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@angelicintention
❀ ﹑ welcome! ⺌ ﹔
: ̗̀➛ Hi, earthlings! Welcome to my blog! I hope you enjoy having me and my fiancé around.. it means a lot. We're friendly, I promise..
. ・❥・Reblogs & Magic Anons are welcome! Ask away!
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Azriel and Xen both use he/him — keep that in mind!
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Azriel is an angel, while Xen is from the underworld.(making him a demon.)
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ They're engaged! Soon to be married.. I think. Time will tell.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Xen's text is red, Azriel's is pink— mod text will be orange!
Happy pride, you two ! ^o^
Oh, thank you anon! Happy pride month to you too! Freely express your identities, and be yourself!
Thanks. Happy pride month to you.
Hot.
It was so unbearably hot in their living space.
The windows were cracked open, a small breeze blowing through the room, but not enough – Xen was hunched over, a fan directly in front of him, while Azriel was draped over the couch, melting into it, or rather, letting the heat consume him entirely.
It was way too hot.
"I'm gonnna burrrrrn..." Azriel would groan into the humid air, a hand fanning his face, then slowly turning his head over to Xen, who looked like he wasn't even listening.
"What?" He mumbled, his brows lowered, sweat pooling down him. "I don't know what you just said."
It was hot.
Way too hot.
Can we know some fun facts!! ^o^
I don't see the harm in that. It's not like the people know much about us.
Not that I'm aware of.
Err.. I like to paint sometimes. They aren't art gallery worthy, but it helps me manage my stress. I usually paint landscapes, sometimes just basic things like fruit.. they aren't very interesting.
There's some on our wall!
Is that a fun fact? I don't know if that's fun.
Of course it is, Xen.
Oooh, my turn, my turn!
Ummm.. let's see.. a fun fact about me... well.. err..
You don't have one?
I do! Just.. can't think of one..
Life update?
Hmmmm?
A life update.. I don't see the harm in one of those! Of course I'll update you, anon!
Not by myself, of course.
Yeah, yeah, I'm here.
Things have been pretty good on our end. At least I think so. Xen and I are still working the same jobs, no changes there.. but Xen's workplace got a new building! It's much bigger now, and waaaay more spacious. I'm kind of jealous considering how small my workplace is.
Then again, I get the discount on the frozen yoghurt, he doesn't. Technically I win in this situation.
Sure.
Err.. it is bigger, I guess. Two floors now rather than one, and a fancy spiral staircase to the top floor. I didn't think we were ever going to upgrade, but it's.. cool, I guess.
Work has been the same other than that. We have been putting the money towards making our place a little more homely, though. It's not as empty as it was when we first settled into this building.
Nobody typically visits. Not because we don't want them to, but because we haven't really.. let anyone know where we live.
Friends wise.
Mm.. we will soon, when it looks nice! Besides, we're planning on getting a–
We didn't agree on that.
Oh. Nevermind, then..
Umm, on our days off.. we sleep in a lot. Sometimes we go to different places nearby, but sometimes a car seems convenient. Using my wings makes my back hurt.. and Xen can barely get off the ground.
I don't like planes either.
We're doing okay, is the shorter version of all that. No inconveniences, or anything.. not that I know of, but thanks for asking!
That's really it. I don't think we've had any issues.
.
The kitchen was nothing but a mess. Sure, it wasn't like they didn't know how to bake – it was more so they didn't know how to keep the place intact when they did so.
Xen stood in front of the oven, flour on his face, dough sticking to his arms and potentially his horns – as he glanced at Azriel, who was fiddling around with the mixer they'd broken in the process of baking.
"Don't let it burn," he frowned, words mumbled as he tried to fix the damn machine, brows furrowed out of annoyance, "I liked how the cake looked."
Xen could only huff in response. A playful huff, not one out of hostility, "It's not gonna burn if I'm watching it carefully."
He made a point, Azriel thought.
Though, clearly, that wasn't the case. Within the twenty minutes it took for the cake to actually bake into something edible, both of them had found themselves distracted with miscellaneous activities throughout the duration.
Whether it be cleaning the dishes, or wandering off to the hallway to clean up the trail of flour.. maybe it was the beeping noise coming from another room – clearly, nobody was watching it well enough.
So, it burned.
Of course it did.
🐁
Oh! It’s a good thing I returned here because I assume this is the rat that the other is bonded with…Or at least, will be bonded with.
