#caged angel!au

[michi-beans]

The angel trapped in a cage.

Full on patreon.

[sugamehhq]

His Angel (Johnshi)

Quick things before you indulge;

This is an au I've started working on where these characters are placed in a world of demons and angels. For this specific story part, a process known as "marking" or "claiming" is done.

In the realm of demons and angels there are rankings. The higher your rank, the more privileged you are. Anyone who falls in the 7-12 range are not lucky people. The only way to climb in the ranks is either by someone above you dies, or by a higher up claiming you as their own (with consent). The marking/claiming process can never be done without consent. An action of consent is required to begin the process.

In Johnny's case, he was born a rank 12. Being a rank 12 means he's been treated poorly most of his life. Of which leads me to say CW/TW for mentions of Sexual Harassment/Sexual Assault. Please stay safe!

(Art is included at the end for visuals :] )

--

“Remind me why you’re here again,” Johnny stated, avoiding Kenshi’s gaze.

The demon was a little confused by the sudden request, but complied, “I wanted to spend time with you.”

“Right,” the angel fidgeted with his fingers, “and why is that?”

Kenshi sighed, “I’ve told you already. I enjoy your company, you’re comforting to be around.”

He paused before asking a question, “Do you not enjoy our time together?”

The angel’s brows furrowed as he searched for an answer.

“Would you prefer I leave?”

“No,” Johnny replied quickly, “I’m just confused is all.”

Kenshi raised an eyebrow before placing himself by the angel’s side. His hand gently took Johnny’s, the other’s small wings moving to cover his face.

“If I may ask,” the demon spoke softly, “what’s confusing you?”

Johnny hesitated, his hand accepting the demon’s touch while he thought how to word his concern.

“Who told you about me?”

His voice was gentle, but rough enough to get the point across. He felt this wasn’t genuine. That Kenshi was sent to keep watch over him for something worse, that there were no real feelings. The fear in his mind was making it hard to see the truth. Johnny was aware there was some connection. The demon had spent months visiting, doing everything he could to protect his lower rank self, showing him respect, bringing him gifts, and yet there was still the strong feeling of it being too good to be true.

“I’m not sure I’m following.”

“If you’re just here to use my body for satisfaction, then use me. There’s no need to butter me up for months if that’s all you want.”

Kenshi’s heart hurt knowing that thought has been stuck in the other’s mind for months, yet all he could do was repeat the same thing over and over, hoping one of these days it would get through that horrid road block in the angel’s mind. He found himself standing in front of Johnny, gently pulling his feathers from his face, revealing an expression of fear yet acceptance.

“Starlight, look at me,” the demon placed his hand against the other’s cheek, “there’s no need to be afraid of me.”

Johnny’s lower lip twitched as he fought back tears.

“You know that, and I know you’ve been through a lot, but please don’t be afraid of me,” Kenshi wiped the singular tear that fell, “I’d rather die than ever think of hurting you in such ways.”

The angel’s hand shakily met the demon’s wrist. His eyes closed, allowing the tears to fall.

So Kenshi continued, “A close friend of mine told me about you, how you’re a good person, that you don’t deserve what you’ve been through, so I came to see for myself. I started spending more time here than in my own territory. It occurred to me that you really are something special.”

The demon hesitated, his words feeling way too corny for himself, but he chose to keep speaking his mind.

“I grew fond of you. I’ve wanted nothing more than to bring you up from this hellhole, not only because it’s the right thing to do, but because I truly fell in love with you, and I want you to see that. So, over the last few months, I’ve tried my best to prove myself to you. I’ve brought you things I thought you’d enjoy. I respect your wishes. I avoided anything you disliked. I wanted to make you feel safe and give you a safe space. I’ve grown territorial of you. I want to protect you. I-”

The demon’s mind went blank. He had so much more to say, but couldn’t figure out how to word it. It sunk in that he admitted to the fact of wanting to claim the angel, take him as his lover. His mouth hung open, slight nerves settling in his gut as he waited for a slap in the face, assuming the angel would think he was crazy.

How many people have told him the same thing, only to turn around and hurt him for no reason at all? What he did just now, he was probably no better than the other disgusting demons that tried to get a taste of Johnny.

A laugh entered the air, a song the demon would kill for just to hear again.

“You’re so blunt,” Johnny laughed.

Kenshi’s face relaxed, assuming he didn’t mess up his words.

“Not blunt, honest.”

Johnny pulled Kenshi’s hand away from his face, squeezing it in his other hand. He admired the claws of the demon, the color of his skin, how rough yet soft his touch felt, the jewelry that adorned his arm. His eyes trailed up to his shoulder, chest, opposite arm, back to his chest, to his feet, and finally up to his blindfolded eyes. Kenshi stood still, his posture stiff in fear he was presenting himself wrong, which earned another laugh out of the angel.

“You’re trying too hard for someone like me,” Johnny smiled, wondering what his eyes looked like under the cloth.

“I beg to differ,” Kenshi sighed while relaxing his shoulders.

Johnny continued to laugh at the demon. Even if it was to make fun of him, Kenshi enjoyed the sound.

“So, run that by me again,” Johnny spoke, “what’s this about love?”

The demon’s tail twitched nervously, but he obeyed, “I said I fell in love with you.”

“Right,” the angel leaned closer to the other, his voice softening, “and what did you say you wanted to do?”

“Bring you up from this hellhole,” Kenshi replied automatically.

Johnny smiled, taking in Kenshi’s features once more.

He really did love this demon. So why should he feel guilty about this? Kenshi himself just stated he loves him, but that word doesn’t mean anything when you’ve been told all your life how loved and beautiful you are, only to be used and thrown around like a damn toy. 

Even still, Johnny followed his heart. The angel planted a soft kiss on the demon’s cheek. A silent way of inviting the demon into his heart.

Kenshi was hesitant, his heart grew louder, his tail swishing slowly behind him. Was he really allowing him into his life? Was all his hard work finally paying off? 

“Johnny,” Kenshi whispered in awe.

“Yes?”

“Are you sure?”

The angel froze. Did he mess something up?

“I-I mean are you okay with me. Are you sure you’re okay with it being me?”

“Kenshi,” the angel placed another kiss on his face, “I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.”

The demon’s lips broke into a smile, his heart pounded in his ears. He could only imagine how stupid he looked at that moment. His head fell against Johnny’s shoulder, his arms embracing him.

“You do know it’ll hurt like hell, right?”

Johnny sighed, “I’m sure I’ve felt worse.”

Kenshi cringed at the statement. Both for what it implied as well as the idea Johnny might be overlooking how painful a marking for them would be. Regardless, if Johnny was okay with it then he’d gladly deliver.

The demon lifted his head, taking the angel’s face in his palms. His lips found the other’s, testing the waters. He gave Johnny the opportunity to back out, but the angel returned the kiss.

His left hand gently trailed its way down to Johnny’s right hip, where his initial “12” mark was exposed. As if staged, Johnny’s left hand found its way to Kenshi’s exposed back, his finger tips grazing over the demon’s “3” mark. With a consenting kiss and connected marks, their palms began to glow, signaling the start of the marking process.

The two stood together, hands grasping at each other’s marks. It took about a minute for the pain to creep into the angel’s muscles. A burning sensation ran down his thigh to his knee. While Kenshi remained unphased, Johnny’s leg started to shake lightly.

Pulling away from the kiss, he rested his head against Kenshi’s shoulder, a hesitant growl resonated from his throat in response to the pain. As another agonizing minute passed, his knee started to give out, the only thing keeping him from falling over being Kenshi’s hold on his hip.

“Use your other hand,” Kenshi spoke, his voice ever so slightly shaking, “you can hold my arm.”

Without thinking, Johnny did as told, his right hand finding Kenshi’s upper arm. His fingers dug into the underside of his arm. The pain from his hip spread to his side creating a combined feeling of a horrific side stitch alongside a massive leg cramp. 

In an attempt to mask the pain for the other, Kenshi returned to his prior position in providing a kiss. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for Johnny to pull away again. He tried to speak, but the pain took his breath away, though Kenshi could tell what he was trying to say.

“You’re alright,” Kenshi sighed in an attempt to combat his own aches, “I’ve got you.”

