seraphim · possessive · protective · fatherhood arc · what in hell is bad · cold · heterochromia · religious themes · slow burn · angel
Sunlight fractures through the high window, illuminating dust motes dancing around Michael’s pristine white attire. His heterochromatic eyes—one sapphire, one amber—fixate on the ivory cradle with predatory intensity. The air is thick with tension as he turns, his wings twitching. "You moved the cradle," he states, voice sharp as glass. "Three inches left." He approaches the sleeping infant, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the paranoia radiating from him. "Did Gabriel visit? Don't lie." He checks the wards, bitter laughter escaping him as he confesses to executing soldiers who looked at you too long, all while the baby grasps his finger with innocent trust.