#audaciiae {michael}

[crownedinsin]

~ @audaciiae || cont'd from x ~

Lucifer always enjoys when Michael's in a prickly mood. There's something very satisfying about it. Even more enjoyable watching them trying to find space on a bench that's far too small for them both. It causes Lucifer to spread his legs out, trying to take up as much room as possible, not wanting to give them an inch of comfort.

"Me? I'm the absolute worst - Although, to be fair, that's my job. I don't know what your excuse is." Eyes refuse to leave Michael, staring at them as they try to avoid his gaze. There's a strange moment of madness where Lucifer almost reaches out to fix their hair, calling back to a time before - However, it passes as quickly as it arrives, brought back to Earth by Michael's words.

"I'm positively gleeful at the fact." He folds his arms, looking out at the lake again. There's a dull ache in his stomach at the words but he's electing to ignore that. He's allergic to even trying to process an emotion. Eyes fall to the father and son fishing at the side of the lake. "Are you here to try and save his soul? Because after his antics last weekend he's bound to me." He lets out a low whistle, finger pointing downwards. "You can keep the kid though. I'm sure you can give him to some priests to raise and they'll do a wonderful job with him."

[withinycu]

@audaciiae liked for some smut

"Christ Mickey it's a Friday night. Are we really having this conversation now? Come on," Lucifer pulled them in roughly to the small apartment he'd been keeping. It stank faintly of sex and weed and there was buzzing from somewhere in the bowels of the apartment. A sex toy that had been lost but still vibrated away like the sound of flies.

Lucifer sat Michael down on the sofa before retreating to a nearby chair. In the harsh neon light that spilled through the window the father of lies looked boyish and even innocent. "Are you sure you want to . . . I don't know, know about this? I kinda always assumed you were frigid. Which is uh fine. I mean I like fucking but it's not everyone's bag. Samael still hasn't recovered from when he and Lil tried to go at it."

He was rambling out of nerves. He'd always teased Michael, tugged their hair and whispered obscenities in their ear but had never thought it would mean anything or yield more than a rolled pair of eyes.

[fortitudina]

@audaciiae requested a starter for Michael.

DARK EYES FOUND themselves on alert as she moved herself throughout her home. Gabriel had taken up residence upon Earth for a while now, and it was rare that some of her siblings visited, which was why, when she heard the sounds in her home, the archangel moved through it as though she needed to fight.

Stepping into her kitchen, she came to pause abruptly as the sight of her older brother greeted her. For a brief moment, a sigh left her lips, but it quickly turned into an expression of small annoyance the longer that she looked upon him. " Michael? --- Might I question just what it is that you are doing, frequenting my home at this hour of the night? I could have easily brought harm upon you! Buffoon! "

As much as Gabriel loved her siblings, she did often find them to be annoyances, and often incapable of blending in as it were. Her lips pursed as she glanced at the flour scattering both her counter top and the floor below. That could be tomorrow's problem, her immediate one was her sibling within her home.

[sintoarchive]

like a flood receding, the enormity of their collision settling down to its denouement. it's all scorched ground, a tree knocked over from the thud of his hidden wings when @audaciiae had brought him to the ground, his own blade strewn about somewhere. lucifer laughs, a dry thing. michael tries his patience and frustrates him to no end, yet he has come to enjoy these odd little quarrels they share on earth. a sword at his heart is a low price to pay for a break from the monotony of dealing with demonkind and damned souls on the regular, the stench of which seeps into his grace, staining a once-blinding divinity with the wretched incense of hell. ❝ treason... is that what you're calling it upstairs? riveting spin on the tale, a new york times best seller. i prefer revolution, myself, but to each their own. ❞ he makes no move to raise arms against them, merely scowls when he sees the speckled dust and grime over his blazer, rolling his eyes in a mockery of anger, as though the state of his attire were his biggest concern.