The angel rested his forehead against the demon’s in an attempt for comfort. Having been in immense pain for about three minutes, all he could do was stand there and listen to the other’s calming words until the pain subsided.

After an agonizing four and a half minutes, the pain started to dissipate. Johnny’s body collapsed on itself, all his energy had been used connecting his energy to Kenshi’s. The demon’s hands immediately moved to embrace the other, guiding him to the ground safely. While the process was draining for both of them, it wasn’t nearly as bad for Kenshi as it was for Johnny.

The angel struggled to keep his eyes open, fatigue catching up with him almost instantly. As his eyes closed, Kenshi laid him on the ground comfortably so he could rest.

As much as Kenshi would’ve loved to take a nap as well, he dedicated himself to staying by his partner’s side, keeping watch for any suspicious higher ups. Fatigue wouldn’t stop him from protecting the angel at all costs.

As the angel opened his eyes, he felt disoriented, like his world was on a tilt. He blinked a few times trying to take in his surroundings, to understand where he was and what happened. He felt a sense of fear being unsure of where he was or who was around him, but that slowly ceased as his mind registered the gentle messaging of his hip.

Kenshi had found himself instinctively brushing over the mark on Johnny’s hip, a way of comforting the other. He wasn’t sure how much it actually helped, but he did it anyway. The demon waited for a bit to eventually speak.

“How do you feel?”

Johnny hummed in response, still tired.

“Is this helping?”

The angel nodded, the comfort he felt from the other’s touch kept him from seeing the world upside down. Kenshi huffed in response, acknowledging the silent request to keep at it. 

As Johnny slipped in and out of sleep, Kenshi grew tired. He too wanted to rest from prior events. The next time Johnny opened his eyes, Kenshi asked if he could move them to somewhere more secluded.

“Can you stand?” Kenshi asked while helping the other sit up.

“Mm, doubt it,” Johnny shook his head, barely able to lift himself up from the ground originally.

It was a little worrying the effect marking the angel had, but Kenshi pushed his concern aside in favor of picking the other up. He lifted Johnny into his arms, noticing his leg was still stiff, he quickly moved to somewhere more hidden, somewhere that he wouldn’t have to worry about anything happening to his angel.

It didn’t take long for the demon to join the other on the ground. Without any sort of bed, the floor was just barely tolerable, but for a fatigued pair such as them, it was the comfiest thing in the world. 

Having been newly bonded, Johnny joining Kenshi in being a rank 3, the two settled for cuddling each other for a while. They’ll save rank discussion and their future for a later date.

Right now, the only thing that mattered was the fact that Kenshi’s goal was met. He had saved him.

His angel.

--

Some extra details to think about:

Markings hurt for every pair that consents to one. For Johnshi their marking is the most painful one of the list of character's I have.

Pain of markings is basically like a cramp in your muscle.

Receivers' markings can be found in three places: Their hip, cheeks, or their necks.

Givers markings can be found in three places: Their back, chest, or stomach.

Markings are extremely draining, specifically if the rank distance is large like Johnshi's was. (Johnny had to sit through four and a half minutes of burning pain as his mark switched through the nine stages of ranks before ending at Kenshi's rank 3.)

When bonded with another being, your energies are tied to one another. You can feel what the other feels, comfort them by touching their mark, and overall, just feel closer to your other half.

Angels and Demons all have three types: Angels can have white wings, brown wings, or black wings. Demons can have spiked wings, pinched wings, or rounded wings. (There's more to this, but I don't want to make this too long.) Johnny is a lower-ranking brown wing while Kenshi is a higher-ranking spiked wing.

Ranks also determines the kind of jewelry a person would own. Kenshi's on the higher end, so he possesses golds. Johnny originally being the lowest rank of 12, he possessed bronze.

Kenshi's whole goal in this au was to bring Johnny up from a rank 12 to a rank 3 to keep him safe, of which clearly, he won.

Here's some art to give you an idea of what this looks like :))

@s-icarus-hofmann designed their outfits ! Everyone thank them for the help :))

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

*Caged au*

Charlie:man I didn’t know this was under… *spots Adam peeking at the wall staring at them with black eyes then disappears*

Husk:…welp I’m out! Not dying tonight.

Charlie: Was that Adam?

Angel: Your daddy has some explaining to dooo!

[thecluelessdoctor]

bendy fans

Yall...

[biaswreckmepls]

hi! im just here to give a few more details on the lost serial killer × detective fic. i think jungkook was the serial killer (but i could be wrong) and im not sure if it was taekook or jikook. it was a long long fic, chaptered, and the ending had something to do with a railway track. i hope that helps! i'm sorry i don't know more :(

hey! i read a fic a really long time ago that was incredible. I think it could have been jikook but im not 100% sure. It was like a serial killer x detective type thing. And jungkook was a psycopathic serial killer and it was sort of like a killing eve type thing. i remember a scene where jimin (or whoever the detective was) comes home to find someone who wronged him tied up in his apartment, and jungkook is there and wants jimin to kill the guy. And then another scene where they go on this midnight drive together because nobody can know. And it was all very complicated and i'm explaining this horribly but i thought maybe it was worth seeing :)

(thanks to @ladyc0312 for the suggestion!) ok i've spent too much time on ao3 trying to look for this elusive fic, and I still don't think i've found it, but I'm just gonna post a few that are along the same vein:

Jikook/Taekook + Serial Killer AU/Detective AU

TW: these are all heavy fics with serious topics so read the tags carefully and proceed with caution!

Heathen by Daebon (Jikook, 31 Chapters, E, 161K)

when the caged owls sing by taetaeggukkie (Taekook, 4 Chapters, E, 32K)

The Depraved Duet (series) by nocturnehelli (Jikook, 2 works, E, 224K)

Bonne Nuit, My Angel by HighFunctioningFan (Jikook, 2 Chapters, E, 17K)

I genuinely don't know if these are anything at all, most likely the author has deleted it but I could try and keep looking if you really want me to?

[quietwingsinthesky]

i was trying to think of a way around Lisa & Ben in an Anna lives au but honestly it’s just funnier to me if Lisa’s bisexual and when Dean shows up with this random woman, she’s like ‘oh cool so this is a threesome now. nice. how does she feel about doing dishes because I hate that and so do you.’

[ivyprism]

H Sona Jobs: Revamp and New Part 2

Warnings: Angels, demons, etc.

Lillium is a guardian angel who takes care of flower fields.

Chamomile is a corrupted angel who is an executioner.

Eucalyptus works in a library but is otherwise hidden.

Freesia is a rogue demon who works as a bouncer.

Fleur is the Goddess of Magic and Ione is the Goddess of Dark.

Olearia is a Goddess of Potion and Wisteria is a Goddess of Magical Objects.

Floryn works in an archive/library/bookstore and is the keeper.

Deidamia was a bookstore owner.

Carnation is an idol.

Kalina is an idol.

Meadow is an idol.

Hepatica is a seer who lives quietly but gives fortunes.

Calanth was one of Lucien's companions.

Mimosa is a dance teacher.

Bluebell, Orchid, and Daffodil help watch over the dreamscape.

Clover is a traveler of the universe.

Gladiolus is a traveler of the universe.

Laurel doesn't have a job.

Harriet's job depends on the AU she's in.

Ixia is jobless and is forgotten.

Lilac is a mercenary.

Abelia helps the sorcerers with jobs.

Spirea helps the sorcerers with jobs.

Hesperis, Helichrysum, and Hydrastis are jobless because they're helping keep a community running.

Ianira is a creator.

Halldora and Haizea fuck around with plots.

Forsythia is a tutorial guide.

Bellatrix and Astria travel with the Sun and the Moon to help them.

Calytrix is an astronomer.

Meissa is an astronomy professor.

Yvaine makes astronomy maps.

Calendula is an adventurer.

Cadence is an adventurer.

Linnea is an adventurer.

-------

[nyssasorbit]

Misc. art dump involving my OCs and FCs in the Funamusea universe

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omegaverse/hybrid au, size difference, pet-play, predator x prey, collaring, drugging

fem reader

Thinking about a human collector who decides he wants a new pet to add to his collection...

The air of the animal shelter is polluted by whimpers, howls, and growling as he parades past all sorts of rareties locked up in their cages – all for him to pick and choose from. 

