#gabriel & oc (fen)

[quietwings-fics]

Spin That Record, Babe

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandom: Supernatural Ship: Gen (Gabriel & Lucifer & Michael & Raphael) Additional Tags: Dancing Lessons, Waltzing, Fluff without Plot, Shippy Gen, Gabriel and Raphael are Twins (Supernatural), in an odd angel-y sense. i just feel it deserves a mention., Alternate Universe, Agender Raphael (Supernatural), Angels Becoming Humans, Raphael-centric (Supernatural), Depowered Raphael (Supernatural), Depowered Gabriel (Supernatural), Depowered Lucifer (Supernatural), Depowered Michael (Supernatural), Gift Fic Wordcount: 3070 Summary:

A brief interlude where we find out how many angels can danceon the head of a pinin the middle of Gabriel's kitchen.

The universal experience of having a little brother is that when they find anything that piques their interest, they’re going to run to you and put it in your hands. This is true whether that brother was actually born after you or if he was created in the exact same moment as you were by your Father. This is true whether it is a handful of helium atoms he fished out of a star before Lucifer managed to shoo him away, or a particularly bumpy looking toad he picked up in the garden and is now frightened for its life, or an important discovery on the laptop he found at the thrift store. Raphael is well-accustomed to being the pair of hands that most often received Gabriel’s ‘gifts’. Gabriel waves them over, and Raphael sets down their coloring book and goes. At least, if it’s on the computer, it’s nothing they’ll have to put back where he found it when he loses interest.

“Lesson eight on the good parts of humanity,” Gabriel begins. Raphael does not point out that he’s forgotten lessons three through seven, or that lesson two was a month and a half ago. “The internet.”

“I know about the internet, Gabriel.” He smirks. Raphael thinks about the half-finished bluebird in their book. They shake their head and watch the screen over his shoulder.

“But did you know that they’ve put every piece of music they’ve ever made on there?”

“Every piece,” Raphael repeats with deadpan disbelief.

“Would I lie to you?” Gabriel says. He’s typing in a link. The computer autocompletes it for him. After a minute, the page loads, and after a minute more, it shows a compilation of ‘Recommended Videos’. The vast majority of them announce themselves to be hair braiding tutorials. Absently, Raphael touches one of their own braids. Gabriel’s typing away again, and in a moment, those videos all vanish and are replaced with new ones. He clicks one, and it takes up a larger part of the screen, a spiral of dots in the middle. So far, Raphael is pretty unimpressed.

Abruptly, music blares out of the computer. Raphael jumps back. Gabriel jolts, too, and he scrambles to make it quieter. When it’s bearable, Raphael steps close to him again and listens. It’s the exact same song they heard on the radio yesterday. It sounds different through the computer than it did through the minivan’s speakers, but that’s the only difference. The singer asks for someone to scratch their back and apologizes for any skipping tracks, and Gabriel looks up at Raphael with a very familiar expectant expression on his face. It’s been a long time since they’ve encountered it, and their reaction must be lacking. “I really thought you’d be more impressed by that. Remember when they used to have to crowd around some local bard to hear a tune or two? And now, on demand!”

“I haven’t paid attention to music in a while. How am I supposed to know if it’s any good?” That’s an acceptable enough answer and wipes away the dejected look in Gabriel’s eyes.

“When was the last time you took a vessel? The nineteen eighties?”

“The eighteen eighties. Maybe.” Gabriel looks shocked.

“Raphael,” he says, “I love you, but you have got to get out of the house more often.” He twirls his finger in a loose circle, and then he snaps. “I know a guy. Let’s see if they have some of his work and jog your memory.” Raphael should tell him that they hardly stopped and listened to the music of the times, even back then, but he’s trying so hard to help them connect to this and so they stay quiet. “C-H-A-I- No, there’s a T in there somewhere.” Gabriel wrestles with spelling until the computer gives him what he wants. “Here he is.”

The volume has been lowered to a tolerable level now. Raphael listens. It’s a different kind of song that Gabriel now presents to them. Intense when it begins, and the instrumentation is wholly unlike anything Raphael's heard by chance on the radio. Raphael leans closer, intrigued, and as the song quiets and then races again, they begin to understand. Their heart seems to speed with music, as though any part of them could leave their vessel again and take to the skies. Their chest aches with the reminder of their loss, and the song grows soft again as though in tune with their thoughts before it lifts back up. Raphael wants to follow it.

"It's beautiful," they say. When they look at Gabriel, they realize he's been watching their expression this entire time. Their hand flutters restlessly in time with the spinning chords, a growing desire to do... something with their limbs that they can't put into words. Gabriel takes their hand as he stands.

"Only one thing to do with a waltz," he comments.

And Raphael, as ever, listens to what their little brother wants to share.

"It's simple once you get the hang of it," he says. "There's a rhythm to it. One, two, three, hear it?" Raphael can't pick it out, but Gabriel puts their hand on his shoulder and rests his other hand against their waist. "Step back." When they do, he comes forward. "And to the side, and forwards, and there it is." Gabriel leads them through it, again and again, slow at first and completely out of time with the music. When the song draws to a close, he pauses. Raphael aborts a step forward before they end up tripping them both up. Before Gabriel can even go over to the computer to check, however, it begins to play a new song. "Huh. Convenient. Where were we?" It gets easier with repetition, and as Gabriel brings them in time with the music, Raphael can hear the rhythm he was talking about. One-two-three, in time with their steps, one-two-three, and Gabriel laughs. "You're a natural, Raph."

"When did you learn to do this?" Gabriel is setting the pace, but Raphael is as important to the dance as him. Their movements complete what he starts. It is achingly familiar again.

"I've had a lot of time and a lot of hobbies. Taxidermy, dish-washing, and a dozen different styles of dancing. It's all about finding the right partner." Raphael sweeps left with him. All that Gabriel doesn't say is clear in how surely he grips their hand, in the mixed surprise and gratitude that crosses his face when Raphael moves in tandem with him. They don't have to wonder how long he spent searching. The answer was one gaping wound in the body of Heaven and one empty chair at Sunday dinner. Raphael sat with his absence for so long that they forgot how vibrant Gabriel was. Now, he guides them both around the table all four of them ate breakfast at this morning, and if Raphael had the choice, the music would never stop.

Behind them, they hear the door to the apartment shut loudly. They don't need to turn around to know who it is. They read it easily in Gabriel's expression, the slight tilt of his head and smirk at the corner of his lips.

"Care to join us, Luci?" In a few more steps, Gabriel has turned them enough that they can see their brother. Lucifer looks aggravated, which is why they usually don't let him go to the store (or anywhere he's expected to interact with humans for more than five seconds) alone. His gaze drifts over the two of them, and some of that frustration melts away. He sets down a bag on the counter. Inside, Raphael can see pasta. That's reassuring. If no one supplies him with the materials, then none of them will have to live through Gabriel's more experimental cooking again. (Gabriel claims that casseroles are perfectly acceptable human dishes, but they're borderline inedible to Raphael. Likewise, he regards the fact that they tend to combine food according to complimentary colors to be abhorrent.) The music continues on as Lucifer makes his choice. The computer has an endless supply to play for them. Finally, their brother steps forward. Gabriel might have his head cocked confidently like this was all a master plan coming together, but he squeezes Raphael's hand excitedly when Lucifer looks like he'll come dance. He's fooling no one.

"What do you say? Dance with the devil?" It takes Raphael a moment to realize the question is directed at them. Gabriel tips his head at Lucifer, who is kicking his shoes off to the corner of the kitchen. Raphael was expecting him to go instruct Lucifer the same way he did them, but when offers this option, they find themselves stepping away from one brother towards another. Gabriel holds onto their hand for as long as he can before he has to let them go. He circles them, favoring a hands-on teaching method as he places Lucifer's hand at Raphael's waist where his was before. Raphael closes their eyes and listens to the music instead of Gabriel telling Lucifer the steps. They find the rhythm again.

One-two-three.

One-two-three.

One-two-"Raphael?" They open their eyes. Lucifer is waiting.

A dance with Lucifer is more difficult. He is not, or should not be, a part of them any longer. Where moving in tune with Gabriel still came as naturally as a heartbeat, it becomes arrhythmic when Lucifer takes his place. And yet, the disconnect isn't wholly in them, but in their vessels, imperfect conduits through which they must interact. These muscles were not trained to fight together, and for as light on their feet as it makes them feel, dancing isn't much like flying at all. Perhaps Raphael could match Lucifer in flight through the rings of a solar flare with ease, but a waltz leaves them both clumsy. Raphael moves to the rhythm that Lucifer hasn't picked up yet, and Lucifer steps too wide for them. Gabriel's hands land softly on their back or Lucifer's arm to offer corrections. It is, to be blunt, a mess.

Raphael hasn't had this much fun since-

Well. Since their light and laughter left Heaven.

They can see the strain his missteps put on Lucifer's pride, and for that, they keep their mouth shut. Gabriel does not, teasing him for his flat-footedness, but then Gabriel was always Lucifer's favorite. All he gets in return is a glower and an easily dodged bump. He comes around Raphael's other side and puts his hand over where the two of theirs are joined. "And lift," he says. All three hands go up. Gabriel nudges Raphael forward until they go under the arch they've formed. They didn't lift them high enough, and Raphael can feel Lucifer's wrist brush the top of their head before he corrects it. Around they go until they're back where they started.

