Fee's Writings
An Angel's Touch: Chapter Eleven
Warnings: Mild Language, Mild MxM references
Warnings: Mild Language, Mild MxM references
Karthetuthari was worried. It wasn't for himself, since he was never worried for himself, but for the one person he held dearest to him.
A long, long time ago, Karthetuthari had been known as Hajazriel. He had been an apprentice along with several gifted others under the Archangel Raphael. Always a quiet boy, withdrawn though not shy, he was brought out of his shell by another male who would soon become his best friend... A male who back then went by the name of Zokiel.
Things had been different back then, and it hadn't taken long for the younger and more impressionable Hajazriel to pass admiration of his friend and completely fall for him. Something in him knew it was wrong, instinctively, but he hadn't been able to hide how he felt, and in the end, he had gladly followed him.
He couldn't agree with what he had done to Azriel- Sae... though. Sae had never done a wrong thing to anyone before then.
The blonde demon sighed, sitting up on his bed and rubbing his wrists in memory of the previous night. They were still reddened and the chafing made them sore, but that was pain, and pain was good. He shivered. Ever since Maz had found that his reactions were amplified by being restrained, he had begun to do it more often.
Pale blue eyes closed in thought, then snapped open as the door of the room slammed against the wall and swung shut behind a dark-haired whirlwind of fury.
"Bastard!" The intruder snarled, though he wasn't talking to Karthetuthari, who simply watched him.
"Erm..."
"Why does he continue to defy me? Again, and again!" A table went crashing into the far wall, splintering into pieces. Karthetuthari winced.
"I don't-"
"Did I ask for an answer!?" Maz turned on him and he cringed back, cowering from the fiery look of pure hatred in the other demon's eyes.
"No." he squeaked, watching as Maz rested his hands on the edge of the bedstead, head lowered, breathing hard.
"Why does he keep doing it...?" he murmured.
Karthetuthari shook his head and shakily edged forwards, reaching out to touch Maz's arm, his fingers closing around the slender muscle. Maz sighed softly, easing his arm from the other male's grip and stepping back, running a hand through his hair. Anger was his brother's weakness, not his. He shouldn't have been reacting this strongly.
He still had that angel to deal with. Damn, he hadn't been this busy for decades.
"Maz..." Karthetuthari said gently, crawling forwards on the bed to the end and leaning on the iron bedstead, fingernails tapping the metal softly. "Why do you concern yourself so much with him? Sae is no match for you even if he is older..."
A laugh, cold and containing a multitude of conflicting frustrations, spilled from Maz's lips and he cast his gaze down to Karthetuthari.
There was still a remnant of Zokiel in there... Karthetuthari knew it. Perhaps he was simply clinging to a false hope but he was happy to stay so long as he knew that.
Shaking his head slightly, the dark haired demon massaged his temples and then stretched back, his spine cracking. "That isn't the point," he replied. "If Sae swallows that stupid attachment he has to his old life, and lets go of it, he'll be one of the most powerful demons in Hell - even more so than I. It is only his weakness to Temperance over Anger that keeps him as he is."
The blonde frowned very slightly, scooting over as Maz moved to sit beside him. Some of the time - not always, but occasionally - Maz wound down... and when he was calm he was so much easier to talk to - almost like in the old days.
A long, long time ago, Karthetuthari had been known as Hajazriel. He had been an apprentice along with several gifted others under the Archangel Raphael. Always a quiet boy, withdrawn though not shy, he was brought out of his shell by another male who would soon become his best friend... A male who back then went by the name of Zokiel.
Things had been different back then, and it hadn't taken long for the younger and more impressionable Hajazriel to pass admiration of his friend and completely fall for him. Something in him knew it was wrong, instinctively, but he hadn't been able to hide how he felt, and in the end, he had gladly followed him.
He couldn't agree with what he had done to Azriel- Sae... though. Sae had never done a wrong thing to anyone before then.
The blonde demon sighed, sitting up on his bed and rubbing his wrists in memory of the previous night. They were still reddened and the chafing made them sore, but that was pain, and pain was good. He shivered. Ever since Maz had found that his reactions were amplified by being restrained, he had begun to do it more often.
