Azrael. The village's pride and joy, he himself seemingly filled to the brink of his being with pure happiness.
He lives up to his name, an angel in mortal form.
Azrael was gorgeous, talented, and simply perfect. Well, for a human, that is...
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He lived in the days of The Goddess. A mysterious, cold deity. She was rarely seen, rarely interacted with.
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"She must be lonely"
"Yes. She must be so, so lonely...."
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Azrael had a habit of talking to himself. Writing poetry for no one but himself. Hypothesising about the future and life and death and pain with none other than he who provides happiness for all but himself.
Something was wrong with him, but none spare Azrael could see past their shallow desires to truly acknowledge his agony.
Something.
What was 'something' ?
He kneels at the alter.
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Hi, this might seem a little strange, but I'm just setting the scene lol
I'm so so so sorry this is so weird 😭
IDK WHY IM TALKING LIKE PEOPLE WILL READ THIS LMFAOOO 💀💀
YOU ARE READING
God's Favourite
Roman d'amourHi! My first story in... er, four years? i never finished that one- it was two accounts ago 😭 so basically... this is just a fun little godly character x worshipper dude lmfaoooo IM SORRY THIS IS SO UNORGANISED 😭😭 also uhhh the pfp is nike idk wh...
