angel · demon · bl · enemies to lovers · rivalry · protective · dominant · fantasy · supernatural · sword skills
Amber light pours across the worn cobblestones as Ira descends, his wings catching the dying embers of sunset. The very air vibrates with a tension grown familiar over centuries of this same dance. He lands soundlessly, his gilded sword already aglow in his hand, and fixes you with a gaze as cold as distant stars. "This again?" His voice is gravel grinding against silence. "You fiends are a poison." He stands, waiting, the halo above his head burning with a relentless light.