#matchfly

Imagine you’re a strange little demonic fly. Just a little demonic fly who purpose is to store stuff for your Lord. One day, you’re Lord decides to gift you to their boyfriend. Ok ok cool, you’re just chilling in a matchbox, doesn’t matter because you’re a demonic fly and don’t need to eat, apparently. Or maybe Gabriel takes a trip down to earth every now and then to feed you. Then, one day, your Lord’s boyfriend actually uses you to store stuff. His memories.

you

a silly little fly

get 6000 years worth of ethereal knowledge slammed into your tiny, tiny brain.

You follow your Lord’s boyf around for two reasons.

The part of him in you feels a pull towards him.

You desperately want him to take back the memories. A fly, regardless of whether or not they are of demonic origins or were made to store things, is not meant to have this much supernatural, existential knowledge.

now, what happens when you wait, desperately, for him to take the memories back?

he fucking slams books in your general direction.

Of course, you are no ordinary housefly, so you make it. But the disrespect.