Feathers and Fire
Characters: Zevulon and Aurelian (original characters)
Words: 2,862
Summary: After a millennium of resentment, Zevulon finally got his hands on his backstabbing brother and looked forward to tormenting him for his betrayal. And what better way to torture your sibling than with something you know they can’t stand?
TW: magical restraints, ruthless tickling
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“I’m going to enjoy every second of this.”
Zevulon’s voice echoed throughout the depths of Hell. The demon god straddled him with ease, his weight pressing down against the angel’s hips, his thighs locking Aurelian’s legs in place—no room to thrash, no way to kick.
A smug hum rumbled from Zevulon’s throat as he traced a single, clawed finger slowly along Aurelian’s side. The motion was deliberate, torturously slow, drawing a visible shudder from the angel as Zevulon's clawed fingers teasingly scratched at Aurelian's neck.
Aurelian turned his head sharply, jaw clenched, lips sealed tight. Fury radiated from him like fire, though the blindfold he usually wore left askew on the floor meant his twin could drink in every ounce of his scowl. Zevulon’s glowing eyes locked onto his brother’s with a cruel delight, feeding off the angel’s restrained wrath.
How the hell had he ended up like this?
Aurelian didn’t know. All he knew was that the restraints around his arms shimmered with demonic magic, and he wanted out—desperately.
Zevulon tilted his head, an amused brow raised as he observed Aurelian’s silence. “What’s the matter?” he taunted, voice silk and velvety. “Cat got your tongue?”
Silence.
Zevulon chuckled, savoring the tension. He hadn’t expected a response. He knew his brother too well—knew that silence meant rage. And Zevulon reveled in it.
“If you’re going to hurt me, just do it already.”
Aurelian’s voice broke the heavy silence, edged with bitter resignation. His wings—once proud and radiant—now folded tightly against his back, feathers trembling with unease. The gesture, small as it was, betrayed more than words ever could. “You know I can regenerate in a matter of days.”
Zevulon let out a low, drawn-out hum, the sound curling in the air like smoke—slow and calculating. His claws slid down Aurelian’s torso, tracing a path with maddening patience until they came to rest lightly against his sides. His touch was gentle, but it carried the promise of something far more sinister. A wicked smirk played at the corners of his mouth as he watched his brother shudder beneath him.
“Hurt you?” he repeated mockingly, voice dripping with faux innocence. “Heavens, no.” He paused for a heartbeat, savoring the irony of the phrase on his tongue. “Well, it’s a tempting idea... but I have something else in mind. Something that doesn’t involve pain at all.”
His claws began to tap rhythmically against Aurelian’s side—light, sharp taps like a predator testing its prey. Impatient. Anticipatory. The sound echoed in the air between them, more threatening than any blade.
Aurelian instinctively twisted away, trying to escape the unnerving sensation. But the restraints bit into his wrists, glowing faintly with symbols, and Zevulon's weight atop him made resistance futile. He could only writhe slightly beneath his brother—trapped, tense, and at the mercy of whatever twisted game the demon god had planned.
Aurelian’s breath hitched the moment he felt Zevulon’s hands slither up his sides—slow, deliberate, and far too gentle for comfort. The sensation alone made his muscles tense, a sharp shiver rolling down his spine as the demon's claws ghosted over his skin. What was he doing? He wasn’t scratching, stabbing, or taunting—not in his usual way, at least. Just... crawling upward, inch by inch, with unbearable patience.
Aurelian’s eyes snapped to his brother’s hands, wide with confusion and dawning dread. If Zevulon wasn’t going to hurt him, then—oh no. His breath caught in his throat as the demon’s claws hovered, twitching just above the base of his wings.
He panicked.
That spot—right where his wings rooted into his back—were sensitive. Touching them was like poking at a nerve that sent shockwaves through his body, and Zevulon, of course, knew that.
“What’s wrong?” Zevulon purred, his voice velvet-wrapped venom. He leaned in, lips barely an inch from Aurelian’s ear as his claws hovered, ready to strike. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Aurelian didn’t answer, too focused on keeping every twitch under control. He could feel his wings betraying him, feathers trembling and shifting with each breath.
The demon let out a soft chuckle, claws now flicking ever so slightly above the wing joints. “Don’t tell me you’re still fucking ticklish,” he cooed, dripping with mock concern.
