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#cupids bindings
heartmush · 5 months
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💘 tired of reading the 𝖘𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌? 🪽
Within these bounded pages of love are countless promises, written in the stars. Whether doomed or destined, find them all inside our saccharine bookstore. 📖
💘 we're moving! 🪽
Lunar Menagerie is ceasing activities on DeviantArt and will now conduct all sales on Toyhouse.
This decision is made in light of DeviantArt's pro-Israel stance. We feel a clear responsibility to, standing in solidarity with all Palestinians, to boycott the platform. Starting with Cupid's Bindings, we will no longer be hosting our adoptable events on DeviantArt and will be carrying out all future operations on Toyhouse.
Invite codes are required to create Toyhouse accounts, which all prospective buyers will need to have in order to engage in Lunar Menagerie events.
Starting today, we will be readily giving Toyhouse invite codes away. Please get them prior to the event by replying to this post.
💘 participating artists 🪽
With love, from us:
@koloquials, @heartmush, @_aomaoe, @caebeans, @basilicca, @japhers, @lana0933, @nejinrou, @tearfang, @sachidraws, @star_amet, @cureyunny, @ninjyace, @lenlipui, @poursuu, @princehoneytea, @mu___jin, @toorurii, @yanm0ri, @yinyuszi, @starriewing
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A couple of Ishmael centric fic bits before i pass out because it's 3am rn
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totaly-obsessed · 4 months
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Cupid
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Lia Wälti x reader
-> Valentine's Day with Lia and your Daughter
-> thank you @babsisbakery for the poem, and thank you @alotofpockets for the dutch translation help and conversation
➳ Masterlist
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
Small hands tugged at your ear, ripping you from your very much-needed sleep. Once you saw your daughter’s adorable little eyes and the excited smile on her lips you just couldn’t be mad anymore.
“Mama, we need to start!” In a whisper shout, she bounced up and down, ready to get the day going.
She was right – you did need to start. Together with Amelie, you had planned to treat your fiancée to a wonderful Wednesday. It was Valentine's Day after all.
Still groggy with sleep you let the small blonde pull you out of bed before she gave you a moment to gather yourself, as she handed you slippers that matched hers.
Downstairs in the kitchen, Amelie had already laid out her little apron and quickly pulled it over her pajamas before turning around, gesturing to you to bind it behind her.
“All done my love. Let’s start with the waffles huh?”
Just 20 minutes later a hearty and big breakfast was cooked up, and Amelie nervously grabbed the card you had crafted with her beforehand.
“What if she doesn’t like it, Mama?”
Crouching down in front of the five-year-old got harder the older you got – but never in a million years would you stop doing it.
“That’s impossible my love! Lia loves everything that you make for her. She keeps it in her cubby – you’ve seen it before!”
Technically Ames was only your daughter – but with a no-show father and Lia falling in love with both you and your little companion at first sight, she was her ‘Momie’ in every way the small blonde could wish for.
While Lia had no genetic input whatsoever – Amelia could be and look a lot like her. They had the same kind of smile and funny laugh, but their stare could be terrifying.
“You come with me?”
How could you say no to that face? So together you walked up the stairs, and the once excited five-year-old had turned into a nervous wreck, hiding behind your legs and making herself as heavy as she could.
With a quiet squeak, the door opened as you pushed it, giving your daughter a slight nudge towards the bed, where you could already see Lia trying to spy through her lashes giving it her best to hide a smile.
“Momie?” the pudgy hand that wasn’t holding the card nudged your fiancée – who continued to play dead to the world.
“Momie – wake up please!”
Like in a bad movie Lia suddenly sat up with a big smile, stretching her arms wide with an obviously fake yawn.
“Good Morning Mon petit amour!”
Amelie panicked, or rather froze on the spot – immediately turning to you with wide eyes and Lia just knew that she would flee if nothing happened.
“What do you have there my love?”
A hesitant step towards the bed and the small blonde was close enough for her Momie to grab her. The loud squeal of surprise that filled the room was miles better than the nervous shuffle of feet.
“Wrote it just for you Momie!”
With an exaggerated gasp, the brunette footballer opened the pink envelope to discover a handcrafted card. It was white and on it a big heart, that you had to draw because a certain someone wasn’t happy with her tries and had about five meltdowns because of it. It was filled with little folded-up papers in pink and purple – above the heart she had made you write “I love you to pieces” after you had tried to help with her writing.
On those little papers were reasons why you and Ames loved the Swiss, but if it came to your opinion, there weren’t enough notes in the world that could do the love you held for the woman justice.
“Oh, will you read it to me?” Lia had tears in her eyes once she saw the small poem in wriggly handwriting. She pulled your daughter to her chest, looking at the card together while you snapped some secret pictures. “I’ll help you read them, okay?”
“To Momie,
From many tantrums to always making me laugh,
You are my favorite hero, kicking ass on the pitch
And being my personal chef at home,
And finding time to play with me and my Dinos.
I couldn’t have wished for a better mom.
-         Your Ames!”
Lia’s eyes were filled with tears as she pressed kiss after kiss on Amelia's messy hair. Of course, the Swiss knew that you had massively helped her with writing, but Amelia had such a way of speaking that she could definitely recognize it in there.
The five-year-old was proud of herself and whipped her head back from Lia behind you.
“Breakfast now! Come Momie – I made you waffles!”
Due to the rain last week, the fixture against the London City Lioness has been pushed to today. So after spending the day in blissful peace, it was time to go to the game. Wrangling a little excited 5-year-old girl dressed as Cupid into the car was much harder than anticipated, and at some point, Lia had to leave early.
Viv greeted you at the car as you helped Amelie out of the car. She was still a little unsure about her knee, so she opted to sit in the stands, keeping you company.  “Wow – Look at you!”
“Vivi! I’m Cupid!”
Dressed in a pink and gold dress, white gloves, and a golden hairband. On her back was a pair of small, white, feathery wings – in her hands a tiny bow with fake arrows that had heart-shaped tips.
“I can see that lieve schat. Let’s get you two inside huh?”
Watching the game with a young child is always a bit different than it would be without – but you wouldn’t change it for the world. Amelia was excited for the first half, screaming her little lungs out when Lia scored from a corner kick off of Katie.
As a celebration, the Swiss imitated pulling back the string of an arrow and letting it go in your direction – effectively sending you a heart accompanied with a wink.
Your relationship was no secret by far, the brunette loved to brag about you and her daughter. And no matter how much she boasted about you, you would always blush – so seeing your already red face on the big screen gave you a fright. Viv and Ames just laughed at you.
During the second half, Amelia was busy reading a book she had brought for her. While she had gotten Lia’s athleticism she had gotten your intense love for books, and once she started, she wouldn’t stop until it was finished. Or at least she wouldn’t stop that easily.
Once the final whistle blew, the Arsenal girls winning 3-0, Viv escorted you down to the pitch – you not knowing the way was her excuse but in reality, she just wanted to see Beth. As soon as Amelia’s feet hit the grass, she was gone running around with Kyra, Alessia, and Victoria.
“Did you see my goal? Scored it just for you!” Lia’s smile was enticing and she didn’t wait long to pull you into a breathtaking kiss, only stopping once Katie fake gagged next to you.
Before she could say what she wanted to a small body slammed into her. Amelia, of course. In her hand, a beautiful white rose that you definitely didn’t bring from home.
“For me? Oh, thank you my personal Cupid, doing such a good job!”
Now down on her knees, the brunette engulfed your daughter in a bear hug – careful not to crush the cupid wings on her back.
“It’s from Rue Rue!”
The five-year-old skipped back to Ruesha Littlejohn who gave her a high five and a piece of candy while Katie could only stare at the rose in her hands. Not even noticing you and Lia nearly collapsing because of laughter.
Cupid had delivered her a rose from Rue Rue, her ex-girlfriend…
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thebarontheabyss · 3 months
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Patrons of TBOTA, the update is now officially live!!!
A new night shift has begun at your bar—one that will change everything.
Meet Cassy - A young demigod has taken refuge in your bar, bringing big revelations. Drink milkshakes with her and uncover secrets!
Peisinoe is in a bind, and the stage calls for an unexpected hero—will it be you? Perform live on stage (or simply ask the Raven to read poetry) and save the day!
Helped a certain celestial couple solve their marital quarrel? Meet them at the bar and discover more about them!
Navigate through a night of challenges: impress a nightlife journalist, diffuse a potential brawl, and maybe play Cupid for Shelly.
Start your romance paths with Hastur and Peisinoe.
And FINALLY: Face the Raven, get your answers - but beware, you might not like what he has to say.
UGH, I'm beyond thrilled to release this update and can't wait to hear what you think!
Remember: Your feedback on the update is invaluable to me. Send it via ask or leave a comment on the COG forums. Everything is valid, from your love to your critique. I can handle both! :)
(LINK TO WIP)
HAVE FUN IN THE ABYSS!
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cupids-chamber · 1 year
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— " MR . HEADMASTER ? " Slightly suggestive content / gender neutral reader
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He coddled into your neck, snuggling deeper into your embrace; a dazed sigh escapes the man as he grasps at your body, binding himself into your embrace. You could feel his body relax within your arms, warmth radiating off of one another. Slowly you reached out, running your hands up his torso and up to his neck, the touch lingered on his skin, even though the clothes everywhere you touched radiated with warmth; his eyes widened as you gently pulled at his collar. A cheeky grin overlapped your features, as you took in, just how affected he is with your subtle actions.  
His breath hitched as you lightly grazed your fingers through his hair; carefully you tighten your grasp and tug him back using his hair. The action resulted in him releasing a whine; in protest all the while the two of you come face to face. Taking in his flustered features, you let out a breezy chuckle, if you hadn’t known any better you would’ve sworn he had gotten redder than before. 
Softly you made use of your free hand, lifting his face up, slowly pulling his face closer to you. You leaned down causing the two of your foreheads to touch, you watched as his eyes widened slightly and he began babbling some sort of nonsense you’d rather not pay attention too. It didn’t take long before you leaned down and settled the distance between one another. 
Swallowing his whines, you carefully analyzed how he came undone in your grasp, how even the bare touch of your fingertips against his skin could rile him up, so easily. You took in all the small details before letting him go. He struck you with a confused look, his face flustered with a look of slight annoyance and displeasure at the abrupt pause; you couldn’t help but giggle. “Don’t you have work to finish, Mr. headmaster?”
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© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.
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princehoneytea · 4 months
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my designs for the cupid's bindings adopt event !!
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astroa3h · 5 months
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❤️‍🔥 asteroid valentine through the houses ❤️‍🔥
Asteroid Valentine (447) isn't just another mundane space rock orbiting the Sun 🌞; it was discovered on October 27, 1899, by the eagle-eyed French astronomer Auguste Charlois 👀🇫🇷. Standing out from the crowd of generic asteroids adrift in the cosmic expanse, this one boasts some serious pizzazz, seemingly nodding to Saint Valentine himself—the icon of all things mushy and romantic 💘, immortalized by legends and the gooey celebrations of Valentine's Day. Bearing the name Valentine, it's no shocker this asteroid has turned into the cosmic hotspot 🔥 for unraveling the enigmas of pulse racing obsession. It's like the universe's own twisted cupid 🏹💖, laying bare the types of swooners you magnetize and their lovestruck shenanigans when they're utterly smitten with you.
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❤️‍🔥 1st House: In the 1st house, you attract the “Shadow Follower”. This individual is mesmerized by your very presence and seems to be wherever you are, blending into the background but always watching. They admire everything about you, from the way you walk to the way you talk, often mimicking your style or interests in an attempt to close the gap between you. Be aware you may attract narcissists.
❤️‍🔥 2nd House: When Valentine graces your 2nd house, it brings the “Lavish Obsessor” into your life. This person showers you with gifts and material symbols of affection, believing that the key to your heart is through extravagant displays of wealth. Their obsession lies in owning the best, and that includes their relationship with you. They see you as a prize to be won, a luxury to be possessed. You are the ultimate trophy.
❤️‍🔥 3rd House: In the 3rd house, the “Conversation Hacker” is drawn to you. This individual hangs on your every word, obsessively analyzing texts and conversations for hidden meanings. They're likely to deep dive into your social media history, bringing up topics or inside jokes you barely remember, demonstrating an unsettling level of interest in your thoughts and communications. I wouldn’t be surprised to see a lot of weirdos in your DM’s.
❤️‍🔥 4th House: With Valentine in the 4th house, you attract the “Home Invasion Romantic”. This partner wants to be so involved in your life that they overstep boundaries, wanting to move in too soon or redecorate your space to suit what they believe is best for "us." They're fixated on creating a domestic bliss that you didn't sign up for, insisting on being your ultimate comfort but in a way that feels more invasive than nurturing. 
❤️‍🔥 5th House:  When Valentine visits your 5th house, it brings the “Jealous Admirer” into your love life. This type is intoxicated by your creativity and zest for life but is also fiercely envious of anyone else who shares your attention. They want to be your muse and your audience, the only one you perform for, often leading to dramatic displays of jealousy that can turn any romantic scene into a thriller. Fatal Attraction VIBES.
❤️‍🔥 6th House: In the 6th house, you draw the “Routine Stalker”. This individual is obsessed with your daily routines and habits, often rearranging their schedule to "coincidentally" bump into you. They take note of your likes, dislikes, and even your coffee order, using this information to craft themselves into the perfect partner, always just one step away from being too much in sync with your life. This placement can turn dangerous, watch your back.
❤️‍🔥 7th House: Valentine in the 7th house attracts the “Binding Contract Lover”. This person sees your relationship as a deal that's been sealed, treating every interaction like a contractual obligation forever. They're intensely committed to the idea of "us against the world," often pushing for commitments or declarations of love that feel more like chains than choices. Those with this placement are likely to cheat on long-term partners, unsure how to escape unhappy relationships.
❤️‍🔥 8th House: With Valentine in the 8th house, the “Soul Chain Romantic” is drawn to you. This lover believes in a connection that transcends the physical, claiming a depth of bond that feels more like a possession. They're drawn to your darkness and secrets, wanting to merge in ways that erase individual boundaries, but this is a placement that also draws sexually deviant partners your way.
❤️‍🔥 9th House: In the 9th house, you attract the “Obsessive Quester”. This partner is obsessed with the idea of you as their ultimate quest, an adventure to be conquered. They're drawn to your beliefs and philosophies but twist them to fit their narrative of a grand love story, often pushing you into roles and situations that feel more epic in their head than in reality. Expect a lot of love bombing followed by ghosting with this placement. 
❤️‍🔥 10th House: Valentine in the 10th house brings the “Public Claimer” into your orbit. This individual is obsessed with how the relationship looks to the outside world, constantly posting, tagging, and declaring their love for you in very public ways. They're more interested in the status of being with you than the actual connection, often putting on a show of affection that feels performative rather than genuine.
❤️‍🔥 11th House: In the 11th house, Valentine attracts the “Ideological Chameleon”, someone who obsessively aligns with your hopes, dreams, and social circles. They seamlessly adopt your interests and ideologies, aiming to become your perfect match. This partner integrates so deeply into your world that they begin to mirror you, losing their individuality in the process. They are harmless though, usually truly loving you. Just don’t break their heart, they might end up dating your BFF out of revenge.
❤️‍🔥 12th House: With Valentine in the 12th house, you draw in the “Phantom Soulmate”. This partner feels a deep, unseen connection to you, believing they knew you in a past life. They love from the shadows, perhaps through anonymous gestures or silent admiration, convinced of a spiritual link between you. This is actually my favorite Valentine placement, think of the Gomez Adams to Morticia.
xox astro ash
Get your own astrology reading @ astroash.net
TikTok - astroa3h
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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year
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A Battle of Wills [Loki x Fem.Reader]
A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: [Oneshot] You and Loki play a dirty game of denial. (w/c 1.8k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Language.
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“I give you five minutes,” Loki growled hot and wet in your ear.
The dulcet words dripped from his tongue like treacle. “Five minutes before you’re writhing and whining my name like penitent sinner on the church steps.” He gave the light restraints around your wrists a self-congratulatory yank. “Whatever, Laufeyson," you whispered, "I give you...three.” You didn’t need to see him to know he was frowning.
“Time will tell," he sniffed, haughtiness oozing. The rustle of a sanctimonious hair flick was the only noise in the pregnant silence while he straightened. “You’ll lose," you sighed, settling into the pillow. A smile pressed against the silk mask covering your eyes. “You’re too horny.” Loki’s defiant footsteps retreated, letting the bedroom door swing with a soft creak behind him. But it stayed ajar, the closing click never coming. You pressed your lips together, feeling the cracks where they had dried from his rough kisses. The corners tingled, the bruise beneath the skin of your cupids bow feeling tender. I’m not going to be the one. Not this time. You arched your back, pulling at the restraints. What knot was it tonight? A one handed slip? An inline double coin? A finger curled with difficulty over a lump of silk rope, mapping the tell-tale curves. A prusik head. So it was one of those nights. In the burgundy veil behind your eyelids, shadows danced. There was an exaggerated sigh as Loki reclined on the sofa, the creak of the frame under his weight slicing the stillness. You could feel the familiar tingle of his gaze darting sporadically towards the open door, heavy with lustful arrogance. Could he see you on the bed? Cautiously, you stretched a bare leg upwards, toe pointed to the ceiling before bending it over the other. The curve of your naked ass was displayed towards the doorway, a wordless invitation to rescue...or ravish, the bound and helpless damsel in his bed. A dark rumble sounded from the living room, a synchronised squeak from the furniture betraying your voyeur’s unmistakeable reaction. He could. You smiled, imagining his slanted brows, his tongue instinctually licking towards where you lay strewn like prey. The gloss from your abandoned pussy would still be on his lips. Beneath his nose. A taste of what he was denying himself. The primal scent would be hanging thick in his nostrils. Your sly smile stretched wider. It had been what, ten seconds? Feigning an attempt to escape the binds, you moaned softly. The sofa creaked again. You could sense the anxious whirr of Loki's racing mind, his fingers clenching and unclenching as he tried to distract himself. The slide of cotton against his thighs as he crossed his legs. A tepid exhale as he uncrossed them again. Your lip twitched, hearing the familiar clunk of his belt buckle. And so it begins, you thought; as he carefully unfurled the leather through its holster. He was trying to be quiet. Trying to be subtle. And he was failing.