"I want to do that again," they say. Obligingly, Lucifer lifts their hands to let Raphael under them again. It's simple, but it's delightful. They settle back into their previous positions, and the dance continues.

Raphael's not sure when Michael gets home. One moment, it's only the three of them, Gabriel now off to the sidelines as they and Lucifer have gotten better at dancing, and the next, they turn and see Michael standing near the entrance, watching them. They miss a step, and Lucifer's foot bumps into theirs. He follows their gaze back over his shoulder.

"I didn't want to interrupt," Michael says when what he means is that he knows he shouldn’t. It might be guilt or it might be pride, but either way, Michael will lament that he can never let himself be a part of them the way he desperately wants. Perhaps, if he was only faced with Gabriel and Lucifer, they would let him pull away and feel sorry for himself while he does it, but Raphael has spent lifetimes wrangling Michael. 

“Come dance, brother.” Michael is hesitant, but he comes. 

To kill Lucifer required Michael to be closer to God than to them. Son to absence, rather than sibling to what remained.

It is very hard for Raphael to see Michael as above them, by age or experience or their Father’s blessing. Lucifer can treat Michael like His surrogate on his worst days, and Gabriel looks at Michael like he should have been wise enough to protect them all. Raphael is the one who stayed long enough to comb broken feathers from Michael’s wings when he stopped doing it himself. They would have followed him until the end and cared for him in the aftermath of Lucifer's death, which would, even if neither of them ever acknowledged it, destroy him as much as falling on the battlefield himself.

Raphael rests their left palm against Michael’s right and guides his other hand to rest against their shoulder. They place their right in the middle of his back. 

“I’m leading,” Raphael says firmly. Michael’s eyes drop to where they’ve positioned his hand but they draw back to Raphael a second later. He opens his mouth to say something, but he decides against it. Raphael closes their eyes, focuses on trying to find the rhythm Gabriel pointed out earlier. It lies hidden beneath the rest of the musical flourishes, but as steady as ever goes the one-two-three. They exhale, and they step back. Michael takes a moment too long to step with them and breaks the rhythm. 

On the next cycle, Raphael tries again, and Michael, expecting it now, goes. They grow more bold, guiding him with the hand at his back. They prompt him to turn slightly with their next steps, and they manage a slow circle. It brings Gabriel and Lucifer back within Raphael’s view. Lucifer’s hand is on Gabriel’s waist, but it’s clear from the way they move that Gabriel isn’t waiting for him to decide the steps. Gabriel catches their eye. He winks, and Raphael can’t hide a smile in return.

With another rotation, they lift their arm for a spin. Michael’s hand doesn’t follow, caught off-guard again, and Raphael realizes Gabriel didn’t show him how to do this. They grip Michael’s hand and lift it for him, using their other hand to make him turn. They have to lift onto their tiptoes to get both their arms over his head.

When he’s stopped twirling, they’re still holding hands. Michael lets his grip falter, but Raphael only holds on tighter in response.

The music ends abruptly. Gabriel goes over at the computer. Raphael’s hand falls from Michael’s back. They’re expecting another waltz, another familiar rhythm. Instead, the computer starts singing again, a woman’s voice, a soulful swing to her words.

“Gabriel?” they ask. It’s a small sensory overload compared to the music they were dancing to. They can’t pick out the one-two-three. How are they supposed to dance to this?

”There’s more to this than following the steps.” Gabriel holds out a hand. “Any takers?” To go to him, Raphael has to reluctantly let go of Michael, who looks like the sudden change in tempo has sent him into shock. Gabriel takes both of Raphael’s hands in his. “Freestyle, Raph!” Raphael has no idea what that means or even where to start. Luckily, Gabriel sees. He tugs them into something similar to a waltz, the same circle, but with steps that aren’t nearly as organized. They spin together, and it can only loosely be described as ‘in time’ with the music. Gabriel looks delighted.

There's a scuffle and a thump from the couch that has them all turning. Fen's woken up from his midday nap and barrels across the checkered floor into the middle of their little gathering. Fen always moves like a dog that has not yet realized it is quite small, and as such, is constantly bumping into chairs and legs like he expects them to be pushed aside. He hits Michael's leg this time, yapping excitedly. He recovers, shakes, and circles Raphael and Gabriel, still barking.

Gabriel lets go of Raphael to pick him up, hoisting the little mutt into the air as he wiggles around and tries to lick at Gabriel's face. Gabriel spins and dips, leading to another round of barking. Some part of Raphael wonders if they shouldn't remind Gabriel about the noise complaints they've already got a collection of, but then Gabriel hugs Fen close and looks completely at peace. Their neighbors will simply have to live with a little barking and dancing.

It's Lucifer who steps forward first to take Gabriel's place. Raphael lets him. He's humming along to the chorus, and they join in, not thinking much of it until Lucifer stops all of a sudden, looking a little shaken. Raphael spares him a reaction, keeps humming, until he gathers himself and carries on like it's nothing. Like he hasn't been deprived of his siblings' voices for centuries. Some things are meant to be remedied, not talked through until the scabs are picked to bleeding.

Michael hesitates again. Of course he does. But not forever. On one twirl, (just as fun as the first time. Raphael is never going to get tired of this. Their vessel disagrees, slightly winded but it hasn't forced them to stop yet.) he steps in, and Raphael goes from Lucifer to him. There's a frustrated noise from Lucifer, quiet but clear, and Raphael takes Michael's hand and guides him until his back is to Lucifer. His focus is on them, and when they put their other hand on his chest and give him a gentle shove, he's not expecting it. He stumbles backwards into their brother.

Gabriel freezes. Fen tries to nip at his ear with a confused whine. Raphael holds their breath.

Michael hums. Lucifer is silent.

Michael's humming falters. He makes to step away. Lucifer catches the tune where he left off, wraps his arms around Michael's waist, and hooks his chin over his shoulder. For only a few moments, they sway. Michael raises a hand to lay over one of Lucifer's. Lucifer lets out a breath, releases Michael, and retreats. Michael stays frozen.

It's enough. Raphael takes pity on Michael and moves back into range to dance again. Behind him, Lucifer passes Gabriel's offered hand, but he doesn't leave. He watches them from a comfortable distance until the music ends, Michael and Raphael tire out, and Fen starts squirming to be put down.

(Enjoyed it? Any interaction is welcomed. You can even support me on Ko-Fi <3)

[bluejay-writes]

Heaven is a Misnomer - Chapter 10

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Rating: Teen Chapter 10 Wordcount: 3074 Characters/Relationships: Jake (Exchange student OC) / Raphael Summary: Jake learns some things about Raphael, and invites him to movie night at Azrael's.

Author Note: I am strongly considering discontinuing the full-text chapters on Tumblr. (Yes, because of the AI garbage.) If you're actually reading it here and not on AO3, send me an ask or reblog with commentary or leave a message somehow about it, k?

You can also read this on AO3, if that's your jam!

First Chapter || Prev Chapter || Next Chapter > (Next Tuesday!)

Chapter 10: I did it for you.

When Jake and Bunny got to the gym, someone was busily pedaling a stationary bike in the machine room. Jake was curious, but he didn’t automatically feel terrified, so it wasn’t Michael, and he decided to leave whoever it was to their workouts. Besides, if it was Fen or Gabriel, they might get spooked by Jake and Bunny barging in where they were working out, and the last thing Jake wanted was to spook someone out of taking care of themselves.

He’d shed the hoodie before they left, knowing that he’d be way too warm in it. The Celestial Realm’s ‘perfect 75 degree weather’ was actually a touch warm for jogging outdoors, given that he came from a cold weather climate. So there he was, in his demon-approved workout wear, stretching carefully before doing lunges with Bunny. It was leg day, after all.

That was the perfect time for the person on the bike to decide they were warmed up enough to come lift. Bunny glanced up and smiled at whoever it was who came in. Jake could hear them racking a few weights onto a bar, but decided not to be nosy, and just finished out his stretching routine. His politeness and commitment to privacy meant that he had no idea who was behind him when Bunny suggested they start with some lateral lunges - for stability, she said. That made sense to Jake, and it’s the same thing they started with last week.

Halfway through the set, Bunny’s phone starts ringing, and she grumbles, but moves smoothly from her lunge over to the shelf she’d set her phone on. While this is happening, a sharp gasp rings out from behind them, and the heart-stopping sound of a barbell hitting the floor and bouncing just that little bit causes Jake to turn around mid lunge in a panic, half to his feet when he realizes the person behind him lifting was none other than Raphael.

In what felt like a fraction of a second, Jake was in front of Raphael, checking him over top to bottom and then carefully looking at his hands to make sure that he’s okay, muttering quietly the entire time, mostly to himself except that he’s admonishing Raphael while he does it.

“You really should have someone spotting for you when you’re lifting like this, Raph. What if no one was here and you hurt yourself with that drop? You lift as much as Bunny does, with this body of yours, you can’t let it get hurt just because you’re a compulsive loner!”