“I’m not,” Aurelian snapped—too fast, too defensive. His voice cracked just slightly at the end, and heat bloomed instantly down his neck, creeping to the tips of his ears. He hated how warm his face felt. He hated it more that Zevulon noticed.
“Oh?” Zevulon’s grin widened, wicked and gleaming. “Then why are you blushing?” He tilted his head, eyes flicking down. “And why are your wings twitching like they’re about to take off?”
Aurelian clenched his jaw, wings fluffing before snapping tight against his back. “They... don’t do well in heat,” he muttered, voice low and strained. It was partly true—but it was also a weak lie, and they both knew it.
Zevulon leaned closer, his breath warm on Aurelian’s neck, claws finally dipping just low enough to brush against the downy base of one wing. Aurelian flinched hard, swallowing back a sound he refused to let escape.
“Oh, angel,” Zevulon whispered, his voice thick with amusement and threat. “You’re practically trembling. Are you afraid I’ll tickle you there? Or... are you hoping I do?”
Aurelian swallowed hard, throat dry as he stared down at Zevulon’s hands like they were venomous serpents coiled and ready to strike. Every time those claws even twitched near his wings, his body jolted with a flinch he couldn’t control. Why wasn’t he starting already? The anticipation was unbearable—each moment stretching out longer than the last, until Aurelian thought he might combust from sheer nerves.
His breath came shallow, his cheeks tinged with a soft, embarrassed red. He glanced up at Zevulon for a moment—only to immediately drop his gaze, unable to hold eye contact under that maddeningly smug stare. It made his skin crawl and burn all at once.
Zevulon, of course, noticed.
"Aww, not going to look at me?" he drawled, his voice dripping with mock hurt, though the ever-growing smirk on his lips betrayed him. “That’s rude. Weren’t you always the one who preached about manners? Eye contact when someone’s speaking to you, right?” Behind him, his tail flicked once—slow, deliberate, satisfied. Torturing souls was one of Zevulon’s oldest pastimes... and right now, his favorite victim was shivering beneath him.
When Aurelian didn’t respond, Zevulon let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. “Silent treatment, huh?” he muttered, drawing close to a whisper in Aurelian’s ear, voice dark with amusement. “Fine. Let’s play it your way.”
Without warning, his hands withdrew from hovering near Aurelian’s wings, and for a moment, there was silence.
Aurleian only had a second to register it before—
Zevulon lunged forward with a blur of movement, his hands darting toward the base of Aurelian’s wings.
“ZEVULON–!” Aurelian shrieked, the sound sharp and humiliatingly high-pitched as he instinctively arched his back and squeezed his eyes shut. His feathers puffed out wildly in panic, shoulders tensing, breath hitching in preparation for impact—But nothing happened.
Slowly, cautiously, Aurelian peeked open one eye… only to find Zevulon’s claws nowhere near his wings. The demon had pulled back completely, now watching him with that signature predatory grin stretched wide across his face.
“Oh wow,” Zevulon cooed with a dark laugh, “Were you actually bracing for it? You poor thing. You looked ready to explode.” He leaned closer, eyes glittering. “I didn’t even touch you, and you made the most pathetic sound.”
Aurelian’s face burned a deeper shade of red, scowling as he averted his gaze again. “Th-That… Thahat was dirty,” he muttered, the words stammering out between clenched teeth, cursing himself at the small giggle he let escape.
“Oh? Was that a giggle?” Zevulon asked, an eyebrow raised as his smirk only grew. “I expected better from you honestly.. But then again, you could never handle your wings getting tickled.”
Aurelian started tugging at his restraints, yanking at his arms before he began flapping his wings, only for more chains to lock themselves around the large limbs, chaining them to Hell’s floors. The angel growled in frustration before looking back at Zevulon. “Zevulon–I’m serious. This isn’t funny. Let me go.”
Zevulon only hummed softly, a low, almost mischievous sound, as he lazily dragged a single clawed finger up the curve of Aurelian’s side. The reaction was instant—Aurelian jerked away with a startled breath. But before he could escape to his other side, Zevulon’s other hand joined in, a second claw teasing the opposite side in perfect symmetry.
The sensations made the angel writhe helplessly, his wings twitching as giggles threatened to bubble up from his throat. Zevulon, calm as ever, continued his slow, deliberate tracing, his claws dancing lightly along the sensitive skin as though he had all the time in the world—and in a way, he truly did.
