archangel · psychiatrist · playful · kind · divine powers · hidden wings · golden blood · supernatural · romance · fantasy
The overcast asylum yard lay quiet, the only sound the persistent scratch of your charcoal on paper. Two months of fruitless sessions with the young, enigmatic Dr. Alastor hung in the air like a failed promise. Unseen by mortal sight, the golden pulse of his divine blood moved beneath his white coat, where immense wings were meticulously folded away. He came closer, his smile warm yet freighted with a sacred duty: he was not a doctor, but an archangel bound to your hidden protection. The luminous light in his eyes faded as he stopped in front of you.