Raphael caught both of Jake’s fluttering concerned hands in his own, and Jake froze and looked up at him, eyes wide. Why was this damned angel so tall, anyway? Like, Jake was tall to start with but Raphael made him feel short. Sure, it was only like two inches, but that was plenty when they were this close.

“I’m fine.” was all he said, and Jake realized what he’d been doing and how close he was to the discipline angel, pulling his hands away and backing up a few steps to give Raphael some space. Oh. Oh no, I even nicknamed him. Angels don’t like that. Go ahead, dig yourself deeper, Jakey.

Before either of them could say anything else, Bunny walked between them.

“Aya needs my help with something, so I am going to go check up on her. Jake, I’ll just do squats later, you should spot for this idiot before he hurts himself.” The gruffness of her tone did not match her usual chipper nature, and both Jake and Raphael turned concerned looks on her as she left the gym.

“Well.” Jake said into the silence that reigned after her departure. “That just happened.”

“It did.” Raphael said, and Jake realized his cheeks were slightly pink. “She’s not wrong. And neither were you. I should have had someone spotting for me. I know better, I just…” He trailed off, and Jake wondered what he was thinking that would make him lift like that without help.

“Listen.” Jake said quietly, as if a normal volume might change the situation too much. “I can’t spot you for what you’re lifting, I’m not strong enough. But I spot Bunny for 200s, if that’s okay? Smaller weight, more reps?”

“Yeah.” Raphael said, matching his volume. “I could do that.” After a moment, he took the extra plates off of his bar, carefully checking them for damage before racking them.

“Actually, if you’re spotting, can we do bench?”

“So.” Raphael said, once they were settled into a routine. “I didn’t take you for a lifter.”

“I’m not.” Jake said, plainly. “Bunny asked me to spot for her right after the program started, and she’s been training me ever since I agreed the once. It’s actually been good for my anxiety. I feel safer, for whatever reason.”

“You can fight back, if you’re stronger.” Raphael said, and Jake sensed that he was saying it with understanding, not just theory. Moments later, he confirmed that with what he said next. “I used to be really afraid of almost everything. Then I started training, and it got better, knowing if I needed to, I was strong enough, fast enough. That I could protect myself. Now, it’s just habit.”

“But you’re the angel of discipline.” Jake said, confused. “Aren’t you like, the strongest?”

Raphael laughed, a mocking bark of a laugh that Jake wasn’t expecting. “That’s my title. Mostly, I like to rain spears down on people. It’s fun, and I’m more than a little bit deadly with one. But I’m not the strongest by far. I’m just Michael’s attack dog. The one he sends out if he needs something… handled.”

Jake shivered. He understood that laugh a bit, now. But it made him a little more uncomfortable with Raphael living next door.

“So you moved in next to me in case I needed that extra bit of discipline.” He said, eyes firmly on the bar, and not meeting Raphael’s.

“No.” Raphael said, racking the bar and sitting up so he could meet Jake’s eye. “That’s not it at all. I asked Michael to let me handle the exchange program because I was worried about you.”

“Me?”

Raphael looked away for a moment, his cheeks darkening just slightly, before meeting his eyes again. Jake didn’t know how to take that at all.

“You, especially. But everyone else, as well. Michael has… a temper. A need to control. And you were pushing his buttons constantly. And as a normal human, he can’t force a covenant to make you toe the line.”

“Azrael said something similar.” Jake said, nodding.

“I knew, if I offered to handle it, he’d relax. So… I’m handling it. Which mostly means just being around in case anyone needs anything. The most it is for me is a smaller room for a year. I can cope.”

Jake chuckled. “Well, if you ever need more space to relax or work on classwork, I have way more space than I need, just knock.”

“Jake, thank you.” Raphael said softly, as they got back to the hallway that led to their rooms. “I really appreciate you being willing to spot me.”

“Anytime, Raphael. Seriously, I actually enjoy spotting for you strong folks. It inspires me.”

They parted ways, and Jake took himself through the shower, spending far too long thinking about a certain ash-blonde angel.

Jake was bouncing around his room, gathering things he’d need for the movie night they’d planned. It was the sort of low-key fun that he and Nia always had, and he was pleased to have made a few good friends here in the Celestial Realm so that they could spend one of their rare off-nights doing this.

“Jake?” Raphael’s voice called from his doorway, and he turned to see the angel, leaning casually on the doorframe.

“Hey Raph.” Jake said, and winced as he saw the light pink appear on Raphael’s cheeks. “Sorry. Raphael. What can I do for you?”

“Well.” He said quietly. “You don’t have to stop calling me that. Just… I won’t be able to respond to it in front of Michael, okay?”

“Really?” Jake grinned, his entire face lighting up. “Thank you.” He couldn’t really explain just how much that meant to him, but he hoped that Raphael understood. Either way… that was two angels who accepted his nicknames. Out of three angels he’d reasonably call his friends, that felt monumental.

“Yes, really. Also, I… got this for you.” Raphael was holding a hoodie that did the same gradient from blue to gold that the undersides of his usual angel attire did. “I’ve only worn it a few times, but I thought you might enjoy having a hoodie that didn’t require you to make sweater paws just to function.”

Jake could tell that his cheeks were red, because they felt like they were on fire. So did his ears. He walked over and took the hoodie from Raphael, immediately exchanging it for the oversized purple monstrosity he’d gotten from Bunny. It was impossibly soft, and while still a little bit large for him, it was in the “this is my boyfriend’s” way, and not in the “I stole this from a giant” way. Aaaaand Jake had probably better not think of it in the stealing clothes from his boyfriend way either. Friend, though… friend was good.

“Thank you.” he said, eyes shining as he looked up at Raphael after half-zipping the hoodie. “It’s incredibly soft.” He paused a moment, and then followed his heart. “You wouldn’t want to come to movie night in Azrael’s room tonight, would you?” Jake was still rather surprised that she even left her room for classes. Suddenly, Jake wondered when she did her angel of death bit, if she was always in her room. Well. He could ask her later.

“Am I invited?” Raphael said, looking a little bit stunned, which given his propensity for non-expression meant that he was very stunned.

“Of course! Movie night was my idea, so it’s my party. We’re just having it at Azrael’s room because she’s a hermit who doesn’t like to leave her room unless someone insists that she must.”

“Fair.” He said, his expression once more neutral. “I’d be happy to come along.”

Jake was excited to get to spend more time with his new friends. It was ostensibly movie night but he had a feeling they’d probably end up playing a game or something that allowed them to chat more, once the movie was over. Hopefully bringing Raphael along wouldn’t be a problem, but he’d smooth it over if it was. They all seemed like they’d get along just fine if Michael weren’t involved, anyway.

Jake swanned into Azrael’s room like he owned the place, Raphael trailing after him a bit like a lost puppy. Bunny and Aya were already there with Azrael and Feniel. There was one spot left on the couch for Jake, they clearly hadn’t been expecting him to bring along a wayward Angel of Discipline.

“Hey, fam! I invited Raphael to join me!” he said, plopping down next to Feniel. Aya and Azrael were in the lounge chairs, with Bunny holding down the floor next to Aya’s chair, since she took up the whole couch by herself if she sat there, and she was perfectly happy with a pillow and the floor.

Raphael took one look at the way the room was arrayed, and settled himself on the floor in front of Jake, leaning against his legs. Jake knew he was blushing, but luckily Raphael was looking the other way, so he would never know.

Azrael was the first to recover, and she just laughed. “Trust the wayward Human to bring their own plus one. It’s fine though, Shiny turned us down, she’s working on a paper tonight that she failed to work on for the last three weeks. Her loss, we’re watching Howl’s Moving Castle tonight.”

Jake grinned. This was one of Nia’s favorites, he’d have to message her about it. He pulled out his phone, and once he’d messaged her, his phone beeped with three incoming messages.

“Oh, better put that on silent.” He said, somewhat breathily at the messages in front of him.

Aya > Jake: Nice new threads - steal them from your boyfriend?

Feniel > Jake: Raphael? Really? How’d you tear him away from his Michael worship?

Raphael > Jake: Please do tell me if I am being too familiar. I wanted to follow Yboun’dih’s lead in sitting on the floor, and I thought you’d be most comfortable with me in your space, when compared to Feniel and Azrael.

Azrael had turned the lights off with voice commands (a neat bit of tech, but also somewhat creepy) so Jake knew he couldn’t respond on his phone, so he did the best he could otherwise. A wink to Aya, a shrug to Fen, and a reassuring shoulder squeeze for Raphael.

The movies had been wonderful. And, if he was being honest with himself, it was mostly because Raphael had actually relaxed against him after the first half hour or so rather than being mister tense. It was also because Jake felt like he was actually relaxing with friends for the first time in months, but he’d also come to terms with his situation. He had a massive crush on Raphael. Spotting for him in the gym gave him time to really get a sense for the angel, and what he’d learned… well, there was one good thing about being trapped in the Celestial Realm for the rest of this year. And it was the eye candy that was his dorm neighbor.

Jake startled when his phone made a little chirp. He hadn’t put it on silent yet. That was step one. Step two was checking his messages. Oh! Nia.

