you can go. That’s what you think, right? So do it.”

“Damn me, Michael.”

Sariel looked at Michael, his eyes dark with red ripping at the edges, his eyebrows arched like he was testing Michael, preparing for the Judgement of Michael. “Just do it.” He echoed out slowly, articulating his words as if to drill them down into Michael. His eyes were now dropping large bubbles of tears, but he managed to keep his face, his pride. “Be the hero you want to be, you think you’ll be. Achieve your happiness, although it won’t be with me. That’s what you want right, to be free?”

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❁ Who am I with ❁:Michael
❁ Where am I ❁:"Home"
❁ You make me feel ❁:Nervous yet Indignant
❁ Mood Maker ❁:
❁ OOC ❁: I D I D NT MEAN FOR THIS TO BE THE SHIA LEBOUF SPEECH BUT IT ENDED UP THAT WAY AND I WANNA DIE
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“Theleme"

[n0ctrne]

ꜜ I saw the devil today, and he looked a lot like me

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ʄᶏᶅᶅᶒϞ Ⱥɍƈɦanɠϵl

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Michael watched Sariel’s face shift before him. The younger angel’s innocent, gentle features morphed into disbelief, twisting then into anger and hurt. No no no. He had hurt Sariel again. He failed. He made everything worse. Oh God, why did he have to say anything? He should know by now; when he spoke, it only brought ruin.

He was such a fool. Brows furrowing, he opened his mouth to apologize, but caught himself. He really shouldn’t say anything else, not even an apology. He’d done it so many times, it must be meaningless to Sariel, anyway. Instead, he cast his gaze to the ground, hanging his head. He didn’t know what to do.

His head whipped to the side, a slap resounding. His cheek stung from the impact, and he turned to see Sariel’s face red with rage. The angel was furious. Michael had never seen him so upset like this. The older man began to worry, but his attention was captured by Sariel’s voice.

“How dare you say something like that. How dare you.”

Michael felt horrible. He could hear the pain ring through in Sariel’s voice, and it made him want to die. He had truly destroyed things this time, hadn’t he?

Sariel continued, stepping closer and yanking Michael down to his level. He seemed to be waiting for an answer, but Michael made no efforts to speak, afraid of worsening things. Sariel was right to be angry with him. He was an ungrateful fool. Both Sariel and his family had given up everything for him, and he wouldn’t even repay them by appreciating it? He knew they loved him, and yet he made them suffer even more by harming himself. Then again, it was because of him that they suffered at all. If he was out of the picture, perhaps—

No. He shouldn’t leave them, right? But—

God, he didn’t know. No decision he would ever make would be right.

Sariel’s darkened stare left him, settling on the stained, golden sword. The angel spoke, his tone mocking, and he moved to retrieve the weapon. It made Michael nervous, the all-too-familiar tightness of panic returning to grip at his throat. Sariel held the sword by its blade, drawing blood, and alarms went off in Michael’s head. He feared for Sariel, feared he would hurt himself, whether intentionally or by accident.

Sariel returned to him, offering him the sword’s grip. Michael looked on with brows drawn low. He didn’t understand this, and he certainly didn’t like the fact that the blade was angled at Sariel.

“Then just damn me already.”

Michael blanched. He unconsciously stepped back, shock and horror dawning on his face, what? No, this was what he dreaded, what he feared the most. He didn’t want Sariel to experience that, to suffer in Hell. The younger angel deserved none of that. On the other hand, however, if Michael didn’t damn Sariel, he’d suffer even more.

Michael’s features twisted with despair, but as Sariel continued, he discovered that this wasn’t a command. He watched Sariel, his eyes filled with tears and lips forming words. He listened carefully, but he shook his head. Damning Sariel, dying, that would not make him happy. Harming himself was something that had to be done. It may have provided some sort of relief, but it didn’t truly make him happy. His contentment was something he considered irrelevant; Sariel’s happiness was all he was concerned with. But he only seemed to fail at striving for it. Sariel wanted him to be happy, so would that, in turn, make Sariel happy?

Michael took a moment, thinking on what brought him joy.

Sariel. It was Sariel that made him happy, being with him.

