#did not feel like changing out my mc's name so just blanked it out for anyone that might not have the game installed or smthn

[odysseys-blood]

(new mammon chat) right now immediately⁉️

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 32

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 6k

A/N: I fear its safe to say I don't do well with change. I moved back to school and couldn't find my groove. Who knew I just needed a little ovulation and commute to work time to bang this one out. Chapter 33 will be arriving shortly.

Well Javier was on the floor. Without a complaint. The two of you didn’t stay too long at the fair considering each ride had a wait time of forty five minutes. In the car you decided to keep your hotel but still be open to staying over, when it was appropriate.  So now you’re on his bed, back in one of his shirts. Surrounded by him. Criss crossed while he’s sat up on the floor. 

“You could come up here.” You offer, removing your rings and placing it on his nightstand. Already claiming his space as your own, too natural for you. The offer has him quirking a brow. It was a test, you know he shouldn’t. Shaking his head.

“I shouldn’t.” He settles into the mattress, pulling the blankets to his shoulders. “We could talk like this.” Grunting from adjusting his newly relaxed body. You move forward on your stomach so that he could see you. Resting your head on your arms. You smile feeling like two kids at a sleepover, whispering and peering over the bed to see if the other fell asleep yet.

“Good you passed that one. Let's continue shall we?” 

The game of 21 questions was more like two hundred questions and it continued all the way into the house. 

Did you date?

I thought you asked me not to tell you about all of that.

I said I don't want to hear about Camila or Daniela or whoever.

You remember their names?

Yes, I couldn’t sleep and thought about a Camila under you. He flexes his jaw at that. 

I went on two dates, which were set up by my partner Steve Murphy and his wife. They ended with goodbyes after dinner. Never spoke to them again.

I went on some dates too. 

I don’t want to hear about that. You pinch him on the elbow and he shrugs. We’re different about that stuff, I hate to hear it. You nod and get the urge to apologize but fight it. 

Now in bed he clears his throat, “Alright. Tell me what your apartment looks like?”

You smile, “It’s a steal for the area. I actually have a bedroom for the price of a studio. My rooms a bit more eclectic than my one here. My bedding is white but my room walls are a burgundy color. There’s no closet so I have a clothing rack. None of my living room furniture is new… it’s all second hand from stoop sales or whatever. My birds shit without batting an eye so I opted not to be dumb about that. What did yours look like?”

His eyes are closed for a moment like he’s trying to imagine it. “Hmmm.. it was dim in there, always. The kitchen and living room were open, a few steps to lead you to the living room. I had a leather couch and a desk. My television was pretty nice. Nothing was really– mine. I tried not to make it feel lived in because I didn’t want to get attached to that place–that world.” There’s a face that you’ve never really seen from him until you’ve been here. It’s one nearly blank but you know the way his face moves, there's a small crease in his brows and he clenches his jaw. Like talking about Colombia pained him and he has to conceal it. Almost like a child admitting to their faults after a spanking. Quiet, embarrassed, unsure, and on the verge of breakdown. “You would have hated it there.”

Probably. You just nod the best you can while laying down. Waiting for his question. 

“Um…” He closes one eye, like it’ll help him think. He opts to go silent for a moment like he conjured a question but was waging his options. 

Should I? Is this a line I shouldn’t cross? Is the wound still open? “Have you heard from your father?” 

You frown for a second. Off put and taken off guard. Remembering the day, remember the rolling grass, low hanging branches and the cold demeanor from the one person she needed warmth from. Hearing urgent and violent words like I love you. Promising to take care of you. 

“No. I never went back there. He never called me even though I’m sure my grandmother told him I moved to Louisiana. I stopped needing him after I got to know him.” You rarely thought of him, just the concept of being without a parent. Then you became an educator and realized that anyone you call family is your own. Your students taught you that, so did Javier years earlier but you suppose maybe you weren’t ready to accept it yet. 

Javier hums to himself, staring at the ceiling. Contemplating if he should really share the way he had felt. Afraid it would break some rule in this delicate game you’ve got going. Wondering if you’ll furrow your brow and turn you back to sleep or internalize what’s climbing up, up, up his throat. 

“If this is… against your rules you don’t have to say anything or we could move on…”

“Okay.”

Again he can’t look at you. How is it that you reduce him to a shy young boy? 

“There’s nothing more that I want in life than to be the father of your kids.” There he goes leaping over the bounds to which he’s left in, but he can’t help it. It’s all he thinks about, all he thought about three years ago and it plagued him every time you spoke of your own father. He doesn’t see you but he can feel your eyes closed, silent, internalizing it all. After all, you'd never turn your back on him. “No one will ever know you like me. Love you, sure, but not as much as me. You’re too easy to love. But I know that you could show me what a mother looks like and I could show you what a father looks like. Our kids will never be in pain the way we were. Sorry if this makes you uncomfortable or-or confused. It’s all I thought about when I was away. And I’m so sorry for ever making you think I didn’t want you in that way.” Because he should have known that it was a deep point of insecurity for you, a deep well created by your parents. Urge to be loved, to create something and love it in a much fiercer and kinder way than your parents did you. Lorraine being able to have all that you wanted came like slice to the stomach. 

Sniffling, you rub your face into the crook of your arm. Hiding from Javier. He looks this time and he doesn’t try to hold your hand like you’re itching for. 

“Thank you… I—.” You wipe your face. Not willing to open the can of worms this could conjure if you just told him straight up that you’d be willing to start now. Fuck the trial, fuck trying to learn each other again, let’s start a family. Be irrational but be happy. You decide to keep it together. You thank him and he knows it’s genuine, you see it in his eyes. He understands your reluctance. “I found that I don’t have the need for many people in my life-“

“I need you.” He says before you. Like he did when he said he loved you. Throat bobbing, he pulls his sheets over him. “I’ll wait for you, until you need me again.”

“Can never get enough of each other huh.” Chucho chuckles while washing his hands in the sink. Boots clean and squeaking against the floor. It was a part of his routine, cleaned his boots every night even if he worked the next morning. 

Last night you fell asleep with your face buried into the crook of your arm. Hand dangling off the mattress, grazing Javier’s neck. Need to touch, woke up with a sore arm. Bleary eyed you notice there’s no-body by the bed. Silent but the sound of running water. 

That’s how you found Chucho, ready for the day at 8 am. Embarrassingly you pad into the kitchen in Javier’s shirt and boxers. 

You shrug, he hands you a cup of coffee. Nodding a thank you, “We have established clear boundaries. We are just spending quality time. We have a lot to make up for.” You say it with a bit of a half awake half still dreaming slur that has Javier’s father beaming. 

“Well if that’s what you’re calling it nowadays, so be it. I won’t be back until four pm.” He places his cup down and starts walking away. Your jaw drops and you nearly run after him. But you know he’s fucking with you, his shoulders bounce. 

“It’s not like that!” You call and he waves a hand at you over his shoulder and steps straight out of his own home. Screen door slamming with a brisk breeze. 

You hear a sneeze, “What’s not like that?” Your head snaps and eyes lock with Javier’s. Freshly showered, hair so wet it droops on his forehead. He looks younger this way. Grey shirt loose with jeans to match. Socked feet, he looks like he doesn’t want you to go anywhere. At least seeing him like this makes you want to find a nest for yourself in his bed. You can’t help but smile at him. 

He’s skeptical of your cheery mood. Brows furrowing, nostrils flared but a hint of a smile. He’s cautious, like he knows you’re up to something. You aren’t, at all. You’re just giddy and it’s only been two days and you feel your boundaries loosening. Just wanting to find that place you yearn for. Just run to him now, kiss him, tell him to put a baby in you. Grab, pull, lick, love, whatever came with it. You decide to control yourself a bit. 

Your eyes drop to his hands, he’s holding three VHS tapes. Your brows furrow just the same, wondering what movie he wanted to see with you. It wasn’t a thing the two of you ever did. Your time spent was short and only for conversations and kisses. And pot, back before everything. You had to stop smoking after getting your teaching gig. 

You want to say something bratty like, assuming I’m staying for some home videos? But you can’t even do that, lord when did you become such a softie? “Big plans?” Is all you can manage to croak.

He shrugs, “Are you staying?” He says it without shame, you know it must take a lot for a man to nearly beg. You know he means please stay. 

You look at him once more and down at your boxer clad legs. Shrugging. “I suppose”

Eric Fredricks' family owned a Haitian restaurant off main street. It was a small take out spot that had been bustling with business since 1961. Eric was your classmate. A friend of everyone, known for his large digital camera he carried around school. The loud, goofy kid shoved his damn camera in everyone’s faces. Annoyed or not, he would always say, “When you fuckers are forty you’re really going to appreciate these recordings!” 

Well, each year he cut, edited and burned these tapes as his own NR rated yearbook videos. Selling them around school and you bought one each year. He was chill with the price for you just because you always perked up in front of his camera. Ready to gleam and answer whatever stupid questions he had like;

“Andrea, how does it feel to be the worst lacrosse player in Laredo history?”

“Or Andrea, what are your thoughts on today’s LHS Chilli special? “ 

You always answered with the same slapstick humor he had. You thought you lost these tapes years ago. Javier seemed to remind you that you left them at his house, might’ve been when Javier was in Houston.