Nia > Jake: Hey, Jakey, you awake? Jake > Nia: Nia. It’s like 4am there, what are you doing awake? Nia > Jake: It’s 2 there, I could be asking the same thing. Jake > Nia: I just got home from movie night. Unintentional double feature because Azrael found out that Raph hadn’t seen Spirited Away, so… Nia > Jake: That’s a tragedy! Jake > Nia: Agreed. Anyway, why are you texting me at 4am? Nia > Jake: I made a pact with Beel.

Jake blinked. That’s a second pact. And not with the boy she’s interested in. Either of them. Or, was she interested in this one too? Beel seemed like a boy Bunny, maybe a hungrier one, but. A real himbo, from what Nia’s said. He didn’t disapprove, even if it wasn’t up to him.

Jake > Nia: Whoa. Two pacts! Nia > Jake: Yeah.

Should he say it? He had to say it.

Jake > Nia: And you’re still the legal owner of your soul, I hope. Nia > Jake: Of course I am, I honestly just agreed to go out to basically every human-safe Devildom restaurant. Jake > Nia: You agreed to endless dates as an exchange for protection from Mr. Beefy? Nia > Jake: I mean… yeah, that’s a pretty good description.

That was one hell of a deal, really. But… Well, Nia was telling him about her relationship things, even if Pacts were like the ultimate platonic commitment and not romantic like his realizations for the evening. He should still share with her even though he knew it would probably keep her from going back to sleep properly.

Jake > Nia: Well, my crush gave me one of his hoodies, so… Nia > Jake: Your crush?! How long were you going to hold out on telling me about him? Jake > Nia: I thought you’d have guessed by now.

Even as he pushed send, Jake knew it wasn’t entirely fair. Even he had only really realized it today. But he also knew how easy it was for his bestie to read him, often before he figured things out himself. She’d clocked the fact that he was gay months before he admitted it to himself. He could see the same in her, it’s why they were so close. Lucikly, they’d never had crushes on the same boy before, so that helped keep them from having petty fights. But if she was going to date every single demon, well, it was only a matter of time before they saw eye to eye on hotness. Mammon was an absolute snack.

Nia > Jake: You talk about Azrael and Feniel enough, but one’s a girl and the other you sa

Jake stared at his phone when the incomplete message popped in. Then, Nia started and stopped typing probably a dozen times before her next message came through.

Nia > Jake: HOLY SHIT IS IT RAPHAEL?!

Jake laughed so loud he had to smother his own face in his pillow to avoid waking Raphael nextdoor.

Jake > Nia: Shh, keep it down, you’ll wake the neighbors.

His phone buzzed as he was sending that message, and what he received made him laugh again, but tamer.

Raphael > Jake: Everything okay in there? Jake > Raphael: Sorry if I woke you, texting with my devildom friend. Raphael > Jake: You didn’t wake me. You and she should probably get some sleep though. Jake > Raphael: You too. Thanks again for the hoodie.

Right. Right. Stop flirting. Back to Nia.

Jake > Nia: I say, and then wake my neighbor laughing anyway. Jake > Nia: But yes. He’s so hot. And nice. And I’m pretty sure he fumbled his lift because of my spandex ass earlier. Nia > Jake: OMG what?! Jake > Nia: Aya loaned me workout clothes so I’d stop working out in jeans. Nia > Jake: And…? Jake > Nia: It’s leg day. Nia > Jake: And he fumbled a lift? Boy was checking you out! Jake > Nia: I thought so too. But he was so smooth about it, and he’s Michael’s right hand man, so… Nia > Jake: Oooooooof. Yeah. okay. Jake > Nia: I shall admire him from a respectable distance and enjoy the hell out of this hoodie. Nia > Jake: That sounds like a great plan. I am gonna… sleep. Nia > Jake: Oh right!!! I made cookies with Beel and Luke, btw. So expect a delivery #soon. Jake > Nia: 🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪

Jake set his device aside, making sure it was plugged in properly, and crawled into bed. Pajamas and Raphael’s hoodie? Absolutely. He slipped the eye mask that Azrael had gifted him over his eyes to keep the perpetual sun out, curled up, and slipped off to sleep with thoughts full of cute boys and impending cookies.

[wings-for-freedom]

NSFW art under the cut!

“Transparency”

Just a fallen angel and her girlfriend who replaced her wings and also is possessed by Fenrir.

Micron liner, art marker, Prismacolor colored pencils, Crayola colored pencils, and liquid acrylic ink.

Artwork and characters (Gabriel & Levi) (c) ink-asunder.

[genericmuses]

Supernatural:

Bobby Singer (canon, hunter)

Ben Braeden (headcanon based, hunter)

Remiel (oc, archangel of hope & mercy)

Helena Moseley (oc, hunter & psychic) 

Felix Manganella (oc, prophet)

Máximo Espinoza (oc, hunter)

Ari Espinoza (oc, hunter)

Cameron Sorin (oc, bad witch/hunter)

Evana Holmes (oc, good witch/hunter) 

Seth Morello (oc, good witch/hunter)

Kaidan Singer (oc, hunter) 

Camael (oc, archangel of war, strength & courage)

Navin Rai (oc, hunter)

Fandomless:

Oberon (fairy king/god, Supernatural influences)

Dean Akkerman (witch & magic shop owner)

Dorian Zaman (wereleopard)

Mianni (wish fairy)

Wesley Lightfoot (half-fae information dealer)

Leo Moore (hunter & doctor)

Surendra Egillsson (conspiracy thoerist & provider of supernatural intel)

Richard Morgan (witch)

Ali Jensson (witch/hunter)

Gabriel Akkerman (witch & con artist)

Derek Strand (witch)

Fen Norwood (shapeshifter)

Frank Fisher (witch & runner of a “neutral zone” bar)

Terry Beckett (vampire)

Jonnny Tregenza (vampire & 70s rockstar)

Mythology:

Hades (Greek, god of the dead & king of the underworld) 

Hecate (Greek, goddess of magic and witchcraft) 

Hathor (Egyptian, goddess music, dance, joy, love, sexuality and maternal care)

Bastet (Egyptian, warrior & sun goddess)

Brynhildr (Norse, Valkyrie)

The Morrígan (Irish, war & fate goddess)

Twilight:

Billy Black (canon, human)

Jack Swan (oc, vampire or human depending on the timeline)

Lillian Cullen (oc, vampire)

Welcome to Nightvale:

Carlos Palmer (canon, scientist)

Dana Cardinal (canon, former mayor)

Marvel (various movie worlds):

Tony Stark (MCU canon, Iron Man)

Wade Wilson/Deadpool (Deadpool canon, mutate)

Neena Thurman/Domino (Deadpool canon, mutant)

Ororo Munroe/Storm (X-Men canon, mutant)

Night World:

Thea Harman (canon, witch)

Rashel Jordan (canon, hunter)

Poppy North (canon, vampire)

Caspian Harman (oc, witch)

Morgana Harman (oc, witch)

Other:

Rupert Giles (Buffy the Vampire Slayer canon, watcher)

Isabelle Lightwood (Shadowhunters canon, shadowhunter)

Margo Hanson (The Magicians canon, magician & king)

Jack O'Neill (Stargate SG1 canon, member of SG1)

The Tenth Doctor (Doctor Who canon, Time Lord)

The Fourth Doctor (Doctor Who canon, Time Lord)

Romana (Doctor Who canon, Time Lord)

[hetafamilytree]

Families

AmeBel 🇺🇸🇧🇾

Amelia F. Jones (🇺🇸) and Nikolai Arlovsky (Nyo🇧🇾)

Sergei Arlovsky (son)

AusHun 🇦🇹 🇭🇺  

Elizabeta Hédérváry (🇭🇺) and Roderich Edelstein (🇦🇹) 

Zselyke Edelstein (daughter)

Maria Theresa Edelstein (daughter)

István Edelstein (son)

Annalise Edelstein (Nyo🇦🇹) and Daniel Hédérváry (Nyo🇭🇺)

Franz Hédérváry (son)

Anna Hédérváry (daughter)

CanUkr 🇨🇦 🇺🇦 

Matthew Williams (🇨🇦) and Yekaterina [Katyusha] Chernenko (🇺🇦)

Sofiya Williams (daughter)

Ivanko Williams (son)

Natalka Williams (daughter)

CuSey 🇨🇺🇸🇨

Carlos Machado (🇨🇺) and Michelle Payet (🇸🇨)

Elena Machado (daughter)

Gabriel Machado (son)

Czechoslovakia 🇸🇰🇨🇿

Milos Dubček (🇸🇰) and Šarka Chytilová (🇨🇿

Eliška Dubček (daughter)

DenNor 🇩🇰 🇳🇴 

Lucia Bondevik (Nyo🇳🇴) and Mathias Køhler (🇩🇰)

Magnus Køhler (son)

Astrid Køhler (daughter)

Lukas Bondevik (🇳🇴) and Mathilde Køhler (Nyo🇩🇰)

Christian Bondevik (son)

Karla Bondevik (daughter)

Sverre Bondevik (son)

EstLat

Eduard Von Bock (🇪🇪) and Raina Galante (Nyo🇱🇻)

Raivis Galante (son) 🇱🇻

Frisa 🇫🇷

Francis Bonnefoy (🇫🇷) and Lisa Martin (Beautiful World)

Jéanne Bonnefoy (daughter)