He took the sword, glaring down at the cursed thing. It wasn’t beyond him to suspect that Metatron had, indeed, cursed it. Gabriel would probably be able to tell. He hoisted it up above his head and drove the blade down deep into the ground, up to the guard. There. Now anyone wanting to use it would have quite the time with it. He’d just have to remember to attempt pulling it out the next time Gabriel came around. Maybe he could seal or destroy it.

He returned his attention to Sariel, closing the gap between them. Bringing a careful hand to the other’s face, he wiped away the tears and cupped his cheeks in his palms. He leaned down to capture Sariel’s lips, but broke the kiss, realizing Sariel was probably still upset and afraid, unaware of the decision Michael had come to.

He supposed he was having what Anna would call a “blonde moment”.

Pressing their foreheads together, he watched Sariel’s eyes, softening his features. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was a look of peace. The fear of speaking up still lingered, but he fought it back, his voice low and timid, “I am sorry; I am afraid Gabriel is the ‘intelligent one’.” He pulled back to place a kiss on Sariel’s head, “I love you, Sariel. Seeing you happy, being with you, is what brings me joy.”

A somber look came over him, staring into the distance, thinking of what was to come, but his eyes returned to Sariel, the expression of peace along with it. “When the time comes, I am coming with you. I do not care where, I want to be at your side. That is what makes me happy.”

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←
Located: Eden – Home
With: Sariel
Music: Silent Crying
OOC: aaand Michael finally gets a damn clue

→

ꜛ I looked away, I turned away

Gakurankun

[palesprout]

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xxxx↣Runners in a RAINSTORM↣ To try to cross ENEMY lines ↣
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI love you, do you LOVE ME ?-- But are we REACHING our POTENTIAL? ↣

Michael had ripped the sword away, planting it in the ground. Sariel just got frustrated, questioning to himself why he did such a thing. Wasn't he going to do it? The only way for Michael to achieve happiness was through this process, so why wasn't he going for it? Truthfully though, if Michael put Sariel in that position, he probably wouldn't have done it either. Tense shoulders felt like they wanted to slump over in some sort of relief, but they didn't. Instead, he stayed almost frozen, his lips pushed together into a thin line and his eyebrows stern, but a bit confused now. He couldn't understand why Michael wouldn't just go through with it, everything would be over.

But he turned back, wiping Sariel's few tears. He was embarrassed that he was crying, but he could have been bawling like normal. Michael's eyes seemed like they were smiling at him. God, why was he looking like that? Sariel was still a bit furious, but some sort of feeling inside told him that was a good thing. Even so, he'd gotten so angry his face was still red. Calloused lips graced his own and he couldn't help but return the kiss. He hated how easily he could give in. Michael pulled back, Sariel's deepened eyes now sporting a look of guilt. Guilt was eating away at him now, how could he even yell at Michael like that, slap him? He was a fool, treating him like his tool. He lowered his head a bit, afraid to look at Michael in the eyes. Sariel probably only made Michael feel worse about himself, which isn't what he wanted to do. At least, not exactly.

He seemed alright though, despite it all. Showering Sariel in sweet words, he sunk down a bit more. He shouldn't be so nice to him after he just threw the biggest fit in history. Well, in his history. Regardless, it wasn't very nice and Michael didn't seem to care at all. Sariel was his happiness, he reaffirmed that, but would it stay like that? Innocent blue peeked up at Michael, who looked calm and other out of this world type things. He looked as if he found some sort of peace, which Sariel was a bit scared it could have been for the worse, but it seemed to be fine.

"When the time comes, I am coming with you."

No. No, he certainly was not. Sariel shook his head and grabbed Michael's arm, almost pleading. "But Michael, then you'll-" He stopped himself. He couldn't win every battle. He so badly wanted Michael to stay here, if he killed himself, would he be damned or just dead? He didn't know exactly what would happen. If Michael stayed, Sariel knew he would be safe. But that wouldn't be how things worked, acceptance needed to happen now. Michael knew being with Sariel was his happiness, Sariel wanted nothing but Michael's happiness. If he told him to stay, wouldn't that just make him more unhappy? Sariel smiled a bit, still afraid to look at Michael straight in the eye. "One step at a time, Sariel." He whispered to himself. Pale, slender fingers let go of Michael's arms, shaking a bit as they pulled back. He lifted his face, still looking down a bit. "Uh...Yes, if..." He swallowed, lost in concerned thought for a moment. "If that's truly what you desire, I'll allow it." Sariel nodded, posture prim and proper.