 He was right, your mother’s VHS player stopped working in 1982. You remember popping these tapes in and watching them during your winter break from Miami. Chucho snoring on the lazy boy, saved him from watching the closest thing he had to a daughter do a keg stand with her skirt flipped up towards her chest. 

“I’ve never seen these.” Javier grunts when he straightens back up and walks to sit next to you on the brown couch. A couch with the tendency to swallow you whole. You remember Javier on his knees before you, pillow covering your spread legs while he unlaced your boots. 

“Well you left so…” You grab the control and snicker, pressing play.

“Hah. Hand me that.” he gestures to the pack of cigarettes on the side table. You shake your head no and settle into the seat. “Cmon.” 

“No. No smoking in the house.” You snap at the tv, “Watch.” 

It’s Eric’s face, he’s sitting in his bedroom. “Hello. I’m Eric Fredricks. I’m fifteen and my passion is digital media. The yearbook club is full of hacks and strokes, so I’m going to make my own. The date is September 21st 1979. Ok bye!” the film glitches and the camera makes its way down the hall. Faces of people who you haven’t seen in years. Hairstyles forgotten, thank god. Winks at the camera, sly comments from Eric behind it. He asks questions in his interview segment that would never make it to the school's video yearbook. 

“What does Eric do now?” Javier asks. It’s easy to forget that he missed so many crucial moments. He missed the infamous lunch box incident in 81', Laredos first soccer championship, the halloween rager that led to the assembly—all of that. You wonder if that’s normal, for the development of a person. To be plucked out of childhood and forced to be an adult while everyone else got to worry about if their drivers test aligned with their basketball practice schedule. Burdened with the responsibility of a person's livelihood is no place for a seventeen year old. 

You bring your knees to your chest, finding the most comfort when you're guided and held. “Last I heard he was doing media production for Saturday Night Live. Like in New York City.”

He feels it too, you see the way his brows quirk. How he almost frowns. “That’s crazy—how different things went for everyone else.” You knew at that moment that the tape would be mere background noise. 

“You— you know you made a name for yourself too.” 

Hm. 

You weren’t sure if that’s what you wished to say. He doesn’t get upset with you for it. He chooses to let it slide and for that you’re grateful because you hadn’t had a clue about what to say to him. 

“Yeah.” He chuckles but doesn’t seem to be that amused. He pinches the bridge of his nose, leaning his head against the back of the couch. There’s not much to be said anymore. Lorraine changed the fabric of his being, so did the DEA. And maybe you too. His hand splayed on his knee, knuckles red from repeated trauma to the area. You opted to abandon the topic in general. Seeing his stomach tighten up under the thin fabric of his t-shirt when the choice was your hand on his. Small, soft, against his. 

The two of you relish in the harmless intimacy, you give each other this. Tiny touches could be enough. 

The two of you watch the bootlegged documentary in mostly silence. Rotating who strokes the other with their thumbs. You think about turning your cheek, kissing him. Pressing close and making out for a bit. A casual make out, breathy and gripping. You decide against it. This would be so easy if it was anyone else but him. 

It’s not because you feel like you can’t control yourself—it’s not like a make out with Javier Peña would have your panties at your ankles. You could control yourself more than that. What it is—is that you’ll take advantage of those little liberties. Sneaking kisses at any time and when you go back home, you’ll be lost without it. 

Maybe you’re doomed anyway, because if this doesn’t work out you don't know what you’ll do knowing you can’t just hold his hand. 

Your brother comes out on halloween with a fang induced lisp drunkenly reciting the alphabet backwards at a party while Eric cackles behind the camera. It makes you laugh so hard you cry, missing being young. Missing your brother. 

Lorraine pops up. High ponytail with red cheeks from gym class. Hands on her hips, it’s wrong for such an evil person to be so beautiful. You look at Javier and there’s a frown on his face. 

He wonders why she was so bad to him, what he did to deserve to be plagued by her. He regrets knowing her, it’s hard for him to watch her smile. 

Then you show up and Javier’s eyebrows raise. “I remember that day.” He mutters. There you are, looking the same just with that baby fat at the apple of your cheeks. Your hair was the closest to its natural brown, your pants were severely high waisted and your shirt a lacy shawl like thing. You’re at a locker taping a flier about lacrosse tryouts when the camera rushes you.

“Andrea Diaz! How does it feel to be Laredos worst lacrosse player?” Javier snorts next to you, squeezing your hand. That’s what he would do, come up to you and ask the dumbest, rudest questions. There, a fifteen year old Andrea rolls her eyes and rolls her thumb to secure the tape. 

Crossing her arms, “I’ll answer your dumb questions if you’re nicer about it.” You cringe at the sound of your own voice, sounding awfully juvenile. Javier’s entire demeanor goes soft. All it took was the sound of you—back then, for him to forget the panic in his gut when watching Lorraine in her prime. 

“Alright sure-sure- Andrea Diaz how does it feel to be the sexiest girl in all of Laredo?” Eric had quite the country accent, it made every line delivered feel like that of a typecasted movie star. 

Quirking a brow, “I wouldn’t know. I could ask your mother.” 

“All right that’s enough! You’re impossible to please ,woman!” Eric yells from behind the camera and it fades in little blocks to you getting set up for a keg stand. 

You’re in a skirt and a flowing yellow top. Stumbling a bit, Daniel holds your shoulder to keep you upright. You try not to think too hard about the images you’ve left in people’s minds while you were drunk. Javier is getting more and more tense each passing moment. His hold on your hand becomes just a hold and no longer a soothing stroke. 

You’re cringing at yourself, flipping your hair and chanting that you could do it while Daniel holds your waist. Hands trailing over your stomach, you almost forget that before Javier you had your fair share of hookups, him your most consistent. 

The date on the corner March 1st 1980. 

Drunkenly you lean forward and another one of your peers holds your other leg while another shoves a tap in your mouth. The entire party off screen and on, start chanting your name with whoops. That’s when your skirt flips and exposes the plain blue panties. 

You cover your eyes. 

“I don’t like this.” Is all that Javier can say, on the screen no one covers you until a random classmate of yours, Jenna? Or was it Jessa? Runs to your aid and calls all the men pigs before holding your skirt in its place. You’re dropped down and again you stumble backward into the arms of your pseudo boyfriend. 

And then you yak all over the floor.

 “Jesus christ I forgot about that.” You rub your eyes afraid to look over at Javier. 

“Did—anything-“

“No. Well I think we went to someone’s room and made out. Then I walked home.” 

His head nearly falls off his shoulders. “He let you walk home like that?” Javi grits, letting go of your hand. 

You shrug, “Dunno, high school shit.” 

“Why didn’t you call me?” 

Your brows furrow, he’s being ridiculous but you know he can’t help it. He wanted—wants, nothing more than to take care of those he loves. You watch the video back, seeing your young eyes and wish to take care of her too. You can’t even imagine him. He only lets you know the surface level of his concern for you. You know it’s more than wishing you had called him. 

You had before, panicked and blushing using the party home phone. 

You decide calling him ridiculous would be in bad faith. You just lean your head on his shoulder. Moving your hand from his and holding his bicep instead. He looks at you out of the corner of his eye. Face softening along with his tense shoulders. “I don’t know. I was sixteen and stupid. And drunk.” Your cheek feels too good there. 

He’s studying you. You wished you could read him in these moments. When he’s so in his head, he’s taking you in completely. “Can you? Now I mean.”

Your lips quirk and the apples or your cheeks redden. Pulling your brows because sometimes he’s too sweet it gives you a toothache. “I live in New York, Javi.” 

“I know.” He’s close enough to kiss. “But I want you to call me anyway. If you ever feel unsafe or unsure—i know how twisted a human can be—i’ve seen-“

There it is. He’s cut off by a kiss on his shoulder.

 “I will.” It’s a featherlight whisper and he does that thing again. That look, this time with a bit of restraint. The two of you focus on the screen again.

Twenty minutes into the forty-six minute video the two of you revert back to telling stories about the students on the screen and laughing at how high school, your high school experience really was.

“This is great, hottest couple in the school right in front of me.” Eric laughs, camera pointed at the ground then quickly shot up. Blurring than focusing on Javier at his locker. He looked so young, red cap on his head with a Righteous Brothers t-shirt. The image of him as a seventeen year old in your head had been fading for a few years, but now you’re watching him living, breathing and moving as himself. Smiling once he sees Eric approaching him. 

“What the fuck was I wearing?”

You laugh, your cheek pressed to his shoulder. “Don’t know but I was obsessed with you anyway.”

He makes one of those grunts where you can’t tell if he’s annoyed with himself or with you. You nudge his shoulder with your chin. “What?”

“Makes me feel like such an asshole.”

All you could do was sigh. You know he’d give it all to do it over again. You look at Lorraine and there seems to be love there. It never fails to make your blood boil. You know that loving Javier can make you feel sick, crazy or desperate. But you suppose her love was selfish. For a while you felt like your own love was selfish, not caring for the consequences. But you suppose it was just a natural progression. Miles away from scheming to keep him forever, by ways of manipulation. The look in his eye isn’t the same since you left him. 

