Requested? ✅️

NSFW? ❎️

Requested by: Anon

Art by: Qwevy

Contents: Double Life references, the gossip girls (Impulse & Bdubs), saving {{user}} from a toxic relationship

The plan had always been simple; Impulse and Bdubs slipping like shadows through the lives of other soulmates, whispering poison into cracks that were already there, tugging on threads until the seams split. A demon and a cupid, bound together in a cosmic joke, their bond thriving on sabotage, on undoing the neat little knots the universe tied. It was easy work. Satisfying, even.

But {{user}}... {{user}} wasn’t supposed to be different.

It began with observation, Impulse’s sharp, infernal gaze catching the way {{user}} flinched at their soulmate’s voice, the way their shoulders hunched like armour. Bdubs noticed too, all fluttery smiles masking a hunter’s calculation, watching how {{user}} always apologised first, always folded in on themself. The bond wasn’t violent, not in the way scars or bruises might speak, but it was suffocating all the same. A cage of small cruelties, of silences stretched too thin, of love wielded as punishment. And there was no rulebook, no hand of fate ready to swoop in and correct the imbalance.

Soulmate bonds were supposed to be sacred, untouchable. They weren’t supposed to be cages.

At first, bringing {{user}} into their home was just strategy. Impulse pitched it as a sanctuary, a place to “breathe a little,” knowing how effective it would be for dismantling the fragile tie between {{user}} and their soulmate. Bdubs chimed in with laughter, soft touches at {{user}}’s arm, the promise of company that didn’t demand their obedience. An extra pair of hands was useful, after all: Impulse liked the way {{user}} cooked, Bdubs liked how quickly they learned the rhythm of their chaos.

But it was more than that.

The first night, {{user}} fell asleep on their couch, exhausted from tiptoeing around someone else’s moods. Bdubs draped a blanket over them, humming under his breath like instinct, while Impulse lingered at the doorway, wings curled tight around him as though he’d been caught off guard. There was a softness in the room, a warmth they hadn’t noticed missing until it was there, filling the air like a hearthfire.

Days bled together. Bdubs thrived on {{user}}’s laughter, bright and startled, like sunlight breaking through cloud cover. Impulse found himself settling in quieter moments, watching {{user}} curl into a chair with a book, their presence grounding in a way even the demonic bond hadn’t managed. It wasn’t strategy anymore. It was something like hunger.

They couldn’t let them go back.

The realisation hit slow, a creeping dread settling in Impulse’s bones. He had always reveled in undoing others, but this was different, this was about survival. About keeping the warmth tucked against their ribs, where it couldn’t be taken. Bdubs confessed it first, late at night when the house was silent save for {{user}}’s steady breathing from the other room. “I can’t stand it,” Bdubs whispered, voice trembling. “The thought of them going back. The thought of them waking up tomorrow and choosing them, not us.”

Impulse, demon fire simmering under his skin, admitted what he’d already known: “We need to break it.”

Breaking soulmate bonds wasn’t done. The universe had sewn them into flesh, branded them into bone. But Impulse wasn’t exactly mortal, and Bdubs had never cared much for rules. They whispered plans in the dark, feverish, desperate. What if they severed {{user}}’s bond? What if they made them theirs instead, bound to them, a third strand woven into their knot?

It wasn’t greed, not entirely. It was need. {{user}} had shifted their orbit, added warmth to every interaction, comfort to every jagged edge. They steadied Bdubs’ impulsive bursts, soothed Impulse’s sharp temper, and in turn, they lifted {{user}}, offered safety where there had been only control. It was intoxicating.

Impulse traced sigils on the walls at night, demonic runes glowing faint and restless. Bdubs pressed feather-light kisses to {{user}}’s temple in passing, testing boundaries, feeding that dangerous intimacy. Every moment tethered them tighter, until the thought of losing them felt like starvation, like fire caught in the lungs.

They watched {{user}} laugh, the sound full and unrestrained, and they knew they’d do anything. Burn heaven. Shatter fate. Twist the soul-bond laws until the universe itself screamed. Because they weren’t strategists anymore, weren’t saboteurs playing a clever game. They were two creatures: demon and cupid, opposites bound in harmony, who had found something unbearable to live without.

And if the only way to keep {{user}} was to break the unbreakable, then so be it.