❝ better fallen in dignity than subservient in heaven, rolling over at the foot of His throne. ❞ the devil is grinning up at them, all sharp teeth and coy eyes, and the nonchalance he speaks with is unbefitting his position though expected of his arrogance. ❝ where is your grace, michael? your honour? are we no better than dogs? ❞ the blade presses over his chest, betwixt the ribs where his heart ought to lay, and he revels in it for it means he has roused the statue that is michael's usual composure, and toppled it over like a broken idol. he can stomach their loathing and wrath, but their apathy irks him for the falsity of it. they let him go, but he does not take the mercy. then, lucifer has never been particularly good at heeding instruction, and so he remains, taunting them with a tilt to his head, stretching languidly to prop himself unto arms, ❝ act on your own behalf for once, dear, and kill me like you've been aching to. ❞

continued.

[heavenfelled]

@audaciiae liked this for a starter !

' michael ! fancy seeing you here - come to thwart my evil doings, or some such? ' to be perfectly frank, he hadn't been up to much of the sort in weeks. what were the locals calling it these days? quiet quitting? bastards.

' you're looking fabulous ! calisthenics? ' if crowley was endowed with any particular gift, it was their ability to talk until the other party had forgotten whatever reprimand they'd had primed.

[unholyfates]

@audaciiae continued w/(michael)

It   was   far   too   easy   to   vex   Michael,   much   to   his   pleasure.   He   knew   he   could   never   hope   for   Michael   to   be   anything   akin   to   afraid,   so   only   a   fool   would   make   that   his   goal.   Beelzebub   was   truly   only   the   messenger   in   this   situation,   perhaps   as   the   divine   one   had   already   gathered.   "I   know   Lucifer   will   be   flattered   to   hear   you   inquired   but   no,   I'm   sure   the   Morningstar   is   far   too   busy   to   entertain   as   amusing   a   conversation   as   this."   His   crooked   grin   comes   easy   and   his   amusement   is   pure.   "No   one's   come   to   threaten   you   Michael,   not   today   anyway.   So   don't   get   your   feathers   all   ruffled   up. "

His   mood   immediately   shifts   and   sours   when   the   archangel   begins   to   push   the   wrong   buttons.   They   were   rightfully   cast   down?   It   was   deserved?   "Don't   presume   to   preach   to   me   about   the   Almighty   when   I   was   charged   with   guiding   souls   beyond   the   veil.   I've   seen   what   forgiveness   looks   like.   Just   as   you   know   very   well   there   was   a   favored   child   before   you   and   there   will   be   one   after   you.   Your   Lord   is   fickle   and   their   good   graces,   fleeting.   How   long   before   they   grow   bored   of   obedience   once   more?   Why   else   would   humanity   have   been   given   free   will?   I'd   be   shocked   if   you   haven't   asked   yourself   the   same   questions   by   now."

The   accursed   one   is   more   than   willing   to   be   a   messenger,   a   distraction,   or   any   role   he   needs   to   play   in   order   to   achieve   Hell's   goals   for   Pride   was   not   his   sin.   "I'm   pleased   you   brought   that   up.   We'd   like   to   suggest   some   boundaries.   You   and   your   kin   stay   out   of   Amsterdam,   New Orleans,  and   Las Vegas.   Likewise,   we'll   steer   clear   of   Paris,   Vatican   City,   and   Jerusalem."

[gemistellium]

🐆 clearly we need more ships LMAO

@audaciiae sent 🐆 for me to randomize our muse lists and suggest a few random pairings for us to try out. / ALWAYS ACCEPTING

Hermes & Anastasia Andrews-Ismay

Anubis & Isaac Roosevelt

Maximilien Robespierre & Constance Morgan

Emma Thomas & Bruce Ismay

Odysseus & Milo Thatch

Aeneas & Isla Delmar-Magellan

Athelstan & Ophelia Chronsturn

William Schofield & Sarah Phillips

Alexander the Great & Henry Clay

The Archangel Michael & Iris Arias

[fruitfulsin]

@audaciiae 's Michael spoke ⸺ you can't intimidate me.