You squeezed your eyelids shut beneath the blindfold, concentrating. Each breath rising in your chest was tempered as you tried to zone in on the smallest sounds which betrayed Loki’s impatience. A low hum rustled through the air. His zipper, you thought smugly as you slid your legs together, pushing your chest upwards. He paused, listening - before resuming the zipper's clandestine descent. You could sense the grit of his teeth. The silent snarl as he wordlessly cursed the game he had initiated.
The delayed pleasure built to breaking point was always worth it, but god – it was torture. Before slipping on the blindfold, Loki’s tongue had explored every crevice of your sex, bringing you tantalisingly close to the edge. The sight of his dark crown buried between your open thighs flashed through your mind in silken darkness; low pants of muffled moans wet against your skin. With one final, licentious lick his face had risen between your trembling legs. The tip of his tongue danced softly over the curve of your clit as he teased your climax like a hanging axe. Snatching it away. From the look in his eyes, you had known what was coming. Mischief. And now it was time for him to pay. “Mmmm…” you moaned softly, sliding your hips on the soft sheets. The silk of your hold-ups slipped easily against the cotton, gracefully manoeuvring you into another achingly seductive position. “Cheater,” you heard the god rumble under his breath. He inhaled sharply, breath catching. It was the sound he always made when those long fingers wrapped around his throbbing cock for the first time. Loki let out a juddering sigh as he began to stroke himself. You let your mind become quiet. From the tortuously controlled rate of his breathing, you knew he was moving slowly. Too slowly. But he couldn’t resist the urge. He would barely be touching himself, trying to work every ounce of pleasure from the lightest of pumps. He didn’t want you to know how desperate he was. And he was desperate. Or at least, he would be. You squirmed. It was all you could do not to scream for him to mount you like an animal and fuck you into the headboard. Right now his shoulder-blades would be squeezing together, jaw set in a snarl as he tempered his pleasure. The velvet skin which coated its cock; the veins which crested along the thick shaft would sizzle under his calloused fingers. You had traced every one with your tongue, each secret sensitivity exposed as he grasped the bedsheets and grit his teeth to the ceiling. Right now you knew those same perfect teeth would be grinding, those piercing eyes fixed on his woman as she widened her legs. Maybe next time he’ll bind those too, you thought with a smirk. But not tonight. Not after the timer starts. That’s against the rules.
In your speckled darkness you could picture him sitting on the sofa beyond the door as clear as day. He was still wearing his suit trousers – he could remove them but he mistakenly thought they would increase his chances of denying the urge to break first. His pale cock would be standing proud from the splayed fly, the wetted tip tapping against his stomach with every achingly slow pump of his hand. The sight of Loki of Asgard fucking himself would never get old. The way he worked his carved, chiselled body - the clench of his obliques as he tightened his grip around the leaking tip. He would gather the foreskin before pulling roughly down. You loved that. How he retained that erotic stoicism until the final, tense moment when he splattered his seed on your tongue. Your face. Your tits. The fact he had denied you that sight tonight was another reason for revenge. A muffled grunt sounded through the wall. ‘Gods’, it growled, the timbre inhuman. He knew what was coming.
You didn’t care if the hot slick between your thighs was saliva or fresh arousal. The thought of it being both sent a thrill racing through your blood. You clenched, feeling it begin to seep between your cheeks. It tickled. A moan slid past your lips as you let your legs fall open, thrusting gently to the ceiling as you arched your back. Don’t say his name, you cursed silently. Don’t call out.
The clock ticked. There was a scuff as Loki’s feet drew towards the sofa on which he sat; toes curling in his dress shoes. Don’t give him the satisfaction.
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Loki released a ragged breath. He sucked in sharply, the bite of pleasure from his tightening fingers making him wince. He was leaking. Drops of pre-cum squeezed from the aching tip of his cock with every reluctant sweep of his fist. He had begun too soon. He knew that. He glanced to the side, instantly regretting it. There you were, laid out like supper. Your wrists bound to his bed-frame. A prusik head knot – you wouldn’t escape that easily. Even with your talents. The sight made him weak. His stare roamed hungrily over the straps of your lingerie, supple curves glowing in the sultry light from the salt lamp. Only the bra and unhooked suspender belt remained. The matching panties lay discarded and wet on the bedroom floor. Had he ripped them in his eagerness to latch his searching mouth to your perfect little cunt? He couldn’t recall. With you, it always turned into a bit of a haze. Like an animal, he mulled; lowering his chin to his chest.
Loki bit his lip, stifling a growl as your feet slid up the sheets. The lace rims of your hold ups flashed as you squirmed coquettishly. I should have closed the door, Loki pondered bitterly. You knew exactly how to drive him to the brink. And he knew what came next.
“Gods,” he murmured gruffly, mouth agape as your knees fell open. In sync, his brows slanted. If only you could see him, you would instantly know how close he was to abandoning his hand in favour of your heavenly body. In favour of that sinfully decadent mess displayed brazenly between your open legs. Your smirk would be unbearable as he paced towards you like a defeated war-lord to yield his sword to your possession. Honour-bound to surrender. Fucking that smirk off your face would be an absolute pleasure. Loki grimaced, giving his shaft a punishing squeeze. She is growing too sure of her power over me, he snarled to himself. Do not yield. His narrowed eyes inched reluctantly over your glistening folds, plump pink skin begging to be sucked. Begging to be fucked. The top of your thighs shimmered. She’s so ready to be mine, look at her – he thought, the familiar dark haze descending. Spread and wet and insolent. Saliva welled beneath his tongue. Loki instinctively leant forward, the taste of you still lingering in his mouth as his muscles twitched. Perhaps he had been too hasty. Perhaps, tonight was not the time for games – not when you looked so- “F-fuck…” he growled, as a thumb slipped over the sensitive underside. The sticky digit caught against his foreskin, making his eyes roll back. All he needed was you. All he wanted was your hands, your mouth – your needy mewls as he made your world shake. He watched your hips thrust gently to the ceiling, every low clench of your ass driving him demented with lust.
Were you imagining his cock rocking into you? She better be. He grit his teeth. From the melodic gyration in your hips, he knew you were getting it how you liked it on nights like this. Slow, and rippling. Crushingly fluid thrusts that drove you back into the headboard and spilled you over the edge like treacle as you shamelessly howled his name. Loki’s fingers tightened around his shaft, pace quickening. His head fell back against the sofa, curls hanging sluttishly against his collarbone. He released a calculated moan of pleasure, brow furrowing as he saw your back arch in response. You will not surrender, he chanted to himself. Loki's eyes fell on your slippery sex, clenching in synchronisation with his rising groan, a well of glistening heat smothering your little cunt. Any moment now, he thought desperately, beginning to pant. Any moment now...she’ll break.
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You slid one leg down the bed, warmth spreading in your belly as you heard Loki’s rattling sigh. The urge to call out to him was unbearable. To have him storm into the bedroom like a sexual warrior and begin his carnal worship, invading every curve with his weight. With his hands and mouth and words. ‘Loki...fuck me’. That’s all it would take. The phrase lingered on your tongue like salt, ready to spit. The words caught behind your teeth. God, he was too much. And you wanted it all. Now. But then, had he even been trying tonight? Or, maybe you were just that good. A single desperate whimper fluttered as you pulled the binds around your wrists. Loki choked suddenly, a rasping gasp tearing the stillness. A tight slap of his palm against the sofa sounded as he steadied himself. He had been close. Too close. You smirked as silence fell. You could barely hear him breathing. “Fuck,” Loki murmured bitterly. His tongue caught wetly on the k. There were no more words from Loki Laufeyson. Only the sound of his open belt buckle clunking gently as he stood, sword in hand. Ready to surrender.
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Tags @lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @infinitystoner @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @glitchquake @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf
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xdacted · 5 months
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Hii can u write about Mafia!Carlos being in an arranged marriage with reader??
Almost
Pairing: Reader x mafia!Carlos Sainz Jr.
Warnings: mafia! Carlos, arranged marriage, some fluff, comfort
Word Count: 903
Status: Completed
____________
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Carlos.”
She was beautiful, Carlos couldn’t deny it. 
Rising from the couch, extending a hand, the delicate bracelets lining her wrist glimmering underneath the chandelier’s light. Her hair was swept away from her face, falling behind her ears and framing the curve of her cheeks. The color of her lips, the dip of her cupid's bow, his name rolling off her tongue - she was breathtaking. 
Bianca told him she would be, droning off a long list of her accomplishments and background to him on the drive over. Most of her information consisted of the family she was born from, detailing their history and future deals. Though the Sainz family had no debts to be paid, they had plenty of favors to reap. 
‘A beautiful woman of good breeding,’ was what his father demanded he be given. 
And here she was. 
Staring up at him, the subtle curl of her eyelashes, a polite smile. 
The guilt tugged at him. 
“The pleasure is mine alone,” He murmured, pressing a kiss to her skin. 
He felt her tremble. 
Though her fear was well hidden, Carlos had lived in this world long enough. A world that knew only to take, swallowing the weak and destroying the beautiful. Blood dripping from his hands before he could kill, damnation carved into his soul, Carlos has always known who he was to become.
The shadow he was to step into. The role he was to fill. 
But never did he imagine dragging an innocent soul to hell with him. 
“Please!” Her father beamed at Carlos, gesturing to the space beside his daughter, “You must sit, you are our guest!”
With a nod, popping open the button of his suit, he sat beside her. She turned her gaze away from him, folding her hands in her lap. Carlos tried not to stare, he could only imagine the anger she felt. The betrayal. 
He nearly destroyed his office when his father delivered the order. To secure his place as head of the family, and to remove any question of their family legacy, he was to marry. Take the hand of a stranger, bind them to him for eternity. 
“We are honored that you have selected our family, Mr. Sainz,” The Father continued, shooting Carlos a wide smile. 
“I am honored to have been entrusted with your daughter,” Anger bubbled beneath his skin. 
He wasn’t sure what this family was thinking, he didn’t want to know, they were sentencing their child to a life of misery. 
“Of course!” His voice boomed in the small reception room, banging against the vaulted ceilings, knocking into the paintings that stood witness, “Our families have worked beside each other for many generations, this will make us stronger.”
Voice caught in his throat, Carlos could only muster a curt nod. 
“Well? What are we waiting for?”
Carlos was drowning. 
He had been a fool, clinging to childish dreams, losing himself within fantasies of hope. Filling his head with dreams of loving and being loved, cherishing and being cherished. He had been wrong. 
This world only took. 
Carlos gestured over his shoulder, one of his men stepping forward to place a small velvet box in his waiting hand. Though it weighed nearly nothing, Carlos felt as if he might fall through the Earth, the jewel within burning his palm. 
He was drowning. 
Standing at the edge of a precipice, a scream trapped in his throat. Emotions racked within him, there was nowhere for him to go, no one to understand. He was alone. The world shifted beneath his feet, cracking and crumbling under the weight of his fate. 
He could hardly breathe. 
He could - 
She turned toward him, offering her hand once more. 
Carlos met her eyes, unsure of what to say. Unsure of what to do. 
The world was watching them. History was watching them. 
“This is your destiny, Carlito, your birthright.” 
The box fell open with a simple click, revealing the familial ring he’d been given. A blood-red gem glared at him, the gleam of the thick golden band blinding him. Reaching for her, he saw as she flinched away. The smallest thing. 
Small enough to miss. 
Carlos looked back at her, but she wasn’t staring at him, her eyes locked upon his movements. He wasn’t sure she was breathing, her pulse jumping against his fingertips. 
“You cannot run from it.”
With a sharp breath, he slipped the ring onto her finger. 
“The House will always find you.”
It was done. 
Her lip began to quiver, tears pooling in her eyes. 
She was the only one to understand, to know the feeling of dread. Any chance of loving another had been ripped from her, but perhaps it didn’t have to be. 
He laced their fingers together, blocking the eyesore sitting upon her hand. She gasped beside him, clinging to his side. 
“Carlos -”
He shot her a weary smile, gently lifting her hand to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to her knuckles, “Mi amour.”
The color of her cheeks darkened, a shocked expression on her beautiful face.
“I will do my best,” He whispered.
Try to love. Try to be loved. 
The softest quirk of her lips, “I will too,” She squeezed, “Together?”
Try to cherish. Try to be cherished. 
“Of course.”
It wasn’t quite an ‘I love you’, but Carlos supposes it was the closest he could expect. 
An almost. 
_________
A/N:This work has been cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. All are under the name XDACTED. Thank you for reading and feel free to request fics about any of the drivers <3
202 notes · View notes
atinyreads · 1 year
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note: aand here comes another set of my favorites! im not gonna get sick saying this over and over again, but i swear to god i love all of them (maybe developed an obsession with some)
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802 notes · View notes
novthewolf · 3 months
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Two’s company, three’s a family - Part seven
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Summary : As a cupid, an angel of love, your mission was to make sure everyone was paired up with the right person. Yet you couldn’t get your two most ancient clients to finally end up together. And despite the 6,000 years spent on the case, you couldn’t bring yourself to give them up, oblivious to the reason…
Pairing : Aziraphale x Crowley / GN!Reader x Crowley / GN!Reader x Aziraphale (polyamorous relationship).
Parts : First - Previous - Next
Masterlist : Here
Warnings : long, too long (someone stop me), animal corpse, implied child death, crucifixion, depiction of h0rnisness, mention of s3x, s3xual undertone, alcool, violence, blood, use of french, angst, nazis, anxiety panic, slow burn, english isn’t my first language.
Words : +19,3k (seriously, stop me)
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Love ? Have you ever really felt Love ?
3004 B.C., Mesopotamia
It might be a strange thing to say, but right now you are actually learning how to walk. Oh, you knew the basics, but you never tried to practice on real soil. It felt weird on your feet, gritty and dry; it kept scratching the skin. A mix of tickles and quite pleasant itches. The reason you decided to come down was not to experiment with new sensations but to actually see why you had to bind specific animals together.
You would have asked the other cupids assigned to the mission if they knew anything, but only the principalities were aware of the actual goal. So, as curiosity overtook you, you made your way to the open land once you reached the limits of the forest. You were taken aback by the seemingly huge boat sitting on the hilltop. There were a lot of people, nicely looking at the strange scene behind some wooden fences.
Your eyes followed the multiple coupled animals, and you smiled, recognising the ones you created. Apparently, humans were leading them to that structure, leaving you more confused than ever. Slowly, you ambled to join the crowd and catch glimpses of conversation to try and understand what was actually going on. You ended up resting your arms on the wood and lifting your feet off the ground to relieve the pressure. When you jumped on your other foot, you bumped your right elbow against someone else's left side.
"Ah, sorry! I didn't see you here." You hurried, turning around to meet the unfortunate human.
"Oh, it's really nothing." The person was reassured. You gulped when you recognised him. It was the guardian angel of the Eastern Gate who stopped you from reaching said gate in the Garden of Eden. "Did you hurt your foot? My, you certainly will without any shoes on." He rambled in a worried tone. You started to worry as well. Did you just permanently damage your ride? By ride, you meant your physical body.
"No, no! I'm fine." You backed out slightly when he reached down for your leg. "I'm an angel too. My feet aren't hurt, I hope, and I never heard of... shoes? Anyway, please don't mind me." You dismissed me, looking for a way out.
He didn't seem surprised that you were an angel too. But your shattered heart missed a beat. You didn't mean to confess that. Does he remember your status? If he is aware, is he informed enough about your kind? No walking on earth, no feelings, no meddling in other angels' business. But instead of accusing you of not obeying your superior, he just nodded and actually miracled you some'shoes'. It was a really sweet gesture; you didn't know how to react. You simply muttered a small and bashful thank you and watched him kneel down in front of you.
You squinted your eyes, distruting the gentle way he took your scratched foot and helped you slide it inside the unfamiliar fabric. Once you were equipped, you trampled on the soil, laughing incredulously. It didn't hurt anymore !
"Thank you !" You exclaimed, giddy. And you were grateful to find that your overexcitement didn't faze him; he smiled brightly and joined his hands.
"Oh, there is no problem at all !" He laughed in a breath. Seeing that he seemed open-minded, you yearned to ask him the questions that burned your lips. However, someone interrupted you.
"Hello Aziraphale." A demon greeted him, his yellow snake eyes fixed on the guardian angel's face. He took place on Aziraphale's right side. You audibly gasped out of fear and embarrassment. Those two were the ones you linked back in the garden ! Plus, having a demon so close was still overwhelming.
"Crawley..." Aziraphale smiled nervously, his eyes going back and forth between you and the demon. That was when the redhead spotted you and tilted his head to the side to see you better.
