fourth~~~
Title: The Devil Went Down to Georgia L.A.
Pairing(s): Artie/Kurt, Puck/Kurt, Puck/Artie, Gabriel/Lucifer, Lucifer/Mephistopheles, Lucifer/Anti-Christ (yeah.)
Chapter: 4/?
Rating: R
Warning: OKAY, WHEN I SAY BLASPHEMY, I REALLY MEAN IT GUYS. LIKE, REALLY. Mansex, violence, darkness, angst, ANGST, ANGST, and probably some smut. Oh, and food porn.
Summary: Artie Abrahms has something both Heaven and Hell want and now he's stuck between the Archangel Gabriel and Mephistopheles
Disclaimer: Not mine, Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, Gabriel, Lucifer and Meph all belong to mythology
Notes: Okay... So... This is my first attempt at twisted dark!fic in the Glee universe. It features Angel!Kurt and demon!Puck and has a whole lot of Biblical references going on. Thanks to emocezi for help with the title and to everyone else out there who is awesome enough to help me with this, you know who you are.
Previous Chapters: i, ii, iii
“What do you take in your coffee?”
“Three sugar, two cream.”
Taking the simple white mug from Kurt's fingers, Noah sat back and crossed his legs, watching as Kurt dumped five sugars into the black coffee. A smile turned up his mouth, if there was anything he knew about Angels, it was that they had a sweet tooth.
Artie was off at Sunday mass, and so, Noah approached Kurt about having a pancake breakfast. The Angel had hummed and hawed at first, but in the end caved in. Noah was pushing his apple pancakes with strawberry syrup around on his plate, taking a bite of his breakfast every so often. Like he said, Angel's had a sweet tooth, even fallen ones like him.
“So...” Kurt started around a mouthful of banana hazelnut drizzle with pure maple syrup pancake.
“So...” Noah echoed, taking a long sip of his coffee and setting it down on the table. “Are you and Artie boyfriends?”
“What? No!”
“So he's in the market.”
“No!”
“So... you are dating?”
“It's a complicated situation!”
“Complicated? How?” Noah asked, tearing off a piece of his pancake and taking a bite.
“It...” Kurt shoved a huge mass of pancake in his mouth and pondered while he chewed. “It's not really a... dating thing. It's more of a connection... thing.” He took a long sip of his coffee, sighing into the mug. “It's like... I'm here... only for him.”
“Hm,” Noah mused, tapping his fingers on his mug. “So... Does he love you?”
“Oh, I'm sure he does.”
“Just... not the way you love him.”
Kurt looked down at his pancakes drowning in syrup and went silent for a long moment. “It's not that... It's just... All I know... All I can ever truly feel for him is love... and... he can feel more.”
Noah just nodded softly, he smiled into his coffee but never let Kurt see it. An Angel's one fatal flaw, was that it was never, and could never be human. Because of it's divine creation, Angels were a step above from humanity, supposedly exalted from the human condition, never knowing pain, or doubt, or fear. Only endless love, compassion, forgiveness and when the need arose, utter, unending vengeance.
“What about you? Are you in a relationship?”
“Not really, it's more of a casual sex thing.”
“Man or woman?”
“Currently, man, but I'm open to all possibilities.”
Silence fell over the room as they ate their pancakes and then Kurt got up for more, smothering them with hazelnut sauce and syrup, clearly attempting to lick his aching heart's wounds though a massive sugar coma. When Kurt returned to the table, he sat down glumly and began eating his pancakes.
“Hey, cheer up, maybe you should take a chance, try something...”
“What would the point be?”
“Maybe he'll return your feelings?”
Kurt scoffed around a mouthful of banana-nut-syrup mash and took a sip of his coffee, rolling his eyes. “And then what?”
“Then you fuck, what else?”
Kurt sputtered on his coffee, coughing into a napkin in shock and looked to Noah in shock. Noah just shrugged and returned to his stack of pancakes. Worth a shot.
“So...” Kurt muttered, mopping up his spilt coffee. “Why aren't you in Church?”
“Not a fan.”
“Atheist?”
