Also I got an English ivy plant for my dorm room. I have named him Aziraphale. ^^ I'm not sure I'm the best person to look after a plant though. Last Thursday I had a teensy bit of tepid tea at the bottom of my mug, but I didn't want to dump it in my garbage so I put it in the ivy instead. I figured a little tea wouldn't hurt the plant, and yeah, no good excuse there. My mom thinks I'm crazy though. *hearts her*
Mom: You watered your plant with tea.
Me: It wasn't that much! A finger at most.
Mom: You watered your plant with tea.
Me: It was just a little bit. I gave it real water before I came home.
Mom: Better hope it didn't like the tea otherwise it'll be pissed that you went back to water.
My mom is the bees' knees. *grin*
Okay, I haven't been getting much major writing done, alas. However, I think I've found a writing project that I can handle: 100 drabbles. Fun but not too detailed. Prompts have been gakked from drabbles100 and five drabbles will be posted every Sunday. I will be writing about Asmodeus/Raphael.
The drabbles will range from 100 to 500 words. Here is the first set:
001 – Beginnings: 209 words
Dusty wind. Cool desert night. Sometimes Raphael thought of his time on Earth and his travel to Media. While it wasn't Raphael's first trip to Earth, it was his first extended trip, his first time wearing a human body, his first solo mission.
It had been exhilarating. So much diversity, so many new experiences. Earth was a dizzying patchwork of fresh sensations. Being on his own without any other angels had scared Raphael, and yet it had been so exciting too. A strange sort of freedom. Except for Asmodeus, Raphael had thoroughly enjoyed being on Earth.
Ah yes, Asmodeus.
Red eyes. Pale white skin. Raphael had never met a demon before. He had fought in the Great War in Heaven, of course, but Lucifer and his followers had still been angels at that time. It wasn't until they Fell to Hell that the rebels became demons, as twisted on the outside as they were on the inside.
Twisted or not, Asmodeus was still a sight to behold. The Archdemon of Lust had a sinuous sensuous elegance, a toxic beauty. Raphael had been infected by him. There was the burn of fever, and his body ached. It felt like desire or sickness or the beginning. The beginning of the end.
002 – Middles: 100 words
Asmodeus loved Raphael's eyes. They were as green as springtime.
Raphael could get lost in those garnet eyes. They were deep and red and promised forbidden fruits.
Asmodeus liked Raphael's smile. It was right in the middle between cynical and sappy.
Raphael had seen Asmodeus in black or white clothing—whatever Earthly fashion at the time found most favorable. The angel liked the demon best in grey.
They made compromises. Asmodeus stopped pretending it was only lust. Raphael never said 'I love you.'
They met when no one was watching. Heavenly sweet and hellishly good. Earth was their middle ground.
003 – Ends: 500 words
The end came in fire.
On all sides of Asmodeus there was fighting, angels and demons literally ripping each other apart. Lucifer's Rebellion paled in comparison to this nightmarish Apocalypse.
The cacophony was maddening and inescapable. Lashing out with shadows, Asmodeus had managed to clear some space and form a perimeter. To his right was Lilith with some of her succubae, and on his left, some of Asmodeus's aides huddled, nursing their wounds and hiding behind the twisting shield of shadows.
It all ended in a flash of Light though. Shadows came apart like smoke, and even a few of the lesser succubae smoldered and shrieked in agony. Archangel Michael floated in front of Asmodeus's little group, and oh hell, that Light. It was blinding, paralyzing, and Asmodeus stood rooted to the spot. From somewhere, he heard Lilith scream at him to move, and then Michael's sword sliced through him.
There was shock and pain, of course. Asmodeus gagged on his own blood, and as he sank to his knees, he had just long enough to think that it was over—he was over.
And then he died.
Asmodeus came to consciousness with a small groan and a tired murmur. He felt like he'd been sleeping very deeply which was odd because he didn't sleep often. He was also lying down, his head cradled on something soft, and there was someone else here too. Yes, someone was carding their fingers through his hair. They were very gentle.
"Finally coming to, are you?" The voice was kind, gentle like the hands, and with the hint of a laugh lingering just below the surface. Asmodeus knew that voice.
"Raphael...?" Scarlet eyes finally opened.
"Asmodeus." Green eyes looked down at him, and Asmodeus found that he could look directly up at them. His head was resting on the angel's lap.
He glanced around, but there were no other angels or demons around besides Raphael and himself. They were in a nice place though, a pretty place. It looked like a park in spring. "Where's everyone else?"
"There is no one else."
"But I saw others falling...in droves..."
Raphael continued stroking Asmodeus's hair. "We're the only ones here as far as I can tell. I've been walking around for...well, for however long since I woke up here."
"You died too?"
"Yes. It was...so fast. Beelzebub hit me from out of nowhere." The healer gave a shaky laugh. "I daresay, I barely even saw it coming. When I first got here, I was scared, you know, scared that I was all alone. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm so happy to see you."
Asmodeus chuckled. "So we're stuck here? Together?"
A soft sigh. "So it appears."
The demon was vaguely aware that the angel's hands felt very comforting, their touch reassuring. Eternity with Raphael. Asmodeus let the thought play out across the stage of his mind and found that the idea didn't bother him half as much as it probably should have.
004 – First: 152 words
Asmodeus still remembers the first time they met. It was on the way to Media; Raphael had been asleep at the time after traveling all day with Tobias.
The demon hadn't really known Raphael in Heaven...or at least he doesn't think he did. Asmodeus's memories from before the Fall are always only half there, and they hurt if he ever lets his guard down, if he forgets to keep hating.
Raphael isn't like that. Asmodeus knows, just from seeing the angel sleeping, that Raphael isn't a creature of malevolence. He is the Archangel of Love. It doesn't get any more nauseating than that. Dispatching this angel would be practically effortless.
Or so the Marquis thought.
Asmodeus looks back on that first night and remembers what a fool he was. He'd been cocky and arrogant and as prideful as Lucifer himself, and Raphael had been fierce and powerful and a more-than-worthy opponent.
005 – Last: 224 words
This would be the last time.
This. Would be. The last. Time.
Raphael walked away from the nondescript hotel where he and Asmodeus had met (yet again) and promised himself, fervently, that it would never happen again. Next time he would stop Asmodeus. Next time he wouldn't kiss the demon or touch him or hold him, clothing and sanity abandoned in equal measures.
Stolen kisses and clandestine meetings in the dark: this was Raphael's lot. It killed him to lie to his fellow angels, especially his friend Gabriel, about where he disappeared to, but how could Raphael tell them the truth? It was so vile.
Sometimes Raphael wondered about how things could've been. If he and Asmodeus were both demons, surely no one would care? Maybe even if they'd been two angels sharing sweet embraces, Love would've won out over Lust.
Raphael knew about some of the pairs of lovers in the Host's lower ranks, but he let them be. Their feelings were pure, and Raphael was the Archangel of Love; he lacked the will to persecute his brothers and sisters for their devotions.
But with Asmodeus it was different. Their bodies pressed together with aching intensity, and it was so obscene. So immoral. Every time Raphael swore was the last time, and every time he was wrong.
There was always a next time.