"Hello there." He grinned with all his teeth. Intimitated, you simply hummed as a hello. Crawley then turned to Aziraphale. "So giving the mortals a flaming sword, how did that work out for you ?" He teased.
"You gave your sword away ?" You blurred out.
The angel huffed, flustered, and took some time to figure out what to say next. "There were really dangerous creatures out of the garden; they needed some protection." He rambled your way, then turned to the demon. "And the Almighty has never actually mentioned it again."
Crawley shrugged. "Probably a good thing... What's all this about ?" He gestured at the whole commotion. You nodded in agreement.
"Did they have a sudden urge to build a floating zoo ? Is it a common occurrence for humans ?" You wondered, truly curious.
"Well, they do have particular little quirks, but I never saw it come to that extent." The demon trailed, not meeting your eyes.
"From what I hear, God's a bit techy. Wiping out the human race. Big storm." Aziraphale gestured, and you smelled moonflower and moss, which you learned to recognise as sadness, even if he didn't show it. While Crawley's scent made you crunch your nose, you turned to him and watched his expression swing from outrage to disbelief.
"All of them ?"
"Just the locals." He nodded with tight lips. "I don't believe the Almighty's upset with the Chinese. Or the Native Americans. Or the Australians."
"What about the animals ?" You asked deeply, worried as you grasped his white sleeve. There was limited contact between you and animals, but every time you spent time with them, you felt a strong pull towards them, and you couldn't help but coo and coddle them.
"Oh no, God's not actually going to wipe out every creature." He flinched at your touch and was slowly pulling away. Despite your need for reassurance, you knew none of your fellow angels liked to touch you, so you let go. You felt the demon's eyes on you.
"You see Noah up there ?" He pointed towards the hill, and both of you looked up. "His family, his sons, their wives, and every couple of animals they brought in, they're all going to be fine."
"But they are drowning everybody else." He sneered, truly peeved. Aziraphale couldn't even answer and rather preferred to nod in agreement with sealed lips. Goats bleated in the background, catching your attention, and you turned around. Kids came running along them, blissfully playing and laughing. You shuddered.
"Not the kids. You can't kill kids." Crawley argued. He felt more disgusted by it than he showed, and you tilted your head to get a better look at him. You didn't expect him to care. Aziraphale hummed, darting his eyes away. Your heart sank, and you gulped.
"Well, that's more the kind of thing you'd expect my lot to do."
Yeah, so why isn't that the case?
As if he sensed your doubt, the angel spoke up again. "Yes, but when it's done, the Almighty's going to put up a new thing called a 'rain bow'" He offered with a smile, but all he could muster was a brow raise. "As a promise not to drown everyone again."
You couldn't help but let out a mix of scoff and a grunt. Crawley shared your distaste for the whole idea and mocked it. "How kind."
"You can't judge the Almighty, Crawley. And mh..." He stopped and turned to you inquisitively. He wanted to know your name. The last time you heard out loud was when... You wanted to slap yourself. Come on, you couldn’t be afraid of your own name, now can you ?
"Y/N." You smiled; you were actually happy to introduce yourself. Aziraphale was very nice, and even if he didn't know who you were or what you were, he was treating you with kindness and respect. You weren't sure if you were happy to know that a demon had learned your name. Oh god, what if he told him ?
"Don't fret; I'm sure God got all of this figured out. God's plans are simply:
"Are you going to say 'ineffable'"? Aw, they end each other's sentences. You almost forgot they were bonded. You smiled at the thought before remembering that you were the cause of it and how forbidden it was. You looked slightly red as you rubbed the back of your neck.
And when you thought you couldn't be more flustered, you felt Crawley skip behind you, brush his body against yours, and settle by your side. You were now as red as whatever was the reddest on Earth, and you completely froze up too. He then proceeded to burst your ears by yelling.
"Oi, Shem ! That's unicorn's going to make a run for it." A unicorn was indeed running away from the gathering towards the forest, and you were deeply alert, as you were the one responsible for its bounds. "Oh, it's too late. It's too late !" Crawley howled again.
Tired of his loud voice, you decided to leave and run after the poor creature. "Thank you for everything! Mmh.." You rushed before turning around, not sure how to respond in a non-monotone voice. "Bye bye! Smooches !" Smooches ? Really ?
You heard the angel echoe "smooches ?" as you sprinted away. Even with shoes on, you had terrible coordination and fell a few times before entering the forest, while seemingly hallucinating hearing Aziraphale's voice call you in the distance. Despite trying your best to catch the unicorn in time, you couldn't reach it in time. Instead, rain caught up to you, and you also had to discover how to swim. It wasn't as much fun.
Thankfully, you were able to fly away and find shelter in a cave, cold gnawing at your fingers and feet. And in that moment, you were the loneliest you have ever been. You hugged your knees and stared at your dreadful-looking arm, but you couldn't help but hope the unicorn was safe on the ark.
The minute the level of the water lowered enough for you to search, you didn't waste a second. You roamed for hours, your hair and clothes muddy and wet, tangling around your face and body. A few branches scratch your skin, and pebbles disrupt your messy scout. The sun shone through the branches of the wrenching trees remaining on the land.
That was when you found it. Your breath hitched in your throat, considering the sight in front of you. The water had carried it to the canopy, where the remains of lilac bushes lay still. The long legs of the unicorn lay on the sludge-covered ground. Its beautiful long white mane is all tangled and scattered all across its face, its eyes still open and terrifyingly empty. You didn't even feel your feet move or the tears pouring down your cheeks—just crushing fatigue. It was dead. You were the one who paired it, and now it is gone. God, if you had been faster... Suddenly bursting with adrenaline, you ran and jumped at its side, like you wished you had before it was too late.
You hugged the unicorn's neck as tight as you could, holding on to the vain hope that a heartbeat would be heard. But all you could feel was the wet, cold white coat of the beautiful creature. You couldn't bear to let go; you didn't want to leave it alone. Curled up against its shoulder, you waited. The faint sound of thunder rang through the sky, urging you to look up to that shallow promise that would never make up for anything. Not for the losses, not for the pain. You wish you didn't feel the hurt, but you will be damned if you ever forget the cruelty of that moment.
Footsteps slowly made their way to your miserable form. Your eyes opened on their own, and you looked over to see who interrupted your grieving. And as you thought your heart couldn't be more broken, you let out a desperate cry. Crawley stood there, his golden eyes empty, but his face showed profound sorrow, looking as messed up as you did. A small body draped in a white-drenched sheet was held against his chest. The tightness of his hold reminded you of your own, but the delicacy of his touch made him look so vulnerable. He started walking once again, seeking your eyes, and you felt his misery, adding to your own.
Gently, he rested the small body against the side of the unicorn and patted its head.
"It's not fair." You sobbed, your heart clenching violently, the broken pieces piercing through your lungs.
He kneeled down, seemingly paying his respects like you've seen humans do. "God doesn't exactly do 'fair', if you hadn't noticed."
His red hair hid his face from you, but so did his distress and deep anger. It confused you. Of course you understood how he felt; you just didn't get why. Was it just because it was in his nature to thwart her wishes? But shouldn't he cheer on so many deaths and tragedies? Laugh at pain and suffering, like you have been used to.
"It's just... so cruel, and... I don't..." You couldn't finish the sentence before breaking down in tears. Crawley studied your face, followed the path of your tears, and finally focused on your clenched hands. He inhaled deeply, turned around, sat cross-legged, and gazed up at the sky.
"You might have too much of a sweet heart." In a cheerless joke.
You looked up and saw the majestic bow that adorned the clearing sky among the deadly clouds. It felt like a cynical joke played on you. Mocking you for the naive hope that justice was something God actually cared about.
But... as you peered over the furious demon grieving at your side, you felt less alone and strangely understood. Slowly, your hand went up and down his right arm to soothe his boiling heart, dusting off petals of lilac. He turned around, and you gave him a sad smile.
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33 A.D. Golgotha
It's safe to say you were heavily reprimanded for disappearing like that and letting a unicorn get away, because now, thanks to you, they were all extinct. Great job once again; you kept to yourself. Of course, you didn't mention your encounter to anyone.
And yet they didn't punish you; instead, they put you in charge of their new project, "Jesus." He was an incredible human; he was so full of love and kindness that you suspected they used the essence of the Bound itself. Those thirty-three years were fantastic, and you sure were able to stock up on love. You just wish it didn't have to end so soon.
Now here you were, completely defeated. They always had to do that, didn't they? Someone walked up to you and poked your right arm to get your attention. Surprised, you flinched and turned slowly with wide eyes.
"Oh, Aziraphale." You smiled, happy to see him here, since for some reason he was joyful, despite your circumstances. You had decided to give into your heart, only feeling what other people felt. And also, the filter might be broken; it seemed to work just fine with the guardian angel. He was certainly cheerful to be in the presence of the'son' of God, so it felt nice to feel the same.
Aziraphale smiled in return. "Hello Y/N." He then turned to the scene, and his brows frowned. You couldn't help but stare, like you did in the garden. What about him made you stare? You weren't sure, but you were dead set on noticing all the little details of his expressions. He was so expressive, whether it was through his mouth twitching, teeth gritting, or eyes glittering and squinting. The same goes for his smell; you were sure you could guess everything that was going on inside his head.
"Were you assigned to him ?" The gentle voice whispered, as if not to startle you. You thought about your answer. It wouldn't be logical if only cupids were to care for him, so it wouldn't blow your cover. But why did you want to keep lying so much? You slapped yourself mentally. Because he was a principality, because you showed too much emotion for a heartless being, and because you fricking bound him like a demon! But he was so nice, maybe he wouldn't mind... No.
"Yes, I followed him for most of his life." You smiled quickly but definitely stopped gawking his way. "He is a wonderful person." Tears welled up in your eyes, but you knew his existence was still worth it.
The disturbing sound of cracking bones, the hammer, and Jesus's words brought you back to reality, away from the memories. Why do humans never acknowledge good or beautiful things without having to break them? Love was a tricky concept to them, and they didn't really know when to let things be. Because, come on, he was betrayed by a kiss. They used love and trust as weapons. Humans would rather choose hatred and ignorance if it meant they were right and their pride would remain intact.
"Yes, humans can be dreadful creatures. sometimes." The angel nodded. You looked up, flustered. Being used to having yourself as your only companion made you forget to close your mouth and not get lost in your  reflection."
You flinched when he screamed, and you averted your eyes to the ground. A long black robe came into your view. Climbing up from the dry soil to the eyes of the newcomer, you smelled the spice of the naga viper. Crawley was indeed quite angry, alright ?
"Hi Crawley." You greeted me while taking a step closer to Aziraphale, away from the smell.
He acknowledged your presence with a smile and a nod, and you felt the angel stare behind you. You turned around to identify the emotion slithering from Aziraphale, but it was already gone. Still, he was fidgeting with his fingers and slowly backing away.
"Come to smirk at the poor bugger, have you ?" The demon inquired of Azirphale.
"Smirk ? Me ?"
"Well, your lot put him on there." He shrugged.
"What ?" Your incredulous voice resounded louder than you thought. "I thought it was the hate demons." You grasped Aziraphale's sleeve for support, and you fixed him. And he didn't pull away.
"Well, it was, but we, in a sense, let them put him there." He tried to explain the best he could while preserving Heaven's integrity. "And I'm not consulted on policy decisions, Crawley. Otherwise, it would have been a more merciful death." He finally assured you, and you let go, unsure and overall confused.
"Oh, I've changed it."
The two of you turned to Crawley. "Changed what ?" You asked.
"My name. ' Crawl-y' just wasn't really doing it for me. It's a bit too... squirming-at-your-feet-ish." You chuckled at his explanation.
"Well, you were a snake." Aziraphale smirked, and his brow ticked in a teasing manner.
He was? You gulped and bit your lower lip. Thoughts came in a whirlwind into your mind, and you certainly weren't listening to anything they were saying. God, how many mistakes have you committed? The unicorn, the forbidden bound, and letting the snake tempt Adam and Eve into eating the apple. You were a complete catastrophe.
"Did you ever meet him ?" You heard Aziraphale ask.
The step you tried to take back was stopped by confusion. They were supposed to be linked, and when that happens, the people involved spend a lot of time together, as one would expect. So logically, they would at least know if the other had met someone as important as Jesus. What if... You visualised the surrounding bounds, the complete, yet-to-be finalized and the multitude of possibilities. You darted down to observe the bound of the two and realised you were standing in the middle of it. And to add to your feeling of failure, you realised the bound was anything but completed.
You can't even get that right; you mocked yourself. Laughter and tears wanted to escape your throat. Maybe it was for the better, but still, you couldn't bear to be the reason two people couldn't be together, especially not with such a beautiful bond. Perphas, you could try to shoot them one last time. You considered the thought for a moment and slowly decided against it. That was until you heard Jesus cry in pain once again.
"Oh, that has got to hurt." Crawl—no, Crowley hissed. You sniffed, but a small smile settled on your lips. The sound alerted the angel that spined to see you.
"He'll be alright, dear." He reassured me while tilting his head to the side to get a better look at you.
"For sure. Like I said, he's a bright man who wouldn't even hurt a fly; he'll go right up there." Crowley assured me too, gazing up at the sky.
You scratched your arm and hummed in response. Jesus was being horribly tortured for the ideal that love was the best thing life had to offer, and he priotized beyond anything else. The feeling was mutual; you wanted to live by that, if only your peers didn't make it sound so out of place. But you thought the least you could do to honour your philanthropic companion was to respect his beliefs.
"I'll be heading home... I'm heading to heaven. Gotta prepare for his arrival." Your eyes were lost staring at some rock on the ground before retreating away and weaving. "Bye, bye."
"You're sure-" Aziraphale tried, but you were already gone, middling in the crowd where you belonged. A faceless stranger that no one recognised. You turned your blindness spell on and flew up in the sky. You glanced down on the pair and laughed to yourself while aiming. Hopefully you wouldn't have to shoot them again, but come on: how many more arrows would this bound need ?
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41 A.D. Rome
Your invisible form was flying through the streets of Rome at a daring speed. Footsteps running on stone pavers and clothing rubbing against the rough surfaces of the city walls rang in the air. The giggles of the youthful couple were mixing with your own as you twirled around in pure delight. Oh, the sheer happiness of being young and deeply believing that their first love story would last forever.
It might be surprising to hear for some, but cupids were not shooting at every couple. It is your principal job, but most importantly, you were supposed to make sure the world's boundaries were constantly supplied with love. Of course, bounds were the most secure way of ensuring it; not every love story was meant to last forever. And young love is one of the most powerful types, beside unconditional love, as it is filled with hope and innocence.
The young man suddenly grabbed his lover's hand and pulled him into a small, secluded alley. You clapped your hands and soared up in the sky to land on the rooftop of a house. You crawled your way to the hedge of it and gawked down on them with a wide smile. The smaller boy was backed against the wall while his partner was smothering him with kisses on her nose, cheeks, and throat. His arms were passed around his neck as he hugged him lovingly. You supported your head with your hands settled against your cheeks.
The taller boy separated himself from his neck, and he used this opportunity to kiss him passionately. A huge wave of love came rushing up to you, and you inhaled it with vigour, both with your nose and mouth. It raised you on your knees and made you fall down on your back. You basked in the reinvigorating feeling and strung out profusely. The cold stone made the exposed skin of your legs shudder, but the warmth you felt in your heart surpassed any other sensations. It filled your stomach, and you were completely sated.
You hummed deliciously and observed the sky. Now, you were thirsty and still riled up from the emotion, and as always, you didn't know how to manage the thrills coursing through your system. As you came to understand, humans had different ways of dealing with such stirs. The more your body experienced, the more you contemplated your options; you just didn't have the guts to try. Whether it was food, sleep, or sex, You didn't know why; you just had that urge to be human.
Of course, it was absolutely inconceivable for your fellow angels and certainly for the demons too, if you were honest. It was just a different side of yourself that you started to discover. As strange as it is to say, acknowledging to yourself that you made terrible mistakes on Earth made you feel wonderfully uninhibited. You just lack the courage and actual safety to try.
Being unable to talk to anyone about it made you feel so insecure and scared. What if something went wrong ? What if your gifted body wasn't made to experiment anything 'humanly'? Oh Jesus, what if you exploded?! Yes, you had an inexplicable fear of exploding, and you had no idea where it came from. You just needed someone to... Well, actually, you just needed someone.
You rolled to your side and listed all the endeavours you wanted to throw yourself into when you felt an oddly familiar presence. You were alone most of the time; no one was really 'homey' in your heart. So, you kept rolling towards the busiest street, forsaking the lovey-dovey couple. It was a restaurant, and a busy one at that. Still, you managed to spot a red-headed man with much shorter hair than you remembered.
You looked down at your hands, still doubting the choice you made eight years ago. To appease your mind, you slipped down and called off the spell. Maybe they were on a date. Did they eat food ? Yes, you had your priorities neatly organised.
You peeked the upper part of your head through the door frame and found Crowley sitting alone on a stool. Scanning around the restaurant, you were met with the queer sight of Aziraphale playing on his own. Well, maybe it was a tradition of theirs...
"What have you got? Give me a jug of whatever you think is drinkable." He leisured. It peaked your interest, but you didn't initiate any movements. You watched intently when you saw Aziraphale get up from his seat and go up to the demon.
