#fluff 2

Mammon x MC (featuring Luke)

2. "You're jealous aren't you?" "I'm not jealous."

MC sits with Luked wrapped up in their arms. The young angel rests against their chest as his breath slows and he begins to fall asleep.

Mammon on the other hand, is standing across the room glowering at the pair. Quiet grumbles can be distinctly heard as he kicks his foot against the carpet.

Eventually, MC lays Luke on their bed, ushering Mammon out with them as they quietly close the door.

"I don't get why you gotta take car of that brat?" Mammon continues to grumble.

MC looks at him disapprovingly, "Because he is having a fight with Simeon. He is just a kid and he needs some love."

Mammon scoffs, "Other people need love too! You shouldn't just give it all to him because he's small!"

MC's upset looks slowly morphs into a smirk as the stare at Mammon.

"You're jealous aren't you?" MC's tone is teasing as they stare at him

Mammon's face burns as he turns his back to them before answering, "I'm not jealous."

MC walks around to look at his embarrassed face once again, "You know, if you wanted me to baby you, all you had to do was ask." Their eyes have a mischievous glint as they watch Mammon jump back even more embarrassed.

"I could run my fingers through your hair, hold you close to my chest, and sing you to sleep. Or if that isn't your speed, I could make you dinner, bring it to you in bed and hand feed it to you. Or maybe your more inclined to-"

Mammon shuts his eyes tightly as he yells, "Yes!"

It is silent for a second as Mammon builds up his courage to say more. He swallows and continues, "Yes, all of it. Any of it. Anything you will give me. Please... Please baby me..."

When Mammon says his last few words, he sneaks a glance at MC to see them blushing just as much as he is. Slowly their face grows into a smile as they wrap their arms around them.

"Of course. Anything for my Mammon baby." They begin to lean up to kiss his cheek when the voice of Luke interrupts him.

"MC where did you go?"

Upon hearing Luke, MC pats Mammon's chest, "Maybe later..." before they disappear back into their room.

Mammon mutters, "That damn brat!"

“Am I right in thinking I’m addressing the Signless, also known, however problematically, as the Sufferer?”

His expression gets even harder to read. “So they tell me.”

“Excellent,” you say, because it is excellent that you have this opportunity, and it would be a failure of you as a leader and as an activist to let it slip away. “I’m delighted for this opportunity to engage in dialogue with you. As you may know, you have become a figure of reverence for many people, both in your iteration of the revised universe as well as those of my cohort in the pre-Scratch one. As such, I feel that you have a responsibility to your ‘followers,’ if you will, to examine your methodology in greater depth, with an eye towards the, well, I don't like to use the term ‘problematic’ lightly, and while I quite respect and even agree with your goals of peace, equality, and a truly spectrablind society, it seems to me that you might wish to consider whether the effects of some of your tactics not only reinforced the, ah, very power structure that you, at least on the face of it, were attempting to subvert, but also, perhaps contradictorily, and I by no means mean to imply that this was your intention, by your very, ah, so-called ‘Last Sermon,’ may have actually reinforced the very violence, both, ah, verbal as well of course as the unfortunate physical, tactics which are so often used to reinforce privilege in both of our universes.”

He stares at you for a long moment, and you would take advantage of this listening pause to continue your lecture, but you find yourself unaccountably lost for words, unable to remember clearly the narrative arc of the argument, despite all your past brainstorming on the topic. “Kid,” he says, finally, “who the fuck are you talking to?”

Fanfic Rec: “Pr96lematics,” by gaudior.

Fluff: ++

Angst: ++++

Smut: +

Overall Subjective Rating: ++++

Read it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1106525

Solomon x MC (featuring Simeon)

1. "You smile like an idiot when you are talking to them."

2. "You're jealous aren't you?" "I'm not jealous."

MC stands in front of Solomon talking happily about a new project. In all seriousness, Solomon hasn't heard a word. He is just staring at how MC's face contorts looking more and more attractive with every new word.

"So is that a yes?" Their voice finally cuts through his thoughts as their mouth stops moving and thie eyes focus solely on him.

"Yeah, of course..." He looked at them, and smiled confidently. Completely unaware of what he signed up for.

"Wonderful! Oh Asmo! Wait up! See you, Solomon!" MC runs off and he watches as they run up to Asmo in the courtyard.

Simeon comes up behind him and nudges his shoulder, "You smile like an idiot when you are talking to them." His smirk is evident on his face.

Solomon shoves him back, "Sure I do." He stares back at the pair. Asmo tightly wraps his arms around MC as they start to laugh hysterically.

Simeon sees a scowl begin to cross Solomon's face and laughs, "You're jealous aren't you?" His smirk is now even more teasing then the last one.

Solomon huffs, "I'm not jealous."

Simeon continues smirking as he taunts the sorcerer, "Oh really? Then why don't you ask them out already?"

Solomon's face begins to burn as a surge of confidence washes over him, "Maybe I will."

Quickly Solomon marches over to MC and Asmo before stopping in front of the pair that is now staring at him.

"Oh hi Solo-" MC begins to speak, but he cuts them off, "MC will you go out with me?"

MC blushes and starts to giggle before leaving Asmo's embrace to stand in front of Solomon, "Solomon... that is what I asked you earlier..."

His face fills with crimson as they continue to giggle and kiss him on the cheek... he really needs to start listening to them...

Sitting there in the snow, he didn't notice the approaching person until the crunch of snow beneath boots filled his ears. Scrambling up, the boy thought for a moment maybe it was the dark-haired man from the East; but he quickly realized it could not be as he came closer and Russia saw how tall this other was. Fear swelling in his young heart, he made to run. However, before he could take his first step, a man's voice asked;

"You are me, da?"

“If I could (I’d be There),” by thatoneeccedentesiast. Young aph Russia meets old aph Russia in the snow.

Fluff: ++

Angst: ++

Smut: +

Overall Subjective Rating: +++

Read it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1491967

Dying for an angel is a pretty ridiculous way to die, Crowley decides.

It's at that point that he realizes he's no longer laying on a patchwork quilt, and there's no awkward bedsprings digging into his back. Neither is there the smell of hot cocoa permeating the air or mid-afternoon sun striping through the window at his side. There is no vicious pain in his chest, no ache spreading through his bones, no poison coursing through his veins. There is no careful hand mopping his brow, no comforting words close to his ear, and no Aziraphale.

There is nothing. Just endless white blankness stretching for miles in all directions. There is no sound and no sight, no smell or taste and when he looks down, he realizes that even he isn't actually there.

The only explanation that he can come up with is that the bullet has finally fulfilled its purpose and he is, in fact, dead. But then he can't have died, because his death will only result in being thrown into the deepest pits of Hell and unless those responsible for eternal torture and suchlike have grown a twisted sense of humour since he last spoke with them, this is not the deepest pit of Hell.

Either that, or they've been redecorating.

Fanfic Rec: “the death of anthony j crowley,” by acetamide.

Fluff: ++

Angst: ++++

Smut: +

Overall Subjective Rating: ++++

Read it here: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/5423332/1/the-death-of-anthony-j-crowley

•Worlds purest boy is still pure and loves his boyfriend

•Mermaid things themed after a dolphin and a lantern fish are adorable

And then