Beauty Beloved
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Rating:
Adult +
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770
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Category:
Romance › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
770
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Beauty Beloved
Beauty Beloved
By Kami-chan
Pairing: Gabriel/Lucifer
Rating: PG-13 (omg, I noes, a first!)
Warnings: None, really. Homosexuality. But… you knew that.
Disclaimers: THESE ARE MY CHARACTERS inspired, in part, by Rose Argent’s portrayal of them in ‘Gunmetal Demons and Mechanical Angels.’ DO NOT use them for your own means. Savvy?
***
Lucifer did not always have the reputation that the modern world loves to attribute him; he is not wicked, nor was he ever. However, I suppose in all places – even here – those with views opposing the norm are persecuted. His uprising led to the Great War, and that, to the fall of he and the other rebels. I am still undecided as to whether the “good side” truly won. After all, there is truly no such thing as “right” and “wrong,” thinking merely makes it so.
I remember well the days when Lucifer still lived among us. He was our darling, our youngest brother, and our charge. In Eden, he would frolic among the gardens with us, a wide smile upon his cherubic face, blades of grass and spots of dirt pocking his silver-white hair. He was an annoyance to me, as all people are, up until the point when his childhood faded away. The roundness of his face gave way to sharp curves, a soft jaw, and high cheekbones; his visage melting from boyhood, and into the effeminate beauty of any angelic male.
He captivated me.
Of course, I could never pursue him. Lucifer was out of my league, and I knew it too well. Since I was a child, I’d been told that I was hideous, that I was grotesque, far away from the typical vision of angelic beauty. I would gaze around me, envious of their splendor: their perfect pale skin, their stark-white hair, their ice-blue eyes and feminine forms. I couldn’t stand to look at myself in the mirror, I seemed to be everything they weren’t: bronze-colored flesh, yellow-blonde hair, and so toned in my muscles that they feared my strength. Gabriel, the fierce, the brutish; this is what they called me. It suited me, I suppose. I didn’t need their approval. And yet… I hungered for his.
It wasn’t mere physical attraction that I felt for him. When I dared to meet his gaze, my stomach would lurch. It was intense, lasting long, and ending abruptly. Even when I wasn’t looking, I could feel his longing stare upon my back; and I’m sure he felt the same when I was distracted by him. Yet we kept our distance, each convinced that the other would reject him, and continued to work side-by-side in silence.
This silence only lasted so long. Each night before retiring, I would bathe beneath the warm falls in Eden, relaxed by the garden’s atmosphere and convinced of privacy. This was such a little-known spot in the garden, it was rarely visited by any other than myself; except on this night. As I rinsed my hair beneath the falls, eyes closed, I felt a pair of lithe arms sliding around my waist, a chest pressing against my strong back, and a warm breath whispering in my ear,
“You’re not like they say.”
I recognized the voice immediately; I would know that voice anywhere. It took me a long moment to work my own lips open, turning my head just slightly to peer back at the other male – my bane, my obsession.
“Aren’t I?” I murmured a response, reaching back to hook my fingers about a few strands of ivory hair, “How can you be so sure?”
“They lie,” he said with a smile. “They call you hideous, and yet you are the most beautiful creature in Heaven.”
My eyes widened a fraction, and I felt my mouth going dry. This was an alien concept to me, that someone thought me beautiful. How could I be? I was so different, so unlike their stereotype of lovely statues. I was 236 years old, and until that moment, not one person had ever suggested that I was anything more than a toad.
“If they lie about that,” he continued, wading slowly around to meet me face-to-face, “How can I trust them about anything else?”
***
And so it came to pass that we fell; fell deeper and harder into each other. The further we traveled, the more intoxicating it became, and everything about him held my attention raptly. How could his hair be so soft? How could his flesh be so perfect? How could his scent be so sweet? And how was it possible that I felt so completely whole when I held him?