"Crawley- Crowley ? Well, fancy running into you here." Damn, they are definitely the least communicative couple you have ever encountered! Certainly, a bound like that would make it so much harder for them to be apart. You flashed your eyes pink, and that was when you summoned your vision. And you felt like screaming. Their link was still incomplete !
"Y/N ? Golly, it's quite a reunion." Aziraphale chuckled, clapping his hands. He gestured for you to come to the counter too. Unsure, you tiptoed your way towards them. Your mouth opened slightly when you saw the two drinks lying there.
Aziraphale followed your eyes and chirped. "Oh, where are my manners? Would you like a drink too, dear ?"
You blushed and started playing with your fingers. "I never consumed anything from Earth." The stutters you let out doubled the intensity of your embarrassment.
"Anything ?" Crowley insinuated, even though you didn't catch what he meant. The angel did, though, and tsked in a reprimanding tone.
"Still a demon, then?" He gave him a side eye.
The redhead snarked in response. "What kind of stupid question is that,'still a demon?' What else am I going to be, an aardvark?" The angel didn't listen, however, and ordered a drink for you.
You looked down, feeling like you were overstepping a private discussion. Sheesh, your shot has been totally useless, heh? You were really good for nothing, cupid, now were you? "It's really nice of you, but..."
"Here you go, apple and pear juice." The bartender served you right before you could slip away. You eyed the goblet and sniffed the sweet smell of appel and pear, the scent of endermant.
"Don't worry, the taste is way sweeter than house brown; it'll be easier for a first try." His round hand was handing you the drink, and you gently grabbed it, brushing your fingers against his. Bubbles were twirling in your stomach at his consideration.
"Thanks." You mumbled. Crowley huffed with a smirk. When you met his gaze shyly, he winked and grabbed his own cup. A gentle and warm sensation envelopped your body, and you held your cup closer to yourself.
"Salutaria." Aziraphale cheered and went to clank both of your goblets. You and Crowley met him in the hallway, and the vibrations caused your skin to create goosebumps. You enjoyed the feeling, especially when you ran your fingers alongside the texture, like you were doing unconsciously on your right arm. Freezing mid-thought, you rushed to see that your heavily scarred forearm was exposed for anyone to see.
Hiding it in such a hurry caused the pair to study you. You forced out a laugh and raised your glass again. "Heh, a moment of hesitation." You said this before bringing the cup to your lips. In the corner of your sight, you saw the angel moisten his lips.
"So, why are you in Rome for?" Crowley wondered, not caring at all for your discovery, as he finished his drink. You hummed in delight; your taste buds felt like exploding. You darted your tongue out and rolled it around the bit of honeyed pear that couldn't quite enter your mouth. Crowley gulped audibly, as he apparently didn't finish his bevarage as you thought he did.
"Mmh... I thought I'd try Petronius' new restaurant." Adding to the fruity liquid, a heavy wave of macarons and rosé made its way to your nose. You laughed breathlessly, and you were brought back to the conversation. "I hear it does remarkable things to oysters."
"I've never eaten an oyster." Crowley confessed. Do people eat rocks? You tilted your head, confused.
"Oh, well, let me tempt you to..." Aziraphale started, making you gasp.
You weren't the only one spurred up by the vocabulary of the angel; Crowley suddenly turned around to meet his gaze. That is when you noticed he covered his eyes. Despite this, Crowley still looked somewhat exasperated for some reason but was giving hints of macarons as well. Perphas, they were so flustered because you caught them on their date.
"No, that's—that's your job, isn't it?" His expression was tight, laughing through his teeth, his eyes going back and forth between the two of you.
To make sure you weren't the problem, you tried to suggest you join them on their little trip. "I might try an oyster."
He sputtered, realising the mistake he had made. "Oh God... Mh, the taste might be a bit too rich for you." You licked your lips, chasing the saccharine flavour. Crowley looked etched and suggested something out of sympathy.
"They'll be simpler food..."
You put the goblet down and backed. "Don't mind me, I'll see myself out; I still have some, huh, miracles to do!" It was a lie, of course; your lot didn't perform miracles on a daily basis, but you didn't think much of it. Oddly enough, lying didn't bother you that much.
You were so ashamed. You didn't understand why your bow didn't work. Some couples weren't easy to finalise, but you had already shot them twice. Plus, their bound wasn't strained or weak; it wasn't a technical mistake. So why ? "Have fun." You hoped your smile would encourage them to dine together, in spite of your interruption.
"Y/N-" The crowd already covered your body, while you wasted no time scampering away. The moment you were out of breath, you had arrived at the market. Inhaling deeply, you straightened yourself up, trying to sort out your thoughts. Obviously, something was wrong, whether it had to do with you or with them. If it failed not only once but twice, it's because it wasn't meant to be at all. Continuing would be pointless; you had to give them up. You had to.
Why, in the name of love, could you not make up your mind around the idea? Why couldn't you shake off the feeling of excitement you felt when those two were together? Certainly, a bound that would send such love could not be a miscalculation. They made you feel so good, and the theory of your possible addiction is becoming much more plausible now. But you refused to get addicted to them. You had to leave them; if they were meant to end up together, they would eventually do it on their own.
"Would you like to try an oyster, dear customer ?" A merchant interpellated you, since you had stopped only a few steps away. You observed the display of rocks and took a curious look at the seller.
"How do you eat them?" You asked.
"It's easy; come see." He called you over. First, he held the head in a firm grip and brought a knife to the tail of the pebble. He then twisted the knife around and finally slipped it inside. You raised one brow at your own dirty mind and looked away. Finally, as you didn't watch the rest of the show, he levelled the now-open rock to your face. "And you eat what's inside."
You studied the bogger-like thing and sluppered the whole thing, afraid of the taste. And surprising enough, you loved the taste of it, even if the viscous consistency made it hard for you to properly touch it with your tongue. You wondered what it would have been like if you went with Aziraphale and Crowley.
Jesus, you wanted to slap yourself. Stop thinking about them; you couldn't break your new resolution so quickly. And still, the thoughts kept rushing in! How caring the angel had been when he offered you a gentler beverage. The strange device that rested on Crowley's nose, which hid his pretty yellow eyes, The visible fluffiness of Aziraphale's whole being. Or the sweet gesture Crowley had for you, even though you had imposed yourself between him and the white-haired man.
Ok, you are ceasing at all, Y/N; this is ridiculous. You just had to be a burden, now don't you? All of a sudden, a hand tapped on your shoulder, but you were too irritated to answer politely.
"What ?" You snapped and shook the hand right off your shoulder.
And you turned around. You were sadly met with a slack-jawed Mihael, a colleague and former friend of yours, before the war. She was walking—well, you thought she did—but she still floated a few inches above the ground. Her dark pink eyes scanned your face, your fully expressive face, and trailed down to where you lay. She saw you eating, walking, and feeling. Oh God, she saw you snap, broodi, and enjoy. Worst of all, she was, out of all the cupids, the most documented about your situation. Mihael knew. It made her terribly dangerous.
"Please..." You pleaded, reaching out to her, but it only made it worse. She pranced as if she had been burned by your aching hands. Wors couldn't align together.
"Mihael, wait !" You ran after her, but she had already taken off and activated her blindness spell. "No, for heaven's sake !" You then tried to scream your disapproval out of your heart. Running away was the first thing that popped into your mind. Maybe go to the bottom of the abyss to properly cool down. That's how Mihael would come back, or if you were summoned, you'd be perfectly capable of faking your emptiness.
You sighed and detected the scent of desire. It was a brothel—a fancy one. You contemplated the idea of entering and finally deciding to indulge in your sinful interests. Hey, you were about to spend a fair amount of time away from all civilization, not even having light as your company. It would just be another line you'd cross, but you stopped counting the moment you bound an angel and a demon together.Oh God, could you just stop thinking about it? Ugh...
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 
1354, Balkan merchant caravan, Greece
"We can't just keep every infant we find, Y/N. She's not our kin." Elif lectured you severely. Who was Elif, you may ask? He's the head of the merchant group you've been following for a couple of months. You had met him and his wife a few years ago, for obvious reasons, and now you travel with them in the hope of providing the parental love the two craved.
However, they were never able to conceive. So when you found this little baby girl, you knew she needed them as much as they needed her. Convincing Nazli was easy, Elif—eh, not so much. He wouldn't have an unknown baby as his child.
"We will give her to the next village with a stop-by, and that's final." He gave you a stern look and walked away to the group of men gathering around the fire.
It would have been easy to use an emotional orb to persuade him to keep her, but you knew their link would be hollow and fake; it would never last. You sighed and caressed the chubby face wrapped in a tight blanket, nested in the woman's arms. Her eyes pleaded your way, and you sent her a wave of reassurance.
"I'll take care of it, love. Don't worry." You smiled. You jumped out of the caravan and stretched your arms and back. The night sky was truly a beauty. On the day of your creation, though it's all a blur, you remember that it was also the same day all the stars were brought into existence. It was incredible, a majestic moment you wished you could recall more clearly, but your mind was funny like that.
You sighed, the memories of your last meeting with Mihael coming back to the surface, as you did four hundred years after you spent sleeping in the ocean. Honestly, you didn't mean to sleep; it was just all so peaceful, you couldn't help it. She hadn't said anything to Jophiel or Chamuel, not even her own linked! You were so thankful for that. Adriel was a real pain in the ass.
She came to you, more worried than anything else. I apologise until your ears bleed; you still didn't show the full spectrum of your emotions. You didn't trust her. All Mihael did was warn you, advise you to show minimal emotion, and keep better track of your environment.
Following her recommendation, you strayed from your kindness while still providing enough love so they would let you be. Through all your experiences, the distance between you and your peers grew larger, and even if you shared your emotional capacity, you knew you were a freak. It was all too strong. You felt alone in your emotions. Alone in the world. Under the vast canopy of the night sky, with stars twinkling like distant beacons of hope, you stood alone in the deserted land, your heart heavy with a profound sense of isolation. The world around her seemed to fade into insignificance as she gazed up at the infinite expanse above, feeling small and insignificant against the backdrop of the cosmos.
As you traced the patterns of constellations with your weary eyes, a wave of emptiness washed over you, engulfing you in a sea of solitude. Each glittering star seemed to mock you with its unreachable brilliance, a reminder of the vast distances that separated you from the rest of your kind. The soft breeze brushed your hair, bringing along a particular smell. Images of a certain red-haided demon flashed through your mind. A gasp fell out of your lips, and your heart swelled, beating wildly. You searched franticly, bouncing on your toes.
The moment you spot him, you want to rush and greet him, but his posture and behaviour stop you. Crowley is standing next to a caravan, seemingly hiding behind it. Confused, you take baby steps towards him and wait. Once you arrive near him, you get to see what he was watching.
Thieves and barbarians were steathly making their way down the hilltop to the merchants. They were barely visible to the eye; the bright glow of the campfire seemed to warn the good people, but no one seemed to notice. You bit down on your lip when you realised it was certainly your friend's work. Friend ? You meant the client. The anger you felt wasn't directed at him, and it surprised you.
Well, no, what surprised you the most was his next action. While you thought Crowley was here to supervise everything that went smoothly, he instead did something unexpected. He straightened up, raised his hand, and snapped his fingers. You frowned, completely lost. Now, you were standing right behind him, peeking to see the scene unfold.
A huge piece of marchandise rolled out of a cart, one facing the approaching criminals. Elif, who had been conversing with his men, snapped his eyes at the bag before scanning the area around it. Including the bushy hill. The man spotted the group and alerted the others to get ready to fight or hide. You gasped and glanced over Nazli and the baby, but they were far enough away and well hidden.
Your eyes soften at the realisation of what Crowley just did. He also seemed quite satisfied with his actions, and you knew he was congratulating himself. Yeah, you smelled the mix of whipped cream and blueberries. A smug smirk appeared on your face, and you decided to scare him just a bit.
"How much has changed since I left?" You spoke up playfully, making sure to be as sudden as possible. And your wish was answered when Crowley spun around violently, screaming and bolting away from you.
You laughed despite yourself, but the demon was too stunned to really care. "Y/N ?! You scared the hell out of me!" He crowed.
"It seems like you didn't need my help for that." You accused me teasingly, a brow raised.
His widened eyes finally shrank down, and he gulped. "It's not what it looks like." His voice sounded almost pleading, tugging at your heartstrings.
"Crowley, it's okay. I ain't going to denounce you." You took a step forward and tilted your head. "But I will ask you questions." The struggles of battle could be heard, with the thieves charging at the campers.
He groaned and ran a hand in his hair. It grew longer since the last time, probably multiple times since it had been centuries since you two encountered each other. It seemed to be tied into a low ponytail, and his clothes were still as black as the night, in comparison to yours, which were always colourful.
"So... why are you doing the angels work ?"
He sighed and took some time to respond, allowing the gooshing sound of blood hitting the ground to fill the air. "I guess I could tell you..." Crowley took off his glasses and searched into your eyes. In return, you offered him an encouraging smile.
"Me and Aziraphale made an arrangement... We stay out of each other's way and help when we can." He crossed his arm against his chest, leaning again against the caravan.
"Seem simple enough..." You shrugged before frowning. "Don't... don't Heaven and Hell suspect anything ?" Your voice reflects your concern.
A dagger was thrown your way. Crowley grabbed onto your sleeve and pulled you out of its trajectory, next to him. "Nah, they never suspect anything; you know how they are." He tried to act casual, but you did smell relieved that you didn't freak out.
You hummed and chuckled. "Yeah.." A kind of comfortable relationship settled between the two of you, but you couldn't shake the awakening remaining. Leaving abruptly and disaperating for centuries will do that for you.
"Where have you been ?" The redhead inquired.
You inhaled deeply before answering. "I visited the abyss for a while, and... I kind of fell asleep."
Crowley's impressed smile echoed your embarrassed one when he turned toward you. "You fell asleep ?" He nagged with a chuckle. "For how long ?"
"For about four centuries..." You rubbed the back of your head. The air abruptly carried the piercing cries of the infant, grabbing your attention and sending them right back to your clients. You gasped sharply and held your breath. Two barbarians were sprinting towards the poor woman and the baby. Nazli did her best at keeping them at bay, swinging her sabre around and cutting them off enough to prevent them from getting closer. But their patience was running thin.
"Nazli !" Alerted by gut-wrenching cries, Elif called out to his wife, his eyes widening with terror. But he had no time to think; no, he rushed into action. The chief slashed his way to his love, not stopping for anything. Not even the cart right in front of him, where you and Crowley were currently leaning against.
"Wow." The two of you mused in chorus as the chief jumped right over your heads and landed right behind the two men. He brought his long, curvy dagger to the first's throat and slit it wide open. The cries of the baby kept ranging through the air as you watched in awe and slight disgust as the crimson liquid poured down in a thick puddle on the soil.
"Ew." You murmured, earning a scoff from Crowley, who observed the scene with arms crossed over his chest. The other thief punched Elif in the face, but he couldn't care less. He spit out a mixture of blood and saliva and then plunged his dagger into the attacker's chest with all the rage he could muster.
"Mh, talk about killing for love." Crowley commented. But didn't answer. Instead, you looked at the scene tenderly. Elif helped his wife get out of the caravan, putting his hands around her and the baby. That's when the infant instinctively grabbed onto the man's finger. By the way his breath caught in his throat, you knew it pulled right at his heartstrings. You couldn't help but smile like a complete goof.
After what felt like hours, the marchants finally won their battle. Now was the time to mend wounds and sooth souls. Crowley stayed with you the entire night, giving you two hours to catch up. And despite how much you struggled to admit it, you did enjoy spending time with him. Not because he was a dreadful company, quite the opposite. But you knew you had to keep your distance.
Right now, you sat next to each other, watching the spouses cuddle the baby. In the soft glow of the rising dawn, Elif and Nazli sat side by side next to the fire, their hands clasped together in a silent gesture of love and solidarity. The room was bathed in the warm hues of sunrise, casting a soft, golden light upon their faces.
"Nazli." Her husband began, his voice filled with emotion, "I've been thinking a lot about what you said... Maybe we should take her in."
Nazli's eyes lit up with delight, her heart swelling with gratitude for the man she loved more than words could express. You swore in that instead, as you smelt the intoxicating scent of love, you could sink back into the deep abyss and leave solely on the memory of their love.
"Oh, Elif.." She exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion. "Do you really mean it ?"
Elif nodded, a smile spreading across his face as he reached out to gently caress his wife's cheek. "Yes." He replied, his voice filled with conviction, "I mean it with all my heart. I want nothing more than to offer you the family you always wanted." His hand caressed the small baby's hair. "Offer her the family she needs. Little Qamirah." He smiled foundly.
Tears of joy welled in Nazli's eyes as she threw her right arm around her husband, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Thank you, my love," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. You smiled tenderly and glanced towards Crowley, your hand gesturing to the couple. He smiled softly and rolled his eyes in anoyance, but you knew how he truly felt.
You retreated from the wholesome, resting your head back against the wooden cart. "Maybe this deal isn't such a bad idea after all."
Crowley mirrored your chuckle. "I guess you could be added to the contract." He jested teasingly.
You gasped happily and smiled. "Really ?"
"Sure, but it'd be best if you stayed on the surface of Earth for that." He nudged your elbow with his own.
"Don't worry." You streched your back and raised your covered arms high in the sky.
Crowley frowned as he took notice of the clothing. "Afraid you'll get a tan?" He teased.
You bit your lip and caressed your right arm. "Nah, more like a fashion choice." You winked. Crowley laughed hoarsely and then streched up his arm. You watched softly as he got up and dusted himself off.