A young Javier takes Lorraine’s jaw in his hand and kisses her cheek. She rolls her eyes. “He’s obsessed with me.” She smiles and he mumbles a yeah. Your cheeks heat in a rage that’s so juvenile, you want to turn off the entire thing. Maybe this was a shitty idea. Watching your most insecure and turbulent years in front of you. You were obsessed with him, crying furious tears. Avoiding contact. While he was content with her. It’s a nerve that will always be left exposed. 

He clears his throat. 

“Were you?” You bite. Removing your head from his shoulder, he sinks at the loss. Leaning forward to get a full image of your face. His brows are pulled together in confusion until they soften when he notices this is nothing but you showing him you are still so into him. 

He bites back a smirk and you want to smack it off of his face. “Was I what, querida?”

You swear you will-

“Obsessed with her.” Firm, no room for it to sound like a desperate question. This definitely breaks one of your rules. But fuck it, he’s flawed and so are you, 

He shuts an eye and shakes his head no. “I liked her. She was pretty. She was my girlfriend…”

You frown, that title belonged to you. 

There he is, an inch away from your face with such intensity. “But I would fuck her, and picture you. I imagined that you’d blush the whole time and would pretend like you couldn’t handle me just so I can fuck you harder. Would have to bury my head where she couldn’t hear because I’d come and say your name.” Your cheeks turn cherry red, just how he likes. Cunt pulsing, it betrays you. You’re so flustered and angry with him you want to lean forward and bite him. He doesn’t waiver, he leans much closer. You shudder, feeling crowded by his body. He has the strength to do what he’d like with you, you’re sure you’d put on a fight until you’re unable to lie anymore. You had been soaked the whole damn time. “What? Have I broken your rules?” He whispers, nose nudging your own lightly. You can’t help it, your mouth parts searching for his—

But he backs away and laughs at you. He laughs! Shaking his head like you’re some bastard child. Leaning back cooley and pressing play again. Lorraine’s voice ringing through the speakers. 

Absolutely not. 

You sit in silence. Staring at him while he’s glued to the image of him and his ex girlfriend. Your chin quivers, and you clench around nothing.

“G-give me the remote.” You blurt. Chest falling, bubbling with anger. He doesn’t look at you but smirks. He ignores you. Eyes welling with tears. “Javi.”

More silence. More her. You reach for his hand and he doesn’t look at you. He isn’t looking at you… so you pounce. 

Jumping into his lap, clawing at him while he laughs and hurriedly finds different ways to keep you away from the remote. You’re seeping through your underwear and onto his boxers, your cunt rolling against his crotch unintentionally.

 Your brows screw—“Just—Javi please turn it off.” He chuckles again and he’s all of this without focusing on the pain you’re in. Emotionally, sexually, whatever. You reach around him lifting your hips to get ahold of the controller but you lose again. Bouncing on his lap a bit. He grunts.

“Javi— Please- I’m not kidding.” 

The tv shuts off with a wiring tone and his eyes finally land on your own. All the playfulness leaves when he realizes. And you feel like a heat sick kitten, rubbing on yourself this way. His brow raises, eyes falling to your tear stained cheek and down your grinding hips. You drop your face into his shoulder. At first he doesn’t touch you, he just watches you. Nose nudging your cheek. Wondering why after everything you’d give it up just to come quick like this. 

“Hey… hey.” He whispers at the shell of your ear. “Fuck—Andrea—“

You can only whimper into the crook of his neck. Taking your feel for the girl in those tapes, for the girl who dreamt of him while he did the same. It drove you crazy, it made you violent and horny. “Baby…” His big hands span from your shoulder blades down to  the small of your back and then splayed on your ass. Spreading you and rolling you harder. He grunts again. “Andrea… I can’t—we said we wouldn’t—I'm sorry for teasing you—cmon.” His hands move from your behind, come to your front, at your waist and lightly push  you away from him. 

He’s impossibly hard now, his tan cheeks have a bit more color now. He’s sweating. Feeling embarrassed, you freeze. Eyes dropped to his lap, cunt begging you to move again. You feel the length of him under you, mocking you. You shouldn’t. You know. You know he’s sorry for how rushed and stupid Christmas eve was. You’re still ticked off by it, but he’s doing so good for you. 

“I’m sorry… we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Is all you can muster out. 

“You know I want to.” He rushes, leaning forward so he can hold your face, it just makes him shift against you again. Your brows furrow at the release. 

“Okay…” A drop of sweat builds at the nape of your neck, the both of you are so turned on you’ll fuck each other if you keep this up. “Can we…can I…” You swear if he brings up your rules again you’ll crawl in a hole and die of embarrassment. 

He juts his chin at you, egging you to complete your sentence. 

You think you’ll die before you say it. Your face brightens real red and you shimmy out of his hold. You crawl off his lap and mutter to yourself. “Sorry, it’s stupid. I should just go.” 

He catches your wrist and sits you back down next to him. “Tell me.”

“It’s stupid! And gross probably.”

“We aren’t children.” 

You’ve been so open sexually until now. You felt twenty two again, never having orgasmed with another person, afraid to tell him what you wanted. He gave you it all. 

“Can we— or can I touch myself?”

Javier’s eyes darken, “You want to touch yourself.” 

God it’s like he’s trying to humiliate you. 

“Yes.”

He clenches his jaw so tight. “Can I watch? Or do you want to go to my room alone?” 

Idiot. 

“Can we do it together? Now.” You can’t let the moment pass. 

Well, he can’t either. His nostrils flare and he places his hand on his belt. Unbuckling so fast you can’t help but watch. You watch him unbuckle and unzip while you shimmy out of his boxers. His eyes glued to your movements. You feel filthy exposing yourself like this. He lifts his hips and pulls his jeans down a bit, the heft of his cock making a print through his underwear. You remember leaning down and pressing your lips along his bulge once. You’d like to do it again. 

You circle your fingers along your clit over your panties. He palms himself. 

“Tell me what to do.” You whisper. 

“Oh.” He reaches into his boxers and pulls his length out. Your pussy clenches at the sight, a thatch of hair at the base and curved. You touched yourself to the thought of it. You pull your panties down and lift one leg up on the couch, spreading yourself open. “Give me your fingers.” 

You furrow your brow but remove them. Bringing your hand to him. His free hand grasps your wrists and he takes no time, he puts the same two fingers in his mouth. You gasp, while he sucks, stroking his dick at the same time. Your fingers are impossibly wet when he stops. Your wrist is still in his hold. “Don’t put any fingers in until I tell you. Just play with your clit for a little.” 

You nod, bringing your fingers back to it. Moving in tight circles. Javier’s fist is dry, working his way up and down his shaft— your lips gather with drool—you want to-

“Spit on it. If you want. Or I can.” He reads your mind. You take no time, moving to your knees, your knees knocked together giving you a tighter squeeze for your fingers. Feels even better. You lean into his lap, back arched like a kitten. 

Javier groans at the sight. You desperately want to put your mouth on him—my rules, my rules. Spit drips from your mouth and onto the red head of his pretty cock. His hand comes to the back of your head and you moan, wishing he’d push down and force himself into your mouth. But he just strokes the back of your head instead. You lean back into the arm of the couch, you’re no longer side by side. Your whole body is barred for him, you bring your free hand under your shirt. Grabbing your breast and rolling your fingers over your nipples. 

He uses your spit and moans audibly now. Grunting in his low baritone, you collect your slick and use it for slip. Your stomach tenses, “Put your finger in. Middle.” You nod and feel even more unsatisfied. “Fuck, I missed that pretty little face you make when something goes inside your cunt.”

“Javi…” You whine throwing your head back, fucking yourself with your small finger. 

“I know—fuck.” Pre-cum gathers all over the tips of his fingers. You’ll ask to lick his hand clean when you’re done. “I know your cunt wants my cock again—I’m sorry I can’t.”

“It’s not enough.” Your knees knock together in protest. 

“I know-I know. Add another baby. Ring.” You watch his stomach go taut so he slows down his strokes. Licking his lips at the sight of you adding another. “Mm. I miss you so much.” He shudders. 

“I’m right here.” 

“Please don’t leave me—fuck.” He whines, it’s so unlike him. You watch his tip surge through the tight hole he’s made for himself, he’s close but you’re closer. You can’t believe it’s him asking you this. “I want to follow your rules—show you I’m good—but please let me kiss you.” 

The ridges of your fingers aren’t enough, you use your other hand to circle your clit without permission. He’s so caught in his emotions that he doesn’t seem to care that you touched yourself without his command. 

He tells you what to do but truly he’s at your will. His eyes well with tears and his brows are pulled together. “Let me take care of you, I’ll do everything you say if you let me kiss you—“

“I can’t— I’m going to come!” Your back arches and it builds. You can’t see him now but you hear his pace, his fist slapping against his base. You writhe and shiver and it comes crashing down. You come hard, you mutter I’m sorry, over and over. And he groans at the sight, you can’t give him what he wants. 

You can try and give him something else. You catch your breath and open your eyes. Your own come dripping to the inside of your thighs. He watches in pain, “Baby—” You whisper, fuck that’s against the rules probably. He nods, submissive suddenly. “Come here, come on my cunt.” You want to be marked, he’s yours. 