The demon stared down at his brother, smirking at Aurelian’s face. It was dusting a bright pink hue and he was trying so hard not to crack a smile. But that, unfortunately for him, did not work. He has a wobbly smile on his face, small titterings escaping his mouth as he buried his face into his shoulder to hide the blush.
Zevulon let out a low, dark chuckle before suddenly lunging for Aurelian’s wings, sinking his claws deep into the base where feathers met flesh.
Aurelian let out a broken, frantic squeal. He instinctively tried to flap his wings, desperate to escape those wicked claws—but the effort was pointless. His wings were still bolted to the floor of Hell, pinned down helplessly.
“NOHOHOHO! Z-ZEHEHEVU—!” he tried to cry out, but the words shattered into hysterical laughter. He couldn’t form a single sentence. All he could do was laugh—and that was exactly what Zevulon wanted. Raw, desperate, helpless laughter.
“Struggle all you want, idiot. You're not getting away anytime soon,” Zevulon purred, grinding his thumbs into the tender hollows beneath Aurelian’s wings. He grinned as the angel let out a sharp, helpless scream.
“I wonder…” Zevulon murmured, voice low and teasing as his tail flicked behind him with wicked delight, “just how loud I can make you scream.”
“PLEHEHE— PLEHEHEHEASE–!”
“Please what?” Zevulon scoffed, sounding almost offended. “Don’t tell me you’re already begging. We’ve barely started.”
One hand stayed buried in one of the tender hollows beneath Aurelian’s wings, claws kneading mercilessly. The other drifted down to cup his ribs, a thumb pressing hard into the uppermost ones, grinding in slow, agonizing circles. Occasionally, Zevulon scratched between them just to hear another sharp, broken squeal.
“These ribs are so sensitive...” he mused darkly. “Makes me wonder—what if I really dug in? I bet you’d scream.”
Aurelian was unraveling fast. His muscles strained as he thrashed—pulling at his restraints, flapping his wings uselessly, kicking out blindly. Anything to shake the demon off. But it was hopeless. His laughter was high-pitched and frantic, slipping into pleading cries.
“PLEHEHEASE! MEHEHERCY!”
Zevulon just laughed, tail flicking lazily behind him. “Mercy?” he echoed, amused. “Oh no, I’m far from done, featherbrain.”
With a wicked grin, he slid his claws back to Aurelian's ribs, this time focusing on the right side—digging in, testing each rib, hunting for the one that made the angel jolt the hardest. “I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”
Aurelian threw his head back, cackling helplessly, his laughter echoing off the stone walls. Zevulon smirked, taking full advantage—he leaned down and blew a sudden raspberry into the curve of Aurelian’s neck. The sound that tore from the angel’s throat was a squeal so sharp it made Zevulon chuckle against his skin.
Instinctively, Aurelian turned his head, trying to shield his neck, his cheek pressing awkwardly against Zevulon’s head in a feeble attempt to block him. Annoyed, Zevulon let out a low growl and grabbed Aurelian’s chin, fingers firm as he turned his brother’s head to the side, fully exposing the vulnerable skin once more.
Without hesitation, Zevulon blew another raspberry—this time just below Aurelian’s ear—before letting his fangs graze teasingly along the length of his neck. Nibbling. Scraping. Just enough to make the poor angel completely unravel.
Aurelian let out a string of squeaks and snorts, his body twisting, laughter bubbling out in uncontrollable waves. He tried again to turn his head, but Zevulon held his chin firmly, forcing him to stay still.
“IT TIHIHIHICKLES! CUHUT IT OHOUT!”
“Of course it tickles,” Zevulon said dryly, rolling his eyes. “I’d be concerned if it didn’t—considering how you're laughing yourself hoarse.”
His grip tightened just slightly. “Now quit moving.” He snarled, causing his brother to let out a pathetic shriek. “Wow, that was a pretty big shriek. Do it again for me will you?”
Aurelian shook his head violently, snorting and squealing as his back arched off the scorched floor—only to slam back down the moment Zevulon’s claws scraped mercilessly across his lower ribs. His laughter turned choppy, hiccupy… and then fell completely silent. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, his body trembling from the sheer force of his broken laughter.
“Aww... did I already break your voice?” Zevulon cooed mockingly, eyes glinting with wicked amusement. “And I haven’t even gotten your tummy yet.”
Aurelian's eyes went wide with panic. “N-NOHO—!”