Maylis Bonnefoy (daughter)

FrUK 🇫🇷 🇬🇧 

Arthur Kirkland (🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿) and Marianne Bonnefoy (Nyo🇫🇷)

Étienne Kirkland (son)

Luc Kirkland (son)

Amber Kirkland (daughter)

GerIta 🇩🇪 🇮🇹 

Feliciana Vargas (Nyo🇮🇹) and Ludwig Beilschmidt (🇩🇪) 

Heinrich Beilschmidt (son)

Leonardo Beilschmidt (son)

Bianca Beilschmidt (daughter)

Clara Beilschmidt (daughter)

Feliciano Vargas (🇮🇹) and Monika Beilschmidt (Nyo🇩🇪)

Giulia Vargas (daughter)

Andrea Vargas (son)

Giripan 🇬🇷🇯🇵

Heracles Karpusi (🇬🇷) and Sakura Honda (Nyo🇯🇵)

Chizuru Karpusi (daughter)

Koralia Karpusi (daughter)

Artemis Karpusi (Nyo🇬🇷) and Kiku Honda (🇯🇵)

Honda Chuuya (son)

HongIce 🇭🇰🇮🇸

Emilía Bjarkidottir (Nyo🇮🇸) and Wang Jia-Long [Leon] (🇭🇰)

Brynjar Wang (son)

KorBel

Natalya Arlovskaya (🇧🇾) and Im Yong-Soo (🇰🇷)

Nadzeya Arlovskaya (daughter)

Im Seong-jin (son)

LietPol 🇱🇹🇵🇱

Feliks Łukasiewicz (🇵🇱) and Tiesa Laurinatis (Nyo🇱🇹)

Aušra Łukasiewicz (daughter)

Felicija Łukasiewicz (Nyo🇵🇱) and Toris Laurinatis (🇱🇹)

Mieszko Laurinatis (son)

NedBel 🇳🇱🇧🇪

Beau De Vries (Nyo🇧🇪) and Tessa Morgens (Nyo🇳🇱)

Maarten De Vries (son)

NedCan 🇳🇱 🇨🇦 

Lars van Dijk (🇳🇱) and Madeleine Williams (🇨🇦)

Jean-Paul van Dijk (son)

Anika van Dijk (twin daughter)

Lieke van Dijk (twin daughter)

PruBel 🇩🇪🇧🇪 

Emma van Djik (🇧🇪) and Gilbert Beilschmidt (Prussia) 

Frederich [Fritz] Beilschmidt (son)

Wilhelm Beilschmidt (son)

Johannes Beilschmidt (son)

RoChu 🇷🇺 🇨🇳

Wang Chun-Yan (Nyo🇨🇳) and Ivan Braginsky (🇷🇺)

Anastasiya Braginskaya (daughter)

Shou-Ming Braginsky (son)

Anya Braginskaya (Nyo🇷🇺) and Wang Yao (🇨🇳)

Wang Xue-Mei (daughter)

RomBul 🇷����🇧🇬

Aleksandra Dragova (Nyo🇧🇬) and Vladmir Popescu (🇷🇴)

Andrei Popescu (son)

Scotland 🇬🇧🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 

Alistair Kirkland (🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿) and Mary Brown (OC)

Fiona Kirkland (daughter)

Lachlan Kirkland (son)

Spamano 🇪🇸🇮🇹

Carmen Isabel Carriedo (Nyo🇪🇸) and Lovino Vargas (🇮🇹)

Fernando Vargas (son)

Esperanza Vargas (daughter)

Nico Vargas (son)

Marina Vargas (daughter)

Santiago Vargas (son)

Antonio Hernández Carriedo (🇪🇸) and Chiara Vargas (Nyo🇮🇹)

Esmeralda Carriedo (daughter)

SuFin 🇸🇪🇫🇮

Berwald Oxenstierna (🇸🇪) and Taika Väinämöinen (Nyo🇫🇮)

Lahja Oxenstierna (twin daughter)

Lumi Oxenstierna (twin daughter)

Torbjörn Oxenstierna (son)

Beatrice Oxenstierna (Nyo🇸🇪) and Timo Väinämöinen (🇫🇮)

Petra Oxenstierna-Väinämöinen (adopted daughter, NyoSealand)

Erland Oxenstierna-Väinämöinen (adopted son, Ladonia)

Niilo Oxenstierna-Väinämöinen (son)

SwissLiech

Elise (Lili) Vogel (🇱🇮) and Vash Zwingli (🇨🇭)

Liesel Zwingli (daughter)

Rika Zwingli (daughter)

Taiwan 🇨🇳🇹🇼 

Wang Mei (🇹🇼) single mother

Wang Shu-Fen (daughter)

ThaiViet 🇹🇭🇻🇳

Nguyen Kasem (🇹🇭) and Nguyen Lien (🇻🇳)

Nguyen Viên (son)

Nguyen Kanya (daughter)

TurkEgy 🇹🇷🇪🇬

Sadik Adnan (🇹🇷) and Ghazal Mohammed-Hassan (Nyo🇪🇬)

Fahriye Adnan (daughter)

Nadir Adnan (son)

USUK 🇺🇸🇬🇧

Alfred F. Jones (🇺🇸) and Alice Kirkland (Nyo🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿)

Issac T. Jones (son)

Tyler E. Jones (son)

Victoria H. Jones (daughter)

[nenestansunsthings]

Do you have any old OCs you haven’t used in a while?

... yes.

there are only really two that i think count since most of my characters, like blackbox and A. and english and the like are all just canon characters that i've twisted until they're unrecohnizable. their names are sol "phosphor" and matthew gallows. their backstory is very, very long and i WILL rant about it for paragraphs at a time so it's all goin under a cut thanks.

also please be careful because of, uh... child abuse, acts of violence, murder of parents, cannibalism, attempted fratricide, and just generally monstrous stuff that i really should not have been telling as a bedtime story. please don't read this if it sounds too violent. i'm a little scared of the things i came up with too.

[[MORE]]

so! sol's the first one! basics: they're a reality bender and they're genderfluid and adhd as fuck. they're made of stardust and sight and the shattered debris of a dead world and they're the child of life and death. they're in the psych department because i love the psych department with my whole heart. and they're absolutely terrifying when they're not trying to be nice.

they were also an asshole. they're getting better.

the absolute mess that was their life started pretty much the moment they were born. they were. they were the second oldest child in the thorne family. their oldest brother was named lepur thorne and he was pretty much their parents' views of perfect.

little baby sol started out trying to imitate lepur as much as they could. they were trying to be as close to him as possible and did their best to match his personality and actions. but it did not work. even when their younger siblings were created and the family started getting less focused on lepur they were still hated and thought of as a pale imitation of everything good. so around when they turned thirteen they went right in the other direction. and then they became an absolute nightmare.

the problem was that they were a reality bender. so things started getting literally nightmarish. they were, of course, around fourteen and also immortal, so they had little to no impulse control and no sense of consequences. thankfully for their immediate surroundings, their whole family was also terrifying and mostly immortal. so. the consequences at least weren't permanent.

sol's parents responded as all reasonable parents do. they launched the equivalent of a smear campaign against their child and made every single other child they created fear them.

sol quit after that. disowned themself and left at seventeen to make a better life for themself. only they'd lived with a violent and very murder-happy family for so long that they'd pretty solidly cemented arson, blackmail, psychological warfare, and homicide as very fun hobbies to indulge in.

they carved a bloody path across universes and made themself a thousand different titles and names. king. overlord. all-seeing. the bright sun. starburst and master and the demon of pride and every other thing they wanted to be. if they were going to be a nightmare, they were going to be one of their own making.

and this is where matthew comes in.

matthew was born william lavenza in a city no-one but sol remembers the name of after he'd destroyed the world it was on. his parents treated him like a slave and hated him with every inch of their being when he wasn't doing what they asked. even when still in preschool he knew this very, very well.

he met sol one day when he was seven. more specifically, he saw sol, physically six years old and wanting to live a life they'd never had as a child, order a spider to die for funsies and watched with great, great interest as it dropped dead.

he was hesitant to start talking to sol, but very quickly the both of them became friends. and it was the best thing both of them had ever experienced.

sol, however, had a very vindictive streak when it came to asshole parents. and they swiftly started to uncover matthew's as well. they made each other worse and worse and worse until one day, nine years old and very, very angry, matthew killed his parents where they stood.

and the blood sang to him.

not literally, of course. all blood can do is pool. but he felt the call of it like it had. he felt it as strongly as sol felt for the sun and the feel of drying someone to dust under their power. and he didn't want to hold back. so matthew, ah... got rid of the bodies.

he learned a taste for human flesh after that.

sol and matthew became terrifying. they left that universe and made it die together and travelled the multiverse to do it again and again and again. they lived a million lifetimes as monsters and nightmares and the terrors that thrived in the day and the night.

they stopped being alone partway through it, too. that didn't bode well for whatever world they found themselves in, but they had fun with it. they were joined by mike cinder and jeremy fen, a boy who'd become a flame demon and a water spirit barely passing as human. mike was tiny and constantly furious and loved harassing people until they snapped and he could hit back. jeremy was lazy and had a rivalry with matthew and treated mike like a little brother he could throw at people who annoyed him. they shared secrets and played games with one another and created the most reviled friendship group in the known universes: the chaos brigade.

