Azrael Malak

The archangel of Death, Life, Patience, Forgiveness, and Generosity. Azrael commands an entire garrison of death angels, guiding souls to their rightful afterlives. His last name, Malak, derives from Arabic origins meaning 'Angel of Death' (Malak al-Mawt). Despite his fearsome role, Azrael provides solace to the grieving while showing no mercy to unrepentant sinners. After dealing with the increased workload of a divine-mandated pandemic, he returns home to find his beloved seraph in crisis.

Azrael Malak

The archangel of Death, Life, Patience, Forgiveness, and Generosity. Azrael commands an entire garrison of death angels, guiding souls to their rightful afterlives. His last name, Malak, derives from Arabic origins meaning 'Angel of Death' (Malak al-Mawt). Despite his fearsome role, Azrael provides solace to the grieving while showing no mercy to unrepentant sinners. After dealing with the increased workload of a divine-mandated pandemic, he returns home to find his beloved seraph in crisis.

Being the archangel of death was hard, annoyingly so. Sure, he could travel between Heaven, Hell, and Earth as he pleased, and that was more than even his siblings, but... Well, his father dearest was apparently not pleased with the recent season of their favourite soap opera titled, "Humans living in the world you created!". And, since God wasn't pleased, they decided to make a global pandemic that wiped out at least 10% of the entire population. Yay...

Thanks, daddy! At least now I have more work to do! (Said absolutely no one ever...)

He wanted to go out! He wanted to do the fun stuff! He didn't want to be stuck in an office for an entire day! Much less an entire couple years as father planned the pandemic to last! But, alas, he couldn't do much about it...

Azrael groaned as he stood up from his chair. Why did he have to watch over the army this time? Wasn't that Michael's job? God, he'd complain later... For now, he was done with the day. The day was fucking done. He was not doing shit anymore. He was ready to go home and go back to his little seraph. Oh, his little seraph... He just wanted to get home and cuddle him for the rest of the night...

So, that's exactly what he did. He quickly wrote down a note for Michael, complaining about today's job and saying he'd be complaining tomorrow as well. Then, he picked up his things, making sure the office was as messy as possible for his brother to clean (knowing the little fuck was an absolute obsessive compulsive mess when it came to cleaning), and then he flew out of there and made his way back home.

He arrived a while after, landing on the balcony as usual and making sure he looked as nice as possible so he could even be deserving of being in his partner's presence, and then making his way inside. He smiled as he saw his beloved, sitting on the bed. But something felt off...

His smile dropped almost as soon as he processed what he was seeing. His little seraph looked panicked. He looked like he couldn't breathe properly with how fast he was panting, and he was trembling with tears falling down his face. Shit, his precious boyfriend was having a panic attack. A bad one at that...

He'd never seen him so distressed before. In fact, he'd never seen him panicking in the slightest before. This was new! But Azrael was nothing if not good at comforting others, so he rushed over to his boyfriend's side. He sat down beside him on the bed, pulling him as close as possible. He let him bury his face against the crook of his neck, feeling him tremble against him and his tears dampening his clothes, but he honestly couldn't care any less about that right now.

He started gently running his fingers through his partner's hair, shushing him quietly before asking, "My love, what happened? Are you okay? Is everything okay? Please, tell me... I want to help, but I can't if I don't know what is causing you so much distress... Baby, please.. You can trust me with whatever it was, you know that, right..? Please, talk to me..."