Grenade goes inside to get a bag, locks their door, puts the key inside of the bag and picks up the rat. It seems like an unnecessary procedure to just go to the pet store a couple of blocks away, but NewCounty is in America, so you can never be too sure. It is also very crime-ridden. They certainly wouldn’t want a “visit” from R, or their fellow explosive resident Dynamite to find that their abode had been raided and all of their belongings including pets and miniature globes have been stolen. Rats in hand, they walk to the pet store and, turning their back towards the door (because they have one rat per hand), push the door open.
( @zombieefish )
( this is being reblogged here ummmm because. TV can reside on this blog for now.. )
The place isn't busy, but it's not empty. Mainly a few children making a fuss over the hamsters, some having their hands up against the glass of the fish tanks, childish wonder filling their gazes.
There's four workers that can be seen. One is standing at the front door, and greets Grenade as they enter, before getting rushed off to go help a customer. The other two are working the registers – and then, the help desk.
TV is sitting at the help desk. Keys click mindlessly, the screen of the computer bright, but not brighter than the lights in the building – which were a fluorescent white, highlighting the tiled flooring.
.. now, the help desk would be the logical decision. But with the way more people started to flood in, it seemed difficult to even see the help desk.
Grenade reciprocated the greeting to the employee before witnessing them rush off, taking this as an opportunity to take in the environment. They have never been here before as, while they have cats, they only buy food overseas (via some online platform), and by extension cat bowls, toys, etc. This, however, causes them to realize that the childish wonder occurring adds to the charm of this place, and because the atmosphere is overall nice, they should come here more often if they could find what they need for cheap. Just not food. Germany supposedly has the best food for animals and they weren’t going to take any chances..
Grenade wasn’t here to buy anything though. They were here to present these two rats. They walk past the register and spot TV, before the view of the help desk was obscured, and it occurred to them that it would be rather difficult to reach the desk. However, because that was exactly what they were there for, and TV is the only person they know here (presumably, if not the person they know best there) they were determined to get through to that desk. They push through a crowd of objects, repeatedly begging pardon. At last, after having to pass by all of those people, they make it to the help desk. Out of breath, they promptly begin to explain the situation and set the two rats down on the desk.
T.V.! Hi! I forgot that you worked here!
I was wondering if I could…present these rats to you. Some anon gave them to me. I think..they might be bonded. I can’t take care of them. Is there anything you can do?
She looks up, and her smile widens – she didn't expect to see a familiar face this early in the day.. or, maybe it's just because she doesn't see many of them until she gets home, or stops by the library.
"Grenade, Hi!" A small wave, as she clicks with her mouse, but her attention is still on her friend, or rather in this situation, the customer with a concern. Her brow raises at the animals.
"Rats." A pause, before taking a breath in, and sighing. "I think we have a few spare cages in the back, or something.. but other than that, I'm not sure what else I could do."
She turns to her co-worker, the same one who was at the door. "Hot Chocolate, what exactly do we do with rats that have been.. brought in?"
The sound of chewing gum came to a halt. He turned to face her, their arms crossed at the statement. "We give the rescue people a call. The shelter. They're far from here, but y'know,"
TV give a thumbs up, her way of saying thank you, as she turns back to Grenade. "What she said. We'll take them for now, obviously, but it's nice that you brought them here safely!"
🐁
Oh! It’s a good thing I returned here because I assume this is the rat that the other is bonded with…Or at least, will be bonded with.
Grenade goes inside to get a bag, locks their door, puts the key inside of the bag and picks up the rat. It seems like an unnecessary procedure to just go to the pet store a couple of blocks away, but NewCounty is in America, so you can never be too sure. It is also very crime-ridden. They certainly wouldn’t want a “visit” from R, or their fellow explosive resident Dynamite to find that their abode had been raided and all of their belongings including pets and miniature globes have been stolen. Rats in hand, they walk to the pet store and, turning their back towards the door (because they have one rat per hand), push the door open.
( @zombieefish )
( this is being reblogged here ummmm because. TV can reside on this blog for now.. )
The place isn't busy, but it's not empty. Mainly a few children making a fuss over the hamsters, some having their hands up against the glass of the fish tanks, childish wonder filling their gazes.
There's four workers that can be seen. One is standing at the front door, and greets Grenade as they enter, before getting rushed off to go help a customer. The other two are working the registers – and then, the help desk.
TV is sitting at the help desk. Keys click mindlessly, the screen of the computer bright, but not brighter than the lights in the building – which were a fluorescent white, highlighting the tiled flooring.
.. now, the help desk would be the logical decision. But with the way more people started to flood in, it seemed difficult to even see the help desk.
There is a knocking at their front door. I, as narrator, don’t know if there’s a doorbell, so I will have to resort to this. The visitor is none other than Grenade, holding—or trying to hold—a squirmy rat in the palms of their hands.