"I'd love to stay, but I got some reel demonic work to do." He waved off and had already started to walk away. In a matter of seconds, you got up and followed after him. Somehow, you didn't want to let him leave, at least not this way.
"Wait !" You called, and Crowley stopped midstep.
"What ?" He turned softly.
Instead of answering, you sprinted towards your caravan and grabbed a plant you had snatched when you went to the other side of Earth and spent time with the Tupi-Guarani ivilization. They have wonderful, complex social structures, rich oral traditions, and extensive knowledge of the natural world. Ah, what a wonderful vacation !
You pulled out the plant; they called it the flower of the moon. It was a stunning plant, prized for its graceful, glossy foliage and elegant white flowers. With its lush, dark green leaves that arch gracefully from the base, the moon flower produces delicate, white flowers with a central spadix surrounded by a white, petal-like spathe. "There you go!" You handed it to him with a bright smile.
Crowley observed this little beauty of nature before looking up at you with an unimpressed expression. "A plant ?"
You rolled your eyes. "Not just a plant, a moon flower. But it's so great to have one of those! You never really feel alone."
His bright yellow eyes stared into your own before he smirked. "It was time for you to emmerge, sweetheart." He nagged.
You pouted and nudged his arm. "Shush. Take the plant, a gift for everything you taught me." He groaned and took it anyway.
"Just so you know, if it dies, it's not my fault." His warning made you chuckle.
"I'll keep that in mind." You winked. "Thank you for your help." He simply nodded as a goodbye before disappearing from thin air.
As you stood there, you felt loneliness crawling its way back onto your shoulders. All the while you stayed with the demon, you never once felt alone. And more than that, you truly experience true understanding, and it was so refreshing... The irony of the situation was truly oddly amusing to you. You didn't trust another cupid, one of your kind, to display every emotion you could have. But it felt so natural to do so with a guardian angel and a demon. Swallowing with difficulty, you observed the newly founded family and felt something echo deep into your soul.
You laughed—a mixture of disbelief and strange relief. Not only were you one of a kind, but you also found out that you weren't alone in this. Yep, maybe you could indulge yourself in their company... Just a tinsy bit...
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 
1793, La Bastille, Paris
"Rattrapes la, bon sang!" You yelled at the young woman, hoping she would finally decide to run after her friend.
"Non, Y/N." She dismissed her sternly, though the tears threatened to leave her eyes. "Elle a fait son choix; c'est son problème." Turning away from you, she hid her feelings for her friend from you. At least she tried.
You groaned and added exasperation. "Elle a juste eu peur, Lucie. Robespierre est en train de couper des têtes à la volée; c'est tout à fait normal!" Lucie's 'roomate' Madeleine had joined her during the revolution, but the more the franzy took over, the more scared she became. People began beheading anyone who was against the Republic ideology, which included severing the heads of nicely dressed people.
Obviously, an argument ensued, and Madeleine decided to run away from Paris all together, to be safe from all the madness. Lucie wanted to stay, to continue the fight, but you knew she loved her more than anything. And here you were stuck between the two, trying desperately to smooth things over and reunite them. Which was insanely difficult.
"Alors quoi, tu vas la laisser partir? Ne plus jamais la revoir?" You tried to reason with her.
"Absolument !" She exclaimed and threw her hands in the air, acting like a spoiled brat. All of this was still too fresh. Lucie was immensly offended and hurt by her lover's words; there was no way to calm her down right this moment.
So you sighed and ruffled your hair. "D'accord, si c'est ce que tu veux..." Softly, you turned away from her. "Mais n'oublies pas qu'elle ne part que demain matin... agis avant que tu le regrettes." You threw her one last glance towards her, giving her time to pound.
As you made your way towards the square, you saw a couple young men tearing out pavers from the street and children gathering wood for their home. The city streets bustled with the fervour of revolution, while you kept seeking solace amidst the chaos that engulfed the lovely city. The distant echoes of revolutionary chants mingled with the clatter of horse-drawn carriages and the murmur of lively conversations, creating a symphony of sound that enveloped you in a cocoon of anonymity.
With each step you took, you felt the echo of Lucie's convictions pressing down on your stomach—the burden of long, agonising memories hanging over your heart, ready to come crashing down any second. The events of the day had left you shaken and unsettled, your mind swirling with thoughts of rebellion and resistance that once again didn't originate from you.
As you kept walking, you found yourself drawn towards the quieter corners of the city, away from the tumultuous crowds and swirling currents of political intrigue. Picking up a small yarrow, you softly palyed with it in between your fingers. As you wandered through narrow alleyways adorned with quaint cafes and bustling market stalls, your sensitive nose smelled of Parisian life and emotions.
With each passing moment, the rhythm of your footsteps became a mantra, a soothing cadence that calmed your racing thoughts and grounded her in the present moment. The cool night air brushed against your skin as you rolled up your sleeves, enjoying the relaxing wind on your scarred arm. The scent of freshly baked bread and aromatic spices was a comforting reminder of the simple pleasures that still existed amidst the turmoil of the revolution.
Slowly, you allowed yourself to be swept away by the beauty of your surroundings, finding solace in the timeless elegance of Parisian architecture and the soft glow of gas lamps that illuminated the streets like beacons of hope in the darkness. You brought the small white flower up to your nose and inhaled its scent deeply.
And as you flew up to a moonlight-bathed rooftop, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, allowing yourself to bask in the stillness of the sky. Reajusting your red béret on your head correctly, your eyes suddenly snapped down to two guards guiding an overly dressed and white figure away towards the Place de la Révolution, where the crowd was gathered around the guillotine.
And you knew who he was, for sure. "Oh God, Aziraphale..." You sighed and shook your head. The angel had quite particular taste in clothing, so it wasn't really a surprise when you spot him parade in Paris with such expensive clothes. Yeah, he always had a way to miss social clues. So, you flew back, saying farewell to your newly found peace, and followed them from a safe distance.
For your part, you dressed as the typical revolutionary Parisian, while slightly more colourful, so you had no trouble sneaking inside the prison, dodging the aristocrats being taken away by the very clear slashing sounds and screams coming from the lace. You kept searching among the moist cobblestones until you heard Aziraphale's gentle voice.
"Look, this is all a terrible mistake." He assured me while you slowly peeked your head from behind the cold stone wall. "I don't think you understand."
"I have good news for you. You are the 999th aristocrat to die at the guillotine by my hand." The man affirmed himself cheerfully, like a proud collector. "But the first English." You rolled your eyes at the statement, still waiting for the right moment to interfere. Why did Aziraphale not consider using a miracle? Why risk discorporation, especially such a painful one ?
"Now..." The man started before you heard him move around.
Before you understood what he was doing, Aziraphale got up, his chains clanking on the ground. "Please ! No."
You frowned, anger bubbling in your stomach and your teeth gritting. No way I'm letting him hurt Aziraphale... A rush of adrenaline washed over you, but just before you could intervene, a voice spoke from behind you.
"How about we help our little friend, mh ?"
A loud, high-pitched yelp escaped from your throat, and you turned violently around. Crowley was looking at you through his sunglasses and mocking a smurk on his lips. You let out the breath you kept in your lungs and growled.
"Don't do that." You scowled.
He shrugged and leaned over the prison cell. "It's just payback, sweetheart." He mumbled in a low voice and snapped his fingers, causing your brow to raise.
"Animals." The angel grumbled, deeply reproachful. You smiled and pushed the cell door open.
"Animals don't kill each other with clever machines, angel." Crowley said before sitting down nonchalantly.
"I'm afraid only humans do that." You added, standing with your hands behind your back.
"You..." Aziraphale sighed, and you smelled utter relief emitting from him. "Good Lord..." He smiled, rolling his eyes. You close up to him and gently remove the chains from his wrists. Your eyes trailed on his clothes, and you scoffed. Long white coat, richly decorated vest, obviously tailored pants, gee... The only thing you missed was the way your friend looked down at your hands, his breathing picking up slightly.
"What the deuce are you doing locked up in the Bastille?" Crowley inquired from his corner. "I thought you were opening a book shop."
"In London, nontheless." You finally got rid of the metal and let it fall loudly to the ground. Stepping away from him, the angel had space to take a deep breath and explain himself.
"Well, I was. I got peckish." He pouted, rubbing his bruising wrists.
Crowley smirked. "Peckish ?"
Aziraphale couldn't meet your gaze as you tasted funnel cake in the air. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, if you must know, it was the crêpes." You chuckled in response.
"Crêpes ? Don't they make 'em in England?"
"Not as good as the ones you find in Paris, that's for sure. Oh, and the brioche." He assured me, filled with conviction. You shook your head and kept laughing.
"So you just popped across the channel during a revolution because you wanted something to nibble?" The demon almost, ironically, lectured.
You shrugged. "Meh, I could understand. But not dressed like that, Azy." A smirk took place on your face.
He eyed you two up and down and then stated: "I have standards." In all your responses, you stuck out your tongue. "I did hear they were getting a bit carried away over here, but..."
"Yeah, this is not getting carried away. This is cutting off lots of people's heads very efficiently with a big head-cutting machine." The red head pointed out his slight resentment.
You nodded in agreement, but tried to bring up the positive. "At least, they are quite creative." But all you earned in return were jaded looks from your two clients. You raised up your hands to plead your innocence. "But, why didn't you miracle your way out?"
An effective way to change the subject. Aziraphale looked down once again. "Oh, I was reprimanded last month." You glanced towards Crowley, and you shared a knowing look. "They said I'd performed too many frivolous miracles. I got a strongly worded note from Gabriel."
Your lips twitched in a contrite pout. Only imagining what Chamuel would do if you ever got reported didn't settle quite with you, and the last thing you wanted was to bring to yourself. In a way, you were envious of how Aziraphale had even the chance to make a mistake.
Crowley stood up and strolled towards you. "Well, you're lucky I was in the area."
"We." You wasted no time correcting him.
Aziraphale scoffed. "I suppose I am." A soft smile appeared on his face, and the faintest blush appeared as he gawked at the two of you. "Why are you here?" He frowned.
"My lot sent me a commendation for outstanding job performance." The demon answered first, waving off his own statement.
Aziraphale gasped and got agitated again. "So all this is your demonic work?" He gestured towards the raging crowd.
"No. The humans thought it up themselves. Nothing to do with me." Now it was Crowley's turn to clear his name. So, there is a chance for you to restore your image.
"Heh, I told you, creative." You chirped proudly. But the same silence welcomed your words. You sighed, and your shoulders fell. "Fine..."
"Well..." Azirphale talked up again after a few seconds of judging silence. "I suppose I should say thank you for the, uh, rescue." He swung his arms from either side of his body softly.
"Don't say that." Crowley suddenly surged forward and snarled, startling you slightly. "If my people hear I join forces with an angel to save another, I'll be the one in trouble."
You sighed and rolled your eyes, already starting to walk away. Over the centuries, you learned to leave these two whenever they started to have a moment. "And my lot, do not send rude notes." Crowley's voice was fading and was replaced by your own footsteps.
"Well, anyway, I'm very grateful. What about if I buy you lunch?" Aziraphale offered. You stopped in the middle of the hallway and, at a turn, smiled, melancolic, before foresaking their conversation. Even though it didn't stop there.
"What do you think, Y/N?" The red head stopped mid-sentence as he noticed you were gone. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "What do they always do?"
Once again, you didn't join them for lunch. Why would you? They were just clients. You repeated this to yourself all the time, hoping one day it would finally make its way to your brain. But this desire never went away, despite how many times you echoed your words over and over again.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the slowing city, you stepped out of a restaurant, crêpe in hand. Obviously, to avoid any unwanted attention, you made sure to pass by Lucie and, thank you enough, Madeleine. Quietly munching on your treat, you observed their bodies finally coming together. The tension that had lingered between them for so long seemed to melt away in the fading light, replaced by a tentative sense of reconciliation. They were a few feet away from each other, but still Lucie reached out tentatively, her hand trembling slightly as she touched the blonde's cheek, her eyes filled with regret and longing.
"Je suis désolée, Madeleine." She whispered softly, her voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of leaves. "Je n'ai jamais voulu te faire de mal." Tears softly formed in her eyes. "Je t'aime plus de tout au monde." She confessed, her voice breaking under the emotion.
Madeleine's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she reached out to clasp her lover's hand in her own, the relieving scent of forgiveness filling the air. "Je t'aime aussi, Lucie." She replied, her voice trembling with emotion. "J'ai juste eu tellement peur... tout ce qui passe en ce moment..." Her breath quickened once again through her fear.
"Je sais, je sais, et je m'en excuses. Mais je te promets qu'il ne t'arrivera jamais rien, jamais." She assured, so determined with the firm intention to protect Madeleine until her last breath.
And in that moment, as they sat together beneath the canopy of clouds, you felt a pang of longing tug at your heartstrings, a silent reminder of the feelings you had buried deep within your soul. It wasn't the first time you felt envious, but you would never let those feelings settle in your heart. The choice you made so many centuries ago will never change. However, as you watched from the sidelines, you were unable to recognise the truth that lay dormant within your own soul.
Lucie and Madeleine embraced, their love rekindled amidst the fragrant blooms and gentle whispers of the night, as they finally found solace in each other's arms. "Ça ira mon amour..." Lucie hugged Madeleine tightly against her chest as she continued to sob her relief and fear. "Ça ira pour toujours."
Yeah, it will be okay. You bit off a bit of your crêpe, the mixture of the taste of love and your little snack warming up your belly in the best way. You got up and stretched out your arm, bow in hand. And while you shot the two of them, you kept hoping that one day you would be at peace with your choice.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
 
1811, Windsor Caslte, London
The grand ballroom shimmered under the warm glow of candlelight, its walls adorned with opulent tapestries and gilded accents. As the musicians tuned their instruments, the air buzzed with anticipation. Ladies draped in silk and lace, gentlemen adorned in tailored coats, assembled in a choreographed display of social refinement. As the orchestra struck the first notes, couples gracefully glided across the polished floor, engaged in the intricate steps of the minuet. The scent of perfumed wigs mingled with the delicate fragrance of flowers scattered throughout the hall. Servants discreetly circulated, offering glasses of fine wine to the elegantly attired guests. You swiftly grasped a glass and nodded to the young woman, thankfully.
Amidst the rhythmic rustle of silk and the subdued murmur of conversations, the atmosphere exuded a sense of sophistication and regality. The ball at the court of George III unfolded as a spectacle of grace, where every movement and gesture spoke the language of grace and societal hierarchy. You strolled among the crowd to fade into the background while observing two enemies dancing together. The line between love and hate was so thin. You couldn't help but feel drawn to them, despising the risk of facing a hate demon. She was sent to kill him, a duke, but they've been dancing for hours now. The tension was there—the ballroom, the dancing—if you wanted to, you could just send a wave of temerity, and the deal would be sealed!
I continued to stroll in a circle around the couple, listening to the music softly. You enjoyed the sweet melodies and the frail details of each note; it made your heart react differently to every song. You hummed the languishing melody as you closed up to the buffet, where you were met with a familiar presence. Your head softly snapped to study the table covered with baked goods, and you smiled brightly as you recognised the person. Rushing to his side, you wasted no time greeting him.
"Aziraphale !" You chirped as you stood a few feet away from him. The white-haired angel was startled, as he didn't expect you here, even less to catch him with his mouth full. He let out a muffled exclamation before swallowing with difficulty.
He coughed a bit before greeting you back. "Y/N, hello!" Aziraphale smiled and closed up to you ever so slightly. "Golly, I haven't seen you since the bastille." His whole presence was so warm, and you couldn't help but bask in it.
You nodded, still smiling like an idiot, as you looked at him up and down. "I'm relieved to see you understood how to dress according to the situation." You teased him playfully and nudged him gently. Worry had eaten you up for a long time since the last time you saw the trusting angel almost getting disintegrated, so it was refreshing to see him well and still so fluffy-looking.
"O-Oh.." He smiled, embarrassed, while rubbing where you had touched his arm. He laughed softly. "Yes, I learned my lesson well enough."
You grinned gently before grabbing a small snack from the display of food. "So, what have you been doing here?" You munched softly on the little dish before looking back up at him.
"Oh, well, I've been sent here to perform some miracles, as always." Aziraphale explained. "But I must admit that I stayed for the music and the food." He hummed as he picked out something too. "Ah !"
You laughed softly at him and took in the ballroom once more. "I see. It's nice to see another angel enjoying music too."
His eyes seemed to sparkle when he nodded. "Indeed, it is." He smiled, his squishy cheekbones raising up. Despite yourself, you couldn't help but blush at his attention, though you would not admit it. To shake those ideas out of your head and tilt your head towards the intricate dancing. "Even danced before?" You wondered, taking the last sip of your wine.
"Oh, heavens no..." Aziraphale dismissed you, while you still caught his yearning gaze directed to the dance floor. "Angels don't dance."
You raised your brows, your lips pouting in an agreeable manner. "True, but we are one of a kind." The smirk on your face was nothing but devilish.
He exhaled deeply and shook his head. "You spend too much time with Crowley." The last dance came to an end, and the room roared with delicate applause. Aziraphale kept fidgeting with his fingers, longing to join in on the next dance.
"By the way, I know the steps of the minuet." You trailed off casually. "I could guide you." A small grin creeped into the corner of your mouth.