It wasn't really a type of situation Sariel needed to 'allow', but he said that anyway. Michael didn't have to listen to him, even if he said no he knew Michael would probably find some way to do it. The only reason he thought of agreeing was the fact the two always come back together in the end. Somehow, they would hold hands once more, no matter what the outcome was.

Sariel stood, still with perfect posture. He lingered for a moment, lifting his eyes to fully connect with Michael's. He stared for a moment, then yanked Michael into a huge hug, one that Michael couldn't even give back because he wrapped his arms into it as well. "I am so sorry, Michael. I-I didn't mean to be so harsh, I just-" The pristine posture slumped against Michael, his warmth so inviting and calming to Sariel as always. "I love you and I want you to be the happiest you can be because you really deserve it. When you are happy and bright, it makes us want to love you even more and then you beat yourself up over being happy because you feel you don't deserve it and it makes people around you upset because you don't realize how important, and special, and perfect you are." Sariel pulled back slowly, biting down on his lip and looking at Michael with desperation. Soft palms slid down Michael's arms, grabbing his hands. "That was a mouthful, I know, but it's true Michael! When you're happy, everyone else around you is as well. I only wish you could see yourself in my eyes for just one day, because I don't see the devil. I see my angel."

Sariel let go of Michael's hands, scratching the back of his head. The red in his face had disappeared, but some lingered in his cheeks for a moment. "Aha...T-That was corny, right?" He only hoped he could somehow save Michael. There was no hope for him, but there was for Michael. What Michael didn't understand was, if Sariel had fallen in love with any other man he would be going through the same situation. It was not his fault at all. Sariel's eyes rolled to catch a view of the balled up sheets and blankets on the floor. No, these wouldn't do. There were still huge stains. They would do more harm than good. Perhaps they might as well just get rid of the sheets all together and never stay warm again. No, that was ridiculous. What could he do then, these would certainly remind Michael of many things he didn't have any interest in remembering. Or at least, Sariel knew he didn't want to remember. It was horrifying to find Michael laying there, motionless. He didn't even respond to Sariel's voice until hours later. It was absolutely worse for Michael, he knew it.

Sariel spoke up timidly, more gently with his words now than ever before. Evidently he felt he had to recuperate from his outburst. "Let's get rid of those sheets, alright? I know where we may be able to get some different ones." Sariel said nodding. He turned his porcelain face back to Michael, "Could you take me back to that field like area we went to before? I know the way from there, but I'm not sure how to get there from here." Sariel softly spoke. He hovered his hand over Michael's, a bit nervous still. "I-Is it alright to hold your hand while going as well? If we can go, I mean." Sariel mumbled shyly. It was almost like he had ran back to square one with Michael, asking for permission to do silly things. He was afraid of making another mistake and harming Micheal, scaring him, hurting him, angering him, anything. Michael didn't deserve such an outburst, he had to be careful with him.




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┏━━━━━━━✦✦✦━━━━━━━┓
❁ Who am I with ❁:Michael
❁ Where am I ❁:"Home"
❁ You make me feel ❁:Nervous and guilty
❁ Mood Maker ❁:
❁ OOC ❁: MICHAEL STAY HAPPY U LITTLE FGDFHGJDFH
sorry this is short ;; im rushed because homecoming is tonight and b jfdvhdfjh i JUST DIDNT WANNA POST IT TOMORROW AND HAVE YOU WAIT AAAAAAAAAA ,, ,(((im yelling in 99% of these ooc slots i want to cry) )
┗━━━━━━━✦✦✦━━━━━━┛

“Theleme"

[n0ctrne]

ꜜ I saw the devil today, and he looked a lot like me

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ʄᶏᶅᶅᶒϞ Ⱥɍƈɦanɠϵl

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Michael nestled into the hug, reveling in Sariel’s warmth and the beat of his heart. The younger man apologized, but there was truly no reason to. Michael had more than deserved to be scolded. He was stupid and senseless, and the things he said only proved that to be true. He needed to be screamed at. Far too many tines he’d been allowed to commit errors without correction, and Sariel’s reprimand had caused him to realize something vital.

