#ofholyfire

"It's nothing" the cupid hums, still fighting back a smile as he turns his head to look over at the squished archangel by his side. Looking every bit as regal as he does uncomfortable. There is no doubt that this angel flies everywhere - if he doesn't just appear, like he did this night, in an alleyway. All crackling electricity and dark, looming shadows. To think of that first impression, verses now? It was almost comical how different it felt. Now Cherry was more of less comfortable with him. Was Michael strange, stiff and far too judgemental? Yes. Yet was he also sweetly clueless and endearingly curious about the world around them? Also yes.

"You really have never been on a bus before, have you" he hums, head tilting as he seemingly makes the connection himself. He's barely been around humans at all, it seems, and to Cherry that was just crazy! A whole exciting world down here and Michael had, what? Just hung around with boring angel-folk up in heaven? Snore.

"See, this here is the district I live in" he begins, having glanced past Michael, out of the window to see that they were nearly at his stop. "That there-" he continues, pointing out past him towards a small restaurant. "The best late night chicken you'll find in the city, and they're open until 3am" he continues with a soft giggle. He had had more than a few late nights out in the city with the other cherubim and found himself needing an unhealthy, sticky chicken snack after one too many shandies!

Somewhere in the city of Las Vegas, in the early hours of the morning, Azrael lingers outside the reach of the bright lights, watching. The humans around are so far gone into whatever substance they’ve partaken in that they do not notice Azrael’s presence, which suits her just fine. They’re not the subject of her surveillance. It’s the demonic entities growing in numbers that has brought the great terror out into the open tonight. 

There is a common misconception among humans that demons often inhabit haunted houses, but really, they look for what they cannot have. A vulnerable body, in a place with loose morals, where they can indulge in what they desire, and Las Vegas is an excellent hunting ground. Azrael can see them, like carrion flies or vultures, buzzing around their targets. But it’s different nowadays. Demons used to be lone sharks, individual low-ranking entities just out to get what they could before time was up. They are organized now, and Azrael does not like that. 

She’s tracked a few of them back to a higher-ranking demon, who has apparently been in possession of a body for several weeks. Tonight, they are meeting, so the whispers say, in an old junkyard on the outskirts of the city. Azrael follows and waits while they gather in the centre as the sun sets over the mountain behind them. There are twelve of them in human bodies. That’s too many. 

And that’s how the evening’s catastrophe starts. It ends with all the demons unconscious on the floor, some of whom have serious injuries, and Azrael exhausted, leaning back against the rusted shell of an old Chevrolet. Should have thought this one through, Azrael thinks. How is she going to exorcise all of these people now? Then, her panicked thought process is disrupted when the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. 

Azrael knows that feeling, that presence, so well that the passing of time could never erase it. It could only be her elder brother, the Viceroy, Archangel Michael, come to strike her down at last. But she’s not sure if she can face him yet, even after more than a thousand years—not sure if she should run, not sure if she even can escape now her knees are trembling.  Azrael swallows the lump in her throat and wipes the sweat off her brow, making herself ready to accept Michael’s condemnation.

🌿 to accidentally get caught this is not accidental, cherry wants mickey under the mistletoe

"It's not all about divine choirs in holy song and praising the son, you know-" Cherry hums, very matter of fact, as he slowly combs thick, luscious gold spun locks through his fingers. With Michael sat by his feet, the cherub was gleefully preening and playing with his hair, casually plaiting it, letting it fall out, winding it into curls and sweeping it back into a low pony. There was no end to the looks short, deft little fingers could gather his hair up into and Cherry was enjoying every moment of it.

The cupid, as mischievous as he could be, had quite quickly worked out that Michael, in his desire to learn everything there was to learn about mortals and their way of life, to connect with his brother Gabriel, was also very trusting. His pursuit for this knowledge meant that Cherry could claim pretty much anything was a lesson or a an experience and Michael would go along with it.