The warden is telling him about the new swan hybrid they wrangled a week ago, wings like an angel with the grace of royalty, a true prize jewel of any collection. 

He thinks it sounds promising before strolling past you.

Placed in one of the smaller cages on the floor, seemingly tucked away so as not to catch anyone’s attention. 

You’re a sorry sight to behold – all starved and shaking – the collar around your throat too heavy for you to lift your head, having to look up at him through your lashes as he crouches down in front of you.

Your eyes are wide like two moons as he sticks a finger in through the bars.

It’s thick like a carrot, and for a moment, you seem like you’re about to scurry away into the very back of your cage – but instead, you inch closer, sniffing at the digit before suddenly snapping at him.

He backs away with a hiss, drawing the warden's attention – who rushes back and knocks his cain against the cage with a growl in his throat, “Stupid critter.” 

You’ve narrowed your eyes, nose wrinkled in anger – something akin to a snarl forming your lips. It’s a funny expression to see on such a normally docile breed.

“I’m really sorry, sir. Bunnies aren't usually aggressive, but we’ve had issues disciplining this one for weeks.” The warden rushes out the apologetic excuse, expecting to be sued.

But the collector only chuckles – a deep sound that makes your soft fur stiffen. “That’s fine.” 

He pulls a handkerchief from his back pocket, all movements calm and collected as he wipes the spill of blood trickling from the small bite mark you’d left on his finger.

“It’s only a nibble, after all.” 

You spit the bitter taste left in your tongue out on his shoes with another sneer.

If it angers him, it still doesn’t show through the lofty smile he wears. His leer is just as poised and heavy as he looks down at you.

“Does she talk?”

The warden had turned to lead him towards the more desirable and tamed section but halted at the question.

He had a puzzled look on his face before he answered, almost in a question himself, “We don’t know.”

The collector scoffed out another small laugh, then pulled out his phone. “How much?”

The warden seemed appalled then. “Sir, we have exotic pets more up to your standard in the back. Are you sure-”

“I want this one.”

The warden looked snuffed at his firm tone. But straightened himself out after a moment. All business as usual. “We can’t guarantee she’ll behave. It could be dangerous-”

But he’s cut off yet again, this time with another rumbling chuckle.

“That won’t be an issue.”

And those dark eyes with that deeply dominating look within them were the last thing you remember seeing before becoming a sleepy heap on the floor of your cage – drooling with a blank stare as you’re carried to the trunk and driven off with.

The tranquilizer makes you fall asleep, waking to heat swallowing you as you’re lowered into a bathtub.

“Let’s get you groomed first.” The same man murmurs in a coo. Petting your head with a heavy hand when seeing your weary eyes try blinking off the sleep – but still left too drowsy to thrash.

Instead, you can just moan as he washes you with a tender smile on his face – his big hands coarse against your creamy skin, rubbing your plush limbs with soap and oil.

“My pets have been an awful handful lately…”

He’s talking about something, but you only catch bits and pieces of the words being said. Something about ruts and scratched furniture – someone’s been pissing in the sofa, and all the pillows are ruined.

He messages the lops of your ears, then rinses them gently.

“But it’s my fault. I’ve been neglectful.”

He cups your tits next, lathering them with the warm milky water, circling your nipples with the gritty pads of his thumbs until they perk.  

Then he delves under the water to find your puffy cunt, letting the hot water rush the sensitivity, making it swell with heat as he splits the lips and pets your clit. 

You buck your hips, and he awes with a light chuckle, crooning down at you. “It's okay, little bunny.”

His carrot-sized finger teases your hole before sinking inside you, filling you in slow and tentative pumps. Sitting next to the tub, just as composed as before, while your cunt squeezes his knuckles.

He hums, watching your body fight the tranquilizer as you seize up and ripple with release.

He retracts his hand, patting them both on the fluffy towel placed next to him. A content smile on his face. “You’re gonna do perfect.”

After he’s finished drying you, he fixes a collar around your throat and carries you out to the others.

“Gather ‘round, pets.” He announces, placing you down on the soft carpeted floors beneath.

Your limbs are still heavy, too weak to stand just yet. But that all changes with the adrenaline kick.

“Come say hi to your new rut-puppet.”

The stench in the air coats your skin with sweat.

“She’s a fragile thing, though, so make sure to play nice.”

Your big eyes skitter around. 

On your left, there’s a wolf, fox, and hyena who all lick their teeth at the sight of you.

Next to them lies a bear that wakens from his slumber. He licks his snout with a huff.

Drool drips from the hang in their lips as they start panting. 

And they aren't the only ones.

On your right, there’s a panther and leopard whose eyes all blackout into nothing but a deep pool of darkness.

Their tails slowly meander behind them as they arise from their beds to stalk you.

You whimper, backing up until your back hits the legs of your new owner.

You lift your head to look up at him, only to see him smiling down at you.

“Don’t be shy now. The smell of fear only makes them wilder.”

part 2

[mondaymelon]

₊˚ෆ 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃, 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄! | sagau lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley x gn!reader

ˋ°•*⁀➷ cw: theme of obsessiveness, yandere (big surprise!!) lyney + wrio's part mentions past abuse, all the stuff that comes as a side to this au !! ngl neuvillette's part is pretty tame he's literally. just a guy (otter)

⤷ [ you, the heavenly being who created celestia itself, has descended upon teyvat in an earthly form. a god, or at least, theirs. ]

— sagau!lyney has always lived to be beheld by the eye.

Displays of extravagance, bouquets of flowers and pairs of white doves fluttering from his finger tips. Yes, that was where he belonged, standing on his place at the center of the stage, bright lights fixed on his form as he swept in his arm in a wide bow towards his beloved audience. Listening to their adoring cheers and drinking it all in - their support, the fame, their fanatic attention.

Attention was always something he had yearned for. Cold days exist in his memory, where he wandered the street aimlessly, pale skin littered with growing purple bruises, his only refuge the light tug of Lynette's soot-stained hands clinging onto what rags he wore. In those times, he remembers, a faint voice from above, angelic and holy, soft and compassionate.

A voice that was, in fact, yours. You had stared with wide eyes at your device as the cutscene began, instantly overcome with emotion. "Lyney, Lynette... was this how you had been living? Goddamn, I know every character in this game has a tragic backstory, but look at them!! They're... they're precious!! Wahhh, I want to take you in... Lyney, you better come home..." They were merely throwaway comments that you had blurted out in the shelter of your room, absolutely fixated on their pretty character designs and the dwindling number of primogems your inventory held. Not only had you lost the 50/50 to Qiqi herself, you were now nearing hard pity, and the charming magician was still nowhere in sight. You shut your eyes "Ah... Lyney, how come you-"

Light flickered before your closed eyelids, and you felt the wind tug at your body. Your stomach lurched, oh shit, were you falling..?

"-won't..."

Someone caught you with ease, swift and capable arms holding you, one supporting your back and the other hefting both your legs. Twinkling purple eyes met yours. "Ah, are you alright?" You quickly shook your head, too shaken to speak words at the moment. Surveying your surroundings only brought another wave of confusion - strange buildings, glittering blue lakes and trees, an unfamiliar landscape... Your gaze shifted, and you caught the sight of uncanny ash blond hair, and the hat that sat atop it. Lyney?

He hummed in acknowledgement. "So, you've just fallen from the sky." There was no way in mistaking his voice. "Is there an explanation behind that, or...?"

"I...I- I don't know why I'm here...!" You stuttered, and he visibly flinched at your voice, eyes widening. Shit, had you done something wrong? You trembled in his arms, attempting to stand by yourself, but he wouldn't let you move from his grasp.

"I see." His voice was quiet, now, and came in a single breath. His pupils shook as he closed his eyes in a smile. "Then, shall I bring you somewhere where you'll be safe?"

His heart was racing, pounding against his chest, and he could hardly breath, instead taking in short, desperate little gasps that did little to keep him standing. You.