Pale blue eyes closed in thought, then snapped open as the door of the room slammed against the wall and swung shut behind a dark-haired whirlwind of fury.
"Bastard!" The intruder snarled, though he wasn't talking to Karthetuthari, who simply watched him.
"Erm..."
"Why does he continue to defy me? Again, and again!" A table went crashing into the far wall, splintering into pieces. Karthetuthari winced.
"I don't-"
"Did I ask for an answer!?" Maz turned on him and he cringed back, cowering from the fiery look of pure hatred in the other demon's eyes.
"No." he squeaked, watching as Maz rested his hands on the edge of the bedstead, head lowered, breathing hard.
"Why does he keep doing it...?" he murmured.
Karthetuthari shook his head and shakily edged forwards, reaching out to touch Maz's arm, his fingers closing around the slender muscle. Maz sighed softly, easing his arm from the other male's grip and stepping back, running a hand through his hair. Anger was his brother's weakness, not his. He shouldn't have been reacting this strongly.
He still had that angel to deal with. Damn, he hadn't been this busy for decades.
"Maz..." Karthetuthari said gently, crawling forwards on the bed to the end and leaning on the iron bedstead, fingernails tapping the metal softly. "Why do you concern yourself so much with him? Sae is no match for you even if he is older..."
A laugh, cold and containing a multitude of conflicting frustrations, spilled from Maz's lips and he cast his gaze down to Karthetuthari.
There was still a remnant of Zokiel in there... Karthetuthari knew it. Perhaps he was simply clinging to a false hope but he was happy to stay so long as he knew that.
Shaking his head slightly, the dark haired demon massaged his temples and then stretched back, his spine cracking. "That isn't the point," he replied. "If Sae swallows that stupid attachment he has to his old life, and lets go of it, he'll be one of the most powerful demons in Hell - even more so than I. It is only his weakness to Temperance over Anger that keeps him as he is."
The blonde frowned very slightly, scooting over as Maz moved to sit beside him. Some of the time - not always, but occasionally - Maz wound down... and when he was calm he was so much easier to talk to - almost like in the old days.
"Hm," Karthetuthari tugged on a strand of his hair and settled beside Maz, leaning against him gently. He exhaled slowly. "But you know that'll never happen. Everyone in Hell knows about Sae and his ridiculous clinging to his old self."
To his surprise, Maz rested his head on top of Karthetuthari's, and the blonde demon carefully took Maz's hand, entwining his fingers through the other male's and trailing his thumb across the pale, smooth knuckles.
"I know." he murmured.
Karthetuthari was silent for a couple of minutes, just letting Maz think and enjoying this closeness - a rarity when you were with someone like Mazgoturthakal.
Then, his gaze lowered to where Maz's hand was linked through his, and he shifted slightly, making the other demon lift his head.
Maybe... if he just... He touched Maz's face and turned his head towards him, tentatively leaning in. He gained courage when Maz's eyes half-closed in anticipation, and gently ran his fingers into the raven locks, drawing him closer, capturing his lips in the tenderest of kisses.
It was highly unusual for Karthetuthari to take control, and for Maz to let him, so the situation surprised them both.
His fingers traced down Maz's chest, fingertips drifting to toy gently with one of the nipples, teasing around the darker nub then pinching softly. Maz let out a quiet, breathy moan and arched to him a little.
Resisting the urge to smile, Karthetuthari tilted his head a little more, parting his lips and feeling Maz do the same, sliding his tongue past the other's defences, flicking it against Maz's and getting a surprisingly caring response in kind, shivering as a warm hand slipped over his shoulder and grasped gently.
Karthetuthari loved times like these, when Maz's boundless energy for hatred ran out and he became, for a few hours, more like his old self.
Not that anything like this would have ever happened in Heaven.
'And you, you little bastard. I've seen the way you look at me.'
To his surprise, Maz rested his head on top of Karthetuthari's, and the blonde demon carefully took Maz's hand, entwining his fingers through the other male's and trailing his thumb across the pale, smooth knuckles.