(somewhere, in a universe with a number i can never remember, this group is filed scp-1799.)

they start getting complacent, though. comfortable, in their power and in their place and in their roles with each other. they start to forget there could be anything but this. they start to forget there could be anything less.

and then sol finds their younger brother, gabriel, and all bets are off.

sol goes on a sibling hunt. they're a little bored, really, of only having three people to be with day by day. they wouldn't give up matthew for the world, of course, but the other two? there's only so much that they can do. so sol finds some more people to add to their little brigade. gabriel, first, a nervous mess of a man who's got a heart both made of and desperate for gold. then his son dio. and coraline toragay and otome megumi. and then lepur.

... lepur thorne, while being fancy and rich and smiley and polite, is also a hedonistic prick who likes watching interpersonal drama. especially drama he's caused. and he absolutely hates sol, because sol's particular brand of drama is explosive and bright and violent, and by god is he going to destroy them.

he plays nice at first, of course. pretends to warm up to his sibling and get a place in the group. he even brings in a member of his own, one adam milton, an agent of the foundation sent to contain him who he seduced into switching sides. things are stable a little longer.

then he plants doubt.

it's already hard for mike and jeremy, since their quartet's suddenly been drastically expanded and they both just hate other people. coraline and otome drop out almost immediately when they realize lepur's starting shit. gabriel falls far too easily for lepur's tricks and gets distrustful on his own. and sol gets retaliative.

they start a fight.

it's on an empty world, thank god, but they and lepur just fucking go for it. try to tear out each other's eyes and hearts and magic and souls as painfully and destructively as possible. it's a rush of magic and snapped reality and gunfire and assault and it only ends when lepur pulls out one last resort.

see, the thorne family is only mostly immortal. mostly. there is only one way to kill them. and that is an invocation, kept hidden away and unfindable in death's own deepest dungeons. an invocation that lepur memorized.

so sol dies.

... almost.

lepur leaves a little early. and matthew finds them just in time.

and matthew is furious.

matthew, at this point, is powerful. and he's attached. and he's married to sol, too, for extra points to the rage meter. and even past that sol's the first friend he's ever had, the only person he wants to be with forever. he'd tear down worlds if it would help them.

that wouldn't help them, though, so he does the only thing he can do. he threatens to murder death with his own two hands if death doesn't fix this immediately.

death only agrees because he knows matthew would do it.

he doesn't fix it completely, though. because he'd much prefer sol dead, too. death is honestly just a terrible father here. so sol's left to fix the cracks in their magic and the psychological trauma on their own.

... they leave for another world. one they haven't burned and salted yet. matthew follows. they both let the multiverse believe that they're finally dead and try to make a life for themselves after everything they've destroyed.

and then o5-6 finds them. and they decide the foundation's a worthwhile place to start doing that.

[civilians-of-nothingtown]

CHARACTER UPDATES!~

i have switched some stuff around. therefore some of my ocs are doing different things. here u go

tyler and elias are pretty much the same, although elias has been rejuvenated by eating a certain someone (cough) njord (cough)

ross and the inner circle aren't doing so hot, mad and patch got kidnapped and tortured for information (they eventually died and were respawned in their home base, but patch is rarely seen anymore, even for heists. he barely speaks to anyone)

SR700 AND ROSE ARE THRIVING

zek is being gay and doing crime. as always

rogue is still... jakkals little anubite dude. he be carrying out... bad shit

adonis and his babies are also thriving

ANXIETATEM AND MEZZ FINALLY GOT REUNITED even though they have to rekindle their friendship because mezz's memory got thanos snapped

jakkal is dealing with Feelings™ and also trying to not feel bad over what he somewhat unintentionally did to rogue

thorn b missin her bf

alex is having the usual existential crisis

max and tide are still. yaknow

leo is being a stupid idiot, and surprisingly, against all odds is trying to get better. although it isn't working very well yet. thanks to a certain ink demon

reese, sasha, and clark are all chîllîn. reese still cannot talk

karnarka is fucking dead (he will be back tho)

natalia and virgil celebrated their anniversary, which included debauchery and lots and lots of corpses

vaz n gabriel are pining over each other like dorks. vaz has one (1) brain cell

tenki, kaskae, and fen are chilling. lena got fired for basically losing rogue and thus is now pissed

enid is.... enid

njord got eaten alive, costing him one of his lives. he don't wanna leave house now

ari and niko also b chillin

kaz, ky, and tex are chilling™™™

ikra is helping leo, although it's kinda impacting his mental state a little, he can heavily relate to the bastard for reasons i will explain later and pities him

sage? they're..... well. they're still sad over eating their bf

remi stole 500k worth of videogames

rin is not really okay still, but,

[trash-child-king]

WELP @fen-porium MY FRIEND I LOVE YOU AND YOUR ARTS AMAZING. She did this lovely art of our Detroit Become Human oc’s. (because yeah we be garbage) Sweet sweet Gabriel who is mine (right) And her character levi/graham (left). She was kind enough to let me color (my shading is shit lmao my bad)  I love our dumb kids so much. Thank you.

[smolsartandfic]

Christmas Pictures

I'll be drawing Hollow Knight ocs for those who ask me, at the moment I have.

Alice, Josh, Steph, Mikhail, Michael, Renee, Napsta, Joey, Bella, Pixel, James, Jean, Zoey, Sonic, Funtime Freddy, Mages, Chan, Derpy, Gabriel, Lauren, Mel, Breezy, Brianna, Mary, Emilee, V, Jeremy, Fen, Alpha, Hat, Frisk, Sans, Gaster, Ballora, Springtrap, and others.

The drawings aren't complex, so I can do multiple per day, I won't take anymore requests once it's Christmas Eve. If you miss out, you can maybe ask on your birthday, but be warned, I keep track, or wait till another holiday.

[quietwings-fics]

Home Sweet Home

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: N/A Fandom: Supernatural Ship: Gen (Gabriel & Fen) Additional Tags: Moving, Home, Furniture, Past Gabriel/Kali (Supernatural), Pre-Canon, Gabriel-centric (Supernatural), Domestic Summary:

Gabriel moves in.

Gabriel flicked on the lights to an apartment that was bland and dusty. Beige walls greeted him like lazy cows, with barely a glance to acknowledge his existence before they went on chewing their cud and farting. The light above, the only light in the whole place, flickered from the effort of the Herculean task he’d set it. The double windows on the other side of the room had droopy eyes from the broken blinds, half-covered on one side with the other missing to reveal the grime crusted into the corners of the glass.

Under Gabriel’s arm, Fen wriggled. He’d been stuck there patiently for at least half an hour while Gabriel had danced along with the motions of getting his documents in order and his keys handed to him. The lady down in the office of the complex had had eyed him with suspicion, but how was she supposed to know that Fen weighed a couple hundred pounds more than the sixty pound limit on dogs in the building? He was light enough to toss around when he wanted to be.

Gabriel lifted him up to give him a kiss on his tiny wet nose, receiving a dozen enthusiastic licks in return before he set Fen down and let him pad around the edges of the room.

“Bit of a fixer-upper,” Gabriel mused. The ceiling above him creaked as his upstairs neighbor moved around. He made a face. Fen sat in the middle of the floor and whined at him. “Not as fancy as Kali’s place, I know.” He scowled because the other option was to admit to feeling heartbroken, and he wasn’t doing that until he’d set up a TV and a dozen pints of ice cream for good measure. Fen flopped down against the floor and pouted. “Stop acting like a child of divorce and help me pick out where the furniture should go.”

Gabriel didn’t really have a vision of what he wanted the place to look like yet. He was flying by the seat of his pants. One thing he did know was that the pitiful excuse for a kitchen that was tucked into the corner had to get more inviting. Cabinets that didn’t look like they were falling off their hinges and a stove that was halfway between shiny-new and well-loved rather than familiar with the rust on its burners. He opened the fridge they provided him, and then he shut it just as quickly. There were things growing in there that God never imagined. Gabriel blinked that fridge away and put a new on in its place. Right at the foot of it went Fen’s dog bowl.

What was the point of having grace if he couldn’t have fun redecorating? Make the dishes do a little song and dance before they tucked themselves into the cupboards and retile the walls with a snap of his fingers and sweep away the old wooden flooring for carpet until he’d made himself a nice nook. He leaned back against a small dining table he didn’t have to carry up six flights of stairs and took it in with pride. 

Fen yelped as Gabriel started playing with the living room next. Whips and chains with mood lighting to match turned into housewife chic with a light up poster above wine before noon gave way to a disco ball scattering light over the whole room. Fen chased one of the glittering beams, sticking his nose into it like he could catch it. Damn, but Gabriel missed disco. Humans let things fall out of fashion too quickly. Disco, plaid dresses, the guillotine… By the time Gabriel was catching up on the fads, they were already years out of date.

The light was kind of headache inducing once the novelty wore off. Gabriel sighed and sent it back beyond the veil where the style of ages past belonged. He rolled out rugs under his feet, tiger, zebra, bear, but the heads always gave him the creeps, so he went psychedelic instead, all fuzzy pinks and greens and blues with plenty for fluff to sink his toes into. Fen rolled across it like a kitty on catnip.