Sariel showered him with loving words, claiming he was special and perfect, but Michael deserved none of it. Still, it warmed his heart, brought a smile to tug at his lips. It both hurt and comforted to know Sariel loved him so deeply. Of course, Michael loved the younger angel just as much, unconditionally. Sariel could abuse him, even take away his family, and would still love him, remain loyal to him. He knew Sariel would never do such things, though.

Sariel pulled away, and Michael felt his hands fall from his own. He found himself yearning for the soft warmth, but he focused on Sariel’s face, his blushing cheeks. It only made him want to capture his lips once again. He followed Sariel’s eyes to the stained sheets, catching the disapproval in his gaze. The angel proposed discarding the ruined sheets, going to get new ones. Though confused as to where they would be able to get bedsheets, he nodded in agreement. He couldn’t help but feel awful that they needed to be replaced; it was his fault, after all. Sariel had liked those sheets, too. He felt he should apologize, but he held his tongue. It might upset Sariel.

The smaller man asked to be led back to the meadow they’d encountered before, questioning if it was okay to hold his hand. A small smile spread on Michael’s lips, dancing in his eyes. Of course it was! He grasped Sariel’s hand, interlocking their fingers, “of course.” Leaning down, he stole a kiss from Sariel’s lips and pulled away only to get lost in his blue eyes, a pleasant and peaceful look to his own features. He broke the gaze to start on their journey.

Walking through the groves of trees and flowers, the back of his neck began to tingle and itch more than once. He brought his free hand to the area to discover it hot, some sort of pattern rising on the skin. It was odd, but he didn’t pay it much mind. There were no hostile entities here that could cause something like that. It was likely just some persistent insect biting him. Though, pests like that usually ignored him, could tell he wasn’t a human or animal. It faded away after a while, however, so he didn’t let it concern him.

They reached the stream to walk along it. Michael picked a honeysuckle bloom from its bush, tucking it behind Sariel’s ear, in his hair, and kissed his head, leading him where the forest began to thin. The air was sweet with flowers in bloom, bees and other pollinating insects going about their work. He grinned, thinking of how Anna would react. He felt bad for finding her fright at all amusing, but she was so fearless against actual threats that he found it strange. His eyes fell to Sariel, and he debated speaking up, breaking the silence. Though he usually enjoyed listening over talking, he wondered if starting a conversation would help relax Sariel.

He glanced to a bumblebee crawling into a trumpet vine flower, “this would be a nightmare to Anna.” He smiled down at Sariel, squeezing his hand, “she has attacked grown men twice her size, threatened to castrate both Gabriel and I, and has struck a Norse deity on more than one occasion.” Chuckling, he gestured at the insects around them, “yet, a bee, wasp or arachnid comes anywhere near her, and she flees.” The meadow’s long grass and vibrant wildflowers coming into view past the trees, he gazed fondly down at Sariel once more, “I love you, Sariel. I always will.”

They stepped into the field, the sun both warming and nearly blinding Michael. It was just a little past noon, he supposed, judging by the sun’s bright position in the sky. A breeze rustled the grass around their feet, and, squinting against the light, he spotted a doe and two fawns grazing in the distance. Nudging Sariel, he felt as if the sight was some sort of blessing given to them, despite that it wasn’t that rare of an occurrence. It simply made him feel at peace. He pointed at the animals, his voice a gentle whisper, “look.” His smile grew, showing teeth and stretching to his eyes.

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←
Located: Eden – the meadow
With: Sariel
Music:
OOC: well, this is filler crap lol and I just have this feeling that they’re about to get nailed – oh, I found out how to link Sariel and Michael on charahub. It was actually pretty simple, so I’m just dumb lmao. I set it up, the link is just waiting your approval.