It was a voice he swore he'd never let escape his recollection, and now there was a face, and touch to pair it with. He smile widened, and his eyes shined with pure ecstasy. It was you, in the flesh, his archon, his god, the highest being. Your body was holy, and he longed to praise it, his dark heart being cleansed just by bathing in your presence. Yet you seemed so fragile in his arms, how cute... it wouldn't be fair to keep you to himself, but being selfish is what allowed him to get this far. Like a songbird in a cage, he'd trap you, admire you, worship you.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you could feel his smile's sweet grow more sickening every beat of silence that passed. "No, What? I-"

His hand struck the back of your neck. Your voice died as your eyes fluttered shut. And in that moment Lyney pressed a kiss to both of your closed lids, a tender touch that one might describe as "loving", but what truly lie beneath it was far more twisted. His heart beat only for you, and red flushed across his cheeks.

"There's no need to worry, my eminence. I'll put on a show, just for your delight." ₊˚ෆ

— sagau!neuvillette has always yearned for warmth.

A warmth is not present in the courts of Fontaine. There, it is cold, sharp, the biting frigidness numbing the hearts of people - those who stand before him in trial, and those who watch with glee in the crowd, awaiting his final verdict with bated breaths.

Neuvillette was most renowned for his judgement. But it was his own that was a critical flaw. For what truly was judgement? Had he been justified in casting a murderer, in some eyes, but a hero in others, into the Fortress of Meropide? A mere child, who just sought for warmth, just as he had? He fears his heart has also grown cold and indifferent to the world, and he despises himself for it.

Was it not your warm hand that stroked him lovingly so back then, a quiet, soothing touch that swept away the tears and the salt that clung to his cheeks? Was it not your voice who called out to him on those ever so lonely nights, humming an otherworldly tune as your ghostly visage wiped the sorrow that flowed his downcast eyes? Yes, truly. It was your warmth that caused his eyes to glow anew, your warmth that allowed his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears to flush with contentment.

"Oh, wise ludex! This man is a murder! He stole not only my mother's assets, but my mother's life!" The crowd gasped at the dramatic declaration, their gazes shifting back and forth, from the perpetrator to the "witness." "I will dearly miss her... this man, no, this monster, took my mother away by hitting her over the head with none other than a bludgeon!"

Neuvillette's eyes widened. "Mr... Lucas."

"Y-Yes, ludex?"

"It was never disclosed to the public of what weapon the killer used."

The crowd erupted into a series of sharp inhales, surprised noises muffled by a hand over the mouth, round eyes as large as dinner plates, and frantic head turning. Journalists scribbled frantically in their notebooks, sweat pouring from their faces as they stumbled upon their newest cash cow.

"The verdict. Mr. Lucas is found to be guilty."

And they cheered. For what? Neuvillette narrowed his eyes just a fraction, his displeasure rising. They knew nothing. They were just mindless puppets, willing themselves to follow the sway of the crowd, praising and applauding something that naught needed its praise.

A sensation came over him, like the soft caress and flutter of an angel's wings or a soft, sweet sigh escaping from pouting, half-opened lips. The man snapped his head up, hearing the glass behind him shatter and plummet downwards like crystal raindrops, but what verily sent his heart apounding was the sight of a figure, dressed in heavenly silks, bathed in golden light, and descending into the courtroom. He drank it all in with a bated breath, hearing that for once, the crowd was silence.

You landed in his arms. Beautiful. He almost didn't dare move with you in his arms, in fear of his legs giving way underneath him. Your head lulled into his chest, eyes shut, and your pure, unbridled warmth finally met him, finally doused him in its prescence.

"Your... your eminence..." His voice was a mere echo, quiet, containing little sound at all. "I..."

"To you who has granted me such the blessing of warmth, I shall repay with all of my heart." ₊˚ෆ

— sagau!wriothesley has always wanted... someone to hold him.

It's a selfish thing to long for, and a silent one. Who would pay any heed to a duke's ramblings? Love's a thought that he's never quite fully digested, almost as if he can't truly believe it exists. Of course, he's seen Fontaine's couples, strolling up and down the street, hand-in-hand, yet questions himself in what makes them able to love each other. Perhaps it wasn't his problem with them, but more so a problem with himself.

Ah, that was it.

His heart already belonged to someone, someone he had heard once and never witnessed again. Like the softest breath of the wind, or a joyful child's laughter, it brushed through his soul and soothed it, held it in its arms, and fussed over his messy hair and bruised skin. At times, Wriothesley wondered if it was all a dream, for only something that angelic, mesmerizing could not stem from reality. However, as young as he was in those years, he cannot deny the fact that in his dark days - it was your mysterious voice that carried him into the life, your presence that gave him the wings to continue living.

Yes, since that day, his every breath, every flutter of his eyes and every pump of blood that rushed anew into his veins from his heart was solely for the purpose of meeting you once more.

Another typical day at the Fortress of Meropide - paperwork strewn all over his once-organized desk, a cooled cup of tea sitting next to where his hand lie, the other furiously writing away on the said paper. He ran a hand through his hair, grumbling into his palm as he briefly shut his eyes... only to shoot them back upon in a start as he heard the sound of something crashing against the walls, and the sound of paper, flying everywhere akin to a bird.

There was someone, lying, or rather, sprawled across his desk. Dizzy-eyed and muttering something intelligible, a growing red spot on their forehead gradually becoming increasingly more visible. "How did you get in here?" He's immediately put up his defenses, readying his gloves as he steps over - with quiet remorse - the papers that now blanket the ground.

"...Wh...Where am I?"

That. That voice.

Has he stopped breathing? He can feel all the blood rush to his head, and he can hardly think a single coherent thought, only focusing on the rush in his ears, the shaking of his hands, and the sight of you before him, dressed simply in sleepware and glancing around frantically. Gorgeous. Ethereal. The mere sight of you before him had spurred his heart into an erratic, fanatic pace, beating within his body like he'd die if it slowed down.

"Is... Is something wrong?" He was taken aback at the hand waving over his eyes, before settling back into position, realizing that you had been trying to speak with him for the past half-minute in his zoned-out state. Could you see it? The sin that was clearly displayed in his every breath, in his every inch of being?

"No, nothing's wrong." You seemed to have calmed down somewhat, and while your eyes were still filled with confusion, you tilted your head at his words. How come he was smiling...?

"Ah, then about that question-"

"Home. You're home. And this is where you'll be staying, forever." ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) ugh i swear to god i hate every single thing ive ever written for wriothesley he seems so yucky and out of character WJODJKFLJDSMF>

REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! please consider following me as i amm soosososoo close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be crazy if i could reach it before christmas!!!

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf

-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶

[michi-beans]

When your gay feelings win so you end up freeing the pretty plant man and now you run an orphanage together.

Follow up doodles for whatever this au is.

Edit: I've decided to call it Caged Angel just as a place holder cuz I wanna have my au's in separate tags.

[sugamehhq]

Acknowledgement (Johnshi)

More writing for my Demons and Angels AU !

If you haven't read the first post about this AU, I suggest you do as this is a continuation of the first one :))

--

It hadn’t occurred to Kenshi how long it would take for the angel to recover from marking.

He’d been in the angel’s territory way longer than he should’ve been, but his newly claimed partner was first priority. A couple days had passed, Johnny’s leg relaxed enough for him to stand, but Kenshi insisted he take another day of rest. While the angel continued to rest, the demon provided food, water, and comfort. He never once left his side.

However, when the angel awoke, Kenshi sprung the idea of getting him acknowledged.

Johnny became visibly disturbed, “Can’t we just live here? We can find somewhere secluded, we don’t have to-”

“Johnny,” Kenshi sat in front of the angel, “I need you to be acknowledged.”

Johnny stared at Kenshi, once again wondering what laid behind that blindfold he always wore. His hand squeezed the other’s, making his fear known.

“Please..?”

The desperate tone of the demon’s voice was convincing, but it wasn’t convincing enough to get him off the ground. 

“Can it wait a few days,” Johnny sighed, “I don’t think I could face anyone if I wanted to.”

Kenshi’s eyebrow raised in confusion.

“How come?”

Johnny hesitated. Has it not occurred to Kenshi that meeting the higher-ups meant potentially seeing faces he never wanted to see again? Does he not realize Johnny’s never set foot in that area of his territory?

“I feel disgusting,” was how his mind chose to reply.

Kenshi’s hand pulled away slightly causing Johnny to speak up.