“Andrea—“ still he’s fighting his need to follow your rules. 

You nod, “It’s okay, come here.” He lets his length go at once, it twitches at the sudden abandonment. You lean forward and grab his arms, and he finally climbs over you. Reluctant, “Please Javi. Let me have what I want.” Were you power tripping? Yeah. But it was always him in control. You open your legs and he clenches his jaw. “Do you want me to finish it?” 

He shakes his head no, you know he wants it. Still he tries to be good. You begin to touch yourself under him. He begins to jerk himself off inches away from your cunt. Your knuckles brush against each other and you're already climaxing again. He slaps faster, breathing heavily in the crook of your neck. 

“Fuck—move your hand.” You do and he’s coming all over you. It shoots and covers the new growth of hair, it's warm against the bare part of you. Dripping and he instinctively slides his twitching, softening cock between your folds. The two of you gasp when just the tip of his cock prods your hole. Gasping at the way you pulse for him for that one second like muscle memory. “Sorry.” He mumbles, taking a hold of his still twitching and leaking length. He panics and tucks himself back into his boxers before he relaxes himself on you. 

He’s catching his breath, you think he’s crying against your shoulder. 

“It’s okay.” 

You hold the back of his head, hoping to soothe him. 

He had done this for you countless times. You find no issue doing it for him.

[sicily-cece]

She died so I died with her

Description: when Mc’s best friend had died, a part of Mc had died with her.

TW: death, cussing, comfort? (If that really is a tw)

Obey me Lucifer x fem! reader

_____________________________________

Mc’s pov:

I’m losing myself; I can’t bring myself to eat, sleep, or move in general.

I haven’t looked in the mirror but I can imagine what I looked like. Messy hair tossed and knotted and every which way, eyebags, and lifeless eyes.

I’ve been staring at my blank white wall for days that bragged on longer than normal. The brothers would knock on my door to tell me that dinner is ready.

They never asked me if I was okay because they knew that I wasnt. My best friend had died and I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.

And worst of all; I had to hear it from Lucifer rather than her family. Vivian was her name, but we all called her vivi.

she was the most gorgeous girl; Black hair that went down her back, ocean blue eyes that would light up when she got excited over little stuff, and she was extremely kind and sweet to overs. Too bad they weren’t kind to her back.

She had a shit life since we were kids. Her dad was always yelling and screaming with the occasional throwing stuff, Her mom didn’t like her as a person, but loved her because that was her daughter.

We had everything planned out since we were 15. We would change our identities when we turned 18 and move countries and disappear. Well I disappeared to hell, while she had her life disappear.

I haven’t been myself. When vivi died a piece of me died with her. I didn’t strive to live anymore but didn’t have the strength to kill myself; So I survived.

_____________________________________

I heard a knock on my door, I didn’t move and I didn’t say anything. I knew that it was my boyfriend, Lucifer but I couldn’t seem to care.

I was so focused on the picture of me and vivi before I left for hell. When we were 19, I saw a glimpse of what could have happened if I wasn’t dragged to hell for a stupid exchanged program.

I heard Lucifer sigh and open my door. I left the worry linger in his stare, I knew he was sitting at his desk worring about me.

He didn’t say anything, he just sat at the foot of my bed. He looked at me like I was glass that was about to break.

I could hear the brothers from my room. they’ve been loud and normally I’m loud with them but I can’t stand it; not while I’m grieving the loss of my best friend.

He knew the noise was bothering me, it was like he could read my mind. He knew me like the back of his hand. Her gently picked me and the blanket up.

I didn’t protest, I didn’t move, I just let him carry me. But the familiar scent of my boyfriend was comforting at the very least.

I heard the brothers quiet down when Lucifer carried me down the stairs. I felt the pain that they felt, the worry to know if I’m okay. I couldn’t see their facial expressions since my face was in Lucifer’s chest.

I knew asmo, beel, and mammon are on the verge of crying for me, satan was probably frowning with a worried look, belphie looked like he didn’t care but if you looked in his eyes, you’ll know that he feels my pain. Levi was internally freaking out and it shows.

Lucifer nor I said anything to them as he walked past. He opened the door and sat me on his bed. It familiar room, cursed records that produced soft music, the overall look of his room was so comforting to me but not comforting enough.

He slid next to me and held me tightly like I was going to disappear. I knew I was safe, I knew that I could cry and scream as loud as I wanted and he wouldn’t judge.

So I did, I cried. I was sobbing,my throat hurt, my eyes are all puffy and red, I’m grabbing onto his shirt like if I let go then he would disappear too.

And he made a ‘sh’ sound while rubbing my back, the only way he knew of comforting me.

It worked, I was still crying but I wasn’t sobbing, hiccuping, or trying to breath because it felt like my lungs aren’t getting enough oxygen.

I eventually fell asleep and Lucifer never left. I knew that we I left this room, I would be bombarded with questions and concerns by the other 6 brothers. But I wasn’t thinking about that. I was thinking about how grateful I am for a loving boyfriend.————————————————————————————————————

This is my first fanfic that I’ve ever made so I’m sorry if it’s trash but I hoped you enjoyed the angst 😋🫶🏻 

[shinjisdone]

If you are still doing the Fem mc can you do a one with Floyd or Idia

Floyd is forever A tier man. Also I have been thinking of being a bit more self-indulged with these fem mc and friends asks since they did begin as self-indulgant fics for my oc lol. I find myself being able to write more creatively - trying to have a fem mc that everyone could insert themselves in or see any kind of interesting changes in is hard because frankly, the only thing about such a blank slate is that they are female.

while my own OC is also female and that does play a part in the little shenanignags, I also add a bit of her own personality and thoughts to make it a bit different (and as i said self-indulgent)

Plus, I honestly really struggled and disliked the riddle one, where I tried to not put any characteristics of my oc in there to make it more 'appealing' for anyone. But I found this just doesn not work for me.

I will do this one request with my OC in mind if that is okay!

Fem!Mc And Friends - Floyd Leech

Everyone, run! Before you get squeezed.

Floyd Leech is a weird combination of predictable and unpredictable. It can be expected to be looked down upon, threatened, challenged and squeezed by Floyd, yet when it comes to whatever he decides to stick with and spend his time on, he is a wild card.

Unfortunately, you are one of the many things he has decided to spend his time with. The little, jumpy 'Shrimpy' he came across.

And while he seems to stick to others and 'affectionately' refer to everyone with ocean-related names, he still seems...especially attached to you...

When You Spend Helloween Together...

Why would you spend Helloween with him? Are you crazy?

This is probably Floyd's favorite holiday on land. Dressing up as scary things (aside from himself) with the intention to terrify the crap out of anyone who crosses him? And he can get away with it? Who cares about some treats when he can carry out some tricks?

Even if you try to stay far, faaaar away from him Floyd will be sure to find you~

Where's Shrimpy, Shrimpy, Shrimpy~? Oh, are you dressed up, too? That's cute. You think you're gonna scare anyone with that?

Nothing scares Floyd and he still has the same kind of opinion of you since day 1. A meek, tiny shrimp. So he doesn't think you could pull any tricks anyway.

On top of that you are magicless and just a little girl in his eyes. Sounds mean but try as you might, he will never acknowledge you as 'bigger' or 'taller' even if you are.

Will first show off his costume (isn't it neat?) And threaten to terrify you right after (there's enough bandages to bind you down into a coffin).

Floyd always and I mean ALWAYS loves to mess with you but on this special day he feels like going all out. Scaring you, popping out of nowhere, acting like a real Zombie and like a bite from him could kill you??? You tell him off but he also acts like he believes what he says???

You may be a lot of things but no Zombie.

Hehe, you sure? Wanna try it out :) ?

He especially likes to tease you with his nickname for you. There's just something about it when you startle and jump up like these cats on land while he spooks you :) why can't Helloween be everyday?

Also your scared expression are just *chef kiss* to him. Will try every trick in the book to just...indulge in these shrieks and screams of fear.

And when he finds out you have a fear? Scared of the dark, spiders, thunder or oooohh zombies? Hehe, you're never getting rid of hiiiiimmm, Shrimpyyyyy!

Floyd would especially love it if you let out girly yelps or shrieks. He is surrounded by dudes in NRC so someone really girly is just interesting and more fun to tease.

Stuck in a haunted house with Floyd? Haha, help. Seriously, call for help!

Floyd is not stuck in a haunted house - the haunted house is stuck with Floyd. And you are right in the middle.

It feels like each scare and trick is being terrified into submission by him. The guy gets quickly bored out of his mind that he decides to spook the entire house. But besides that, he sticks with you and loves watching your reactions.

You will wish for the protection of Malleus and Deuce, because Floyd will not lift a finger to help or comfort you. He'll hang over your shoulder with that stupid, gleeful grin on his face (and the fangs near your flesh!) And laugh at your misery.

:(

But I feel like if something truly awful were to happen to you - maybe someone took a trick too far or made you cry - Flyod maaaaybe could become scary to everyone but you. Huh? Hey, you cannot terrify his Shrimpy that much. That's his job. Look what'chu did. Better get out of his sight.

When You Watch Him At His Club...