Gabriel could lean into sleaze. That was fun, the sharp contrast between the bright and welcoming kitchen and his den of hedonism. He dropped himself back into a cushy loveseat, first blue, then purple, then red when he settled on it. He made sure the carpet would match while the walls turned to complimentary wood. He popped the leg rest up and leaned back on his arms as he worked out the rest of the room: a couch too green to tell if it was dingy and too dark to check for stains, magazines littering a coffee table with two ringed marks doubled up on the left side and coasters that would never be used stacked just next to them, the light above them finally getting a rest as Gabriel swapped it out for a dimmer bulb.

Gabriel took a deep breath. The loveseat squeaked under his weight.

Fen popped up, paws on the footrest and tail wagging so hard that Gabriel could hear it beating.

Gabriel patted his stomach. “Here, boy,” he called. Fen leapt up onto him and squirmed around until he was comfortable enough to flop down in Gabriel’s lap. Gabriel scratched behind his ears. “What do you think? As good as our last place now?” Fen huffed in disagreement. “You’re not exactly helping me get over her, you know.” Fen’s tail thumped against his chest as he pushed his nose onto Gabriel’s arm like an apology. Gabriel sighed. “Well, I like it,” he said, mostly to himself.

He’d still have to sort out the bedroom later. He was thinking dark pink bed, heart-shaped, sheets like satin and covers thick enough to feel squished under them. Lava lamps? Maybe a shelf to store knick-knacks on. All the good stuff he’d found over the years, his personal sketch for modeling for Michaelangelo (and definitely earned the night after) and the ankle bones of an old vessel he’d loved (he should go visit her great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandkids sometimes soon, make sure they’re getting on alright) and… one of Lucifer’s feathers (which would spend half of its days displayed where Gabriel could see it and half of them shoved into a drawer where he didn’t have to think about it.)

Home sweet home, if he did say so himself.

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[quietwings-fics]

Podfic: trials, tribulations, some tears by TheQuietWings

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandom: Supernatural Ship: Gen (Gabriel & Lucifer & Michael & Raphael) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Depowered Gabriel (Supernatural), Depowered Lucifer (Supernatural), Depowered Michael (Supernatural), Depowered Raphael (Supernatural), Good Older Sibling Michael (Supernatural), Good Older Sibling Lucifer (Supernatural), Stitches, Minor Injuries, First Aid, Angels Becoming Humans, Medical Inaccuracies, probably. what do i know., Aftermath of Violence Podfic Length: 00:18:16 Summary:

First aid is not a skill archangels are usually required to be well-versed in

Download/Streaming Links: AO3 - Google Drive - Internet Archive

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[quietwings-fics]

trials, tribulations, some tears

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandom: Supernatural Ship: Gen (Gabriel & Lucifer & Michael & Raphael) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Depowered Gabriel (Supernatural), Depowered Lucifer (Supernatural), Depowered Michael (Supernatural), Depowered Raphael (Supernatural), Good Older Sibling Michael (Supernatural), Good Older Sibling Lucifer (Supernatural), Stitches, Minor Injuries, First Aid, Angels Becoming Humans, Medical Inaccuracies, probably. what do i know., Aftermath of Violence Wordcount: 2212 Summary:

First aid is not a skill archangels are usually required to be well-versed in.

Gabriel’s apartment has, for the past month, been a place of noise and chaos and far too many fights. Tonight, it is silent. A spider skitters its way across the bathroom tiles. The tiny sunflower on the windowsill strains to catch the last dregs of light. The TV remote continues to nestle behind the couch where it won’t be found for another week. A very sleepy dog rolls onto his belly and snorts into the rug. It’s peaceful. Too peaceful.

Voices clamor outside. Muffled but distinctly upset.

“-only a matter of time before one of your demons-”

“This is not my fault!”

“Would both of you dicks shut up? Raph’s hurt-” The dog perks up, tail beginning to wag until he recognizes the fear in his owner’s voice. A key clinks against the outside of the door’s lock before sliding inside with a click and letting the cold air and the four once-and-no-longer-archangels stumble through. “-and all you care about is the blame game,” finishes Gabriel. His hair is messy and the jacket he left with is missing. Compared to his siblings, he’s practically unscathed. His dog bounds over to him, whining. “No, Fen, don’t.” Gabriel ducks to pick up the dog and makes room for the rest of them to enter.

���This would never have happened if-” argues the oldest being in the room, who currently looks like a sleep-deprived teenager with a black eye. Lucifer is settling Raphael on the couch, kicking the door closed behind himself. A pained noise tears itself out of their throat. Michael goes dead silent. “You’re right,” he says, softer, “you’re right, little brother. I’m sorry.” He waits a moment, and he sighs when, predictably, Lucifer does not echo his apology despite putting up half the fight. “Humans have places they go for injuries. Hospitals. We should take them to a hospital.”

“Oh, great idea, genius. On whose insurance?” Gabriel shoots back from the kitchen. Michael frowns.

“What’s insurance?”

“Nick had that,” Lucifer says. He’s helping Raphael take off their shirt so that they can better assess their own wound. “Humans don’t keep each other from dying unless you fork over money. Insurance is so you pay less money. Or more. It’s confusing.”

“We don’t have that?” Michael asks.

“We don’t have that.” Lucifer confirms. Michael grimaces. Raphael slaps Lucifer’s hand away before he accidentally touches their wound.

“It’s a graze,” they say. Michael wants to argue that it’s bleeding a lot more than a glancing blow should. He’s not sure how much Raphael’s lost, and that’s upsetting. Knowing exactly how much the human body should have is useless when he doesn’t know how much is still inside Raphael. They fix him with a sharp look. “You are not taking me to the hospital.” It’s disquieting to be ordered around by Raphael, enough so that he doesn’t even think to keep fighting. Gabriel returns, well-worn first aid kit in hand. It’s seen a lot of use over the past month.

“How many bandages do we need?” He asks. There is something in his voice that is very close to becoming panic.

“We have a suture kit,” Raphael says.

“Since when do we have a suture kit?”

“Since I bought one,” Raphael continues. They’re holding onto Lucifer’s arm hard enough that their nails are digging in. He doesn’t complain. “I don’t trust you to not injure yourselves.”

“And yet,” Lucifer teases, “look who got stabbed.” Raphael digs their nails in harder. Lucifer doesn’t even flinch. Gabriel goes to get the suture kit. Michael feels more than useless, relegated to pushing the curious dog away from the couch and watching Raphael suffer. They shift and hiss in pain, and Lucifer leans forward and murmurs something that has their fingers flexing against his arm again. The smile they give him is thin and pained, but it’s real. Michael looks away. It’s not a bad thing, that Raphael and Lucifer have become... close. It’s what they’re all meant to be doing, trying to be a family again.

He just thought it would be harder for Raphael and Gabriel to start seeing Lucifer as their brother, that’s all. That there would be more of a struggle. That Michael wouldn’t still be floundering and unsure of how to proceed around them, around Raphael who stayed, who he has been alone with since Lucifer fell, while Lucifer found his footing with seeming ease.

“Found it,” Gabriel says. Michael watches him lay out the suture kit on the cushion next to Raphael and look at them expectantly. Raphael nods, turns away from Lucifer.

“Sterilize the needle with an alcohol swab.” There’s a shake to their voice that sings of pain. Michael stops himself from stepping forward to soothe it. He’ll only get in the way. Gabriel does as Raphael says. “And gloves. Put on the gloves. Take the needle out- Not with your hand. With the needle holder. Yes. That.” The needle Gabriel is handling is curved like a half-moon and gleams just as brightly, a trail of thread following in its wake. Raphael nods again.

“Now?”

“There should be forceps.”

“Tweezers looking things?”

“Use that to pull the skin away from the muscle.” Gabriel swallows. Michael sees him lower the forceps towards the wound. Raphael leans back, jaw set, eyes shut. They force out a breath through their nose when Gabriel pokes at the cut.

“Sorry,” he says. He turns the forceps slightly. He gets a hold of the skin for a second, but it slips. Raphael winces. Gabriel tries again, pinches too hard this time. His hands are shaking, Michael realizes, and then he doesn’t think before he’s pulling the last set of gloves from the kit and dropping down beside Gabriel. He takes the needle holder from him first. It’s hovering over Raphael’s wound at the wrong angle and shuddering too much in Gabriel’s grasp to stitch anything. It takes a minute. Gabriel doesn’t want to let go, but once he has, the forceps are released quicker. He sits back, hands on his knees, breath coming hard and fast. His dog wiggles into his lap, worried, and Gabriel hugs him close.

Michael looks up to meet Raphael’s eyes. There’s a confusing mixture of emotions reflected in them, and surprise is not one he expected to be part of it. It’s one he’s ashamed is there. He lowers his head. “Tell me what I need to do.” Raphael’s free hand, the one not trying to leave nail-shaped scars on Lucifer, falls onto Michael’s shoulder. Michael does what Gabriel was instructed to before, pulls the skin from the muscle, angles the needle. At Raphael’s insistence, he pushes it through.