“Nah. I just prefer to take a dualistic approach to the world.”
“That's pretty interesting. Why is that?”
“It just seems to make more sense, y'know? There's both good and evil in the world and we're all pawns to a greater schema of things. It's like a giant chess board, right? Good is white and evil is black, and sometimes one gets the advantage over the other, but in the end all that's left are the Kings, so it ends in a stalemate.” Noah shrugged his shoulders. “There's good and evil in everyone and everything. It's just a matter of perspective.”
Kurt went silent after Noah had finished talking. He squirmed a little, clearly uncomfortable with a middle road perspective when he was playing for a side. “I find that interesting, I don't necessarily agree with your view, but I can see why you would find it useful and comforting.”
“What about you? What team do you play for?”
“T-team?”
“Which religion do you stick on your census, obviously.”
“Oh. Uh...” Kurt scratched the back of his neck and refilled his mug with coffee, dumping more sugar and milk in before taking a long, long sip. “I guess you could say I'm old school.”
“Like... Roman Catholic?”
“Not really...”
“What, Jewish?”
“...No...?”
“What, like Gnostic?”
“I guess that would be the closest thing, yeah, except, not the dualistic kind.”
“Yeah. I got that.”
Noah turned at a key in the lock and smiled when Artie walked in, dressed in his Sunday best, shirt, tie and slacks.
“How was Mass?”
“Enlightening.”
Kurt stood up, putting his plate in the sink and smiled when Artie walked over. “We made pancakes.”
“Awesome. Thanks.” Sliding a single arm around Kurt's shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple, Artie slid off into his room, leaving Kurt staring after him.
Noah put his plate in the sink, and when he turned, Kurt was pulling on a thin sweater and shoes. “Where are you going?”
“Home, I have a family gathering to go to. Tell him I said bye, okay?” Then he was out the door.
Artie walked back out in a pair of pyjamas and spotted the pancakes, taking a few he was sitting down and just about to say grace when he noticed Kurt was gone.
“He said he had some family thing.”
“Oh.”
As Artie ate, and Noah watched, sipping coffee slowly. At first he had wanted to say something about the Angel's love, but now that he thought about it, he realized it was a much better idea to just watch it crash and burn from the sidelines. Maybe with just the right nudge from him.
“Hey, mind pouring me a glass of orange juice?” Artie asked, getting up from the table and heading to the bathroom.
“Sure.”
When the door clicked shut, Noah pulled out a glass, setting it on the counter and pulling out the orange juice, he set the pitcher beside the glass. Pulling out a large kitchen knife, he slashed across his palm, not even wincing as the black blood bubbled up. Fisting his hand, he watched as a few dark rivulets ran into the bottom of the glass. Re-opening his palm the wound was gone and he poured the orange juice in, and then poured a little cranapple juice to mask any discolouration the blood would have caused. Setting the glass on the table beside Artie's plate, he was sipping his coffee when the other strolled out of the bathroom.
“What's this?”
“Oh, just something I threw together. Orange juice is so blah.”
Artie drained the glass in three large gulps. Noah just smiled.
~*~
“How was your visit?”
“Lovely.”
Artie was laying in bed, propped up on his elbow and looking to Gabriel. He was incorporeal again, so he looked like himself. His blond hair cascaded over his shoulders as he watched Artie fondly.
“Hey, Gabriel, how come I never see your wings?”
“Because you've never seen my true form.”
“Why not?”
“To look upon me and see me, for who I really am, it would burn your eyes from your head. To hear my true voice would cause your ears to burst... It's like a solar eclipse mixed with a sonic boom only a million, billion times worse. So you only gain glimpses...”
“What are they like?”
“They're...” Gabriel shifted from his spot beside Artie, the sheets never even rustling as he shifted to sit against the headboard. “They're like fire and lightning and ice. They're sound, and space and light...”
“That sounds beautiful... and terrifying. I wish I could see them.”
“I wish you could too.”
A hand that wasn't really there moved over his cheek, and incorporeal lips touched his forehead, pins and needles zinging through him. “Sleep, child, sleep.”
