The day the brothers fell, Raphael couldn't accept it. Every day after, he thought, would be the day they saw the error of their ways and begged Father to let them come back. And in His graciousness, of course he would forgive them. But the time stretched on and on, and still there was no word of them returning. There were rumors, though, of Lucifer ingratiating himself with the Demon Prince, and that was when Raphael knew something was wrong. So he did what any angel in distress was supposed to do and went to his Father.
He bowed before the throne in a room that floated between existence and nonexistence. The floor beneath him held so long as he believed it would. He spoke no words, but he was understood all the same. Father was silent for a long time, but Raphael dared not prompt him. Finally, he heard an answer. Pray. He didn't understand, but instructions from the Father rarely made sense in the moment. He thanked him and left.
Every moment he thought about the brothers, he prayed. He knelt, bowed his head, and clasped his hands like he was taught. The other angels surely noticed, but he knew they would never question someone of his rank. So he prayed until the knees of his robes were dirty. He begged for their safe return, for the demons to release their hellish claws, for their smiling faces to be seen in the heavens again.
He wasn't sure how long it had been since he started praying. It had been a long time, made longer by the endless stains on his robes and the bruises on his knees. Even his angelic patience had begun to wear thin. He finally requested another audience with the Father.
Knelt again before the throne, the light surrounding him somehow seemed brighter than before. He asked again what the Father would have him do. He received another answer, quicker than the last time. Pray.
The fault must be with him, he thought as he left the throne room. The Father could not be wrong. He must not be trying hard enough.
So he prayed whenever he was awake. Often he knelt and prayed properly, but sometimes now he was forced to only close his eyes and appeal on their behalf. He slept fitfully, waking in a sweat. Even the constant sunlight of the Celestial Realm could not rid his mind of the nightmare that if the brothers did not return, it could be his fault. Just before he fell asleep and the moment he woke up, his bleary mind sent a wordless plea to the Lord. He prayed for white robes and for seraphim with stern faces and for lost lovers.
And still, it was not enough. He was hardly aware of the time that passed in the human world, only how it would correspond to the time in the Devildom. He wondered how they were faring, if Lucifer thought his decision had been worth it. If one of them ever saw a golden spear and thought of him.
Before he knew it, he was prostrating himself in the throne room again. The light was hurting his eyes, and he swore he was sinking into the ground. His chest heaved as he gave himself up again. Tears dripped down, from the light or his own tortured mind, he couldn't tell. Again, an answer pierced his mind. Pray.
He followed the habits of his father's chosen people. The angels watched as Raphael tore his robes, took ashes from the ever-burning braziers and heaped them on his head. One of the realm's finest soldiers, reduced to weeping across soot-stained cheeks. He shambled barefoot across the cobblestone streets with only one thought in his mind. He prayed now with more tears than words, wails sent to the sky in a heart-rending hope.
Images of the brothers filled his mind still. They were happy, just like they had always been. Until the moment they weren't. Until he had seen the steel in Lucifer's eyes as the ends of his feathers started to darken. Raphael's chest tightened, so suddenly he dropped to his knees. He felt the presence of his father descending and the breath left his lungs in a moment. His hands grasped around blindly until they found a ragged piece of torn fabric from his robes, and he quickly pulled it to his face to shield his eyes from the light.
God, the light. It consumed him, it burned him, it saw everything. A hundred years passed; time stood utterly still. His veins burst and healed instantly. The crevices of his mind were laid bare in the moment.
All at once, the hold released. His lungs swelled with air and the veil slowly slid from his face. As blood from some unknown wound dripped onto his face, the angel finally understood.
Some things just couldn't be saved.
Inspired by this gorgeous piece from @bor3dw33b ! Thank you so much for getting my creative juices flowing xx
GODDDD GUYS LOOK AT THIS GUYS. PLEASE, READ THIS CAUSE THIS SO BEAUTIFULLY DONE BY @ephie-om
THE ATMOSPHERE!! RAPHAEL'S FEELINGS THAT ARE SO WELL PORTRAYED I CANNTTTTTT
THE WHOLE SCENEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WAHHHH
im alive i promise HAHAH
heres a recent comm ive done for a friend of mine! love yall. i didnt get to thank you for all the support you have given me all of this time.
i admit it is a little overwhelming, getting that amount of attention on my silly drawings i do for my hyperfixation and idk where to begin answering to the comments or the reposts (im literally jst a girl) but, trust i APRECIATE and LOVE every single one of you
vaporwave
ellievsbear
pixelskylines
jbbartram-illu
dailybridgerton
gummygunk
dededos
2087
annaxmalina
yousharknotpass