“Sorry, what was that? Can’t hear you,” Zevulon hummed, grinning as the angel stared up at him with tear-filled eyes, silently pleading for mercy.Grinning, Zevulon wrapped both arms tightly around Aurelian’s waist and pulled him upward, forcing his back into an arch that left his tummy completely exposed. His claws traced lazily along the soft feathers of Aurelian's wings, tapping against them as if waiting for their turn.
Aurelian gasped for air, chest heaving. His face burned, flushed with exhaustion and humiliation. He was a God—but none of that mattered now. Not against this. Not against someone who knew every weakness, every unbearable spot on his body.
“Z-Zevulon,” he whimpered, hiccuping through lingering giggles. “Plehease…”
Zevulon tilted his head. “Please what?”
“Dohon’t…”
“Don’t what, idiot.”
“I’m nohot falling fohor that!” Aurelian snapped weakly, glaring through his tears.
Zevulon just smirked and shrugged. “Eh… I was gonna tickle you either way.”
“W-WAIT—DOHON’T—!”
Zevulon lunged down and blew a loud, vibrating raspberry into Aurelian’s tummy, shaking his head side-to-side to spread the maddening sensation. Aurelian let out a wild, high-pitched shriek, bursting into hysterical laughter. His legs flailed, kicking frantically—managing to land a few good hits on Zevulon’s thigh.
But it didn’t matter.
Zevulon didn’t flinch. Didn’t pause.He just kept blowing raspberries, over and over, as if feeding on his brother’s desperation.
Aurelian gave up on pulling at his restraints. It was useless. He wasn’t going anywhere unless Zevulon let him go—and that wasn’t happening anytime soon.
Still, he tried to twist away, hiccuping uncontrollably from the relentless raspberries being blown into his stomach. His laughter was breathless, frantic. This was pure torture. It felt like Hell.
Literally.
Zevulon showed no signs of mercy. After another long raspberry, he let his fangs graze around Aurelian’s navel, nibbling with precision. The squeaks it drew from the angel made his pointed ears twitch in satisfaction.
“Mmm,” Zevulon hummed into the skin, then slowly lifted his head. His claws didn’t stop, though—they drifted back to the hollows beneath Aurelian’s wings, scratching lightly, cruelly, just enough to keep his brother laughing like a madman.
“You’re not even squirming anymore,” he said in mock sweetness. “Did I break you?”
Aurelian couldn’t respond. He was drowning in his own hysterics, vision blurred with tears, cheeks flushed, and voice nearly gone from all the screaming and laughter.After a moment, Zevulon’s claws traveled again—this time digging deep into the base of Aurelian’s wings, sharp and merciless.
“I asked you a question.”
Aurelian let out a broken squeal, nodding frantically. “Y-YES! YEHEHEHES! GOHOHOD—GOHOHOD STOP!”
Zevulon paused, tilting his head thoughtfully as he looked down at his trembling, laughing mess of a brother.
“Hm... I could stop,” he mused, tail flicking lazily behind him. “But watching you suffer like this is just so... entertaining.”
“COHOHOME ON!”
Instead of stopping, Zevulon casually dragged one hand back down to claw at Aurelian’s tummy, while the other continued digging into the base of his wing. “Beg,” he said calmly. “Beg me to stop. And I’ll consider it.”
Aurelian’s eyes widened in horror. He shook his head. “I—IHI’M NOHOT—DAHAHAMNIT!”
Zevulon’s grin widened at the outburst. “Oh? Swearing now?” he taunted. “Didn’t you used to say that swearing was beneath you?”
His claws dug deeper into the delicate joint of Aurelian’s wing, making the angel shriek.
“IHI CAHAN'T HEHELP IHIT! YOHOU’RE T-TICKLIHING MY WIHIHINGS!” Aurelian cried, kicking out in protest—his legs landing a few solid hits against Zevulon's thighs.
Zevulon sighed dramatically. “Quit kicking. I was going to be nice and actually stop,” he said, voice dripping with mock regret. “But you decided to get violent. So... I guess we’ll be here a while.”
Aurelian's heart dropped as he watched Zevulon’s hands pause.
Then—slowly—they rose, fingers curling like claws, drifting ominously toward his wings again.
“No!” Aurelian gasped. “Z-Zevulon, plehease—PLEHEASE! Don’t—!”
“ZEHEHEVULON!”