Oh boy. You can expect a lot "Hey, Shrimpy! Hey, hey! Over here, Shrimpy! Shrimpy, over here!"

He most likely threatened invited you to his basketball Club, no matter if there was a game or practice session.

It isnt thaaaat bad...Ace and Jamil are there too and they are miles more mellow than Floyd is if you ever need someone like that.

Ace will be a bit confused on why Floyd would invite you while Jamil is just hoping the guy will actively play for once in one go. Not when he feels like it.

Yet when you arrived, there Floyd was, taking you into his arms so tight you were lifted off the ground and squeezed so hard you thought you couldnt breathe.

Floyd is so happy to see you! Did Shrimpy come just for him and watch him play? Huh, did'chu, did'chu?

Also he would still hug you if he was covered in sweat and would not care. It'd be even funny if you were grossed out by it.

However...against all odds, Floyd would actually play - and go all out!

Even if it were practice, he is brutal. After each shot, he'd spin into your direction with arms shot up. A huge grin on his face. He's expecting you to watch him and only him.

Though if your attention is somewhere else, he'd pout and tell you to watch him! Look how much he's destroying the others!

In fact, you're supposed to cheer for him! Be Floyd's 'cheerleader' as he says. There's bunch of games where there's a girl cheerleader team that hypes up the audience and players! Do that for him! You got no choice if you don't wanna get on his bad side

Ah, should he get you one of these 'pom-poms'? You'd be so cute with them!

It just feels kind of special when the only girl in NRC is cheering for him. It's like in one of these movies!

Say a cheer that just consists of his name. Just that! Don't mention anyone else!

If you do pay attention or cheer for someone else, Floyd will not like it. Observing the other player like a hawk and leering at them with his classic 'huuuuh'? Even if they are on the same team.

Will do his best to kind of get your attention back on him. That can go from fouling the other player to telling you in your face to watch him. Him.

It can cost them the victory but Floyd wouldn't care. The sole reason why he even decided to come is because he dragged you here.

Ace is weirded out and Jamil's trying not to fume in anger.

When You Are Stranded On An Island...

Well. This isn't anything...novel for Floyd.

He IS from the ocean so a beach isn't something that would surprise or unnerve him. The sight of sand, the ocean, palm trees and the lovely sunlight...is rather boring to him.

Islands like this exist everywhere. Why should this one be any different?

Well, you are here for once.

And so are people like Crabby and Goldfish! This is sure to be fun!

Floyd will drag you to every place he finds interesting. Beaches are familiar to him so he can show and teach you anything! He's an expert in a way!

Collecting things is actually a dull activity to him. If you show any interest, he will just...drag you off. Maybe haul you around. If you say they are meant ad souvenirs, he still wouldn't budge and tell you these are boring trinkets instead. He knows much better stuff, come on!

His favorite thing to do is swimming for sure! Expect to be thrown into the sea and him quickly following after you. It doesnt matter what you are wearing, he will force you to swim with him.

Floyd will turn into his eel form and just drag you further and further into the seaaaaa~

Ace is getting worried and Riddle is screaming at him to return at once! You are supposed to find a way back to NRC!

It's kinda akin to a horror movie.

And since you two are so far out, you'll have no choice but to cling to him~!

Don't worry though, as much as Floyd teases and messes with you, he will never put you in any harm. He knows the sea better than anyone else.

He just likes having your arms around him and vice versa!

Floyd especially likes it when you're just a taaaaad biiiit scared and cling to him as if you'd never let go. It's just twice the fun and extra cute.

But hey, if you are already out here, why not explore a bit? He can hold you as you dive into the deep blue and catch some fish or anemona, spook some crabs or get some souvenirs from there! Anything down there is way better than on some beach!

You could be like a mermaid then! Don't you wanna try it?

Just act like your legs are fins and maybe let your hair open - oh, ya don't want to?

Meh, fine.

On another point, Floyd is not used to wear these vacation...swim...beach wear or whatever. But he guesses it's neat. Especially the sunglasses.

He would really like it if you wore ocean-related clothes or things. It just looks good on you.

Swimwear or bikini though? It's interesting wear but also...intriguing?

He's never seen something like that, the closest thing he knows are from mermaids. But well, they are half fish.

But on you...it looks good. Floyd would stare at you. Not shamelessly but more so out of curiousity. Shrimps don't usually look like that, you know?

Just wants to have fun with you.

[fateinthestars]

Star-Crossed Myth Fluffbruary Fanfic (22nd Feb): Treasure Hunt (Ichthys/ MC)

(A/N: I'm ever so slightly late with this for my timezone but I've really been wanting to at least attempt to write something to try and get back in tne flow. Then I prodded my Fluffbruary file and Ichthys to the rescue!)

Title: Treasure Hunt

Fandom: Star-Crossed Myth

Genre: Fluff

Rating: T

Pairing: Ichthys/MC (MC’s name left blank so you can fill it in with whatever you wish in your head)

Word Count: 1,087

Written for Prompt: February 22 : key | silly | quest for @fluffbruary

February 22nd: Treasure Hunt (Ichthys/ MC)

___ frowned a little to herself as she headed out of the Planetarium at the end of the working day. From what Ichthys had hinted at whilst she was at the mansion the night before she had been expecting him to be here but there was no sign of her boyfriend.

Maybe he'd just lost track of the time? If work was just busy he'd probably still sneak away to tell her even if he couldn’t stay. An emergency on the other hand… swallowing hard with worry, she was about to head to the mansion to find out what was happening when Hiyori called out to her.

___ turned sharply around, blinking as she saw her best friend had an envelope in her hand. “Hiyori? What’s that?”

“It fell out of your bag as you were leaving! It feels like there’s a key in here so I figured it’s probably too important to just keep safe until tomorrow…”

“But I didn't…” ___ trailed off as she saw the style of the writing on the front along with telltale small doodles of fish in the corners. “Oh! Ichthys must have slipped this into my bag last night…”

Hiyori smiled widely as she handed her the envelope. “Well if your boyfriend has a surprise planned it's probably even more important I got this to you. Talking of boyfriends I best be going…”

“Yeah. Thanks, Hiyori!” 

After waving goodbye, ___ turned her attention back to the envelope and blinked as part of the contents did indeed turn out to be a key. Holding it with puzzlement, she took out the other item in the envelope, a piece of folded paper. Unfolding it, ___’s expression changed into a rather exasperated but happy smile.

Why on Earth was she even worried for a second? Anything work related she would have heard about. Ichthys wasn't here because he’d set her a surprise up. She read carefully through the note once more:

‘This key will open your treasure but first you have to find it. No searching for clues on an empty stomach!’

Smiling brightly, ___ rushed off in the direction of the Taiyaki stand they often used. That had to be what this first clue meant. It seemed the other had set a treasure hunt up for her. She laughed softly to herself as she approached the stand and glanced around for any sign of another clue, sure that if she’d found this note at the mansion the others would have told her to ignore it. But even if this did turn out to be a prank, she was sure Ichthys would have a reason for it.

Her smile faded a little when she couldn't find anything, but then she recalled that the note had technically told her to eat first. Ordering a red bean paste Taiyaki, ___ was about to bite into it when she saw a corner of paper sticking out. She broke it in half instead and carefully removed the clue. She blinked. Yes the Gods had powers but how did Ichthys know the stall holder was going to give her this precise one? She glanced around in case he was nearby but she couldn’t see him.

‘Betcha wondering how I pulled this off! Well that'd be telling! Hey, have you filled that notebook up yet?’

___ laughed lightly and ate her Taiyaki quickly, before heading off once more. Seemed like all the clues were taking her to places that they had visited. A warm feeling welled up inside her, realising that Ichthys had seemingly remembered everything that they had done together, no matter how small.

***

Half a dozen more clues later, ___ sat down on a nearby bench to catch her breath. It was great to remember all the places they had been, and her earlier thought had been proved correct. No doubt if she had powers of her own, Ichthys would have even included the further away places. But time was getting on now and part of her wished that Ichthys was with her to enjoy this. He must have set this all up in advance as she was pretty certain if he was following he would have got too impatient to see her by now and broken the illusion that way.

A little tired, she lifted her leg to take her shoes off for a moment, and her eyes widened as a piece of paper floated slowly down as she removed the left one. Quickly she picked it up.

‘Missing me? Then use this cheat. It's fiiine. After all, there's no place like home.’

Home? Well she couldn't get to the Heavens without help from another God and she doubted Ichthys would want her to go to the mansion when they'd planned to have a date tonight. 

Realising he must mean her apartment and she would have found the ‘treasure’ if she'd simply headed home for the evening, ___ couldn't help but laugh. Deciding she would waste no more time clue hunting, she put her shoes back on before heading quickly home.

***

In her apartment, ___ was greeted by a huge box in the middle of the room. Eyeing it a little suspiciously, she eventually found a keyhole. Taking the key she had been given at the start of all this, ___ placed it in the lock and turned it.

The lid sprung open and hundreds of helium filled balloons floated upwards and stuck to her ceiling. 

Initially looking at them in trepidation due to the sheer amount and wondering how on earth she'd clear her apartment up of this mess, her eyes widened as she noticed they all contained different star constellations and were giving off their own light.