[ The handle on the front door begins to rattle, dare I say, shaking the door entirely – as the sound of a lock clicking rings out into the air, and the door swings open. ]
"Can we help you?"
He pauses and looks the individual up and down with a raised brow. He's got an apron on, a muddy green, while there's flour on his nose.
"Ooh, who is it, who is it?" A voice from the background, the clash of pots and pans one of the more.. prominent noises.
".. what's with the rat?"
They are completely frightened by the vigor that Xen used to open the door, but still give a wave “hello” with a free hand.
I see I probably came at the wrong time…uhm…Well, you see…An anon just gave me this rat, but I’m not equipped to take care of it. I was wondering if you knew any animal shelters? I know you’ve been in NewCounty for a shorter time than I have, but I’ve never seen any and I figured maybe there would be one near the record store at which you work.
"Animal shelters," He purses his lips, furrowing his brow in thought. Slowly, the realisation comes to him when he thinks about the place, a grimace on his face.
"Turn left when you approach the record store. You'll see a big, green building with a paw-print sign on the door."
"Xeeeeen, the blender won't turn off!" A yell, then the sound of whirring and something beeping could be heard. He groaned.
"Talk to the lady at the counter. She's got an attitude, the damn witch." The last part was murmured, as he turned to face the hallway. "I'm coming, give me a minute!"
Xen turned back. "If you can't find it, there's probably someone around who can help."
There is a knocking at their front door. I, as narrator, don’t know if there’s a doorbell, so I will have to resort to this. The visitor is none other than Grenade, holding—or trying to hold—a squirmy rat in the palms of their hands.
[ The handle on the front door begins to rattle, dare I say, shaking the door entirely – as the sound of a lock clicking rings out into the air, and the door swings open. ]
"Can we help you?"
He pauses and looks the individual up and down with a raised brow. He's got an apron on, a muddy green, while there's flour on his nose.
"Ooh, who is it, who is it?" A voice from the background, the clash of pots and pans one of the more.. prominent noises.
".. what's with the rat?"
get out of bed
You can't break the fourth wall by interaction! Get away!
.. what?
Go back to bed.
The two of them started each morning the same way. Azriel would be the one to roll over, light pouring against his face through the thin gap of the curtains which were purposefully left open to secure the familiar image – while an arm would usually hook around his partners waist to find comfort.
Laying there, in the silence of the morning, the only thing really making a peep being the melody that the birds sang out into the skies, he breathed in the scent of the rich coconut shampoo mixed with last night's leftovers, Azriel's eyes would flutter as he adjusted to the morning sun and the light it brought into their room.
Soft fabric against their skin, the duvet heavy and suffocating over their bodies, enveloped and was specifically big enough for the two of them so that they couldn't escape, even if they really wanted to do so. But that was never going to be an option, realistically.
Thick, curly strands of black hair were messily splayed out on one of the pillows, the one which was noticeably more fluffed and didn't look lifeless compared to Azriel's – which was littered with stray hairs, a few drool stains and maybe had some thread tethering at the sides. Typical.
A sweet, comforting pumpkin smell wafted around the small bedroom, the candle on their nightstand being the main source, though, it wasn't the only smell that lingered, of course. A toss from the one next to Azriel, an arm lazily slung over his body – pulled in closer to experience some form of warmth.
"Go back to sleep." A gruff, hard to hear mumble from Xen, as his eyes closed over once more, even if they weren't opened properly in the first place.
Azriel would do as he was asked. They didn't have plans for the day anyway.
April fools..? I didn't know that was today. I hate jokes..
When is it over..? All these jokes are making my head hurt, nyaaauuh..!!
Um, it'll be over eventually..
everything is normal in azriel and xen town
Of course it is, nyaaaauhhh.. why wouldn't it be normal? Everything's the way it should be! Like.. the library is pink, the roads are orange..
What he said.. I wanna go to bed..
April fools..? I didn't know that was today. I hate jokes..
When is it over..? All these jokes are making my head hurt, nyaaauuh..!!
Um, it'll be over eventually..
YOU,
.. me? Or do you mean Xen?
Is this a threat?
HI AZRIEL HI XENNYOURE HERE HI
YOU,
.. me? Or do you mean Xen?
Is this a threat?
They can't. I ordered them to stay inside, fiend.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some business of my own to tend to – it is not every day you have someone waiting to meet with your presence, especially with how great I am.
- 🌑🔮
WHY!!!! I can barely take care of myself I don't want to take care of 20 birds!!! I don't know how to!!!
Oh! You got some pets, globe?
That's.. a lot of birds. But I support your.. bird thing.
