It had been a mistake. That had to be it. No one in their right mind would willingly raise a devil. And an angel? Unheard of!
That was the type of criticism that Arthur had to sit through every day, every time he turned his eyes to the small child on the floor of the small house. The words of his predecessors buzzed through his head when the child looked at him with his wide blue eyes (sometimes tinged with red, crimson, like blood), remnants of the scorn cast at him when they had first seen him.
Seen themArthur had thought he was doing a good deed. The child had been alone, cold, sitting in the middle of a forest wearing naught but a small dressing gown. It was only when Arthur lifted the child and took him into his arms that he realized what he had stumbled across. A flash of red in those sapphire eyes, and then the child had challenged him. The child hadn't spoken to him, hadn't demanded a fight; his eyes had said it all. Those eyes had flashed, and Arthur had found himself unable to turn away, unable to ignore the threat that
( ... )
The answer was yes. Evil was evil. Evil could be hidden and manipulated, but it could never be destroyed. There would always be that urge, to destroy and hurt, that would never disappear
( ... )
Warning: Dub-con/rape. Etc. It got a bit out of hand.
Arthur had been left alone, battered and bloody. Alfred had disappeared, and all that Arthur could think of was balance and necessity. He had made mistakes; he had lost Alfred. His body hurt, and his wings wouldn't move. His fingers grasped at the grass around him, and the pain that tore through him dulled to a throb, a burn that refused to leave.
Arthur didn't know how long he lay there, but in time he was retrieved, pulled into the sky by the angels he had pushed aside. The “I told you so”s were left unsaid, but Arthur knew that everyone thought it. And he agreed with it.
He had made a mistake. A big mistake. He had been a fool, had ignored the warning signs.
You couldn't cure evil. You could only hide it until it was ready to lash out, ready to decimate whatever was in its path. Alfred had been an embodiment of evil. Nothing could have changed that.
Arthur just wished that he had realized it before his affections had grown. It would have been far easier.
It took only a hundred years to forget the incident, but three hundred years later it reared its ugly head once more. Arthur avoided the topic when it arose, but it was impossible not to hear of the demon below, that walked the earth and searched the forests. Angels that had seen it spoke of its terrible eyes, like sapphires, that could consume souls and destroy hope. They hated and feared the demon, but at the same time, they looked hesitantly towards Arthur. No one wanted to acknowledge that there may have been a connection between Arthur and the new demon, but it was unsettling how the demon seemed to resemble the tiny child-demon from long ago
( ... )
But the enemy was there. And the enemy had waited for so long, waited for a sign, a look. Blue had met green, and the demon below had finally known.
He was up there.That was all the demon needed to know. It took no time at all for him to find his way to the clouds, and he happened upon a gathering of angels within hours of his arrival. There was fear and outrage, but anything that the angels tried to throw at the demon did nothing. The demon grimaced at the treatment, and his eyes flashed red
( ... )
Neither spoke. Arthur didn't move as Alfred straddled him. He simply watched as Alfred removed his shirt, and then unbuttoned his pants. Then, instead of completely removing said pants, he reached for Arthur. His fingers danced up Arthur's sides, on top of the tunic he wore, and he pushed up
( ... )
Law [2e/2] [end]
anonymous
August 28 2010, 05:20:47 UTC
“You ruined me,” Alfred whispered, ignoring Arthur's whines and pleas. “You raised me. An angel.” Alfred pulled his hips back, and then thrust forward. A cry tore from Arthur's throat, high and pained, and Alfred thrust again. “You know what happens to demons raised by angels?” Alfred hissed, demanding that Arthur listen. “They're thrown out. They're bastards, corrupted by good. They're useless to the rest of the group, they become the tools of war. No privileges, no rights, no nothing“Get off,” Arthur whispered, choking on air. “Stop. Stop, it hurts, jus
( ... )
Re: Law [2e/2] [end]
anonymous
August 28 2010, 06:39:08 UTC
NOT OP says this::
How dare you apologize for such a a...an incredible fill it was so great I'm not ashamed to say that it left me a bit breathless. The drama was just right and the characterizations...even with the characters so incredible different their (at least I did not) not viewed as OOC because their traits were still there and you stayed true to the Au AND the canon. America needs approval and went mad without others (he is a very sociable person even if he isn't well liked). You fit him perfectly and how he most likely would have acted if he were a demon. A sign of a good writer is staying true to canon but being able to shape that character into who they /would/ be if in a certain universe where there not for example a super power who is supposed to be a hero and anything but evil (even though he can totally be poor hero sighs
( ... )
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That was the type of criticism that Arthur had to sit through every day, every time he turned his eyes to the small child on the floor of the small house. The words of his predecessors buzzed through his head when the child looked at him with his wide blue eyes (sometimes tinged with red, crimson, like blood), remnants of the scorn cast at him when they had first seen him.
Seen themArthur had thought he was doing a good deed. The child had been alone, cold, sitting in the middle of a forest wearing naught but a small dressing gown. It was only when Arthur lifted the child and took him into his arms that he realized what he had stumbled across. A flash of red in those sapphire eyes, and then the child had challenged him. The child hadn't spoken to him, hadn't demanded a fight; his eyes had said it all. Those eyes had flashed, and Arthur had found himself unable to turn away, unable to ignore the threat that ( ... )
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Arthur had been left alone, battered and bloody. Alfred had disappeared, and all that Arthur could think of was balance and necessity. He had made mistakes; he had lost Alfred. His body hurt, and his wings wouldn't move. His fingers grasped at the grass around him, and the pain that tore through him dulled to a throb, a burn that refused to leave.
Arthur didn't know how long he lay there, but in time he was retrieved, pulled into the sky by the angels he had pushed aside. The “I told you so”s were left unsaid, but Arthur knew that everyone thought it. And he agreed with it.
He had made a mistake. A big mistake. He had been a fool, had ignored the warning signs.
You couldn't cure evil. You could only hide it until it was ready to lash out, ready to decimate whatever was in its path. Alfred had been an embodiment of evil. Nothing could have changed that.
Arthur just wished that he had realized it before his affections had grown. It would have been far easier.
Centuries passed ( ... )
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He was up there.That was all the demon needed to know. It took no time at all for him to find his way to the clouds, and he happened upon a gathering of angels within hours of his arrival. There was fear and outrage, but anything that the angels tried to throw at the demon did nothing. The demon grimaced at the treatment, and his eyes flashed red ( ... )
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And I totally second that omake idea. I would love to see what happens to Arthur and Alfred afterwards.
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How dare you apologize for such a a...an incredible fill it was so great I'm not ashamed to say that it left me a bit breathless. The drama was just right and the characterizations...even with the characters so incredible different their (at least I did not) not viewed as OOC because their traits were still there and you stayed true to the Au AND the canon. America needs approval and went mad without others (he is a very sociable person even if he isn't well liked). You fit him perfectly and how he most likely would have acted if he were a demon. A sign of a good writer is staying true to canon but being able to shape that character into who they /would/ be if in a certain universe where there not for example a super power who is supposed to be a hero and anything but evil (even though he can totally be poor hero sighs ( ... )
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