“This is so pretty… oh but… where is Ichthys?” ___ murmured to herself, her elated mood deflating slightly. This was indeed a treasure to her, but…

“Right here, silly!” Ichthys replied, jumping out of the present box and landing by her side, grinning widely. 

___ turned to face him and hugged him tightly. “What were you doing in there?”

“Huh? I told you in the first note didn't I? That the key would open your treasure!”

Initially confused, ___ then shoved him back playfully as he stuck out his tongue. “So when you said treasure…”

“I meant myself, obviously! The balloons were just something to add to the surprise!” Ichthys answered, smiling brightly.

“... And you called me the silly one?” ___ murmured softly, joking around with him, before pulling the other into a deep and loving kiss.

[cleoselene]

All The Concerts!

my mom wrote down every concert she's ever been to and it's a LOT, like in the triple digits

and it got me thinking if I could name every concert I've ever been to? I am fearful I might forget some tho my MS memory sucks but here goes:

New Kids on the Block

Boyz II Men/MC Hammer

Tori Amos (x7)

Switchblade Symphony

KMFDM with Nivek Ogre

VNV Nation (x2)

Air Supply (x2)

Terri Clark (lol I hated country when my family dragged me to this one, I was in my peak Snob Goth era)

Garth Brooks (happened much later when I had learned to embrace country)

Peter Cetera

Sarah McLachlan

The Editors

Radiohead (i hated this hahah, it was so fucking boring like their music. My friend bought the tickets and I had hoped seeing them live would make it click. It did not. I was bored and cold because it was raining in Seattle)

Coldplay (was so much better than Radiohead, seethe snobby indie rock fans)

Regina Spektor

The Decemberists (literally the worst concert I've ever seen. Again I did not buy the tickets but my friend who liked going to indie rock shows always bought two tickets in hopes of getting a date and I was her backup if she didn't. To be clear even though this and Radiohead sucked, I did have a great time with my friend both times)

Cake

George Clinton & Parliament Funkadelic

Puscifer

Barry Manilow

ummm now I'm drawing a blank but I KNOW I've been to more shows and the stupid brain damage is making me forget. I've always been to see a fuck ton of tribute bands at this supper club, and tbh they were almost all really good. The Pink Floyd one especially. Also lol in middle school once this club I was in had a band come perform and they were like... a hair metal Christian band that took mainstream rock songs like "Living on a Prayer" by Bon Jovi and changed the lyrics to like... "LIVING 'CAUSE I PRAAYYYY" and it was fucking hilarious. It's driving me crazy tho because I know there are more actual real concerts I am forgetting -_-

so i guess if you count all the artists I saw multiple times, it comes to... *maths* 28 concerts? Which tbh does not feel like nearly enough.

on the bucket list:

Vienna Teng

Brandi Carlile

Portishead (lol this will never happen but a girl can dream)

Beyoncé

Taylor Swift

TOOL

A Perfect Circle

The Amazing Devil (which is somehow even less likely than Portishead)

SO I'LL MAKE THIS A MEME. Tell me which concerts you've been to, and tell me which concerts you feel like you MUST see before you die. @deathinthesun @an-ivy-covered-summer @swiftzeldas @sylvieons and whoever else wants to do it~

I did get Taylor tickets last year HOWEVER they were... beyond atrocious, the seats. Like, upper upper deck, BEHIND the stage with like no visibility, not even of the screens, because again: BEHIND. I had like three people trying to get tickets that day and 2/3 of us failed but my friend succeeded and she was like "do you want me to buy these? they're upper deck" and I was like yeah yeah that's okay! We can look at the screens! And then I saw the "OBSTRUCTED VISIBILITY" thing and looked at the layout and I was like...kind of devastated, honestly? It's really hard for me to do an outing like that physically, it was outdoors in April (which translates to HOT in Florida) and I just didn't see myself able to endure 5 or 6 hours at minimum in the heat without like, passing out and dying. Not to mention I'm still really scared of being in a large space with that many people because my disease-modifying drug destroys most of my immune system. I ended up selling them, and... buying my vinyl collection lol. Taylor got a lot of that money again because I bought a lot of her records. I'm kind of bummed that maybe I missed my chance forever, but again, I don't think I could have physically swung it. Plus, of the three nights she did Tampa, the show I was supposed to go to had meh surprise songs while the other 2 nights had AMAZING ones, so I know I would have been salty about that too. ONE DAY THO.

[grechsblog]

Oc? 👀

YOU FOOL, YOU ACTIVATED MY TRAP CARD !!! NOW ALL OF THE TUMBLR WILL KNOW I HAVE NO ARTISTIC TALENT!!!!!!!

On the serious note, thank you. Now, i can

1. Lok, a guy with amnesia

Appearance

I do not have a full ref of him because i cant draw coherent pictures as a reference.

Heres his colored floating head and a bunch of sketches i did in class with a pen and was still motivated to draw

And a silly little stickman rendition in that style i use in comics sometimes

Personality

Surprisingly good leader

A little cocky at times, but does know how to gain leverage against strong opponents

Does, in fact, like fighting. Weapon of preference is a sword, although he's also proficient in any object that can be used as weapon

Relies a lot on his reflexes though, sometimes maybe too much, which is a byproduct of the fact that his body knows more than he ever will.

Moderately caring person, although cannot pass by someone in distress without feeling a little guilty

Would die to save friend. Had died to save a friend. The world died for him to save a friend.

His teeth are not for show. Do not threaten what is his.

Story

His story is just as incoherent as are my attempts to give him full ref, only thing time it's intentional.

The premise is such: he wakes up in a world he only particularly recognises (but it feels Extremely off) with little memory of who he is, what he's supposed to do or go. The story itself is a journey to uncover his previous life, find his forgotten friends while gaining new ones, and discover the secrets of the world he inhabits!

What actually happens to him (as the story goes) is that he has a panic attack shortly after waking up, - because he doesn't even remember his own name! - fights a Big and Deadly Bird™ with his bare hands, face-plants in a mud puddle, has another panic attack after seeing his face in a river, kills some monsters with his teeth, dies, tears more monsters with the tools he scrapped from nothing and dies again. Yes, in that exact order. And it's not even the end of his first week here.

He's... Going through it

As of his ✨ mysterious backstory ✨.... It's incomplete :p

And by incomplete i mean that i have some bare bones structure of it, but its still mostly just... In the air. Because i love him as a blank slate that Knows something he Possibly Shouldn't (like craftsmanship, weapon usage, farming, ect.) that are so integrated in his muscle memory that it's literally so freaky actually. Man freak

Meta stuff

His appearance and general plot of his journey is actually based on a minecraft youtuber and his modded-mc-with-plot series that i watched at the time of creation. However, unlike the guy that won't allow his character to have any magnitude of personality and reflection of the inflicted trauma all his shenanigans surely caused, i'm rerouting the story Completely south of what actually happened there.

Although it is still happening minecraft, yes. Live with that.

Also, i classify my ocs in my head as siblings, from oldest (created earlier) to youngest (created later), and Lok is the fifth and the youngest in the family.

2. Enais "Ena" Crovn, girl that can survive Armageddon

Appearance

Imagine a generic long haired girl oc of a 11 years old that thought foxes and wings were cool, and you have basically Ena imagined fully

As you can tell.... This one is from 2017? Ish??

These ones are obviously new-er, although they are still entirely incomplete

I do not have Any new references of her except these rough sketches, and she needs Tremendous redesign because Generic Girl White Dress no longer fits, although not much have really changed with her design through the years

Design pending.

Personality

Honestly one of the least traumatised people out there. She's just living her life man.

She's just Just Some Guy.

Positive person, sometimes soft-spoken. Thinking if Fluttershy had to deliver mail instead of caring for animals, although, obviously, not to that extreme

Good with kids

Can fight but really, REALLY would rather just deliver mail, thank you very much

Loves flying

Story

Entirely unknown. Little me had at least 2 different stories for this gal, one of which was that she's an undertale-esque monster that just happened to look deceptively human and works as a mailman for the entire underground, the other being that she was a Freak Experiment of her insane scientist mother that sew wings and fox ears on her and gave her trauma

Surprisingly, the mailman (mailwoman?) one was the first one i actually came up with myself (while the Trauma route was influenced by a lot of gore mlp edits yt recommended me a lot around that time) and even there she was still cool and, by design, in genocide run would still fight the player somewhere in snowdin. So i think i will go with that one

Meta stuff

She IS actually second least traumatised oc i have. As per my ocs family tree, she's also the oldest - in fact, the very first to ever be made, so her knowledge of children comes from wrangling some ptsd and hyperactivity havers in the lot

There's actually third, secret backstory she has, which includes utdr multiverses we all know about. Although she still delivers mail there, she's actually the very same person who sends the asks to askboxes for character to receive through the entire multiverse, and she Is quite strong - because some universes are WILD and very much deadly and it was a necessity to learn to protect herself; which means she can survive anything under any circumstances.