"I know." he murmured.
Karthetuthari was silent for a couple of minutes, just letting Maz think and enjoying this closeness - a rarity when you were with someone like Mazgoturthakal.
Then, his gaze lowered to where Maz's hand was linked through his, and he shifted slightly, making the other demon lift his head.
Maybe... if he just... He touched Maz's face and turned his head towards him, tentatively leaning in. He gained courage when Maz's eyes half-closed in anticipation, and gently ran his fingers into the raven locks, drawing him closer, capturing his lips in the tenderest of kisses.
It was highly unusual for Karthetuthari to take control, and for Maz to let him, so the situation surprised them both.
His fingers traced down Maz's chest, fingertips drifting to toy gently with one of the nipples, teasing around the darker nub then pinching softly. Maz let out a quiet, breathy moan and arched to him a little.
Resisting the urge to smile, Karthetuthari tilted his head a little more, parting his lips and feeling Maz do the same, sliding his tongue past the other's defences, flicking it against Maz's and getting a surprisingly caring response in kind, shivering as a warm hand slipped over his shoulder and grasped gently.
Karthetuthari loved times like these, when Maz's boundless energy for hatred ran out and he became, for a few hours, more like his old self.
Not that anything like this would have ever happened in Heaven.
'And you, you little bastard. I've seen the way you look at me.'
He'd always known. Karthetuthari closed his eyes against the memories. The kiss broke and their foreheads just rested against each other. The first thing that Maz had ever said to him was a vicious, barbed accusation. Not that it mattered to him.
He loved Maz, and perhaps that was his downfall. His Virtue in the great scheme of things was Love, and it was still very strong in him. Long ago, Hajazriel (as he had been known then) had fallen for the sensitive, confident, gentle soul that was Zokiel, son of Samael, and even in Hell that love still held strong. even if Maz didn't love him back.
So, that was why he loved moments like these. He could pretend, with Maz's hand in his and his gaze fixed on closed eyes that he knew were a deep, near black shade of brown under the lids, that there was something between them.
"Maz...?" he said softly.
"Yes...?" Maz murmured, his tone almost peaceful.
"I..." Karthetuthari sighed very quietly. "Nothing."
Maz opened his eyes and met the other male's clear blue gaze. "Hey, Karthetuthari," he said, his eyes on the floor.
"...Yes?"
Again his eyes darted up, and then he drew back, a small frown on his face. "I'd like you to help me."
"Help you...?"
"Mm." Maz stood and stalked to the other side of the room, watching Karthetuthari critically as his reflection in the mirror on the wall shifted. His fingers flexed, and in a swirl of black smoke a slim, wickedly serrated dagger appeared in his hand.
"I want you to help me destroy Ameronl... and that foolish mortal who is helping him."
Blue eyes widened, and his voice stammered as he replied. "W-what? Why?"
"You heard me. You don't need to know the reason." Was the cool response. Inwardly, the blonde sighed. "Will you help?"
A nod. "I will..."
"Good."
So, that was why he loved moments like these. He could pretend, with Maz's hand in his and his gaze fixed on closed eyes that he knew were a deep, near black shade of brown under the lids, that there was something between them.
"Maz...?" he said softly.
"Yes...?" Maz murmured, his tone almost peaceful.
"I..." Karthetuthari sighed very quietly. "Nothing."
Maz opened his eyes and met the other male's clear blue gaze. "Hey, Karthetuthari," he said, his eyes on the floor.
"...Yes?"
Again his eyes darted up, and then he drew back, a small frown on his face. "I'd like you to help me."
"Help you...?"
"Mm." Maz stood and stalked to the other side of the room, watching Karthetuthari critically as his reflection in the mirror on the wall shifted. His fingers flexed, and in a swirl of black smoke a slim, wickedly serrated dagger appeared in his hand.
"I want you to help me destroy Ameronl... and that foolish mortal who is helping him."
Blue eyes widened, and his voice stammered as he replied. "W-what? Why?"
"You heard me. You don't need to know the reason." Was the cool response. Inwardly, the blonde sighed. "Will you help?"