→

ꜛ I looked away, I turned away

Gakurankun

[palesprout]

xx ✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡----✡

xxxx↣Runners in a RAINSTORM↣ To try to cross ENEMY lines ↣
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI love you, do you LOVE ME ?-- But are we REACHING our POTENTIAL? ↣

He tried to take a deep breath, calm down a little. Everything was to be alright. Michael led the two throughout the forest, passing the greens that had a white shining through it’s breaks. The sun hurt Sariel’s eyes, but he couldn’t help but keep staring. The bark was incredibly black, though, crumbling off a select few of the timbers. It only went to show how old the land was, as old as time and probably before even. Eventually, Sariel turned to face forward though, tilting his head to look at Michael from the corner of his eye and smiled. Thankfully Michael seemed happy. He didn’t know how long it would last, but he was going to take whatever he could get.

After dilly dallying a bit with a flower now in his hair, Michael spoke up to tell a not so heroic story about Anna. Sariel chuckled a bit, surprised about how frantic she could get at something so small. She seemed manlier than himself, so he wondered how she got that fear. Then again, she lived in a totally different place than he and Michael, so he had to give it up to her. At least she wasn’t afraid of her father.

The fields hit the two with tall grass tickling Sariel’s arms and a sun that nearly blinded him but it wasn’t anything a hand shield couldn’t fix. He felt Michael nudge him, which was an unfamiliar feeling because Michael’s motions have never been so childish. It wasn’t a bad thing though. Sariel turned to Michael and saw his hand extended to beyond the East of Eden that had the sun seated at it’s treetops. His hand dropped like a feather as his eyes tried to adjust what was beyond the framework of the fields. It didn’t take much time to realize it had been a family of deer staring back at the two. Sariel quietly gasped and almost glued himself to Michael, using him as a stand or something to help him from not falling over. “Oh my Gosh, they’re so precious!” Sariel attempted in a whisper-shout. “I tried to ride one once when I was a younger,” Sariel started, still in a whisper though the bundle was yards away. He turned to Michael, looking with a slight cringe on his face. “that didn’t end up so well, though.”

Thinking about the incident was a bit nerve wracking, remembering the deer totally flinging him off and Sariel’s nose breaking in the process. Of course, it healed, but God it was not a nice thing to remember. He was foolish anyway though, who in their right mind would just ride a deer? Sariel rubbed his forehead in disbelief at his silly actions once more, turning back out to the field. “We have to walk out this way for a bit, but it’s not too far if I’m remembering right.” Sariel said, still laughing a bit. He looked out at the light brown creatures as they came more to view as he led Michael across the meadow. He barely breathed, “They really are beautiful though, aren’t they.”

Turned out Sariel didn’t remember right and it definitely was longer than expected. The greens started turning into dusty blues and faded stains that decorated everything in sight almost. The whole area seemed dead, completely absent. “Sorry, we’re almost there!” That was about the fifth time he’d said that though. A huge set of weeping willows that almost seemed white were towering over everything like it was an overseer. Sariel nodded to himself like he was proud of his find, “I knew we were almost here! Watch your step, alright?” Sariel turned to warn Michael as he let go to walk through the trees.

Under their feet was nothing but debris and ruins, large marbled pieces blown off and cracking. On the other side of the trees were large golden gates though they were torn down. It definitely made it easy to access what was on the other side. “Let’s try to be quick, who knows what could be around here. Maybe some of those radioactive creature things Anna likes?” Sariel stressed with a serious look on his face, though he was joking. He grabbed Michael’s hand once again, trying to avoid the shards on buildings on the ground. Up in view was a marbled castle that seemed to be the source of a lot of the ruins. Half of it’s roof was blown out with the ceiling probably caved in on the interior. Sariel approached the building with caution but still entered, pushing it’s elegant, peeling doors opened.

The inside was dark despite small specks of light clawing through the falling ceiling. Surprisingly enough, at least half of it was in tact. Sariel looked around the place in amazement though he figured he should stay at least walking on track. Eventually an opened door came into view, though it was hidden in a little crevice in the hallway. Sariel’s free hand moved up to hover his bottom lip, eyes widening at the room in confusion as to why it was opened. He peeked around the entrance though and found nothing in sight.