Little me was based af for coming up with this

It is only two for now because i had not expected for it to take So Much Fucking Time to type out this little bits. Ugh

I need to make a list

[ghost--girlfriend]

hii, hope I'm not overstepping but I was thinking about ur selfship with Monika (that comic the other day was too cute🥺) and I was wondering if u have any lore for ur s/i?👀

does she take the place of mc in the game? or is she also part of the club before that? is she effected by Monika's interfering? how does she feel about Monika past? (glitching out the game and stuff)

I couldn't find an s/i sheet so I'm not sure what ur s/i's name or pronouns would be (sorry if I used the wrong ones😓)

sorry if this is annoying, feel free to delete this ask✌🏼

... and from that point things change from cannon! Of course the dialogue would be different, seeing as mc is a blank space and Astrid is a character tfyghj The game starts the same, going to school then being convinced by Sayori to join the Literature club! Astrid meets everyone and has cupcakes and tea, then goes home and writes a poem. Something about new beginnings and nervousness? over the course of 'act 1' Astrid spends time with everyone in the club, bonding with Natsuki with baking and Yuri with fantasy :] Oh!! And I want to talk about her design a little before I forget. Astrid has an english name like Monica, Dyed hair with natural roots and no hair accessories but Glasses and Earrings! Thats to make her a little different, but not completely. Like how Monica stands out with her natural hair, white bow and black socks and how the other club members match with dyed hair, colored accessories and white socks! Astrid is an in-between of those two :) Now is when things get a little messy. My idea is that Astrid comes in after everythings reset, with Monica trying to make things right(maybe there just was no mc in the first run, Monica figured out everything was fake, and just deleted everyone?) or a more pleasant version where everythings actually real rtyguhj(which is the main version tbh) I do have a handful of aus where say Astrid would already be in the club as a normal member(with her design changed to be more in-line with the others) or Astrid is real and is playing ddlc, gets to the end(where Monica is for real sentient) and falls in love from there. Or another one where Astrid and Monica both become sentient! OKAY tangent aside, back to story stuffs! Astrid had always had a little crush on Monica, but just a simple ahhhshes pretty one<3 as she talks to Monica more, the bigger her crush grows.. they just kind of click! Astrid likes how Monica is so approachable and that she leads so well, and Monica loves how real Astrid is(in the sentient or personality way dsfgh) and how understanding she is! After a while of pining, Sayori keys in that Astrids got a crush(not good at hiding it) and convinces Astrid to confess!! At which that confession comic happens, at the end of the day where (presumably) the other members have gone then they start dating anndddd yeah!!! In the post-reset universe whenever Astrid learns about.. everything? Freaked out completely freaked out. I mean, she gets *why* Monica did it all, but its still scary!!

[griffin-wood]

hello!!! if you’re still doing the infamous ask thingy: band name, performance, fans, wild card! for nyla pls <3

2nd take cause tumblr decide to erase it and freeze it welp. hiiii ri! thank youuu for sending in! <3 (infamous mc ask!)

Band name: How did they and the others come up with the band name? Has the name changed since it was founded?

oh god, band name questions. This one is kinda a blank slate still..because ngl, during the playthrough I just created their band name in an instant and it just stuck with me! but, i believe they would have a different band name during their time with seven, but i shall get back to you on that! but, their current name is 'the renegades'. In my head, it sounds very cool - but, for significant wise; i did look it up the meaning of the word, and it means like some kind of betrayal. It doesn't truly reflect to the band, but..I think it opted to the meaning of rebel. Music has always been a rebellion in some way, and for their band..i can imagine, it's just a rebellion to the well those who don't believe them. So, they're the rebels, the renegades. But, in terms of coming through the term, I feel like Nyla would definitely came across the word during one of her songwriting sessions and become very much attached to how mysterious it sounds...and it become a part of them somehow. and it fits!

Performance: What are they thinking and feeling while they’re performing? How do they act on stage?

For Nyla, when she's performing...and since the band's genre is alternative, it sorta have a mystique vibe to it. So, in her head during performance is like, a clean slate; there's like one goal which is the vision or known as the big picture for what she's been dreaming of. Like when she does on stage, she tries to picture herself and the band performing at somewhere bigger, so that's her imagery at. and that really become like a factor of her performance too. And what she's feeling the whole music in her veins. When she's performing, she is more of a let the voice and instrumental do the talking and it showed through her performance. The feeling of like goosebumps can be one of them, to listen to what they made and perform it to others. It's goosebumps, magical, and mysterious feeling at some sort. The way she acts on stage is like, confident mysterious one. Like, you'll never expect what's she's gonna perform, she tends to smile to the fans before the performance but as soon as the music starts and yeah, she's a whole different person in the best way possible.

Fans: How is their relationship with their fans? Do they go out of their way to interact? 

She has a good track record of the fans, especially on social media. She does react a lot to fans, like enjoys watching covers, the art, and definitely have came across maya's page before she even meet the girl before. But, she also has this fun habit to troll the hate pages, especially well.....the seven fans who has a dislike towards her, despite her being a fan of soft violence ofc. But, she enjoys interacting and living that...reality. like, "we got fans?!" but in a cool vibe yknow? but, with the botb drama with UW, well..i can see her limiting the interaction cause well, there's more fighting in her comments a lot and all, so she tends to become slower, but she does go out of her way to interact. I have this headcanon, like their first ever like big gig performance at this bar..and like there's the early fans, and like she hugged one of the fans who gave her a letter and like flowers to congratulate. she still kept both the letter..and dried the flowers, despite she doesn't really show that much of her nostalgia persona, she does care very deeply.

Wild card: Tell us something about your MC! Feel free to really just roll us over with an emotional steamroller and crush the souls out of our bodies, if you’d like. (You’re also welcome to choose one of the other questions to answer!)

gosh, i'm gonna lay out nyla and seven here mehe! so, miss nyla has this front like, she's so different around everyone else..and in front of seven. Like, she's like a switch not like a bad switch, she just...feels more comfortable to feel around seven. In general, nyla's personality is like uncaring (like hey idgaf, like she does not truly give an f towards the haters and all that jazz) and flirty outside but everytime she's around seven like in proximity wise. She feels SO MANY THINGS, like those she couldn't control too. But, after the break-up..she just keeps all of those feelings on her own, reminsicing it on her own, and letting well the love and every single feeling she has for seven flow through her. that photoshoot with seven and Blake like that honestly she would almost have a breakdown there and then (she already has one internally, but outside...she's calm cool and collected.)

Seven was like...some sort her anchor with well, the shitty parents and all that. And like after the breakup and the band breaking apart, let's just say...she loses that anchor and has to stand on her own. And this is where she's good and bad at it, in front of people and heck, even orion, she's the master of fake it till you make it, idc idgaf, who is even seven lawless? but, like in private..she just would have that silent moment and like..just to take a breath, and sometimes when she's at home..feeling a bit lonely on her own, she wears one of seven's old shirt that he never bothered to take it back. she would go through that blackout, of emotions of losing someone. and, when she's out of her place, out of her thoughts..she's okay again. I think Rowan might guess that, noticing that. Hell, maybe one day she'll tell Orion what happened with her and seven, but like she hides that how she deeply feels cause like focus on the fame, the cameras and everything (she's already a pro at that so dont worry!!!!) But hey, seven lawless will always be her weak link.

also phew that's so long omg! i'm gonna add a seven x nyla song i had in their playlist; which i believe some verses would fit them in some sort of way! (the chorus, giving me so many vibes..and seven vibes also???)

[how-soon-can-they-kiss]

A Soft Introduction To Something I'm Making

Word Count: 2159 T/W, C/W: Drugs and alcohol briefly mentioned, main character being beaten up, implied homophobia, swearing, using sex worker slurs (MC is not a sex worker), being kicked unconscious Notes: This is my own original story, the world and its lore is kind of shaky, so expect some things to probably change in any future one-shots. Kind of a non-canon, canon thing going on at the moment while I figure things out!

Characters: Dorian, Evander

   Dorian reasoned that life was all about devouring. Either eat or be eaten. It was easy to be the consumer, taking people into the palms of his hands and his nest. They would always be attracted to his bike, scars, and especially his easy-going demeanour. He relied on the other beautiful people around him. Feeding off their outgoing personalities to lead him around while he picked the roses from their bushes.

Nothing else mattered as he absorbed himself in the bodies. The music was so loud that the bass made the glass coffee table buzz, and his ears faintly rang during song changes. When it came to parties, the drugs and booze were a plus; he frequently became intoxicated with the others, indulging in the same bottles until there was a pile. Nothing could compare to the sensation he felt while dancing and sliding his hands along someone's neck and shoulders. 

Everywhere they touched felt like the summer sun, making him forget what it was like to be cold. During these moments, he was blank, clinging onto them and letting their hands melt him away. He never bothers to learn their names, preferring to take what he can and leave them to find another.

He desired more of his cake no matter how much he ate; something was wrong, and all Dorian could do was satisfy his craving until he couldn't feel it anymore. Nothing he did was ever enough, his hunger staying just as ravenous night after night.

   A right hook knocks him onto the filthy, damp tarmac, where debris and grime have been crushed into the crevices. The frat house lining the alleyway added to the stench.

Dorian laughs as he reaches up from the ground, his palms scratched and littered with loose pebbles from the fall. As he glanced up at the large man, his nose spilt blood all over his mouth and shirt, his palm collecting part of it. His teeth are stained with blood as he smiles.