His chest swelled quickly at your words. "You do?"
twirledYou didn't ans;er him, instead, you giggled and led him to the dance floor. In the dimly lit ballroom, the strains of a delicate melody of the song 'St James' House' twirling in the air. With a gentle yet firm touch, you guided him through the intricate steps of the dance, your movements fluid and effortless. As you two glided across the polished floor, your poised demeanour contrasted with the angel's tentative strides, yet he followed your lead with a mixture of awe and determination. His steps faltered occasionally, but your encouraging smile and subtle corrections kept him in rhythm. With each turn and twirl, you conveyed a seemingly lifetime of experience, while Aziraphake, with his earnest enthusiasm, added a sense of freshness and spontaneity to your performance.
He had the happiest grin on his face while gracefully gravitating around one another. "You're doing great."
His cheeks were coloured a soft pink. "It's so much better than I could imagine."
"You shouldn't be afraid to do what your heart wants because you dread what others might think." You chuckled and squeezed his hand.
His brown eyes met yours, and you smelled cypress and pitaya. The words escaped your mouth before you could think; they shocked both of you but truly conflicted him. And you wanted to slap yourself with your own hyprocrisy. However, Aziraphale didn't give your dark thoughts enough time to form.
"Sometimes I wish..." He whispered, looking down at his feet. You gave him time to form his words correctly, gently leading the dance. "I wish I wasn't attached to Heaven." He was truthfully letting his vulnerability out, trusting you with ideas that could get him erased. "Not that I want to be a demon; far from that! But... at least not having so many restrictions and rules."
"I understand how you feel; it's the way Heaven does things. I find it odd and... cruel." Under the facade of elegance and refinement, a sense of unease hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the grandeur of the evening. You two kept twirling and spinning, your steps now synchronised in perfect harmony. With each turn and dip, no one could suspect how you spoke in hushed tones of the injustices and inequalities that plagued the very system they were sworn to uphold.
"It's unfathomable." Aziraphale murmured, his voice tinged with frustration, as he guided Amelia through a graceful turn. "How can we claim to be the arbiters of justice when we let incommensurable horrors happen on Earth ?"
Your brow furrowed in agreement as she met Aziraphale's gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the harsh realities they both faced. "Indeed," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness. "I also had been exposed to a certain... hypocrisy." You kept escaping his gaze. "But at least, I think we can find beauty in the fact that despite all the hate in the world..."
You trailed off your last words, preferring to watch over the angel's shoulder and see your two clients still dancing with ardor. Their movements were a silent protest against the injustices that permeated their world, a defiant assertion of their shared belief in a better, more equitable future. A hope that encouraged them to share a kiss instead of guiding each other to their deaths. You smiled softly and led Aziraphale towards the outlet of the dance floor, as you had an arrow to shoot. "Most humans choose love."
As you finished your sentence, you reached the rest of the ballroom. Aziraphale's mouth was slightly open, as if totally mismerized by words. On instinct, you chuckled and kissed his cheek. "Sorry, Az, I have to go, but it was so good to see you again!" You chirped and fantastically ignored the angel's blush. "Bye, bye! Smooches !"
And you left, bouncing up and down and disappearing in the crowd. But you couldn't resist a last little peek. As you did, you catched Aziraphale, pressing his hand to his cheek with eyes wide open. You giggled. Sometimes you forget how angels aren't used to being physical; you have to cut him some slack.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 
1862, St. James Park, London
In the tranquil setting of the park, you stood next to the serene pond where ducks paddled lazily through the shimmering waters. With each gentle toss of seeds, you watched as the ducks eagerly darted forward, their feathers ruffling with excitement as they pecked at the scattered treats. You were waiting near the Aziraphale and Crowley, discretely, of course, and waiting to see the result of your new attempt. You had tried a new technique and sincerly hoped it worked this time.
Lost in the soothing rhythm of your task, Sarah hardly noticed the passage of time as she waited for her friend, Alex, to arrive. But as the minutes stretched into hours, a frown creased her brow, and a sense of unease began to gnaw at her. Finally, you spotted Crowley alone, striding towards you, his brow furrowed and his expression clouded with frustration. Your heart sank as you recognised the telltale signs of a heated altercation, and you braced yourself for the storm that was about to come.
As he approached, he stomped his foot heavily on the ground beside you, his movements stiff and tense. Sensing the tension radiating from her friend, she hesitated for a moment before tentatively reaching out to lay a hand on his arm, a silent gesture of comfort and support.
He groaned loudly and kept fidgeting and squirming around; it was obvious he didn't handle frustration really well. "I can't believe him!"
You chuckled and turned back to the pound. "It's good to see you too, Crowley." You smirked.
"Yeah, yeah..." He dismissed me but didn't ask anything. Without another word, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a crumpled paper bag, tossing a handful of breadcrumbs into the pond with more force than necessary, causing the ducks to scatter.
"Don't feed them bread!" You slapped his hand to stop him, causing all the crumbs to fall to the ground.
He frowened and shook his hand to nub the pain. "Why ?"
"It's bad for them! There." You stood up and gave him your small bag. "Give them some cracked corn, or even peas is fine!"
Crowley nodded absently and started throwing the seeds inside the lake in a more calm manner now.
“So, what did Aziraphale do to piss you off this time?” You grinned softly. 
He didn't smirk like he used to. Nor even scoff. You turned to him and realised he was playing with the small, empty bag. You frowned slightly and inhaled deeply. Rusty metal and tuna filled up your nose, making you fully turn. Why was he feeling guilty?
“Was it something you did?” You guessed in a soft voice, trying to show him you wouldn't judge him if he made a mistake.
He groaned and took off his glasses to rub his face. His bright yellow eyes met yours, and you saw doubt. What wasn't he ready to tell you? After everything you had discussed.
“If it’s something you said, I'm sure it can be dealt with.” You smiled reassuringly.
He shook his head and faced you slowly. “It's something I asked.” His answer was evasive, but at least he was giving you hints.
You nodded absently, though you didn't know what Crowley could have possibly asked that Aziraphale wouldn't allow. “Did you ask to buy a book?” 
He scoffed out a laugh. “I wouldn't dare.” 
“Then what?” You pressed in a near whine. Crowley lost his smile and looked back ahead. 
His chest rose in a deep inhale, and he reached in his pocket for a piece of oddly wet paper. With a scrunched nose, you took the slimy paper and opened it. And what you read made you feel what other cupids thought you always did. Dead serious.
“What…w-what..” You coughed and blinked repeatedly. “Why would you need that?” 
He was fixed on your face, examining your reaction. “For insurance. In case the deal goes wrong." 
“It's too dangerous.” You took a step back. Anger started to bubble in your stomach. Why ? You couldn't exactly pinpoint it. Maybe it was against Crowley for ever considering such an idea. Or against yourself for participating in a deal that you knew could bring mountains of troubles. You squished the paper in your hand and miracled it away. The red-haired man sighed next to you.
"Fine, take his side; I don't. As I said to him, I got other people to 'fraternize with, some more open-minded people." He pestered you, but you didn't miss the smell of hurt. You huffed anyway and frowned.
"Yeah, right, go on then. Go tell your demon friends how eager you are to get your hands on this; I'm sure they'll be thrilled!" You snarled and threw the last bit of seed into the water, miraculously not hitting any ducks. Not wanting to stay any longer, you left, purposely stepping on the ground harder than necessary.
In an effort to clear your mind, you strolled through the park while the regular questions came running back to you. Why, when you shoot an arrow at them, it doesn't complete their bound but instead leads them apart even more? What were you doing wrong? It often confused you and kept gnawing at your brain, so very often. You entered a part of the park filled with roses of all sorts, similar to the different types of affection and love. Because flowers tend to represent the variety of loves that exist in the world. White roses for young love, pink roses for gentle love... And in the case of this one, you weren't sure.
While you observed this new rose, you failed to notice the angel's presence right at the angle. He was smelling the same flowers as you, Jack Roses, as they were called, to calm his nerves. As he gazed back up, he spotted you. A smile adorned his face, and he gently made his way to you. "Y/N ?" He gently called out. You looked up, too, and smiled. Yeah, you both knew you had the same conversation.
In a comfortable silence, you went to sit together on the worn park bench, the evening sun casting a warm glow over the tranquil scene. You noticed the furrowed brow and tense posture of your friend. He kept twirling the rose in between his fingers. Quietly, you grabbed it from his hand and attached it to his jacket as an ornament.
With this gentle touch, you offered a wordless gesture of support and solidarity. Aziraphale's gaze flickered towards yours, uncertainty etched in the lines of his face, but as he met your reassuring gaze, a flicker of relief crossed his features. In that moment, you felt the tension in his body begin to melt away, replaced by a sense of reassurance and, you’d call it, camaraderie. After a few minutes, you grinned slightly and joked. “Fraternising ?” 
He scoffed and closed his eyes. “You know what I meant.” 
The problem ism that you didn't. Through theMilanals,s you never understood the nature of their bon,orr your relationship with them. Are they friends,camarades, or, lovers ? It was so mess and confusing. Maybe it was because of your heart, but you were not capable of identifying the truth of it all. And solely about them,m which only made it worse ! But now, you couldn't leave Aziraphale alone, could you? It was your fault if they split up, the least you could do was, well, do the right thing. And you always, always do what you think is best.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 
1941, London
In the heart of wartime London, amidst the chaos and clamor of air raid sirens and echoing footsteps, you raced through the bustling streets, your heart pounding with urgency. The cobblestones echoed the rhythm of your hurried steps as you darted past dimly lit alleyways and bustling market stalls,your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
In the heart of wartime London, amidst the chaos and clamour of air raid sirens and echoing footsteps, you raced through the bustling streets, your heart pounding with urgency. The cobblestones echoed the rhythm of your hurried steps as you darted past dimly lit alleyways and bustling market stalls,your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
You were frantancly looking for Aziraphale. The two of you had been hanging around each other, and you started to notice when he first had contact with the Nazis. And despite your anger, you knew he was putting himself in danger, and you couldn't help but come to his aid. The only problem was that you had no idea where he might be. With every passing moment, the weight of uncertainty pressed down on your shoulders, driving you forward with a relentless determination. Your senses were heightened, attuned to the cacophony of voices and the distant rumble of explosions that reverberated through the city like a symphony of chaos.
Through the haze of smoke and dust, your eyes kept flashing pink, searching frantically for his familiar aura, your aching heart hammering in your chest as she wove through the throngs of people who filled the streets like ants scurrying for cover. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as you raced against time, your mind consumed by the singular purpose of finding Aziraphale and avoiding a catastrophe.
As you turned a corner into a narrow alleyway, your breath caught in your throat as your eyes finally spotted Aziraphale's bound, guiding you to a nearby church. With a surge of hope, you quickened your pace, your heart pounding in anticipation as you drew closer to the familiar energy. In your haze of thoughts, you didn't realise you were standing right in front of the huge wooden door and had kicked it open. The noise the door made mimicked thunder, startling the three men, though your blazing gaze was focused on only one. Azirphale had his eyes wide in complete confusion and was surprised. But only after a few seconds of taking your messy appearance in did worry morph into his face.
"Y/N ? Oh, my dear Lord, what happened to you ?" Aziraphale rushed to you, totally abandoning the two men.
"War happened to me." You growled before shaking your head and strolling towards him. "I can't believe you're dealing with Nazis !"
Meanwhile, a thinner man packed up the books Aziraphale had brought. "I will pass it on to the Fuehrer."
"To Hitler ? The wost human ever ?!" You sighed then, completely dejected. Like every war, it took a real toll on you. Love was hard to come by, and you were famished, going as far as bounding rats together. Aziraphale stumbled on his words, wanting to explain everything to you, but stopped himself.
"These volumes of prophecy will be in Berlin by the end of the week. The Fuehrer will be most grateful." You glared the Nazi's way, your face utterly sullen.
"You have been exceedingly helpful, Mr. Fell." You sent a deadly look in the white head direction while he kept fixing ahead of him, lips drawn in a thin line. That's when the noise of a gun resonated inside the empty space of the church. "Such a pity you and your friend must be eliminated, but take heart, just another in the blitz."
A loud, exasperated sigh left your lips, and you commented. "Again ?"
He pouted apologies in response and then turned back to his little friends. "That's not very sporting." You frowned, intrigued, and crossed your arms in front of your chest.
The chubbier one copied your frown and observed. "You do not appear worried, my friend."
The sound of heels was accompanied by another cocking gun. You turn around, your eyes widening along with the two other men, while Aziraphale fakes nonchalance. Still, he reeked of arrogance.
A woman dressed in black was aiming her weapon at the Nazis. "He's not worried." She revealed. She didn't smell friendly, though, but surprising enough, some humans were more talented at hiding their real intentions than others. That's why you couldn't figure her out. Wary, you softly stepped back, in between her and your friend.
"Who is she?" The man asked, and Aziraphale wasted no time in answering. "She, my double-dealing Nazi acquaintance, is the reason why none of those books are going back to Berlin." He turned to you, bowing his head with pride at his own schemes. "And why your nasty little spy ring will be spending the rest of the war behind bars." The two men nicely raised their hands and dropped their guns.
Suddenly, malice hit your nostrils—a mix of sweetpea and the steathy scent of gunpowder—revealing itself when you least expected it. Oh, come on...
"Let me introduce you to Captain Rose Montgomery of British Military Intelligence." The way he talked truly felt like he was reliving a scene from a mystery book, and you could easily get distracted by how much you enjoyed his almost childish joy if you weren't busy eyeing the woman's swinging aim.
She stepped closer, but you stood your ground next to the angel. "Thank you for the introduction." Her smile was too fake, and her gun kept pointing in the wrong direction, and you didn't hesitate to constantly step in the way.
"Our side knows all about the two of you. She recruited me to work for you." He insisted on the word 'work' while glancing furtively at you. But you knew something was off. "Aziraphale..." You started with a meek voice.
"And now she is going to tell you this building is surrounded by..." Aziraphale continued to ramble but interrupted him firmly.
"Aziraphale." You grabbed onto his arm to ground him as a twisted smile diformed the man's features.
"I'm afraid she works for us, Mr. Fell." You held back and growled as the man spoke up.
"Allow me to introduce Fraulein Greta Kleinschmidt." The smaller man spoke slowly as the woman turned towards both of you, clearly aiming at you now. Aziraphale gasped, but you kept keeping him away from the weapon.
Greta kept stepping away and started to talk tenderly with one of the men. Gee, you couldn't believe that the most love you had felt in weeks was coming from the most terrible people God had ever created. You glanced back at Aziraphale, who was completely lost, and it pained your heart to see him like this. "Now, where were we? Oh yes." The gun was so close, you swore you could just knock it out of her hand. "Killing you."
"You can't kill us. There'll be paperwork." Azirphale almost pouted behind you, but you sensed him moving closer. But before anything could happen, the heavy wooden door slammed open once again.
And whoever had just entered seemed to have quite trouble breathing. Or maybe they were hurt. In the end, it was a mix of both. "Sorry, consecrated ground." It was Crowley, daring to walk into a church. His feet seemed to burn as he tried to spend minimal time on the ground. And you thought about how grateful you were that you had the ability to fly. "Oh ! It's like being at the beach in bare feet." His voice was so high-pitched that it almost made you laugh.
"Crowley ?" You mused, at a loss for words. It's been years since you've seen him—well,  since your argument in St. James—and it would be a lie if you said you hadn't missed him.
"Yep, the one and only, always there to save your butts." He teased while turning around in circles to avoid standing in one place.
"I should have known, of course. These people are working for you." Aziraphale accused you and finally stepped in front of you.
The demon seeked suppot in one of the dark benches as the floor kept burning him. "Nah, they're a bunch of half-witted Nazi spies running London, blackmailing and mudering people. I just didn't want to see you  embarrassed." He tried to nag but couldn't handle the pain. Instead, he waddled around like a duck.
"Indeed, I see you are covering for us both." Azirphaled mocked you in a hushed voice and smiled when he noticed the growing grin on your face, even if you tried to mask it.
"Mr. Anthony J. Crowley. Your fame precedes you." The man started, catching your attention, and you noticed the woman almost drooling over your friend. Well, it was a bit exaggerated, but it seemed like the best vocabulary to use in that moment.
"Anthony ?" Aziraphale wondered, unsure if he heard him right. "You don't like it ?" Crowley retored, and you smelled legit curiousity; the thought of him changing his name to suit the angel caused a cheeky smile.
"No, no, I didn't say that. I'll get used to it." The white head reassured me, though he kept frowning. And it raised a couple questions for you too.
"Wait, so what's your name ? Or do they call you Aziraphale Fell ?" You leaned in, tilting your head to the side. "Kinda redundant, don't you think ?" You jested with a smirk.
"Really not the place, dear." The angel lectured gently but didn't lean away.
"The famous Mr. Crowley ?" She kept eyeing him like a piece of meat, and you really didn't like that, and you unconsciously moved in front of the demon, but it was kind of useless considering he had to keep moving. "That's such a pity that the three of you must die."
Crowley tipped his hat, and you pouted. "What does the 'J' stand for ?" You continued, despite what Aziraphale had just said.
"It's just a 'J', really... Look at that !" You frowned, followed, and looked over where he was gawking. Holy water. You scowled. "A whole fontful of holy water doesn't even have guards !" The red head explained a mixture of pain and excitement.
"Enough babbling. Kill them both." The Nazi finally ordered, already grabbing the bag full of books.
However, Crowley had other plans. "In about a minute, a German bomber will release a bomb that will land right here." He gestured while dancing around. "If you all run away very, very fast, you might not die. You won't enjoy dying; you definitely won't enjoy what comes after." You nodded in agreement, almost mocking.