But there was dissent among the hierarchy. We’d been together but 50 years when the Almighty crafted his masterpiece of man. Adam, he was called, and his woman Eve. So many angels despised these new creatures. The Lord drove us out of our beautiful Eden so the men might have a place to call home. This turn of events particularly incensed people like Lucifer and Aftiel, whose relationships were first conceived of and consummated in the shade of Eden’s orchards.
The hierarchy was divided because of this. Lucifer, Aftiel, and Uriel turned their backs on the Lord, accusing him of treachery and dishonor. Much as my love for Lucifer compelled me, I could not bring myself to disobey the Almighty or anger Michael; thoughts which both frightened me to a feverish degree. The cherubim and seraphim supported whom they would, and before long there formed two opposing armies screaming for bloodshed; the “rebels,” and the “holy ones.”
These cries culminated into one final battle, in which there existed a tremendous loss for both sides. Again, I could not bring myself to fight this battle. I could not stand the thought of looking across a bloodied field and seeing my lover as my enemy. The rebels were met with bitter defeat, and Michael decided their fate faster than they could plea for mercy (not that one should assume Lucifer would beg mercy; he is far too proud.)
Banishment. The accused heretics would fall; exiled to the pits of the earth, where fires burned. For their misdoings, they would be the punishers of the damned; doomed to serve eternity as the watchdogs of sinners in a place Michael called “Hell.”
In the process of an angel’s falling, his beauty is also defiled. Perhaps it is a nod to Lucifer’s vanity that this is what he dreaded the most. I remember when he stood before me during this metamorphosis, clinging to me like a child. He trembled as if he were frightened, sobbed every time he felt a new aspect of the transformation crash against him. His silvery hair peppered slowly, black slowly seeping into the strands, dripping down from his scalp like creeping raindrops. His skin – once a lovely shade of pale – now seemed sickly and thin; and his pupils became a hard, glittering charcoal color, giving his eye sockets an empty, sunken look.
“Ugly,” he choked out, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m ugly…”
Furrowing my brow, I hooked a hand beneath his chin and tilted his head up. I stared hard, scrutinizing every inch of his face. Yet, hard as I tried, I could not find one thing to call ugly. He was who he always was: Lucifer, my lover, the man who showed me passion when no one else would touch me. No aesthetic change would compel me to think differently of him. Furthermore, this stark contrast to the other angel-statutes was a bit refreshing, and strangely appealing.
“Why are you ugly? Because they say you are?” I asked sharply, arm tightening around his shoulders. “I’m surprised that you don’t abide by your own principles.”
“But this is grotesque!” He sobbed, falling onto my shoulder.
“You think so,” I murmured into his ear, “And yet, you are still the most beautiful man I’ve ever dared to look upon.”
Lucifer paused, sniffling quietly as he lifted his face toward me, staring at me incredulously, as if I’d just said something incredibly profound and earth-shattering. I grinned a little, pressing a small kiss to the edge of his lips as I continued,
“I suppose - my love - that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”
***
It does not seem right, that two creatures so in love and needing of each other should be forced to endure such separation. He was banished to Hell, I remained in Heaven. This is a divide far greater than any modern “long-distance relationship.” The gap requires a portal of immense magic to bridge, the residue of which can be tracked by Michael if he were suspicious. As such, when I visit him, it has to be at a time when I will have absolutely no one to bother me for a few days; it takes that long to recover from the incantation.
Yet we have endured. Now, millennia after the Great War, we are as tender and passionate with each other as before those dismal days. Those few nights I can be with him, are the only nights I can truly sleep; for I know that when I wake from my nightmares, he will be there with his arms around me to hush me back into slumber.
But more conflict is building. The Lord has long since faded, leaving His most precious Michael to take His place. Michael’s rule has done nothing but breed hatred among man, and I now wish to fight him in a way that I could not before. I wish to steal the crown of Heaven; it should have been mine in the first place. I have nothing to lose, and the promise of being always with my beautiful lover if I do.