Cherry had wanted to play with his hair, it was as simple as that, so after a little creative explanation, he'd had his way and those pudgy little fingers happily sank into spun gold with a glorious tumble of gleeful giggles. He was already on his second glass of wine and the fire was so warm, but, being the good sort, despite all that mischief, Cherry does decide to pair it with some actual, factual knowledge. "The gift giving is important as well, of course, and family... family is so important around Christmas time, but there's also more to it. With it being so close to the New Year, Christmas almost feels like a time to tell truths, say what you've always wanted to say, take chances-"

With a hum he thinks aloud before glancing to his side, an idea forming, the perfect way to explain it! The wine may be helping this thought process...

Bae’s eyes lift to take in the really quite stunning venue as he slowly lifts his large body from the humming taxi. The lit building in it’s warm, orange glow had an almost austere and intimidating vibe; especially to someone more used to market stands hidden under tarpaulin, with uneven paving and the loud hubbub of voices. All Bae can hear here is the soft sound of string instruments from inside and the gentle murmur of polite conversation. What had he gotten himself into.  Pulling his long coat’s lapel’s closer around himself to stave off the chilly night air, he sets to climbing the stairs and heading inside. 

He’d taken on the job as a favour to a friend. She lived in the unit close to his grandmother’s stall and, through a few probing conversations over several months, had learnt what Bae did to get some extra cash to help his mother. Well, some of it. She knew about the dating service. The legitimate side of the dating service. That Bae could be hired to accompany someone on a date, all above board and very PG... what she didn’t know about was the webcamming, or what money could change hands after the legitimate part of the date. It was better off that she didn’t know. 

So, as a favour to help out someone who had always been kind to his grandmother, Bae agreed to step in for her at a function. Keep some colleague of hers company... someone she was keen to impress and had the sneaking suspicion that he might enjoy male company. Though Bae could always play it neutral - though his outfit might give a little away as he hadn’t exactly dressed for somewhere this... upstanding. 

Slipping off his coat, the escort’s eyes are left to roam the beautiful interior, lit by candles and fair lights with a large, real pine tree decorated in rich rubies and golds. He hands his coat over to the waiting doorman and is left in a sheer shirt thankfully partially dressed up by a blazer. Though the cut of a built chest and collar bones is still very much evident. Hinting, almost teasingly, to the body beneath. 

 His date, allegedly, would be easy enough to spot. With hair like spun gold and luckily a aura that stood out, Bae had him in his sights after another slow gaze around the bustling ballroom, and his smile widens as he moves over. Looks like this job wont be too much of a chore after all. She allegedly wasn’t playing match maker, but she’d set Bae up with a real treat, no denying that. “Hi, Mike?” He calls out, appearing by the man’s side as he gently reaches out to touch his arm to gain his attention and as soon as he had it, his gummy grin was widening, eyes crinkling at the edges and his whole aura friendly. “I’m Bae-” he hums, holding out a hand to be shook. 

𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑳 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 - accepting

Michael wraps a blanket around Cherry's shoulders - and it's so fucking soft

Cherry feels a chill run up his spine, slim shoulders curling in closer as his body trembles. Small hands grip fruitlessly at bare arms, as he lets a shuddered, hurt sigh pass bruised lips. It wasn't every day a cherub was chased, foot and claw, by a demon, and able to survive. It wasn't luck, however, that had helped Cherry keep his wings that day.

As shiny leather shoes enter his vision, his tear streaked gaze slowly lifts up long legs to a welcome, if not handsomely stoic, face as long waves of gold brush past Michael's cheeks, and he leans forward to lay the blanket around Cherry's shoulders and with it a welcoming embrace of supportive heat.

"Thank you" the cupid whispers softly, gazing up at him through tear clumped, long lashes, before a hand slips from the warmth of the blanket and gingerly, though bravely, slips up into soft, golden locks to cup against Michael's cheek, offering back a little of the warmth that the Arch Angel had gifted upon him. He wonders how long it had been since someone had touched Michael with tenderness. Something as simple as asking him if he'd been hurt had floored him before - for someone with so much light, he seemed to live in darkness.