A nod. "I will..."
"Good."
- - -
"If we don't help him, they'll kill him." An angel with curly dark blonde hair and fiery green eyes lifted his gaze to his companion.
Aisyr sighed, child-like features troubled. "I know, Imandor, but what can we do? It's forbidden."
Making a frustrated noise, Imandor slammed his fist into his palm, causing Aisyr to look up at him in surprise.
Making a frustrated noise, Imandor slammed his fist into his palm, causing Aisyr to look up at him in surprise.
In Aisyr's opinion, humble as it was, Imandor was walking a fine line between the Angelic and the Demonic, and had been for some time. His temper was something formidable, but Aisyr was certain that the only reason it hadn't taken over him completely was that his anger was always justified.
"Sirae says that her brother is helping."
Imandor snorted. "Sae? He'll just be out for himself, as usual."
The other angel shook his head. "No... I think he's really honest. He wants to help. Despite appearances, Sae does love his sister very much. He'd do anything for her."
"Sirae says that her brother is helping."
Imandor snorted. "Sae? He'll just be out for himself, as usual."
The other angel shook his head. "No... I think he's really honest. He wants to help. Despite appearances, Sae does love his sister very much. He'd do anything for her."
"Mm," Speculatively, Imandor frowned. "I suppose, if she trusts him, then so should we."
The wind ruffled Aisyr's dark hair. They were stood on the balcony of his rooms, and he was leaning on the rail as Imandor rested his head against the wall to his left.
"Now you're talking a bit more sense." He grinned, and (if slightly grudgingly) Imandor grinned back. "You should loosen up. You'll end up turning into Maneo."
"Oh, Heavens forbid." Imandor laughed finally. His friend pushed off the balcony and stretched, twisting a little so his spine cracked loudly. The blonde winced, and then sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"I do worry about Sirae... I think she's too trusting."
"Perhaps..." Aisyr agreed. "But that's her own lookout... we can't tell her what to do. She's older than either of us."
Leaving the balcony, Imandor crossed his arms over his chest, walking inside as Aisyr followed. "I guess not, but that doesn't mean we have to go along with her. I still don't trust Sae. I can't bring myself to do it. I don't like this entire situation, Aisyr... I know it's been a long time since this has happened to anyone this high, and I know that even when it happens to any of us in Heaven we try our hardest to get them back, but we're up here, collaborating with demons for the Lord's sake. It's just not right."
Not replying to that statement, Aisyr crossed the room and poured himself a glass of water from the delicate-looking jug on a table by the door. Turning and taking a small sip he regarded Imandor critically from over the top of the glass. "No, you're right. It doesn't feel right to me either, but that's just how it is right now. Maybe this was supposed to happen. Besides," He took another sip of water and placed the glass down carefully. "What harm can it do?"
"Now you're talking a bit more sense." He grinned, and (if slightly grudgingly) Imandor grinned back. "You should loosen up. You'll end up turning into Maneo."
"Oh, Heavens forbid." Imandor laughed finally. His friend pushed off the balcony and stretched, twisting a little so his spine cracked loudly. The blonde winced, and then sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"I do worry about Sirae... I think she's too trusting."
"Perhaps..." Aisyr agreed. "But that's her own lookout... we can't tell her what to do. She's older than either of us."
Leaving the balcony, Imandor crossed his arms over his chest, walking inside as Aisyr followed. "I guess not, but that doesn't mean we have to go along with her. I still don't trust Sae. I can't bring myself to do it. I don't like this entire situation, Aisyr... I know it's been a long time since this has happened to anyone this high, and I know that even when it happens to any of us in Heaven we try our hardest to get them back, but we're up here, collaborating with demons for the Lord's sake. It's just not right."
Not replying to that statement, Aisyr crossed the room and poured himself a glass of water from the delicate-looking jug on a table by the door. Turning and taking a small sip he regarded Imandor critically from over the top of the glass. "No, you're right. It doesn't feel right to me either, but that's just how it is right now. Maybe this was supposed to happen. Besides," He took another sip of water and placed the glass down carefully. "What harm can it do?"