He entered the room, “Quickly.” Sariel spoke up, moving over to a ginormous bed that could probably fit all of Michael’s relatives for a gigantic sleep-over but that thinking just showed Sariel read some weird stuff. “We just need to rip these off and probably smack them a few times to get the dust off but it shouldn’t be too bad. They won’t really fit thinking about it though-” Sariel groaned a bit, knowing they would have to fold the blankets over and stuff to at least get a decent fit but withdrew his dissatisfaction. “No, No. That’s alright. We'll make due!” He said, shaking his head as if to get the thought out.

The two stood in his old room, a vanity sitting with no mirror in it’s frame, a closet with oddly bright doors for it’s age and dusty rugs with his molding bed frame. He didn’t exactly want to play around because one, he wasn’t sure how safe he felt there, and two, he totally underestimated the time it would take to get there and back. He wanted to make it back home with some sort of daylight still holding on.

The sheets began to be lifted, floating in the air for a second as Sariel whipped them up. He began to cough because all of the residue left on the top, but he wasn’t going to die or anything. The bedding just a simple baby blue with velvet black flowers patterned across the top. He was about to begin folding them up to carry them along with him until a large brown shape caught his eye, sparkling almost. His eyes widened, it was hard to tell if in horror or astonishment.

“Maxwell!!” He jumped as he dropped his process on the sheets and ran across the room to whoever ‘Maxwell’ was. “Oh, my baby has returned to me!! It has been so long!!” He moved in for a kiss, pulling back to make an obnoxious ‘mwah’ noise along with it. A cello in perfect condition layed quaintly against the wall, Sariel’s face just beaming at it. It hadn’t seemed to be there before, but Sariel didn’t pay attention to that. “Oh my goodness, it has been so long Maxwell, how have you been?!” He waited for a moment, a smile still playing on his face. “I am sorry to hear that, I have been great though, thank you so much for asking!” He replied to absolute nothingness. “Oh, Oh! I have someone I want you to meet!” Sariel said, turning to Michael with ‘Maxwell’ in grasp. “Maxwell, this is Michael and Michael this is Maxwell! He’s my cello and this, Maxwell, is my love.” He seduced in a deep, raspy voice with a cocked eyebrow pointed toward Michaelas if he were playing around with the cello. He chuckled loudly, holding his stomach. “Oh gosh- oh wow- Michael, it’s been forever! I played Maxwell all the time! He was pretty much my only friend and boy, this is going to sound weird, but I totally had a crush on him! He is only a cello right, that is so ridiculous I know!” Sariel laughed, approaching Michael with the instrument that was probably larger than himself at one point in hand. “This might be a no, but could we take him with us? I know we have a lot to carry already because these sheets are so huge, but but please please pleeeease?” Sariel pleaded, squeezing his eyes shut. “Oh, and to help my case more, I don’t actually think he talks so he wouldn’t steal me away from you or anything despite how completely irresistible he is.” Sariel added, joking once more.


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❁ Who am I with ❁:Michael & 'Maxwell'
❁ Where am I ❁:The debris of "home"
❁ You make me feel ❁: Childish
❁ Mood Maker ❁:The Best We Got
❁ OOC ❁: al so kind of filler bc i jUST WANT THIS HAPPINESS FOR ONE SE COND i am very tired and feeling weird so i channeled that into sare rn so hes weird rn talkin to cellos and s**t wtf
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“Theleme"

[n0ctrne]

ꜜ I saw the devil today, and he looked a lot like me

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ʄᶏᶅᶅᶒϞ Ⱥɍƈɦanɠϵl

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Michael’s eyes scanned over the aged and seemingly abandoned forest Sariel led him through. It was quiet. It was too still, and it put him on edge. He’d learned through many experiences that wildlife always sensed danger first. Sariel claimed they were near their destination again, and several huge willow trees came into view. Michael couldn’t help but gape up at them, their branches swaying like curtains of leaves.

Sariel tore his hand from Michael’s, taking off past the weeping willows. Michael’s eyes widened. He began to panic, concern for Sariel growing, and he ran after him. He couldn’t lose sight of Sariel. What if something were to happen? What if something was waiting for them?