In my eyes, there is no way to lose.
~~* End *~~
By Kami-chan
Pairing: Gabriel/Lucifer
Rating: PG-13 (omg, I noes, a first!)
Warnings: None, really. Homosexuality. But… you knew that.
Disclaimers: THESE ARE MY CHARACTERS inspired, in part, by Rose Argent’s portrayal of them in ‘Gunmetal Demons and Mechanical Angels.’ DO NOT use them for your own means. Savvy?
***
Lucifer did not always have the reputation that the modern world loves to attribute him; he is not wicked, nor was he ever. However, I suppose in all places – even here – those with views opposing the norm are persecuted. His uprising led to the Great War, and that, to the fall of he and the other rebels. I am still undecided as to whether the “good side” truly won. After all, there is truly no such thing as “right” and “wrong,” thinking merely makes it so.
I remember well the days when Lucifer still lived among us. He was our darling, our youngest brother, and our charge. In Eden, he would frolic among the gardens with us, a wide smile upon his cherubic face, blades of grass and spots of dirt pocking his silver-white hair. He was an annoyance to me, as all people are, up until the point when his childhood faded away. The roundness of his face gave way to sharp curves, a soft jaw, and high cheekbones; his visage melting from boyhood, and into the effeminate beauty of any angelic male.
He captivated me.
Of course, I could never pursue him. Lucifer was out of my league, and I knew it too well. Since I was a child, I’d been told that I was hideous, that I was grotesque, far away from the typical vision of angelic beauty. I would gaze around me, envious of their splendor: their perfect pale skin, their stark-white hair, their ice-blue eyes and feminine forms. I couldn’t stand to look at myself in the mirror, I seemed to be everything they weren’t: bronze-colored flesh, yellow-blonde hair, and so toned in my muscles that they feared my strength. Gabriel, the fierce, the brutish; this is what they called me. It suited me, I suppose. I didn’t need their approval. And yet… I hungered for his.
It wasn’t mere physical attraction that I felt for him. When I dared to meet his gaze, my stomach would lurch. It was intense, lasting long, and ending abruptly. Even when I wasn’t looking, I could feel his longing stare upon my back; and I’m sure he felt the same when I was distracted by him. Yet we kept our distance, each convinced that the other would reject him, and continued to work side-by-side in silence.
This silence only lasted so long. Each night before retiring, I would bathe beneath the warm falls in Eden, relaxed by the garden’s atmosphere and convinced of privacy. This was such a little-known spot in the garden, it was rarely visited by any other than myself; except on this night. As I rinsed my hair beneath the falls, eyes closed, I felt a pair of lithe arms sliding around my waist, a chest pressing against my strong back, and a warm breath whispering in my ear,
“You’re not like they say.”
I recognized the voice immediately; I would know that voice anywhere. It took me a long moment to work my own lips open, turning my head just slightly to peer back at the other male – my bane, my obsession.
“Aren’t I?” I murmured a response, reaching back to hook my fingers about a few strands of ivory hair, “How can you be so sure?”
“They lie,” he said with a smile. “They call you hideous, and yet you are the most beautiful creature in Heaven.”
My eyes widened a fraction, and I felt my mouth going dry. This was an alien concept to me, that someone thought me beautiful. How could I be? I was so different, so unlike their stereotype of lovely statues. I was 236 years old, and until that moment, not one person had ever suggested that I was anything more than a toad.
“If they lie about that,” he continued, wading slowly around to meet me face-to-face, “How can I trust them about anything else?”
***
And so it came to pass that we fell; fell deeper and harder into each other. The further we traveled, the more intoxicating it became, and everything about him held my attention raptly. How could his hair be so soft? How could his flesh be so perfect? How could his scent be so sweet? And how was it possible that I felt so completely whole when I held him?