They cry out. Michael stops pushing immediately, afraid he’s done something wrong. They shake their head, squeeze his shoulder, and he continues until the needle comes through. He punctures the skin on the other side, and Raphael’s hand flies to their mouth to muffle their scream. Instinctively, Michael reaches for his grace. He only needs a little, not even to heal the wound but to dull the pain, please. He’s met with unwavering silence. The needle slides through, pulling the thread after it.

Raphael instructs him how to cut the thread and tie the knot properly. Michael’s hands feel too clumsy by far, but it’s adequate. They look awful. Michael wants that to be it, but it isn’t. He needs to do it again. Six more times, Raphael determines. Michael takes a deep breath. He readies the needle holder over their wound again. The gloves keep his hands from being bloodied, but that doesn’t change how his chest aches every time they twitch and bite back another noise.

At the end of the third suture and the beginning of the fourth, when Michael is readying the needle holder again, but still inspecting the knot of the last one in case it wasn’t good enough, Raphael whispers, “Stop.” It’s a horrible rasp of a word. Michael freezes, but they’re already gritting their teeth and shaking their head again. “I didn’t mean to- It just-” Michael understands, and he lowers the needle to their skin again. It pierces through, and Raphael gasps out, “Stop, Michael, please.” He can see them rebuke themselves, bite down on their own lip. Gabriel pushes closer. His dog snuffles, wet nose pressing against Michael’s elbow. Michael can’t move. He can’t do this if Raphael is begging him not to. He can’t.

Lucifer turns Raphael’s head to him. At first, Michael thinks he means to push their face against his shoulder, like hiding what Michael’s doing will make the pain lessen. Lucifer does pull them down against him, but then he orders, as sure in his command as if he’d never left the Host, “Bite, Raphael.”

And Raphael bites. Lucifer finally does flinch. Michael can see the pain hit him, see him breath through it, and settle, rubbing the back of Raphael’s neck as encouragement. He offers himself up, the bullet for the bleeding soldier, and Raphael can’t beg Michael to stop if their teeth are buried in Lucifer’s shoulder. Lucifer shares a look with him. Michael can’t tell exactly how hard they’re biting, Lucifer’s shirt sleeve is between his skin and their teeth, but Lucifer would probably let them do it even if they were breaking skin. Michael knows that because he would do the exact same thing.

Michael keeps puncturing and knotting and hurting his younger sibling to keep them safe. By the time he’s finally closed the wound, they’re sobbing against Lucifer’s shoulder, and there are damp bitemarks scattered all over his sleeve. None of them seem to have gone too deep. Their nails, on the other hand, have drawn blood. Michael sets the needle aside and smooths his hand over Raphael’s thigh.

“What next, Raphael?” They don’t answer.

“Raph, come on, please. We’re almost through.” It’s Gabriel’s voice that rouses them. They lift themselves off of Lucifer.

“Antibacterial,” they manage. Their voice is wrecked. Gabriel finds the tube of ointment they’re referring to and hands it over. Michael tries to be gentle when he applies it, but they still choke out a sound and more tears stain their cheeks.

“Bandages?” Gabriel asks. Raphael nods. Gabriel takes over as Michael pulls the bloody gloves off his hands. He goes to dump them in the trash. He doesn’t realize Lucifer’s followed him until he hears him rustling in one of the cabinets for the stronger pain medicine. The kind Gabriel sometimes says they should lie about having if the cops ever ask and is only mostly joking. Lucifer’s arm is still bleeding, not much but still there, and Michael sighs and circles around him to the sink. He picks up a (presumably) clean dishrag and wets it. Lucifer doesn’t pay any attention to him, too busy sorting pills, until Michael tries to take hold of his arm. Lucifer recoils hard enough that he takes a full step back. Michael raises his hands, placating.

Michael’s not someone who Lucifer is comfortable being touched by without warning. And he’s going to have to live with that. Maybe forever. Lucifer gives Michael his arm. He’s still tense, ready to pull away. Michael cleans the blood off the punctures Raphael left behind. His gaze slides up Lucifer’s bared arm. His skin starts to purple before it disappears under his sleeve.

“Take off your shirt,” Michael says. Lucifer’s eyes narrow. “Please.” For once, Lucifer listens. Maybe they’re all too exhausted to fight tonight. Lucifer’s shirt finds home on the floor. Gabriel’s dog pads over and snags it with his teeth. He shakes the shirt back and forth. Lucifer actually smiles at him, prods the dog with his foot as Michael looks him over. He’s a walking bruise. The worst spots have small cuts, too, ones that have stopped bleeding but should probably still have a band-aid over them. It’s a good thing they’ve stockpiled a lot of those. The spots Raphael bit are as bruised as the rest of him and swollen now under the pain of being gnawed on. Lucifer still let them do it.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who got punched in the face.” Lucifer says.

“You got thrown into a wall.”

“Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty.” Gabriel interrupts. His voice sounds a lot steadier than it did before. Still a performance, but one he knows the lines for instead of adlibbing. Lucifer sticks his tongue out at Michael, because he is a child, and Michael absolutely does not do the same back, because he’s the mature one. “These for Raph?” Lucifer nudges one of the tiny piles of pain meds towards Gabriel.

He pushes another towards Michael, and claims the last share himself. Gabriel doesn’t get a pile, but seeing as he got away without being thrown into anything or being stabbed, he probably doesn’t need it. Michael takes his, watches Lucifer swallow his down, and looks back at their younger siblings as Gabriel convinces Raphael to do the same.

Michael is fucking exhausted. He wants nothing more than to curl up on the rug in front of the couch and pass out. Forget the bedroom. It’s too far of a walk.

Instead, he lets out a breath.

“I’ll get you some band-aids,” he tells Lucifer.

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[quietwings-fics]

tiny mutt

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: N/A Fandom: Supernatural Ship: Gen (Ramsey & Fen (OC) Additional Tags: References to Norse Religion & Lore, Hellhounds, Alternate Universe, 3 Sentence Fiction Wordcount: 85 Podfic Length: 00:51 Part 20 of meanwhile, in gabriel's apartment Prompt:

"For the ask game: Fen meets Ramsey ? 🐶🐶"

This one is very small, Ramsey thinks, and she yawns to check that, yes, he could fit inside her mouth with room to spare.

Fen circles her, yipping and yapping, cold nose pressed to the bristly fur on her forelegs like a flea jumping about.

Ramsey’s charmed, maybe protective of such a tiny mutt, until the dog bows in front of her like he wants to play, and she sees for a flickering second that he casts a shadow far larger than even her own.

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[civilians-of-nothingtown]

12 for all of them???

12. What have you found to be most difficult about creating art for your OC (any form of art: writing, drawing, edits, etc.)? 

Tyler - drawing his flannels

Elias - sometimes writing him is difficult because i really have to be in like. a specific mood. to write for him

Ross - getting his dynamic with the crew right

Salem - N/A

SR700 - im shit at drawing robotic parts lmao

Rose - drawing her wings every damn time

Zek - N/A

Rogue - his robotic arm. the Struggle

Adonis - all i ever want to draw is porn of him which is. Bad. Because he's more than that but.

Anxietatem - writing for him is hard because i don't have extreme paranoia so i try to make it as realistic as possible

Jakkal - N/A

Thorn - how to write loving relationship? between a demon and a werewolf?

Alex - getting his vibe right is. difficult. because. it just is

Max + Tide - ITS GETTING THEIR D*CKS RIGHT WHEN I DRAW THEM

Leo - like Elias i really have to be in a certain mood to write for Leo, and also it's hard to describe the situation going on in his mind from an outside standpoint sometimes

Reese - Reese is practically mute and writing mute characters is a bit difficult since i am not mute

Sasha - similar to Reese (i really have never written for a trans woman, if anyone could give me pointers on Sasha / Reese i would die for u)

Clark - i always forget what hair color she has lmao rip

Karnarka - N/A

Natalia - gotta try real hard to not make her a slutty Morticia Addams

Virgil - tbh writing him makes me feel dirty because like. he's one of my fave characters but he truly is like. a fairytale villain

Vaz + Gabriel - their dynamic is like. difficult. its almost like Crowley and Aziraphale but um. sluttier and a bit meaner (in good spirits)

Tenki + Lena + Kaskae + Fen - N/A, writing werewolves is easy for me heehee

Andreas - sometimes i forget he's a hot head (HAHA) that basically destroys everything so

Enid - i can't make her an avian Hermione i can't make her an avian Hermione i can't make her an avian Hermione i can't make her an avi

Njord - N/A

Ari + Nikolas - i gotta try rlly hard not to like. fuck up their hair when i draw them

Project 56 - okay he is legitimately hard to write because of the mental damage he's had, it took a lot of research about unsavory torture methods from war to hone my knowledge on how he acts

Kaz - i wanna make sure im not making him too like. americanized. because he IS japanese

Ky - siren? what do?

Tex - I ALWAYS FORGET HIS BONER GARAGE TATTOO

Rak - *projects myself onto him, which, inherently, is bad*

All my alien species - THE DIFFICULTY IS WRITING THEM SO THEIR WORLD ISN'T SUPER CONFUSING also rin is baby

Extended point on Rin - they're difficult to write because of their trust issues. like. i have trust issues but not as bad as they do.