He caught up to Sariel without incident, realizing his fear had been a bit absurd. He was the one that was unfamiliar with this area. And indeed, he was; he’d never seen these ruins here before, the torn-down gate or the partially demolished castle. He supposed this must have been part of Sariel’s kingdom, the one he had promised to reclaim. Michael nearly frowned, remembering that he had broken his promise. Though, many things had changed since then. He wondered how Sariel felt about it, if he was happy in their hidden, little home. Surely he’d prefer something nicer, being raised in such grandeur.

Sariel’s joke had him cracking a smile once again, and with his grasp on the other’s hand returned, he visibly relaxed. Stepping inside, the air smelled musty, dust motes dancing in what little light poured in from the ceiling. It was obviously abandoned, but it was still beautiful despite it. It held a sort of majesty. Sariel led him down a hallway, turning into a room. It was a bedroom, and the pastel blue reminded him of Sariel. Was this Sariel’s room?

His gaze darted over the area, finally settling on Sariel, who was beginning to work on the sheets. He began to approach the angel, wanting to help.

Sariel exclaimed something and ran past him, towards the wall. Michael straightened immediately with eyes wide. He scanned over their surroundings, ready to eradicate whatever dared to threaten Sariel. But there was nothing. Puzzled, Michael began to search corners and crevices, but he came to realize that Sariel was not frightened. He was happy, embracing some large string instrument against the wall. A cello, Michael believed they were called. He wasn’t one for music.

Whatever the case, Sariel seemed quite pleased. The younger angel placed a kiss on the instrument and spoke to it as if it was a sentient being. Michael tilted his head at the sight, an amused smile curling on his lips. He truly loved Sariel. Others might have found the small angel’s behavior odd, but he only found it endearing. He was happy to see Sariel so content. Tearing his attention away, he returned to folding the sheets. However, he was distracted again when Sariel “introduced” him and the cello. He smiled, laughing at the voice Sariel put on when describing him to “Maxwell”. Michael was glad Sariel had found his old friend, but it made his heart sink to know that Sariel’s only companion growing up was an inanimate object.

Sariel begged to take the instrument with them, and Michael didn’t even consider telling him no. Of course they could take it back with them, it made Sariel happy. They had much to carry, but he would manage. He nodded, “of course. He makes you happy.”

He finished folding the bedding and headed for Sariel, rubbing his shoulder and kissing the side of his head. He took a moment to gaze down lovingly at the other, “anyone would be very fortunate to have you as their friend, Sariel.” Leaning down, he picked Maxwell up by the belly, finding it far more awkward to hold than heavy. He tried to handle it as carefully as he could, but ended up cracking himself in the jaw with the scroll. Hoping he hadn’t damaged the instrument, he attempted to balance it on his shoulder, holding it by the bottom. With his back bent at an uncomfortable angle, he finally accomplished his goal. He stuffed the comforter and the largest of the blankets under his arm, but the sheets he just couldn’t manage. He turned to Sariel, a look of apology painted on his features, and asked if he could get the sheets. They shouldn’t be heavy, at least.

Walking back through the destroyed hall, Michael took another chance to glance over the regal details. He wondered what Sariel was like growing up. He feared the angel must have been awfully lonely. Did he even have any pets to keep him company? Even animals made better companions than non-living objects. Michael turned to Sariel, careful not to drop anything, “I enjoy learning more about you.” They exited into the outdoors, coming to the broken gates and continuing to the massive willows. “Did you keep any animals?” A certain spark lit in Michael’s eyes at the notion. He liked animals, enjoyed interacting with them even more than gardening. They were innocent, simple, and he was one to like caring for things. The wildlife had been his only company after his fall, before he surrendered to the slavers.

With the sun on its gradual descent, they made it through the unsettling woods by the castle, back across the meadow and blooming forest past it. Michael would glance down at Sariel periodically to ensure he was safe; it bothered him that he couldn’t hold the younger angel’s hand. Arriving at the stream, they followed the path along it, branching off to head back to their home.