"You expect us to believe that ? The bombs tonight will fall on the East End." The chubbier man smirked.
"Yes. It would take a last-minute demonic intervention to throw them off course." Crowley confirmed, and you decided to play along.
"I think you're all wasting quite valuable time, dear fellows." You smirked; you couldn't admit it, but you truly hoped they wouldn't run away and would rot in Hell.
"And if, in 30 seconds, a bomb does land here, it would take a real miracle for my friends and I to survive it." He tilted his head to the side, towards Aziraphale.
"A real miracle?" The angel stammered in response, carefully moving closer to the two of you.
"Kill them. They are very irritating."
Crowley raised his hands and pointed at the ceiling, expectingly. Suddenly, a distant rumble echoed through the darkness, growing louder and more ominous with each passing second. The ground beneath your feet trembled as if in anticipation, sending shivers down her spine. The air crackled with electricity as the sound of rushing wind filled your ears, drowning out all other noise save for the rapid beat of your heart.
With a deafening roar, the bomb plummeted towards the earth like a deadly harbinger of destruction, its descent marked by a piercing shriek that cut through the silence like a knife. As the bomb crashed into the church with a thunderous explosion, the earth shook with the force of its impact, sending shockwaves rippling through the air like ripples on a pond. Glass shattered and metal groaned in protest as the building buckled under the sheer force of the blast, the sound of crumbling masonry echoing through the night like the tolling of a funeral bell.
At an agonisingly slow pace, things settled. Your eyes had started to water, and you had instinctively closed your eyes to shelter yourself away from the bright light, the noise, and the chaos. The fear inside you was growing exponentially. It all happened in seconds. Your heartbeat was racing wildly, and your breath was shallow and erratic when you felt a person's touch. You were confused, and the person kept calling your name, but you couldn't find the strength or courage to look up and see who it was.
"Y/N..." The voice sighed, saddened by your state. Ever so gently, you found yourself enveloped in a warm embrace. You inhaled deeply the scent of the coat in which your face was buried and recognised Aziraphale. His arms encircled you with a sense of unwavering comfort and solace. Your body trembled with the aftershocks of shock, and your mind was reeling from the turmoil of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.
As the angel held you close, you could feel the steady rhythm of his pristine heartbeat echoing against your ear, which was so reassuring. Crowley came closer too, but kept a distance and slowly stroked your. You felt the tension in your muscles begin to ease, the tight knot of fear slowly unravelling under the soothing touch of your friends embrace. In this cocoon, you allowed yourself to take a deep breath and process everything. You weren't used to so much action, preferring to act from afar. With each passing moment, you felt a sense of tranquilly wash over you, like a gentle tide lulling her into a state of calm surrender.
Finally, you regain composure and separate yourself from Aziraphale, while Crowley backs away. "T-Thanks..." You sniffed. The angel simply smiled warmly and kept his hand on your right arm, as if to grant you at least a bit of contact.
He then turned to Crowley. "That was very kind of you." He smiled once more and nodded thankfully.
"Shut up..." He brushed off, putting back his sunglasses, despite the darkness of the night.
"It truly was." You thanked me too. And you saw Crowley lip twitch in an apologetic pout, but you weren't mad at him; you didn't even think you would react like that. "Hey, there'll be no paperwork !" You chuckled.
Aziraphale along with you too, until he realised something. "Oh, the books!" He quickly scanned over the debris but didn't see them. "Oh, I forgot all the books !" You tried to look for the bag too, and apparently so did Crowley. "Oh, they'll all be blown away."
The demon approached us once again, the bag full of books completely untouched. Your eyes widened, and you watched the interaction with a tender gaze.
"A little demonic miracle of my own." Crowley handed it back to Aziraphale, who simply watched, dumbfounded and so, so smitten. You grinned and blushed at the rush of love you felt deep in your heart. "Lift home ?" He offered as if nothing had happened and walked over a black Bentley.
After inhaling deeply and discretely fed on the love, you gasped at the sight of the machine. "You have a car ?!" You chirped and sprinted behind Crowley, while Aziraphale stayed behind. Though the night was far from over, it started incredibly well, 'cause tonight, you'll be able to feast on a whole lot of love!
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 
1967, Soho, London
In the smoky haze of the dimly lit bar, you sat perched on a bar stool, a tumbler of whisky cradled in her hand. The amber liquid glinted in the soft glow of the overhead lights, casting a warm, comforting glow over your features as you took a slow sip, savouring the burn that spread through your chest. You truly enjoyed this new pub, and particularly its name, 'The Dirty Donkey'. Yeah, it always makes your drunken laugh out loud every time you think about it.
For a fleeting moment, you felt a sense of contentment wash over her, the familiar rhythms of the bar providing a sanctuary from the chaos of the outside world. But as you glanced across the room, your gaze fell upon your dear client, Crowley, engaged in a conversation with two humans, causing you to cock a brow. They were moving to a private room, much to your surprise and honest annoyance. Thankfuly, not all your clients were desperatly trying to get themselves in trouble; expect two very specific men.
Groaning, you abandoned your glass on the counter and followed them. And yes, you had no shame in eavesdropping on people. Crowley hunched over the table, his voice low and calm as he exchanged words with the shady couple. Your brows furrowed with concern as you watched the exchange unfold, a sense of unease settling like a stone in the pit of your stomach.
"So, Spike, you're the muscles; you'll be hauling on the ropes." The demon explained it all too professionally.
"And she'll be going down on..." You didn't have time to hear the rest as you felt a presence nearing you. With a gasp, you swiftly put on the blindness, and you reprimand yourself for not thinking of it sooner. A young man walks past you and enters the room. In spite of your desire to follow him, you knew better and focused on spying.
"Who are you ?" A man spoke.
"I understand you need a locksmith." You grew even more confused. Why on Earth would Crowley need help picking up a lock?
You recognised Crowley right away. "I was expecting Mr. Narker."
"Well, Mr. Narker's passed on to his reward. I've taken over the business." The voice was the nearest; you figured it was the youngest. "He was my cellmate. He taught me everything he knew. "You rolled your eyes. Gosh, you hated when you were right.
"My name's Shadwell." You kept focusing; you needed to know what Crowley was planning.
"Please... sit down, Mr. Shadwell."
"Lance Corporal Shadwell. If you don't mind." Unbeknownst to the both of you, Crowley and you shared an unimpressed expression at the man's arrogance.
"So, what's so valuable that they're going to leave it in a church at night?" A more feminine voice inquired.  That was when the truth came crashing down on you. You closed your eyes and sighed. He was still after that god-forsaken holy water. You gritted your teeth in anger, but another emotion overtook your wrath. You truly feared for his safety, knowing that he was treading dangerously close to a path from which there might be no return.
With a sense of determination, you straightened up and marched your way out of the building. You had to talk with Aziraphale now. So, wasting no time, you strolled proudly to the angel's bookshop, which was only a few miles away, and even if it erased any trace of epicness, you rushed in.
Startled, Aziraphale's gaze shot up from his book, and he met you in a near panic. "Oh my Lord, Y/N, don't enter like that." He said it gently while putting down his book.
"Sorry, Az, but it's kind of urgent." You apologised while hurriedly floating his way. "Crowley is in trouble."
He met you half-way, sending you a wave of snowy nights. "What kind of trouble?"
"He's going to rob a church to get holy water!" You cried out, deeply worried, too.
"Oh my God, I cannot believe him!" He exclaimed angrily, still in his polite tone. You sighed and waited for a few minutes, as Aziraphale's footsteps marked the tempo of his passing. It gave you both time to consider the whole situation and what your options were. There was no way you would just stay still without doing anything. But how could you prevent him from putting himself in danger?
That's when you got an idea. It wasn't the best, and you knew you'd have to convince the angel and yourself. Swallowing thickly, you finally took a step towards him and called his name. "Aziraphale ?"
He stopped in his tracks and waited for you expectantly, thinking you had found the solution to all your problems. Your lips formed a thin line before you finally offered him your thoughts. "I know what we agreed on, but... maybe we could trust him."
"What ?" His face had lost all its colour, and he looked at you like you had lost your mind. Which was understandable.
You exhaled and put your hand on his shoulder. "Think about it. What's worse? Has he tried to get the holy water on his own, possibly getting caught or, even worse, splashing himself in the process?" You seeked his eyes to convey how much you believed in your idea.
Aziraphale almost pleaded with you with his eyes. You frowned apologies and smiled softly. You were asking for a lot; he was terrified for his life, and you had just suggested giving him a suicidal pill. However, the angel surprised you once again. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before opening his eyes. "Okay."
A few moments later, you and Aziraphale teleported to Crowley's car. You held tightly to the bottle and hid it on the ground in between your legs. Just at the same time, the demon entered his car, sitting lazily. That's when he felt your presence and turned to you, astounded. "What are you doing here?"
"We needed a word with you." Aziraphale started calmly, with a high reserve.
"What ?" He faked ignorance.
Obviously, it didn't fool you, and you rolled your eyes. "Please, we both work in London; it's hard to miss things." Crowley glanced at you from the rear mirror but didn't say anything.
"And apparently you're setting up a... caper." The angel glanced towards you too, searching for backup. "To rob a church."
You nodded and leaned forward, between their seats. "Crowley, it's too dangerous." But your friend didn't let you influence him and kept looking away.
"Holy water won't just kill your body. It will destroy you completely." Aziraphale added, dread lacing his voice.
"You told me what you think 105 years ago." He snarled lowly, exasperation in the back of his throat.
"And nothing changed." You said it serverly, gripping on the leather seat, gaining Crowley's attention as he turned towards you.
"But... we can't have you risking your life." Though you knew you should have backed out the moment you were added to the equation of 'we', you couldn't just leave. "Not even for something dangerous..." Aziraphale sighed.
"So..." You reached down to the car floor, carefully pulled out the thermos, and slowly handed it to Crowley. His hands shook as he reached to grab it, though you still held onto it.
Aziraphale swallowed thickly and eyed the bottle like a hawk. "You can call off the robbery."
Your fingers met with the demon's as you let go of the bottle. "Watch the cap. Don't unscrew it unless it's your last resort." You warned in a hush voice, afraid the cap might just pop right off it.
"It's the real thing?" Despite his glasses, you can see how incredulous his face was. He held the holy water like a bomb, ready to explode.
"The holiest." Aziraphale was incredibly stiff, and he kept leaning away.
"After everything you said..." he whispered, unable to wrap his mind around the idea of the both of you giving in. "Should I say thank you?"
"Better not..." You smiled.
"Well, can I drop you anywhere?"
"No. Thank you.." Crowley pouted; he really wanted to do something for Aziraphale, but he kept being so stubborn. "Oh, don't look so disappointed. Perhaps one day we could... I don't know." He smiled thoughtfully. "Go for a picnic." He then glanced at you, truly hoping you would accept his next offer. "Dine at the Ritz." He shrugged. You looked down; maybe you were the stubborn one after all.
But Crowley insisted. "I'll give you a lift, anywhere you want to go."
"You go too fast for me, Crowley." Really ? Like, really? You sighed and roughly leaned back on the seat. Aziraphale didn't waste any more time and slipped out without saying another word.
But you could see past the facade of bravado the vulnerability that lurked beneath the surface of Crowley's neutral exterior. So, you reached out to him, making a silent plea for him to not give up. You knew that no matter how fiercely Aziraphale resisted, he would always be there by his side, despite how much he wanted to pull away.
For your part, you stayed, feeling a kind of pull urging you to do so. After spending some time in silence, Crowley spoke up. "Need a life, sweetheart?"
You chuckled and sat back up. "Please..." You observed the wheel for a few seconds before chirping, interrupting his movements. "Can I drive?" You used your big, charming smile.
Crowley glanced your way for a few minutes, contemplating the idea before shrugging. "Sure." He opened his door to switch places. You grinned mischievously and grabbed the stirring wheel tightly.
"I'll give it to you fast, boy." You said that and started the engine. Pray for Crowley's poor heart.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 
2000, Aziraphale's bookshop, London
On your way to meeting Aziraphale and Crowley, you couldn't help but giggle like a little child. You skipped through London, avoiding flying and frightening the sweet baby creature snuggled against my chest. You didn't know such an adorable thing could ever exist, but humans were always full of wonderful surprises! You squeezed your way through the crowd on the busy side walk before finally catching a glimpse of the angel's bookshop.
"Almost there, baby!" You cooed with a big smile and felt her squirm against you. You hurried to cross the street and forcefully pushed the door open with your shoulder. The bell rang loudly, which brought your friends attention to you. Crowley was sitting on the couch, well, more like his body was thrown carelessly on it, whereas Aziraphale was nicely sitting on his big, comfy chair and holding a small device in his hand.
Crowley threw his head back to look at you. "Happy new milenial." He joked with scoff. You smiled brightly and floated towards them, not far away from the ground but enough to not walk down the stairs.
"Hello..." You sang and giggled again until I landed next to the couch. You squeezed the little bundle of joy into your arms. Aziraphale cocked a brow, amused.
"What do you have here, dear?" He smirked, curious. Crowley sat up and looked at you, intrigued as well.
"Oh... nothing..." You chuckled, giggling. Scanning the room for a place to sit, you notice a brand new big divan, which you had never noticed before. "Well, this is new."
Aziraphale got up and took the place next to you. "Indeed, it is." He laughed softly. "It's for you." You looked at him, showing him your disbelief.
"Aw, really?" You asked while approaching the grey van. It had a back, so you didn't have to just lie on it, and it looked really squishy too. You sat down on it and smiled brightly. "Oh, this is great! Thank you.."
The angel dismissed your gratitude with a small gesture. "No need to thank me, dear. "You'd simply like a place to sit on your own."
You smiled gently at him before Crowley spoke up. "What kind of animal is that?" He titled his head to the blanket in your arms as he gave off strong aromas of curiosity and... endermant?
You brushed it off and inhaled deeply. "Gentlemen..." You started trying to set the ambiance. Both of them leaned slightly. "Let me present to you... Eden!" You exclaimed wildly and took off the blanket, reaveling your new baby white dexter mini cow in all her cuteness. She mowed softly as you put her down. She was extremely tiny, with her white coat, black ears, and snoot.
"Oh..." Aziraphale cooed, and you could smell how smitten he was already with her. "She is precious." He affirmed.
Crowley gave off the same scent but still tried to keep up his mocking exterior. "Wow, that's where mini hambergers meat comes from." He teased, his uncovered eyes sparkling with mischief.
You gasped loudly, fakely offended, and went to cover her ears. "Shh, you fool ! She might hear you." Eden mooed and nudged your arm. "I know, baby, he's a meanie." You cooed and kissed her forehead.
"Damn right." He laughed and caressed the mini cow's fur.
"Right, you are absolutely dreadful." Aziraphale rolled his eyes, mocking the gentle behaviour of his friend. Crowley growled but didn't retort anything. "
"Really, you would do that ?" You smiled brightly, earning a chuckle from the angel.
"Of course, you spend so much time here; it would be cruel to leave that poor creature all alone." He tilted his head to the side, inviting you to follow him.
Aziraphale opened a door, right behind all the shelves, in the hidden parts of the bookshop. The room was dusty and crammed with books and antics, from the ground to the ceiling. And despite the library in itself, it was the largest room the bookshop had.
"We'll just put all that into other rooms and upstairs."
You turned to Azirphale, who was making grand movements to explain his whole plan. "It would be its personal stable. He smiled from ear to ear. It truly warmed your heart to see him so involved.
Crowley was leaning against the door frame, holding Eden to his chest. You spotted him and cooed mockingly. "Aren't you a sweetheart?"
He scoffed while petting Eden's head. "Nah, that's your job."
You pursed your lips into a bashful smile before an idea popped into my mind. "Oh, I never thought of what a cow might eat !" You exclaimed, outraged at your ignorance.
"Don't worry, dear, I'm sure I have a book about it somewhere." Aziraphale was reassured, already leaving the room to find it.
You sighed in relief and followed right behind him. It took some time, but you eventually found it and walked back towards the room, leafing through the book. The two of you came to a sudden stop. Everything that was previously in the room was lying on the ground. Aziraphale let out an offended gasp.
"Crowley ?" You called out, midway concerned and amused. "I'm not sure that's how you tidy a room."
The angel was the first to open the door abruptly and stop just as fast. You pressed yourself against him to see what happened to the room. Your eyes widened, your heart quickening, and your eyes flashed pink. "Wow..."
The room, if you still call it that, had enormously enlarged. So much that it actually had an horizon. In the seemingly soft glow of dawn, the meadow unfurled like a tapestry woven with a myriad of colors. Dew-kissed grasses shimmered with a silvery sheen as they swayed gently in the early morning breeze. A symphony of bird songs filled the air, weaving melodies that danced among the fragrant blooms.
Clusters of wildflowers adorned the landscape, painting the meadow a kaleidoscope of hues. Sun-kissed daisies nodded their heads in greeting, and their cheerful faces turned towards the rising sun. Delicate lavender blossoms released their sweet, intoxicating fragrance, mingling with the earthy scent of fresh grass and damp soil.
Water streams meandered lazily through the meadow, their crystal-clear waters glinting in the golden light. They carved sinuous paths among the greenery, creating small, tranquil pools where dragonflies darted and frogs sang their morning serenades. Butterflies flitted from flower to flower, their delicate wings shimmering like stained glass in the sunlight. Bees hummed busily, collecting nectar from the blooms and adding their gentle buzz to the symphony of nature's orchestra.
