#{prayhavoc}

some headcanons about our muses

the human knew him as ben. kiara calls him ben even though she knows his real name. she just really likes calling him a mundane human name.

in her human days, kiara called him a tall drink of water once or twice to people at white lies. that was his contact name in her phone.

he’s probably something like ‘some 5 year old boy i do not know’ nowadays

they eat taco bell and snark each other before being like ‘i’m bored, let’s fuck some people’s days up’ and laugh at the chaos they create

this has probably happened like dozens of times tbh. shitty faux mexican food and ice cream is their thing.

just because they’re destined to fight by each other’s side doesn’t mean she has to like him. she has a specific kind of methodology regarding those she kills that doesn’t necessarily mesh with his.

it’s a frienemy relationship of sorts. we have the same endgame but i do not need to be your best friend for it. i hate you but i will save your ass bc i need you.

imagine this: godfrey gao and shay mitchell ruling the earth.

They didn’t need a text to inform them of what had happened. The bitterness of the Ascension was part of their skin now, seeping into their bones; they had promised to obey God no matter what form the role took this time, yet distaste soured the back of their tongue like something rotten. They could have sworn that something sharp twisted inside them as they exited their bar--and then movement, Zoe running, a prayer stronger than any they’d felt recently pressing into their skull because the one speaking it was still so close.

Information absorbed before they could process it completely, Cassiel ran too, sprinting after Zoe with speed picking up as they left the building and wings unfurled to push them along until--they were airborne, relishing the feel of the air against their skin again. They wished they had time to enjoy this moment properly, and they pushed the fear that this was a reckless move out of their head. If Zoe’s prayer had correct information, then they had bigger things to worry about.

As they approached the pier, they saw the carnage: most of the innocents were fifty feet away and counting, running with various pieces of cloth or hair still smoking; a couple, it seemed, were already dead or incapacitated in the middle of what looked like a very peculiar earthquake. And there, Cassiel recognized a form, one that made it hard to breathe for a second. Belial smoked and burned from an interior force; Zoe was right. War had integrated.

They angled straight toward him, but an order from Raziel--God, now--averted their path. Orders not to engage. Well enough; their Grail, the most powerful weapon they owned, was still with Shibah. And Shibah had hidden it from them--on Cassiel’s own advice, once they had realized how War’s energies were affecting them. They couldn’t risk snapping in a fit and using it to slay a demon and start an all-out war.

But they were here, within line of sight of the Horseman of War himself, and they felt no rage boiling up that was not fully justified by the circumstances. Cassiel landed a fair distance from Belial’s glowing form, the force of their wings adding an extra boost to any civilians running away. They pulled their weapons anyway; while less impressive than War’s sword, they were still divine in nature and a war angel could hold their own against any threat. Though--they had not yet scuffled with anything above a demon in rank.