The landscape was painted in the sunset’s orange, and the little house was in sight. They reached the old, gnarled walnut tree with the low branches. It was the same tree that Sariel had hung the bloodied sheets on, the same tree Michael had found Sariel stabbed under. The memory had a lump forming in Michael’s throat. He looked to Sariel, worrying and wondering exactly what had happened then. He didn’t want to ask, however, at least not now. He didn’t wish to ruin Sariel’s current contentment. He knew the important part, anyway. He knew it had been because of him.

Wait.

Where were the sheets they had left? The shaded spot beneath the tree held nothing but that golden sword, groundcover surrounding it, but he could distinctly remember leaving the stained articles there as well.

He stiffened, “Sariel, someone has been here.” He nodded towards the empty spot.

“Michael, am I showing enough cleavage?”

Michael jumped, despite that the voice had been all-too-familiar. Raphael. He suppressed a groan, merely wanting to be alone with Sariel, enjoy happy moments with him. However, he couldn’t show his displeasure. That would only give Raphael the go-ahead to bother them. He turned to give his brother the most neutral greeting he could muster.

Raphael was donned in some peculiar outfit, resembling a large and poorly made dress. Michael nodded his acknowledgement, returning his attention to Sariel.

Then he did a double-take.

Raphael had the stained sheets wrapped around himself like some kind of low-cut dress, his chest and arms bare. One blanket was tied and shaped around his head, resembling a bizarre, lopsided hat.

Michael blinked, but his expression softened into one of amusement. “What are you doing?” He couldn’t hide the laughter in his voice.

Raphael simply stepped towards Sariel, pressing his pectorals together as if they were breasts, “Sariel, am I showing enough cleavage?” His “dress” fell apart from the movement, however, and now left only in his pants and boots, he feigned a look of horror. “Oh dear,” he exaggerated his accent, “I’m exposed!” Bending down, he attempted to regather his so-called clothing, but lifted his head to shoot a glance at his brother, “why did you two randomly leave sheets on the ground?”

Michael chuckled. Though, the movement caused the neck of Sariel’s cello to fall onto his face. He had to twist his neck to maneuver away from it, “why are you wearing them?”

Blinking, Raphael answered flatly, as if wearing someone else’s sheets as a dress was the most normal thing a grown man could do, “because I can.” Michael raised a brow, and Raphael abandoned his efforts, whispering something along the lines of “screw it”. The blond stepped towards his brother. “Okay,” he grasped the instrument, despite Michael’s protests, “I can’t watch this anymore.” Freeing it from his brother’s slightly larger and calloused hands, he held Maxwell up, turning it over, “nice cello.” He turned to Sariel, “I’m guessing it’s yours, considering that Michael’s musically-retarded?”

Fearing Raphael would break the instrument, Michael snatched it from his brother’s grasp, earning an angry “hey”. “Raphael, why are you here?” He didn’t intend to be cruel, but even with as entertaining as his brother had been, he didn’t care much for his time with Sariel to be interrupted. He was certain Sariel must be growing tired of his brothers, as well.

Raphael laid a hand to his chest, feigning hurt, “you mean you don’t want me?”

Michael sighed, “I would like to spend time with Sariel.”

Raphael pouted. However, something seemed to dawn on him, his lips curling into a toothy smirk. “Oooh, you mean you wanna have sex?”

Michael’s jaw nearly dropped, eyes wide. He had paled, but his face began to redden. Had Raphael truly just out and said such a thing? Michael hadn’t even had that in mind. He simply desired to spend time with Sariel.

Raphael chuckled, but winked at his brother, “I get it, bro. I’ll see you later.” He took off at an unnatural speed, kicking up a cloud of dust in his wake.

Michael turned to Sariel, his cheeks still burning, “I deeply apologize, Sariel.” He couldn’t believe his damned brother had just ruined Sariel’s day like that. Shaking his head, he cast his eyes downward, “I am so sorry.”

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←
Located: Eden – Sariel’s castle / home
With: Sariel & Raphael
Music: Looking for a Tornado
OOC: omfg Sariel is such a cute baby I love him <3 – and I gotta admit, I kinda love Raphael sometimes

→

ꜛ I looked away, I turned away

Gakurankun