“Not because of you, or us, just because,” his voice trailed off.

He wanted to say it to his partner’s face, but he couldn’t form the words to.

With their bond, Kenshi could sense the disturbance in Johnny’s mind. His hand found its way to the angel’s mark, gently massaging it to provide comfort.

“I get it,” he smiled, “just let me know when you’re ready.”

Johnny considered himself lucky. Having landed a partner so understanding and patient was more than he could’ve ever asked for.

While Johnny prepared himself to meet his higher-ups, Kenshi took the time to head back to his territory. When he arrived, he was interrogated immediately.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Where do you think I’ve been Sonya,” Kenshi growled, not bothered to talk to anyone of his kind.

“Someone’s moody,” she pressed further, “did something happen?”

Kenshi silently nodded while collecting some items. He was avoiding conversation as best as he could. As much as he loved Sonya as a friend, he didn’t want to trust anyone with the information of him claiming a low rank, brown winged, angel.

“I’m only here to finish a few things,” he turned to face the blonde, “I didn’t miss anything important did I?”

“No sir,” Sonya saluted playfully before laughing to herself.

Kenshi smiled in response to her energy. She always had a positive light to her. If it wasn’t for her very obvious demon features he would have mistaken her for an angel. 

Having been left alone to tend to his duties, Kenshi thought about his situation. On one hand, it was relieving to know the angel was his, that he was able to secure him to a safe rank. On the other, he worried the angel would have to prove himself to his family, as well as the top demon, Sindel. He didn’t wish to put any unnecessary pressure on him, this leading him to consider Johnny’s words.

“Can’t we just live here?”

While it sounded nice to run away and not worry about anything else but each other, Kenshi was a family oriented man. If he never got the chance to bring Johnny to his family, to receive approval of his actions, he’d feel off. Johnny is a part of him now, which meant he needed to meet his family, at least in Kenshi’s mind, that’s how it’s supposed to be.

He soon realized he was jumping the gun a bit. First, they had to get Johnny acknowledged by the top angel, Liu Kang.

The day Johnny decided he was ready for his acknowledgement, Kenshi could tell.

The angel’s energy, of which is tied to Kenshi’s, was sour. Kenshi could tell he wanted to avoid it longer, but knew he had to get it over with. The second Kenshi set foot in angel territory, Johnny attached himself to him.

“It’ll be fine.”

“I know.”

Kenshi brushed his bangs out of his face before planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. He could feel the angel’s hand creeping up his back to rub at his mark, a silent attempt to comfort himself by easing Kenshi’s nerves. Noticing Johnny was trying his hardest to stall, Kenshi took his hand and started walking. 

When the higher-ups area of land came into view, Kenshi could feel Johnny pulling back ever so slightly. The demon was determined to get this done, so he pulled him forward. The angel’s eyes quickly darted back and forth across the area, unsure of his surroundings. Feeling Johnny growing more uncomfortable with each step, the demon brought him to his side.

“Calm down,” he spoke quietly, “you’re worrying too much.”

“And you’re not?” Johnny bit back more aggressively than he would’ve liked.

“Of course I am,” the demon looked around, “I’m the one who’s not from here.”

The two must’ve looked suspicious as eyes started taking notice of their strange pace. Johnny could feel the burning eyes of angels trying to figure out who he was. While they didn’t recognize him, Johnny recognized a few faces, ones he would’ve preferred to never see again, just like he thought.

Kenshi must’ve realized, his hand holding Johnny’s a little tighter than before.

For Johnny, walking the halls of such a pure and beautiful structure felt wrong. He felt as if his footsteps dirtied the place, that his overall presence tainted its beauty. It felt wrong to be in a place such as this.

Having reached the main stage, Kenshi halted their steps.

His hand fidgeted with Johnny’s, discomfort becoming known.

Johnny looked at him confused.

“Shit,” the demon sighed.

The angel opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off when an angel with their hair tied back entered the hall.

“Hello,” their voice was soft and comforting, “may I ask what you’re here for?”

It was strange, for Johnny at least. Hearing another angel speak with such proper tone and respect was off putting. His hand pulled at Kenshi’s, silently asking to leave.

“We’d like to speak with Lord Liu Kang, if that’s alright?”

The other angel smiled before gesturing forward.

The look of determination on Kenshi’s face was strong, as if he had something to prove. As the two approached the main room, their presence became known to Liu Kang. The white winged angel didn’t speak, he just observed. His face carried a polite smile as he watched Johnny kneel and Kenshi bow slightly.

“Excuse us for interrupting,” Kenshi started before looking back up at the higher-up, “is it alright to ask you a favor.”

If it wasn’t for the proper setting, Kenshi would’ve slapped himself. He sounded ridiculous at that moment.

Liu Kang nodded, still not saying a word.

Kenshi stared dumbfounded, but responded.

“My name is Kenshi Takahashi,” he grabbed Johnny’s arm and pulled him up to stand beside him.

The demon hesitated, his gaze falling to his partner beside him. He offered a soft squeeze to his arm in apology before finishing his statement.

“This is Johnathan Carlton.”

Johnny noticeably cringed at the use of his full name.

Liu Kang noticed his discomfort, but remained silent waiting for the demon’s request.

“I’ve spent plenty of time in your territory getting to know him. He’s sweet, caring, and a wonderful individual to be around. He is, was, a rank 12. I brought us here to request your acknowledgement of Johnny’s new position in rank.”

Kenshi was on autopilot. Normally he was fine with facing higher-ups, but this was different.

Beside Liu Kang stood his other half, whom Kenshi knew.

Kitana. The top demon’s daughter.

Having her there to listen to his proposal stirred his brain. He felt the need to prove his choice, prove his actions to be right.

What he wasn’t expecting to see was her smile in reply.

Only then did Liu Kang speak.

“Good for you, Johnny.”

And that was that.

Just as soon as things began, they ended.

Neither Kenshi or Johnny had time to process the approval of their bond. Liu Kang had his follower angels tend to Johnny, replacing his copper jewels with his newly earned gold ones. While they were occupied, Kenshi was left confused.

“So this is where you’ve been this whole time?”

Kitana’s voice rang throughout the room.

Kenshi quickly snapped out of his daze to nod.

“Mother was looking for you the other day,” the demoness laughed.

“She was?” Kenshi’s proper presentation began to slip.

“Yes, though I don’t believe it was of any importance.”

The demon sighed, so Sonya telling him he didn’t miss anything wasn’t completely a lie.

“I suggest when you head back you take the angel with you.”

“I planned to,” Kenshi bowed slightly.

“Good.”

With that, the demoness left to rest at her partner’s side once more.

When Johnny was released he looked uncomfortable. It was a strange change, but who was he to complain? Instead of his usual bronze jewels, his figure was adorned with a newly supplied gold set. He was told his original bronze was to be cleaned and stored in his room, of which he would learn about later.

“Well look at you,” Kenshi teased to lighten the mood, “all prettied up in gold.”

The angel huffed a laugh, unsure how to feel.

The demon reached towards him, silently asking for contact, of which Johnny complied.

“I’m not sure gold suits me,” he spoke into Kenshi’s shoulder.

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t.”

“It doesn’t do me justice.”

“Bullshit,” Kenshi ruffled his hair while tightening his embrace on the other.

Johnny rolled his eyes before melting into his partner.

“So what’s next?” the angel unintentionally asked, his nerves still blazing.

“Well,” Kenshi sighed, “next would be getting my family’s approval."

Right… His family’s approval.

--

Some information to consider:

Sonya and Kenshi are best friends in this AU.

Liu Kang and Kitana are seen as very intimidating individuals. Most people don't know they're probably the sweetest people to ask approval of.

Acknowledgement is basically just bringing attention to the fact someone's rank has changed. It's not required, but for Johnny's sake and Kenshi's peace of mind, Kenshi required it of him.

Lower ranks and higher ranks barely know one another. Liu kang might be the ruler of the angels, but he doesn't know who Johnny is, hence why Kenshi introduced him the way he did.

Johnny is uncomfortable of the use of his full name. Due to his background, his full name gives him an ick, so he prefers to be called Johnny. It's similar to his given name since he does like his name, but it's different enough to be different from his given name.