Artie slept.
Pairing(s): Artie/Kurt, Puck/Kurt, Puck/Artie, Gabriel/Lucifer, Lucifer/Mephistopheles, Lucifer/Anti-Christ (yeah.)
Chapter: 4/?
Rating: R
Warning: OKAY, WHEN I SAY BLASPHEMY, I REALLY MEAN IT GUYS. LIKE, REALLY. Mansex, violence, darkness, angst, ANGST, ANGST, and probably some smut. Oh, and food porn.
Summary: Artie Abrahms has something both Heaven and Hell want and now he's stuck between the Archangel Gabriel and Mephistopheles
Disclaimer: Not mine, Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, Gabriel, Lucifer and Meph all belong to mythology
Notes: Okay... So... This is my first attempt at twisted dark!fic in the Glee universe. It features Angel!Kurt and demon!Puck and has a whole lot of Biblical references going on. Thanks to emocezi for help with the title and to everyone else out there who is awesome enough to help me with this, you know who you are.
Previous Chapters: i, ii, iii
“What do you take in your coffee?”
“Three sugar, two cream.”
Taking the simple white mug from Kurt's fingers, Noah sat back and crossed his legs, watching as Kurt dumped five sugars into the black coffee. A smile turned up his mouth, if there was anything he knew about Angels, it was that they had a sweet tooth.
Artie was off at Sunday mass, and so, Noah approached Kurt about having a pancake breakfast. The Angel had hummed and hawed at first, but in the end caved in. Noah was pushing his apple pancakes with strawberry syrup around on his plate, taking a bite of his breakfast every so often. Like he said, Angel's had a sweet tooth, even fallen ones like him.
“So...” Kurt started around a mouthful of banana hazelnut drizzle with pure maple syrup pancake.
“So...” Noah echoed, taking a long sip of his coffee and setting it down on the table. “Are you and Artie boyfriends?”
“What? No!”
“So he's in the market.”
“No!”
“So... you are dating?”
“It's a complicated situation!”
“Complicated? How?” Noah asked, tearing off a piece of his pancake and taking a bite.
“It...” Kurt shoved a huge mass of pancake in his mouth and pondered while he chewed. “It's not really a... dating thing. It's more of a connection... thing.” He took a long sip of his coffee, sighing into the mug. “It's like... I'm here... only for him.”
“Hm,” Noah mused, tapping his fingers on his mug. “So... Does he love you?”
“Oh, I'm sure he does.”
“Just... not the way you love him.”
Kurt looked down at his pancakes drowning in syrup and went silent for a long moment. “It's not that... It's just... All I know... All I can ever truly feel for him is love... and... he can feel more.”
Noah just nodded softly, he smiled into his coffee but never let Kurt see it. An Angel's one fatal flaw, was that it was never, and could never be human. Because of it's divine creation, Angels were a step above from humanity, supposedly exalted from the human condition, never knowing pain, or doubt, or fear. Only endless love, compassion, forgiveness and when the need arose, utter, unending vengeance.
“What about you? Are you in a relationship?”
“Not really, it's more of a casual sex thing.”
“Man or woman?”
“Currently, man, but I'm open to all possibilities.”
Silence fell over the room as they ate their pancakes and then Kurt got up for more, smothering them with hazelnut sauce and syrup, clearly attempting to lick his aching heart's wounds though a massive sugar coma. When Kurt returned to the table, he sat down glumly and began eating his pancakes.
“Hey, cheer up, maybe you should take a chance, try something...”
“What would the point be?”
“Maybe he'll return your feelings?”
Kurt scoffed around a mouthful of banana-nut-syrup mash and took a sip of his coffee, rolling his eyes. “And then what?”
“Then you fuck, what else?”
Kurt sputtered on his coffee, coughing into a napkin in shock and looked to Noah in shock. Noah just shrugged and returned to his stack of pancakes. Worth a shot.
“So...” Kurt muttered, mopping up his spilt coffee. “Why aren't you in Church?”
“Not a fan.”
“Atheist?”