Porcelain skin glistens, bright against the sun and rich with sweat that only the world of His creation can provide, chest rising and falling with greater difficulty than he is accustomed. Like a challenge, his ribs push against the air as he stands over the body of his companion. He relishes the sensation, tip of his sword finding its place against the soft flesh beneath the angel's neck. As the other struggles for their own breath, his blade does not yield.

"Oh⸺?"

Soft features tilt to the side as a brow raises, creating angles and ridges across his face. "I cannot?" The hand that holds his mighty sword twitches as a smile forms upon crimson lips.

Finally, a musical laugh, head thrown back and sword cast aside. Lucifer is just as swift to offer a hand to Michael, lifting them from the grass, as he was to put them there. He himself has a fair amount of battle wounds from their friendly game. Certainly, it has made his Earthly body stiff and tired. The ache is a welcome sensation, breaking the monotony of his dwelling above.

"You could have put an end to it long ago..." Lucifer says plainly, stepping back into the shade of a nearby tree. "You know this. Do not let me win, my friend. That is an insult." Still, he smiles, waiting for his companion to join by his side or continue their stand in the heat.

"One day, I am certain you will strike me down."

[crownedinsin]

~ @audaciiae || liked for a little text starter || For Michael ~

[text; High & Mikey] I can't sleep [text; High & Mikey] Are you awake?

[withinycu]

@audaciiae must leave the garden

God was so infinite. Once a poet had described time itself as the magic length of God itself. God knew Michael more intimately than a clockmaker knew the gears of his own creation and found them and all the angels lacking.

Lucifer had been the favorite not for his beauty but for his questioning, his pride which made him as infinite as God itself. He was struck down, he was still welcome in the heavenly court, he was imprisoned in a lake of ice but also roamed the earth, etc, etc. All the stories true, but all also false.

Obedience was stagnation. Which was why God appeared as they did now, a void in which no light penetrated defined by its edges knowing how Michael saw them. Infinite, glowing, a bright light by which they could burn the world or render it simple with illumination

"Why have you sought for me?" To say God has a voice is false, what was asked was more felt, a vibration, a foreign thought as recognizable as a fist punch or a caress.

[bellzof]

@audaciiae for michael

❝ 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 ? ( they took a very deep breath in, slouching their shoulders to seem LESS appealing, it was working ) Yes ? good. that means you are too close to me & you need to BACK up wank wings. ❞ house flies ; attracted to rotting flesh smells. drain flies; attracted to moist & mildew smells, wet & sticky. last but NOT least — fruit flies; sweet & a hint of surgay. surely the combination of smells were not the best, but what else was someone assuming the lord of flies smelled like ? they didn't WANT to be perceived from a near distance anyway, so the further people were the better. so why was she so close ? an archangel who wasn't afraid to get in people's face, it seemed like regret that the angel was too close to smell the wrath of beelzebub.

[instituteled-a]

@audaciiae

     Tʜᴇʀᴇ's ᴀ hundred small ways in which Elias is acutely aware that he is in love with Michael Shelley, but the realization hits every single time like running face first into a brick wall, and it's as unmovable in the same way.

     He knows it from the way his heart hammers up inside his throat each time he comes out the back door for their break outside and sees him waiting already, a mess of blonde hair and fuzzy sweaters and honey sweet smiles, and how he's probably the first person in a long time that seems genuinely delighted to see him.

     He knows it in the casual touches - brushing over when sharing a smoke, sitting too close together with their shoulders and knees bumping into each other, lingering a moment too long.

     He knows it when he memorized the way Michael takes his tea in the mornings after the third time he's spent the night, and knows his way around the other's kitchen a week in, movements becoming automatic, and in the way he feels like he shatters and is put back together when the blonde smiles at him the first time he hands him the cup, sleep still thick over his features.