Idk if I said it or made it clear enough in my writings, but marking another person results in your energies being tied together. Whatever you feel your partner feels. If you're both feeling nervous then the feeling is amplified since there is two of you. Kenshi and Johnny, when walking through the halls of the higher-up's residence, looked suspicious for the fact they shared intense nerves in the moment. Kenshi is just better at masking it and tried his best to keep himself calm to not overwhelm Johnny more than he already was.

---

Anyway, that's all for now :))

As usual I've written this at ungodly hours of the night, so forgive me if anything sounds wacky.

Regardless, I hope you enjoyed :))

[ink-n-shadow]

Angel reader and demon Simon first argument.

He storms off and leaves for countless of days, till he comes back with some fruits to ease his way into her forgiving heart..

this might be my favorite thing i've written for demon!ghost yet...

[ TIME APART ] 𝜗𝜚 the one where angel!reader and demon!ghost get into their first argument

𝜗𝜚 pairing: broken angel!reader x demon!ghost, brief incubus!soap x angel!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: mature themes (no smut but minors still DNI), angel!reader being a brat, ghost disappearing 𝜗𝜚 link to all my works in the demon!ghost au can be found here

"y'still fuckin' poutin'?"

the feathers at the base of your wings bristle at the sound of his rumbling voice, but you refuse to turn to face him, instead letting your legs dangle out over the bottom of your new cage once again suspended up above the expansive living room. your arms are locked tightly around the hand-welded bars, cheek smushed against one of them as you let out a rather petulant sigh.

all you had asked of ghost was if he would ever let you out—allowing you to walk the expanse of his palace with little restriction. it wasn’t like you would try to run away!

ghost just scoffs bitterly, muttering something about you being difficult under his breath before disappearing through the monstrous living room doors and slamming them shut behind him. the force is enough to rattle your cage slightly, causing it to sway from side to side and jostling you around a bit.

“don’t do that, ghost!” you scream after him as your fingers curl tightly around the bars, trying to keep yourself upright and stable amongst the tremoring movements. “you…you asshole.”

and that would be the last time you saw ghost for days. he would send one of his buddies (an incubus who you learned was named johnny) to lower your cage and feed you at the same times every day. at least johnny was more chatty and lenient than ghost, letting you roam around to your hearts content under the guise of “promise y’won’t tell ‘em? he’ll have my fuckin’ head on a bloody pike if he knew i let his bird out.”

you got to see places you’d never been able to before, like the large kitchen filled with gourmet meals and ingredients courtesy of Hell’s finest. you also found a smithing shop tucked outside near the labyrinth, stocked with the finest metals and blown glass you ever could’ve imagined. that’s where you see the scraps from when ghost made your new cage, multiple ruined plaques where he’d written things like “GHOST’S SWEET ANGEL” and promptly scratched through them.

but you know ghost is coming back one day when johnny’s delicately placing you back inside of the gold cage, latching the cuff around your ankle as his other hand gropes at the fat of your outer thigh (“so fuckin’ soft. how’s the bastard not takin’ care of ye yet, hen?”).

you can hear the distinct and heavy thumps of ghost’s steps before you see him, ambling into the living room with a large wicker basket full of goodies hidden neatly beneath a white silk cloth. you scramble to the other side of the cage, brows pinched together in reignited anger as you listen to ghost quietly moving to the other wall and beginning to turn the crank to lower you.

it’s silent as the chains suspending you groan with loud creaks, cage slowly descending from the ceiling until you’re once again safely on the living room floor. ghost doesn’t even breathe a word to you until he’s gently pulling you out of the cage’s bares, clawed hand pulling the cuff from your ankle and soothing the slightly raw skin with a gentle massage.

“y’have fun with johnny, i take it?” ghost muttered under his breath as he manhandles you with ease until you’re perched on one of his muscled thighs once more, thick arm looped behind your back to keep you upright and the other moving to card through your hair with an unseen gentleness.

you don't bother responding verbally, offering ghost a halfhearted shrug as you unconsciously sink deeper into the comforting touch of his hot skin against yours. as frustrated and angry as you are with ghost, you know deep down that you had actually missed him while he was gone.

ghost simply hums at your shrug, nodding his head gently as he pulls the wicker basket closer to his other thigh. "brought y'some new snacks to try—dunno if y'like 'em, but they looked good."

the demon doesn't wait for you to respond before he's uncovering the basket and letting your eyes fall upon the right feast he brought for you. it's stocked full of your usual favorites—ripe plums, pomegranates, peaches, wheels of different cheeses, freshly baked loaves of bread, and fresh cuts of meat and jerky. but he's also brought you an assortment of what looks like baked desserts, different cakes and cookies wrapped neatly in red ribbon. there's also different candies, sugared gummies and hard jawbreakers in neat pouches.

"don't be shy, angel. try somethin' f'me," ghost coos softly in your ear as he points to one of the small desserts, pulling your hand over and letting your small fingers rest on the edge of the basket.

another petulant huff leaves your lips before you're complying with his command, reaching out to pluck one of the cakes from the top of the basket and bringing it to your opened mouth. you can barely stop the soft moan of content that follows, eyes fluttering closed and a soft smile flickering onto your lips as the flavors of chocolate and peanut butter bleed out onto your tongue.

and ghost lets you eat in peace (and allows you to feed yourself for once), simply leaning back against the arm of the couch and placing a thick arm behind his head as he simply watches you indulge in the treats he brought. once you're full and satiated, he's pulling you up off his lap, standing up to his full height and taking the still almost full wicker basket up with him.

he's almost to the open kitchen door when he peers at you over his shoulder, noticing you toying with the gold cuff and trying to secure it around your ankle. "the hell 're ya doin', angel?"

"getting back into my cage?" you answer meekly under the heated gaze ghost is casting your way, trembling fingers letting the cuff clatter to the floor as you peer up at him with big eyes. you barely catch the soft shake of ghost's head before he's going into the kitchen, calling after you.

"no more cage, 'lright? why don't you go out to the garden for a bit? or y'can go lay down in my bed."

[boyfhee]

ㅤ ꣑୧ : INSATIABLEㅤㅤ𝒻t.ㅤㅤ제이크

꒰ ✉️ ꒱ the sight of blood on your lips makes him kiss you better.

ㅤㅤ﹙1014﹚ ㅤ장르 vampire au, est. relㅤㅤwarnings making out, bloodㅤㅤᐢᗜᐢ i love vampires .. vampires please dm iNDEX

you don’t even notice the small sigh that leaves your lips when your eyes settle on jake, the subtle sound grabbing his attention. your face heats up when he turns his head towards you, lips curling up in a smile.

“see something you like?” his smile only gets wider when he sees your flustered expression, the way your gaze has a hard time deciding whether to focus on his face, or his half unbuttoned, slightly wet shirt. he likes it when he has you speechless, and exactly where he wants. 

you can only lean back on the couch when he comes closer, one hand parallel to your head, pressing up against the soft material of the furniture, the other tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. your eyes instinctively move down to his lips, breath hitching— it doesn’t really help when he has you caged between his arms.

and you’ve been obsessed with something lately— his fangs, and he’s well aware of it. 

“cat got your tongue, angel?” his words bring you back to reality ever so efficiently, but you’re back to daydreaming the second you register the feeling of his warm breath on your neck. he takes in the fragrance of your perfume, his favourite, and then presses a lingering kiss over your sensitive skin. “can i kiss you?”

you nod, way too enamoured by him to form words. you’re busy admiring his face anyway, the way his hair accentuates his face, making him prettier than he already is. he looks a little too good in shirts, and you love it too much for your own good. however, you manage to speak anyway, after a few silent seconds. “you don’t really have to ask,”

he pulls back when you whisper those words against his ears, shaking his head. “i need to hear you say it, sweetheart,” 

“kiss me,” and your eyes flutter shut when he finally presses his lips against yours while your hands fist up against the hem of his shirt. he takes it slow at first, savouring the feeling of your lips against his. jake settles down next to you on the couch, a gasp falling off your lips when his arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you onto his lap. he smiles when your arms encircle around his neck, fingers lost in his hair. he kisses you slow, parting your lips with every move.

minutes pass in empty amidst the lazy kisses shared between the two of you. you hear him mumble sweet nothings between the kisses, some making you giggle and other simply making the butterflies in your chest go haywire. 

jake had no plans to break the kiss until you pull back with a soft wince when his fangs accidentally scratch against your bottom lip and before he could register, there was blood adorned on your lips. 