But there was dissent among the hierarchy. We’d been together but 50 years when the Almighty crafted his masterpiece of man. Adam, he was called, and his woman Eve. So many angels despised these new creatures. The Lord drove us out of our beautiful Eden so the men might have a place to call home. This turn of events particularly incensed people like Lucifer and Aftiel, whose relationships were first conceived of and consummated in the shade of Eden’s orchards.
The hierarchy was divided because of this. Lucifer, Aftiel, and Uriel turned their backs on the Lord, accusing him of treachery and dishonor. Much as my love for Lucifer compelled me, I could not bring myself to disobey the Almighty or anger Michael; thoughts which both frightened me to a feverish degree. The cherubim and seraphim supported whom they would, and before long there formed two opposing armies screaming for bloodshed; the “rebels,” and the “holy ones.”
These cries culminated into one final battle, in which there existed a tremendous loss for both sides. Again, I could not bring myself to fight this battle. I could not stand the thought of looking across a bloodied field and seeing my lover as my enemy. The rebels were met with bitter defeat, and Michael decided their fate faster than they could plea for mercy (not that one should assume Lucifer would beg mercy; he is far too proud.)
Banishment. The accused heretics would fall; exiled to the pits of the earth, where fires burned. For their misdoings, they would be the punishers of the damned; doomed to serve eternity as the watchdogs of sinners in a place Michael called “Hell.”
In the process of an angel’s falling, his beauty is also defiled. Perhaps it is a nod to Lucifer’s vanity that this is what he dreaded the most. I remember when he stood before me during this metamorphosis, clinging to me like a child. He trembled as if he were frightened, sobbed every time he felt a new aspect of the transformation crash against him. His silvery hair peppered slowly, black slowly seeping into the strands, dripping down from his scalp like creeping raindrops. His skin – once a lovely shade of pale – now seemed sickly and thin; and his pupils became a hard, glittering charcoal color, giving his eye sockets an empty, sunken look.
“Ugly,” he choked out, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m ugly…”
Furrowing my brow, I hooked a hand beneath his chin and tilted his head up. I stared hard, scrutinizing every inch of his face. Yet, hard as I tried, I could not find one thing to call ugly. He was who he always was: Lucifer, my lover, the man who showed me passion when no one else would touch me. No aesthetic change would compel me to think differently of him. Furthermore, this stark contrast to the other angel-statutes was a bit refreshing, and strangely appealing.
“Why are you ugly? Because they say you are?” I asked sharply, arm tightening around his shoulders. “I’m surprised that you don’t abide by your own principles.”
“But this is grotesque!” He sobbed, falling onto my shoulder.
“You think so,” I murmured into his ear, “And yet, you are still the most beautiful man I’ve ever dared to look upon.”
Lucifer paused, sniffling quietly as he lifted his face toward me, staring at me incredulously, as if I’d just said something incredibly profound and earth-shattering. I grinned a little, pressing a small kiss to the edge of his lips as I continued,
“I suppose - my love - that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”
***
It does not seem right, that two creatures so in love and needing of each other should be forced to endure such separation. He was banished to Hell, I remained in Heaven. This is a divide far greater than any modern “long-distance relationship.” The gap requires a portal of immense magic to bridge, the residue of which can be tracked by Michael if he were suspicious. As such, when I visit him, it has to be at a time when I will have absolutely no one to bother me for a few days; it takes that long to recover from the incantation.
Yet we have endured. Now, millennia after the Great War, we are as tender and passionate with each other as before those dismal days. Those few nights I can be with him, are the only nights I can truly sleep; for I know that when I wake from my nightmares, he will be there with his arms around me to hush me back into slumber.
But more conflict is building. The Lord has long since faded, leaving His most precious Michael to take His place. Michael’s rule has done nothing but breed hatred among man, and I now wish to fight him in a way that I could not before. I wish to steal the crown of Heaven; it should have been mine in the first place. I have nothing to lose, and the promise of being always with my beautiful lover if I do.
In my eyes, there is no way to lose.
~~* End *~~