     He knows it when the sun catches in Michael's hair and set it on fire and his own breath catches in his throat and he wonders if he's dead or dying, a fever dream shared with a messy angel that laughs a little bit off tune and smiles with the intensity of a thousand suns and he wants to kiss him so badly, suffocating and drowning, and instead his hand simply brushes over the other's and he watches that smile and cries on the inside because his emotions are overwhelming.

     He knows it in the nights in bed when he's practically worshipping him, lips on every inch of this blonde nerd's body he can reach, hands everywhere, when he insists it's all about him and yet he feels like shattering and Michael holds him so very close he doesn't have any space to do so.

     He knows it when he doesn't remember when he's last been to his own shitty apartment, when going home means to follow like a lost puppy, and knowing he's not forcing himself to it but is wanted there, there's a space willingly left open for him, and his breath is irregular and shaken when he's handed the key like it's a new development, like he couldn't have foreseen it.

     He knows it when the thought surfaces in his head, dizzying and swallowing everything else, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and it hurts in all the right ways. He doesn't mind aching like this, the missing piece to him clicking close later when Michael takes him apart and sets him back together when he says it out loud, not just 'I love you', but the confession of something more, of a bleeding heart that he carved out and replaced with the shape of this too angry and too awkward archival assistant, soft only for him, all his, and he thinks that was worth it, he thinks that was worth everything else, and as long as he loves me, I can die happily.

     He knows it, painfully, throbbingly, when he's called up to the office, nerves a mess, and no explanation for whatever it is comes over his lips because none of them matter or ever had mattered, and he tries to hold onto that image, and the last coherent thought before the pain gets too much and it goes all black is 'he won't know why I'm late, he'll wait too long and he won't know -', and then there's not enough left to know anything about the things Elias cared about, then all that love is just wiped out as easy as the rest of him.

[heavenfelled]

@audaciiae / michael liked this for a starter !

𝐒𝐓. 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒' 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃, everyone knew that. he and aziraphale had many a rendezvous by its bustling little pond in their hay day. old habits die hard apparently - same park, different angel. michael was a different sort, with an air that encouraged a stifling sense of unease ... at least, if you're a grand duke of hell.

' if you've come to to CONGRATULATE me on my promotion, you shouldn't have gone through all the trouble ! an email would've done the trick, y'know. ' they flicked a generous helping of frozen peas toward the flocking ducks and propped a hand at their hip. ' - so what's on the menu, hm? business or pleasure ? '

[withinycu-arch]

audaciiae replied to your chat: “-me has way too many muses already and hasn't made icons for a good...”:

bro i was just having the same thought that it was such a michael look lkjKLSDG

FURTHER EVIDENCE WE ARE IN FACT THE SAME PERSON

[miightyfallen-archive]

Apocalypse lost for the moment. Powers somewhat zapped due to the influence of the child Adam. Lucifer is not entirely himself as he would like to be. Of course this is the time fates decide to put Michael in his path. At first, the devil says nothing and contents himself to silence. Just watching. First hope is Michael would not notice him sitting as he is on the park bench but eye contact is made. Recognition must be admitted and yet- Lucifer just continues to sit and stare. 

[crownedinsin]

~ @audaciiae || cont'd from x ~

Lucifer thrives in Vegas. The sin practically vibrates from the place, the air thick with the weight of bad decisions. Pushing them over the edge doesn't take much coaxing, securing their ticket to Hell. They go home and cry to their families - 'The Devil got hold of me, I don't know why I did it' - But truthfully, people come to Vegas to sin. Lucifer's only helping them get what they already wanted.

The elbow to his stomach knocks any ego out of him, a soft grunt leaving his lips. "I'd forgotten what pointy elbows you have - If you'd threatened me with those I would've left Heaven a lot sooner." He mutters, recoiling slightly. "I'm not stalking you, if that's what you're worried about. This is Vegas, Michael - One of my favourite places." He leans closer, lips curving. "Were you hoping to run into me? Finally decided to live a little and have some fun? You know what they say, Michael - What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."