“oh—” you lift your finger up to your lips, noticing the blood on the tips. “i’ll go grab a tissue—” and you pause exactly when you process the look in his eyes, gaze unwavering from your lips. you can feel his grip on your waist tighten, pressing you closer against himself. it’s scary, and incredibly thrilling. 

another gasp rolls off your tongue when your boyfriend lays you down on the couch, kissing your fingers, then palm, and then a pause as he whispers huskily. “i’m sorry, baby—” a kiss on your wrist— “you just look so—” arms, then your jaw and cheeks. “— irresistible,” 

and then he pulls you in a searing kiss, not waiting for your response. he takes the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth, hand sliding down to your hip to pull you closer as you let out a small whimper— you’re not sure if it’s because of the proximity or the burning sensation on your lips when he nips a little harder over the cut. 

jake would argue that he treats you to the utmost care— at least that’s what he told heeseung when the guy joked about jake sucking blood off you— and he does, never even thinking about using you for his sinful cravings. he has always been wary of hurting you with his fangs between kisses, but right now, not so much. 

not when you taste exactly what he’s craving, perhaps something between blood and the half-eaten sweet cherry vanilla pastry on the kitchen counter. he doesn’t think you’ve ever tasted better. when you lean in to kiss him deeper, he slides his hand just a little under your shirt, drawing soft circles on your skin, but when you wince again, causing him to pull back immediately. 

“are you okay, sweetheart?” he whispers, the expression on his face replaced by concern the very second. he leans back a little while tracing your jaw gently. “did i hurt you?” 

and you put your hand on his cheeks, caressing it tenderly with the sweetest smile on your face. “not really, no,” 

“are you sure?”

“yes, jake, i am sure,” you nod with a reassuring smile.

he buys your words even though he’s still uncertain, and you know it. there’s worry etched across his face, however his eyes betray the desire behind them when his gaze settles on your lips again, all smeared in blood. you can feel the way his eyes trace over as if marking them with insatiable thirst. your heart picks up its pace, already anticipating his lips— but he runs his thumb across your lips, wiping off the blood. “better,”

and he dives right back in.

taglist

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hello hello !!!

I hope you are doing fantastic <3

Could I request a poly!marauders x reader where reader randomly faints in the middle of class after complaining that she felt a little dizzy and the boys comforts her ? (I have no idea if you already wrote for this, if so, I apologize !!)

Lots of love <33

Hi lovely! This isn't super saccharine with the comfort, I hope that's okay! poly!marauders x fem!reader, mondern!au

cw: fainting, swearing

724 words

You sat on the bench outside of your classroom, a half-eaten granola bar crumbling onto your lap when James all but fee-fi-fo-fummed down the hallway towards you, still flushed after rushing here in the middle of practice. 

“Jamie! Be quiet.” You scolded, cutting your eyes towards the open classroom door, the lecture still in progress. 

“Are you okay? Did you fall? Did you hurt yourself?” He knelt in from of you, checking for injury. 

“I’m fine. I was by my chair, my deskmate caught me.” He didn’t look very relieved. 

“What happened, sweetheart?” He pulled his phone out, typing in a number. 

“I just felt a bit dizzy, I have since this morning.” You started. James put his phone down when Remus and Sirius walked through the glass doors. 

“We’ve got the car pulled around.” Sirius scrambled his words out, rushing to you. 

“Remus! Don’t you have work today?” You whisper-scolded. He just rolled his eyes. You went to stand up but all the boys flinched. 

“Careful!” James’ hands shot out to gently push you back down. “Don’t get up too fast.” He beckoned Sirius to cage you on the other side. 

“I was able to walk out of the classroom just fine on my own.” You still took hold of James’ arm and allowed him to walk you out. 

“You’re feeling okay now though, right?” Sirius’ tone was laced with anxiety. 

“I’m perfectly fine.” You reached for him with your free hand.

“Do you know why you fainted?” Remus asked as he pushed the heavy door open, leading you straight to the car. You and James climbed into the backseat, Sirius in the front (it was just like him to never give up his shotgun seat), and Remus driving.

“No.” You could sense the downturn of his mouth without even having to see. “But I’m sure it’s nothing major.” 

“Um, babe.” Sirius was half concern and half sass. “I’m pretty sure that fainting without an apparent reason is very fucking concerning.” You were about to respond but James got there first.

“Why don’t we just backtrack.” He turned to you. “Did you sleep all right last night, angel?” You nodded. “Did you eat today?” You nodded again. “What did you have?” 

“Toast.” You responded. 

“Just toast?” Remus asked severely. 

“It was two pieces. And it’s only just past noon.” You reasoned. He looked displeased but didn’t argue more. James took that as permission to continue his gentle interrogation. 

“Did you have water with that, lovely?” He looked at you, an air of knowingness in his gaze. You rolled your lips in shame. Sirius turned around in his chair to look at you aghast. You knew that Remus was preoccupied with you, since he did not lecture him on seat belt safety. 

“Baby! We literally talked about this yesterday.” 

“Oh like you’re any better.” You scoffed. “If I remember correctly you were also being lectured yesterday.”

“Oi! My water bottle is half empty right now I’ll have you know.” He huffed and turned back around dramatically. You could see Remus rolling his eyes in the rearview mirror. 

“Back on topic please.” He scolded. James took the mantle back. 

“Angel, I think you probably fainted because you were dehydrated.” He said gently. 

“And because you didn’t have a proper breakfast.” Remus scolded. James gave him a look begging for patience and dug through his gym bag. He fished out a full bottle of water and a protein bar. 

“This isn’t much but it will do until we can get some decent food in you.” He handed them over, squeezing your shoulder affectionately. You rolled your eyes, pretending that you weren’t actually very hungry and thirsty. You drank the water in just a few large gulps. 

“Someone’s thirsty.” Sirius deadpanned. 

“Yeah, you. For attention.” You sassed. He turned around, squawking indignantly and swiping at you like a cat. You tried to kick him from your seat but Remus caught your foot. 

“Can you please refrain from fist fighting until we are out of the moving vehicle?” He was trying (and failing) to sound reprimanding. You grumbled. 

“You shouldn’t be fist fighting with the sick and injured anyway, pads.” James said, placing a hand on your thigh. It was Sirius’ turn to grumble. 

“Alright, fine.” Sirius said, faux indigent. “But the minute you’re better, it’s on dolly.”

[quietwingsinthesky]

your investement in the Castiel/Raphael au got me invested, tell me more

Okay, okay, okay so. To understand my thought process on this, you must understand that the thing that peeved me off the most about spn’s writing and what I think did the greatest disservice to Castiel’s character, is that there are no angel characters who really reoccur over a couple seasons. (Ideally, to me, some of them would have stuck around the whole time but eh, pipe dream.) Or, hell, not even reoccurring but fuck, why does Cas never mention anyone? Yes, he gets scenes where he’s sad about his siblings/his species being destroyed as a whole, but as an audience, him putting a face to that, or many, and mourning them specifically? That would have done a lot.

So, okay, I am perpetually upset at spn tossing out all its interesting angel stuff and by the end, them basically being kill on sight monsters with zero nuance and Cas being ‘the exception’ to that, the one who was ‘too broken to be an angel anyway’.

This is why Raphael should survive the Godstiel arc. Not even that they don’t die, I do think Cas should kill them. I just think they should be brought back with him, too. Leave it ambiguous who brought them back, because of course they won’t believe it was God, God is dead, but who else could it be? Cas with the remnants of his Godstiel powers?

But to have them cohabitating together without knowing what they’ve done to each other… Like, if you thought Dean was jarred by walking in to see Cas married to a random lady, imagine him getting to that house and seeing Raphael. Seeing Raphael & Cas exchanging inside jokes, talking about how they picked names for each other when they couldn’t remember their own, and just being generally affectionate. (Also, personally, for me? Raphael being like v explicitly genderless, that not being something that goes away when they think they’re human, and Dean just having to Deal With That with his whole gender issues thing.)