“Nah. I just prefer to take a dualistic approach to the world.”
“That's pretty interesting. Why is that?”
“It just seems to make more sense, y'know? There's both good and evil in the world and we're all pawns to a greater schema of things. It's like a giant chess board, right? Good is white and evil is black, and sometimes one gets the advantage over the other, but in the end all that's left are the Kings, so it ends in a stalemate.” Noah shrugged his shoulders. “There's good and evil in everyone and everything. It's just a matter of perspective.”
Kurt went silent after Noah had finished talking. He squirmed a little, clearly uncomfortable with a middle road perspective when he was playing for a side. “I find that interesting, I don't necessarily agree with your view, but I can see why you would find it useful and comforting.”
“What about you? What team do you play for?”
“T-team?”
“Which religion do you stick on your census, obviously.”
“Oh. Uh...” Kurt scratched the back of his neck and refilled his mug with coffee, dumping more sugar and milk in before taking a long, long sip. “I guess you could say I'm old school.”
“Like... Roman Catholic?”
“Not really...”
“What, Jewish?”
“...No...?”
“What, like Gnostic?”
“I guess that would be the closest thing, yeah, except, not the dualistic kind.”
“Yeah. I got that.”
Noah turned at a key in the lock and smiled when Artie walked in, dressed in his Sunday best, shirt, tie and slacks.
“How was Mass?”
“Enlightening.”
Kurt stood up, putting his plate in the sink and smiled when Artie walked over. “We made pancakes.”
“Awesome. Thanks.” Sliding a single arm around Kurt's shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple, Artie slid off into his room, leaving Kurt staring after him.
Noah put his plate in the sink, and when he turned, Kurt was pulling on a thin sweater and shoes. “Where are you going?”
“Home, I have a family gathering to go to. Tell him I said bye, okay?” Then he was out the door.
Artie walked back out in a pair of pyjamas and spotted the pancakes, taking a few he was sitting down and just about to say grace when he noticed Kurt was gone.
“He said he had some family thing.”
“Oh.”
As Artie ate, and Noah watched, sipping coffee slowly. At first he had wanted to say something about the Angel's love, but now that he thought about it, he realized it was a much better idea to just watch it crash and burn from the sidelines. Maybe with just the right nudge from him.
“Hey, mind pouring me a glass of orange juice?” Artie asked, getting up from the table and heading to the bathroom.
“Sure.”
When the door clicked shut, Noah pulled out a glass, setting it on the counter and pulling out the orange juice, he set the pitcher beside the glass. Pulling out a large kitchen knife, he slashed across his palm, not even wincing as the black blood bubbled up. Fisting his hand, he watched as a few dark rivulets ran into the bottom of the glass. Re-opening his palm the wound was gone and he poured the orange juice in, and then poured a little cranapple juice to mask any discolouration the blood would have caused. Setting the glass on the table beside Artie's plate, he was sipping his coffee when the other strolled out of the bathroom.
“What's this?”
“Oh, just something I threw together. Orange juice is so blah.”
Artie drained the glass in three large gulps. Noah just smiled.
~*~
“How was your visit?”
“Lovely.”
Artie was laying in bed, propped up on his elbow and looking to Gabriel. He was incorporeal again, so he looked like himself. His blond hair cascaded over his shoulders as he watched Artie fondly.
“Hey, Gabriel, how come I never see your wings?”
“Because you've never seen my true form.”
“Why not?”
“To look upon me and see me, for who I really am, it would burn your eyes from your head. To hear my true voice would cause your ears to burst... It's like a solar eclipse mixed with a sonic boom only a million, billion times worse. So you only gain glimpses...”
“What are they like?”
“They're...” Gabriel shifted from his spot beside Artie, the sheets never even rustling as he shifted to sit against the headboard. “They're like fire and lightning and ice. They're sound, and space and light...”
“That sounds beautiful... and terrifying. I wish I could see them.”
“I wish you could too.”
A hand that wasn't really there moved over his cheek, and incorporeal lips touched his forehead, pins and needles zinging through him. “Sleep, child, sleep.”
Artie slept.