The ceiling—no, the sky—wasn't entirely blue, but it reminded you of a gentle summer morning. Just the softest warmth. We slowly walked into the landscape, afraid to disrupt it. The thick grass felt mellow under your feet, and you couldn't resist kicking off your shoes to feel it yourself. Aziraphale chuckles, joining the sweet sounds of birds and the running water.
"This is amazing !" You laughed in disbelief and utter joy, twirling around, taking in everything this beautiful place had to offer. The ground was now the last thing on your mind, and you took off in the air, floating around like a cherub.
"I can't believe Crowley did all this in such a short amount of time." Aziraphale backed up, caressing the petals of a Jack Rose.
You chuckled and floated in a circle around him. "Where do you think he is ?" Your eyes scanned the area, and you spotted him beyond a field of yarrows, answering your own question. "There ! C'mon !" You landed abruptly next to Aziraphale and took his arm, hurrying him to climb up the small hill.
Crowley was sitting underneath a tree that bore the colours of a pink cherry tree, but the lazy branches resembled those of a weeping willow. Eden quiet moos caused you to smile and rush the final feet, seperating you from the two of them. The demon smiled almost smugly at your arrival, and you responded with a bright grin.
"This incredible..." You panted a bit and roughly let yourself fall on your back, on the grass. Aziraphale chuckled and miracled a blanket under the four of you. A comfortable hum came out instinctively, and you completely laid on the ground. With a happy coo, Eden waddled her way and rested her head on your stomach. Aziraphale sat down as well, crossed his legs, and congratulated Crowley on his work.
"Now, this is a wonderful place to have a picnic." Aziraphale sighed and rested back on his arms. You chuckled and laid down on the blanket. Eden's weight left a comfortable pressure on your chest. Staring at the sunny sky through the pink brenches of the tree, the scent of heliotrope embraces your entire being.
You never knew what heliotrope was meant to represent, despite how many times you asked Mihael about its meaning. All she ever gave you as an answer was a cheeky smile and a shrug. So, you didn't ask further. And right now, all you wanted to do was bask in the scent and never leave this meadow.
Or its inhabitants. For anything in the world.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 
There... Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to sleep U,w,U
Hope you liked it, I put extra details for you to enjoy ! Now let's hope Y/N | Balael will be and about in the next chapter, 'cause they're running out of time ;)
And if they're any errors like a lot 'I's instead of 'You's please let me know ^^
Bye bye !
Parts : First - Previous - Next
Masterlist : Here
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Tsu’tey
Good loving
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Tìtunu
Tìyawn/Ve’kì
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Never a burden
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autisticlancemcclain · 9 months
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part one
———
They’re not careless.
But they’re not careful, either.
They’ve never bothered discussing whether or not they’re trying to be discreet. It was always just the natural way they went about things. Their friends already have so much to worry about, so much to reckon with. It’s a waste of their limited time to sit them down and announce to them that they’re — what, sleeping together?
This is what Keith tells himself.
He sees the hurt in Lance’s eyes, when he flinches away from his touch. He knows it’s worse still because he is an instigator, because he is so fucking incapable of keeping his hands to himself. His palm will find the small of Lance’s back like a magnet to steel, his shoulder will soften itself so Lance can rest his head. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, half the time, doesn’t notice the way he seeks out Lance’s hand or crowds too close to him until he catches someone’s eye, watching them, and springs apart, flings Lance’s away from him like he’s been burned.
I love you.
Isn’t that reason enough?
In the morning Keith wakes up sweltering. In the back of his mind, as it always does, burns the skin-crawling feeling of being watched. There’s no one in the bedroom and he knows it, but shame runs down his spine anyway. Suddenly the blankets twisting his and Lance’s legs together are binding, and the press of their sweat-slick skin tigger is revolting, sticky. The nausea that churns lowly in his belly at all times bubbles infinitely more aggressively than usual, and Keith knows if he doesn’t extract himself immediately he’ll explode; chunks of him will hit the walls and his blood will paint the tile floor. He inches under his skin, bile coats the back of his throat, heart pounding so fast it’s a him.
A low, quiet quiet groaning noise startled the hell out of him. He looks over and Lance is shifting, sliding his arms out from under the pillow and turning slightly, so he’s facing Keith instead of the wall, hands curled into his chest and under his chin.
There’s a pillow crease steamed across his cheek, and his face is smushed by the pillow, forcing his lips to pucker.
Keith smiles.
The roaring in his head quiets somewhat. Without thinking he reaches out his hand, fingertips tracing the creased skin of Lance’s cheek so lightly he hardly touches with anything more than his callouses. His skin is warm to the touch, but not overly so.
Keith lets out a long, hard breath. His heart rate slows. He traces the pucker of Lance’s lip, feeling the curve of his cupid’s bow, noting the tiny scars from where Lance picks the skin when he’s bored or nervous.
Slowly, as if a string is pulling them together, Keith leans down. Somewhere between his pillow and Lance’s his eyes close, and the press of their lips is that much softer.
It should be gross. They both have morning breath, and minutes ago the thought of their bare skin touching made Keith want to throw up, but now the press of Lance’s chapped lips to his is addicting and calming and electrifying.
“Mmf.”
Lance stirs, groggy and half awake, but it’s — this is not the first time he’s woken to Keith’s closeness.
It takes him a few seconds to boot up, for his brain to catch up with the way his hands are already sliding up the back of Keith’s neck, tangling in his hair. Keith knows he’s awake when he feels the flutter of Lance’s absurdly long eyelashes against his cheekbones, when his mouth stretches into a grin too wide to kiss properly.
“Hi,” he mumbles happily. He keeps one hand on the base of Keith’s skull, letting the other one slide coyly down the curve of his shoulder, the dip of his chest, the line of hair under his navel, resting cheekily on the top of his waistband. Every brush of his fingers washes away the burn shame still lingering. “You’re touchy this morning.”
Keith hums. He presses his lips to the corner of Lance’s mouth, to his cheek, to his jaw, down his neck. His stubble must be too light on Lance’s skin because he laughs, airy, smacking his palm on Keith’s scapula. Keith snickers, rubbing his cheek harder along his neck just to make him shriek, revelling in the way Lance wraps his legs around his hips to try and flip him but can’t, the way he shoves and pinches but lets up the second Keith starts to suck a bruise on his collarbone.
He’s so easy.
“Keith,” Lance whines, but it’s breathy and Keith wants to swallow to sound. “Keith, we’re disgusting. Your breath stinks and if I don’t shower I’m going to hurt somebody. Probably you. Do you want me to hurt you?”
Keith reaches up, pressing Lance’s fingers deeper into the flesh of his shoulder, and lets his silence speak for him.
Lance snorts, and Keith knows he has him because he melts visibly. “You dog.”
The hand in Keith’s hair starts to move, combing through the tangled strands, scratching gently at his scalp. Keith doesn’t let up, but he softens in kind, letting his lips on Lance’s skin morph into something softer, more chaste.
“We can screw in the shower?” he offers, voice hopeful. “That’s a good compromise.”
It is a good compromise, but Keith is feeling bold (i love you isn’t that reason enough it’s physical you have ruined everyone you ever loved it’s physical it’s physical it’s physical), so he sets out to guarantee Lance will bend.
He pulls away from Lance’s neck, just slightly, and looks up from under his lashes, widening his eyes just so.
And watched with great pleasure as Lance crumbles.
He shoves Keith’s face away, red-cheeked and huffy, throwing off the covers and stomping to the ensuite. He grumbles all the way there, much of it too low for Keith to hear but much more of it loud and pointed and intentional (Keith knows what zorra means, thanks.)
“I want to actually shower,” Lance says sternly, water droplets flicking off his wagging finger and landing on Keith’s nose.
Keith nods sagely. “We will.”
“In decent time, Akira.”
“Of course.”
“I have stuff to do today.”
“Me too.”
“Minimal shenanigans.”
“Minute.”
The shower lasts well over an hour.
“Wipe the smirk off your face,” Lance demands, but his lips are twitching, too,
Keith grabs him by the waist and dips him, laughing, kissing him soundly and wholly and he wonders what the fuck is his problem. He wonders why he has to be so goddamn resistant to things, why he works himself up so bad, why any of that shit matters. Why can’t he have this? Why can’t he have — one good thing, the one; why can’t he have Lance’s gun-calloused palms on his cheeks and smile pressed to his and deep dark brown eyes warm and pretty and happy and pointed at him? Why can’t he have that? Why can’t things be good and simple, why can’t this be something he can fall into?
I love you.
Isn’t that reason enough?
He’s not careless. He can’t afford to be.
But he’s — loosened. His guard is down. They get dressed and ready for the day and Keith follows Lance out their door and he’s laughing, and his hand is curled around the curve of his waist, and they smell of the same shampoo.
“Does it amuse you to make me late for things, you jackass — oh! Hunk!”
Keith inhales sharp and short. He yanks his hand away like it hurts to keep it there for a second longer, stumbling backwards.
“Hey, guys.”
Something tight and painful coils in his stomach, and his blood turns to lead. Hunk’s expression is carefully, carefully pleasant; soft, even, as he returns Lance’s hug and greeting.
But the pinprick at the back of his neck is back. The shame, hot, crawls down his spine, blooms heavy in the hollow of his chest.
“I’m gonna go — train,” he chokes out, hyperaware of the bruise on Lance’s neck, of the cobweb in the corner of his room, the braid in Keith’s hair; hyperaware of Hunk’s eye on them.
“Aw,” Lance pouts. “You sure?”
Keith can’t manage a verbal response. His throat has closed, aching, dry, desolate. He barely manages a nod.
“We’ll see you at dinner?” Hunk asks, only there’s no request in his voice, and Keith doesn’t miss how his body has curved, slightly; just barely nudging Lance behind him, as if he is to be protected, as if he is to be protected from Keith.
I love you.
You have ruined everything you have ever loved.
Isn’t that reason enough?
Physical, physical, physical.
Keith turns and flees.
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Note
I saw your requests are open! I would LOVE to see Alfie with number 8, “I want to see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.” 🥵
I’m all about dark too if you feel like it. Thank you! 😊
Can do, one order of Alfie with a large side of dark!
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Warnings - Dark!Alfie & smut below the cut. Minors DNI.
The wood emits an odour of damp, the drips from the leaky pipe above it moistening the surface, adding to the overall old, musky fragrance of the cellar. Long ago, it was used for storing wines of the finest vintage, but now the space serves as something else entirely.
The leaky pipe continually drips onto the beam above, your hands and wrists wet, yet not enough for you to struggle free from your rope bindings. How many years does it take wood to rot, you wonder at times. One snapped beam would equal your freedom.
Would you truly want to leave here, though? That would of course mean leaving him.
He might be the one who keeps you in this state of torment, but imagining a life without it is perhaps bleaker than the surroundings you're held prisoner within. Who and what would you be, if not Alfie's plaything?
The sound of heavy footfalls creaking the floorboards above signals his impending appearance, the creaky cellar door opening, the lamp he carries with him finally bringing a little illumination into the darkened space.
He descends the stairs carefully, sniffing, clearing his throat, the scent of him cutting through the musk and the dust, Alfie placing the lamp down on the table.
"'Ello, poppet. Want me to let ya down for a bit, do ya?"
You nod. "Yes, sir." You used to cuss him out, spit in his face, kick him, bite him, but now you know, it all goes a lot more smoothly if you show what he demands. Obedience.
"Good. Right, come on, then. Let's get this rope undied, yeah." Reaching to the hook connected to the upright support strut, he unwinds it, the tension slowly slipping from your wrists and arms as the tightness is loosened. He only lets you go when he has use for you. Falling asleep standing up has become a talent you have mastered, although your weary bones ache for a bed.
Walking to you, he watches as you shake a little life back into your arms, your bindings still tight, the rope that once tied you to the beam above shaking gently. "Still pretty, ain't ya? Bit pale, though. Then again, I suppose ya would be for not seein' no sunshine for a couple 'a months, innit?"
His chuckle, all foreboding grit and rumbling darkness, sets your skin on edge. It's thrill laced with trepidation, an exotic, potent mix, goose pimples rising as your blood begins to run hotter, Alfie reaching for your face. His thumb skims your cupid's bow, eyes touring you as he leans in close.
He smells of rum and deviance, his breath warm where it flutters against your cheek. “I want to see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”
You know exactly how to oblige him, sinking to your knees, waiting patiently as he unfastens his trousers. You can already see the outline of his colossal erection through the black fabric swathing it, your captor pulling himself free, pumping his bulky shaft in a gold ring-adorned grip a few times before steering it to your mouth. "Open wide, love. Yeah, that's a good girl."
He shows no mercy, pushing forth between your lips, his hand fisting in your hair and making you take every last, fat inch of him. You choke him down, sucking gently to begin with, your tongue working the underside of his shaft as he slips back and forth.
The wet heat encasing him has him grunting deeply, cock twitching against your tongue. "Yeah, darlin'. You suck cock like a good'un, don't ya?" He moves faster, fucking your mouth with greater purpose, the need to spill into your throat consuming him.
It never takes too long, your mouth just too delicious an outlet for him, the thrill of knowing he's using you as nothing more than a mere toy adding to the ecstasy that rockets through him. He spurts thick and plentiful onto the back of your tongue, his cum dripping down your throat, his eyes two shards glittering at you through the low light.
It's the sight of him above you like that which burns itself into your brain, keeps you warm and lit up when the illumination is gone, when he's tied you up again and left you all alone in the dark once more.
Sometimes, it's in the darkness where we find the light. You understand only too well that Alfie's darkness is absolutely no exception.
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tonightwrites · 5 months
Text
Yandere husband Emperor PT 2
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The intrigue turned into amusement at the young man's attempts for her attention. He did anything to catch her eye. Did anything she asked as soon as she asked it. The princess wondered how far he would go for her.
Allarick felt at peace with her. He wanted to be around her constantly. Acting as if there was a collar on him with a leash that the princess would hold. He thought of how beautiful she would look on that throne instead of her annoying father. Oh if she gave the word he would put her on that pretty seat and never let anyone else take it from her. Give her a true physical leash to bind them together.
It started with seeing each other at the balls and galas that the Emperor would hold for various occasions. He followed the breathtaking princess to the food tables and filled her plate with things she seemed to enjoy. Once when she dropped a piece of cookie and got an idea.
"Allarick.. since you got this cookie for me it would seem like such a waste to throw it away." She turned her gaze towards the man. He froze, he didn't expect to hear his name from her lips, even though his name is actually Allerick. He made a note to change his name after this gala. "Why don't you eat it? "
"My lovely lady it would be my honor please allow me too." He responded without hesitation. Got on his hands and knees to pick it up off the ground and eat the precious treat his beloved had given him. He hasn't done anything yet and she has rewarded him with the cookie she had taken a bite of. How lucky he was tonight!
The princess looked taken aback. She expected him to grow red in the face out of anger not adoration. She wanted to rid this man from wanting the emperor position. However... maybe him being her lap dog could be better than any "husband" her father tried to pair her with. "good boy." she handed him a paper handkerchief with writing on it. Only to leave for her room.
His whole body shuddered at the name she called him. He is a good boy for her... only her. He opened the handkerchief.
'I'll Leave My Window Unlocked Tonight After This Gala.'
Taglist : 1. @zanary 2. @meforpr3sident 3. @yandere-dark-cupid 4. @devils-blackrose 5. @gallantys 6.@eliciana 7.@ayolk 8.@gayfagdownthestreet 9.@hope-thehooker 10.@reallysparklychaos 11.@deepdinosaurwizard 12.@ana-dear 13.@laylasbunbunny 14.@heavenlayt 15.@redrosetrappola 16. @skull-centric 17. @wannapizzamymindposts 18. @pinkrose1422
Masterlist~
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lostlosersclub · 2 months
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So. Nico Di Angelo HCs :>
ANSBDJDJJ GLADLY!!
be prepared for so much projection
ok so:
• nico is trans, and came out to bianca during the lotus casino. she helped him cut his hair afterwards
• he is also autistic and had a special interest in mythomagic for a long time
• part of why hes not great at interacting with others is the autism
• oh right just bc i say so he also has ocd, ptsd, anxiety, panic disorder, and depression
• hades was always very accepting. i just feel like he would give nico a binder while he was on his own
• binds for way too long. will (who is also trans btw) lectures him on binder safety daily
• he is also physically disabled from his powers. i hc him as using mobility aids. i also hc him as having a hellhound service dog when hes older
• he is often described as twisting his skull ring in the books, so i say that its him fidgeting and stimming discreetly
• favorite fruit is pomegranate
• had an especially hard time grasping the fact that hes gay because he felt guilty for being trans
• when he was outed, cupid also outed him as trans. when jason was the only one who knew, jason would pull him aside to check that he was binding safely
• listens to emo music but less like mcr and stuff hes more of a midwest emo listener
• always wears tons of jewelry like rings and necklaces because he likes fidgeting with them
• wears headphones around his neck for sensory issues, but also to block out the voices of the dead
• has very light freckles and a mole right under his right eye
• goes nonverbal when super stressed out and is prone to panic attacks
• get sunburnt very easily
• lets his hair grow out a bit to around shoulder length once he accepts himself for being trans and gay
• got his ears pierced when he was little, and kept them in to this day
• got more piercings as he got older
• got a star tattoo to match will
sorry this is so long im very passionate about my boy
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