And then the fucking devastation of that being torn down when they remember who they are. That they’ve been at each other’s throats for years. That the whole reason so much awful shit happened is because neither of them would back down, neither of them could, and it was Heaven and their siblings that paid the cost no matter how much they both originally intended to protect them.

And for Raphael to still stay with Castiel when they see him absorb the Cage trauma off of Sam like… gosh… the double whammy of them maybe seeing too much of Lucifer in him for a moment, corrupted by the Mark and his time in Hell and someone Raphael could never have healed but why wouldn’t they take the brunt of the guilt for failing… and then also like. This is Castiel. He is the biggest thorn in their side Ever. But he needs help. And the only other person offering to stay with him when he needs it most is a demon. (Some of its got to be a bit of a pride thing. You think Raphael is going to leave their brother to be nursed by a demon?? Absolutely not.)

It’s the lingering affection of their amnesia. The looming anger of their past. The guilt that weighs on them both for how far their war went and how much damage they can’t undo.

And if they make it through this, things would obv change a whole lot. For one… Raphael purgatory jailbreak anyone? Alsjfhflshkf I’m joking but also like. God, the image of Raphael saving Cas from Purgatory (and maybe just Cas, too, because they still don’t even like Dean alsjfjksjfk sorry bud it’s alright you get to have gay vampire sex). Purgatory, the catalyst for how bad shit got. And Cas is trying to hide there and be punished but also, in a way, hide from having to face what he did, having to look heaven and other angels in the eyes. Raphael stomping in there, slaughtering a fuckton of Leviathan trying to get a bite of Cas, and dragging him out kicking and screaming like! ‘No! You don’t get to wallow! We made this mess! If I have to live with it, you have to live with it!’

Anyway, I also wrote a little ficlet for their hospital time as a proof of concept? I think it came out okay. If you’d like to see.

The bed at the hospital is only built for one person.

It’s such a small detail to focus on, but for the past few months, Raphael has slept with Castiel next to them, back to back like they were expecting an attack even while they were unconscious. Now, Castiel has a bed that only he fits in, and Raphael does not sleep.

It was a bad day. They pass their hand over Castiel’s forehead and feel the tremble that upsets his vessel, the sweat cooling on his brow. He doesn’t scream, but he hasn’t, not for some time. He stews in silence. He tells Raphael what he sees or hears, though sometimes all he gives them is a description of the room itself, like he’s not sure if even that’s real and he needs them to confirm it. He trusts them to help him construct his reality. 

Raphael is a doctor who is more used to losing patients than to saving them. A mechanic who never manages to iron out the last few problems before the car swerves off the road. An archangel who could not hold Heaven together.

They are not someone Castiel should put his faith in. They haven’t earned it, but they are here. That’s more than can be said for a lot of beings, including his beloved Winchesters. Raphael stayed. 

It’s what they know.

Castiel’s hand shoots up and grabs their wrist. They still, the tips of their fingers just barely behind his hairline. He squeezes their wrist, once, twice, and his eyes open. His breathing is disordered. He’s not looking at them.

He called them Lucifer twice, once afraid and once exhausted. Then, later, Anna, three times. Balthazar, five. Uriel, eight. He always figures out that they aren’t his ghosts in the end and apologizes.

“Raphael,” he calls them tonight, or not exactly because his vessel’s vocal cords strain into Enochian. He only dips from their holy tongue to speak to their demonic guard dog, since she doesn’t understand the language and reacts to the sound of it like the grinding of metal. With Raphael, he remains an angel. It’s almost like he’s making up for the months they spent thinking they were humans. Every conversation they had circling things they couldn’t remember and didn’t have the words for. 

In a kinder world, they would have had more time to remain in ignorant bliss, but this is the way of things. Knowledge destroys. It casts them out. It locks them up.

The walls aren’t really the thing keeping Castiel in here.

“You would have made a better God than me,” Castiel says. Raphael’s mouth twists, and they aren’t sure if it’s disgust or humility.

“Or made the same mistakes.” Castiel tilts his head to look at them. He does not look at the eyes of vessels anymore. He forgets that human courtesy. He peers at souls with open curiosity. The center of Raphael’s grace sits at the base of their throat. Without thinking, their other hand follows his gaze to touch the divot of their collarbone, blocked by the high-necked sweater they’re wearing. They still feel cold, even now that they know there is something holy burning within them. 

“No, you would have been a better God,” he repeats himself. “You would have controlled the leviathans, and you would have… You would have created an end that justified the means.” He squeezes their wrist again. “Paradise.” It's been a very long time since they let themselves think of that. Long before Heaven's civil war even started, with doubts borne by Michael's failure to secure Dean's consent. 

“As many angels would have ended up dead.” Raphael may be blunt about their own failings here and not face judgment. The two of them are a pair of collapsed lungs. What stones does Castiel have to throw that wouldn’t shatter his house first?

“But the rest…” Castiel’s gaze drifts and snaps back. “You would all be happy.” He’s not including himself in that category. Raphael notices and does not argue for their ability to show mercy. “You would have accomplished something.” That lingers under all of Castiel’s guilt, empowers it, because for all that he feels he failed, he’s upset by the fact that even his failure hasn’t gotten them anywhere. No one’s death won him anything, not even his own. He’s still alone, and none of their siblings ever came any closer to understanding freedom. 

Except one, and they don’t want the knowledge. It tastes like burnt coffee, and Raphael doesn’t pull that from any vessel’s memory. They have held a mug in their hands, let the liquid roll over their tastebuds, swallowed it down despite the grimace on their face. They remember Castiel smiling at them as he accepted that he shouldn’t touch the coffee machine anymore. Only, he still answered to a false name then, identity wholly unmade into someone who could love Raphael, who could be treated as an equal and a companion in turn.

“We’d be at peace,” Raphael says and tries not to let Castiel hear the bitterness in their voice.

”What did it look like?” Castiel asks, and then he changes it, so minutely that it shouldn’t matter, but it does. “For you, what did Paradise look like?”

There are a lot of answers that Raphael could give him. If he were not Castiel, if he were still the stranger who shared a life with them, they would tell him everything.

But he is Castiel. They’re not allowed to forget that again.

”I don’t know,” they lie. “All that mattered was getting there.” Castiel tenses under them suddenly, eyes flicking away. His grip crushes. “What?”

”Wounds,” he says, quickly, points at a bare wall. He looks back at them. Raphael stares long and hard at where he pointed so that he knows they take the truth they give him seriously. It’s only a wall.

”No,” they tell him, “don’t look at that. You aren’t seeing it right.” Castiel’s relieved. He relaxes again.

”What were we talking about?” he grasps for the topic.

”Paradise.”

”Yes.” Castiel breathes in, eyes shutting, and he smiles. When he opens his eyes again, it’s like he’s forgotten the momentary disruption completely. “Can I guess what it would be like? You can tell me how wrong I get it.” Raphael lets their fingers drift through his hair again, simple preening that calms them.

”There’s no harm in it.” Or plenty, but it’s the wrong place, wrong time, wrong angel, for any of Castiel’s words to have an effect. Castiel thinks. His voice buzzes at the back of his throat, a single note lost from its chord.

”A coral reef,” he settles on, “where everyone has their niche and their role to play, and they help something beautiful grow around them. And it’s alive. All of it is alive.” Castiel has not let go of their wrist this whole time. He was a clingy fledgling, too. Of course Raphael remembers. They remember watching over all of their little siblings, the role that should have been shared between them and Gabriel eventually falling onto only their shoulders.

(Because who could ask Michael to raise more little brothers. Who could ask him to lend Raphael a hand. Who could ask him to shoulder more than he would have to in the future. Who could ask him to be there in the present.)

Castiel is one of the few left who can still cling to them and the one they should yank their wrist from and abandon.

“Was I close?” Castiel asks. He trusts them.

Raphael passes their fingers through his hair again.

Death was peaceful. They don’t know who brought them back. Only that it wasn’t their Father. A different God, perhaps, one who knew how to feel regret, dragged them out of the only rest they’d ever known to drink bad coffee with him.

“Yes,” they lie, “that sounds beautiful. That would be Paradise.”