"How about supper, just the two of us? A working man like you deserves a nice little place."

His attempts to stand are futile, as each time he is kicked back down, the man’s steel-toe boots penetrate harsher than the ordinary kick Dorian was used to. He lays down when one of the kicks connects with his stomach, and he heaves, leaning against his forearms to keep the chips and dip at bat, his entire body shivering from the pain.

"Not such a pretty sight now that you're on the ground bleeding like that, are you?"

The man spits next to Dorian's trembling body, staring down at him as he gathers his breath, tears mixed with the blood on his face as he stares down at the asphalt. The booze raging through his system did nothing to soften the blows.

"Your brother finds my vulnerability charming. I'd bet he'd still kiss me with blood on my mouth." Dorian hisses and swallows, his throat feeling dry and tight.

The man calmly walks over, kneeling down to grab Dorian by his curls, hairspray crunching as his head is dragged back by his roots. His smile was long gone, replaced by a scowl as he stared into the eyes of the man hovering over his face.

"I’ve warned you before, slut." The pejorative rolled off the stranger's tongue smoothly, "I didn't care who you talked to, as long as you kept your soiled hands away from my brother. You don't listen too well."

"What your brother does is none of your business, in my opinion."

The man scoffs, shoving Dorian's face into the tarmac, gradually increasing the pressure. Dorian was punished every time he lashed back at the man, rocks biting into his cheek.

“Don’t go near him again. I’ve heard plenty of rumours about you whore.” He steps away from Dorian, the gravel crunching beneath his feet as he pivots to return to the party.

“You kiss your mommy with that mouth? I’m sure she’d be embarrassed if you said such things around her.” Gravel scuffs against the ground, and before he can understand the fast-approaching feet a steel-toed boot leaves no room for negotiation as the rubber strikes his skull, and Dorian collapses unconscious on the ground.

   When his eyes crack open, all he can taste is rubber, and he squints, the still dark alleyway being too bright before he fully closes his eyes for a few minutes longer, his body gradually awakening to severe aches.

Pressing his forehead against the asphalt leads him to jerk upright, his hand reaching up to touch the dried and tacky blood, moaning as his hair is lathered in the same stickiness. His fingers brush across the wound, the pain so intense that his vision flashes white. Unable to process anything, he pulls his hand away till it is again laid on the ground.

He stands carefully, leaning against the wall for support as each movement reveals a new throbbing and uncomfortable spot. The sun was rising, and his ride had long since vanished. He takes his time adjusting to standing, nausea increasing while he attempts to suppress it, staring at the ground. Dorian walks down the sidewalk towards his house, the taste of boot lingering behind the acidic sensation that’s growing on his lips.

Dorian took a moment to recognise the gate of the apartment complex before punching his code into the keypad and making his way through the parking lot.

The elevator is calm, muffling any extra noise as the doors slowly close. Dorian punches his floor number. He selects his floor number and leans against the railing. He couldn’t look at himself in the reflective metal, knowing full well that he looked just as bad as he felt.

It had been weeks since he had stood in front of the cheap plywood door, his keys jingling in his jacket pocket as he nervously flipped them over in his fingers. With a sharp exhale to ease his anxiety, he pushes his key into the lock and opens the door, grimacing at the smell of cooking food and the news playing on the TV.

“Expect thunder and lightning today, starting at around 9 and lasting…”

Dorian toes off his shoes at the entryway, trying not to make too much noise and hoping the newscast would drown anything.

He sneaks around the corner, dragging his hand along the wall, halfway to the toilet, and his chest feels lighter because he thinks he's gone unnoticed.

“Dorian?”

His steps falter and then slow to a stop as he leans against the wall. Everything hurts, and his head is pounding.

“A new rift opened this morning around 5 a.m., tearing Edoth in half, and citizens are scrambling to…”

“That’s the second cavern just today, how many do you think will come out?” His roommate's voice is quiet.

They both watch the live video in silence, people gathering around a massive crack in the ground and peering down into it. Some lie on their stomachs or go over with ropes in their hands, pulling humanoids from the darkness.

“I need to bathe,” Dorian interjects before his flatmate can speak again, and he walks to the bathroom, closing the door with a crisp click as news readers continue to speak over the footage.

The warm water lulls Dorian to sleep several times, his head resting against the wall. The steam moistens the blood once more, causing it to smear on the tiles as he shifts around. After thirty minutes, Dorian is sound asleep in the cooling water, bruises developing on his stomach and sides.

The door creaks open, followed by a sigh as it is fully pushed open.

Evander stands in the doorway, peering down at Dorian in the bathtub, taking his time to look over his chest and ribs, admiring the markings that complimented his physique.

   Dorian crawled out of a rift sixteen years ago, his skin so black not even the sun could reflect off of it. He was the first of hundreds that day when a new species emerged from a pit of darkness, forever altering Cleo and the people who lived on her.

They begin as blank slates, all with similar markings on their bodies, with just slices of colour, indicating that they had some form in all of the blackness.

Evan was in his fourth year of pursuing his research-oriented doctorate. When the incident occurred, delaying graduation by two years. It shook the ground and caused parts of his school to collapse, briefly halting his studies until his lecture hall was repaired.

They quickly gathered around the gaping maw in the ground, and Evan was the first to notice a hand clutching and digging into the grass near the edge Panic sprang up in his throat as he rushed over, yelling that someone had fallen and needed help. However, his shouts died in his throat as he helped the person up, and all he met with was void. Their form was difficult to discern, almost appearing two-dimensional in the 3D landscape.

As he recoils, he wavers. From the grass, bright blue eyes peered up at him, and something so kind shone through them. Nothing could make him regret the day he sat down and smiled at the new creature. His voice was quiet as he shared his name, and the eyes squinted with brilliance in response.

   Evan approaches the bathtub, crouching down and studying Dorian’s body more closely, dismayed at the dark green bruises. When he sees the blood on his friend’s forehead, his spine goes rigid, and he cautiously reaches up to push his curls to the side, revealing the wound on his head.

Dorian’s eyes flicker open, he grunts at the sudden presence next to him, the water sloshing as he sits up a little more in the tub, gently brushing the hand away as he yawns, his body shaking with the intensity of it.

“You look disgusting, you need to take a proper shower.”

Evan rotates Dorian’s head around, checking for additional wounds as he holds his face in his fingers, scrutinising every inch of flesh before making eye contact.

“You’re mad,” Dorian states bluntly, attempting to find a comfortable posture in his friend’s grip.

“Of course, I’m mad, Dorian. Someone beat the shit out of you and I haven’t seen you in weeks.” Evan scoffs, pulling away as he reaches over to a nearby cabinet and retrieves a washcloth, dips it in the lukewarm water and carefully begins to clean around Dorian’s wound.

Dorian hums softly, leaning into Evan’s palms as he holds his face again, watching his face as he concentrates on cleaning the blood off without scrubbing at the inflamed region.

The silence is soothing as Dorian allows himself to be tended to, his hair thoroughly scrubbed through. The water reactivates the sour smell of hairspray before artificial kiwi overwhelms and gradually washes it away.

“Take a shower, this water is disgusting.”

Evan takes a step back after lathering Dorian’s hair, wiping his hands on the soiled towel before tossing it in the laundry basket and drying his hands on his pants.

Dorian sits in the tub while the water drains, casually turning on the shower head once it reaches a certain level and watches the water splash over the tiled floor before draining down the drain embedded in the tiles.

“Can you stand?” Evander asks with a tone of worry evident in his voice as he offers his hand, leaning down to brace himself in case Dorian fell or couldn’t bear his weight.

Dorian gratefully takes his hand in his and stands with ease, the last of his grime and blood finally rinsing off, as does the soap clinging to his hair. Evander rests against the wash basin, glancing down at the tiles while Dorian cleans himself, using the wall as support.

He needs help stepping out of the tub, Evan carefully holds him under his arms and practically lifts him out, covering him in a towel, exhaustion evident on Dorian’s face. Dorian is enveloped in a familiar blankness as he settles in, allowing himself to relax against Evan.

Evan starts squeezing his hair with the towel, only getting a few good fistfuls before wet hands on the back of his neck distract him from his task. He looks down at Dorian, right into friendly and admiring blue eyes as his fingers wet the short hair on the back of his head, pulling him down to meet for a kiss.

“I love you, Evan…” Dorian’s voice is quiet as he pulls back, flinching as Evan resumes his drying.

“I know.”

[clegfly]

Just had a design epiphany for my MERGEMORI AU…

(warning: big info dump)

As I’ve mentioned before in an earlier post, I wasn’t really feeling my design for FURUWA. He’s meant to be the MC of the AU, yet something about his design just didn’t look right to me. I just couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but I think I know now.

he just fit in too much with my idea of headspace.

to me he just looked too normal. To a part of the world he was in. He didn’t stand out enough, and even then he didn’t blend in well. One thing I’ve always found neat in OMORI is how well OMORI’s monochrome colour palette is able to stand out so smoothly against the whimsical, vibrant atmosphere of the rest of headspace. But that had a thematic reason to be like that, so unless there was good reason, that option was shut off to me. And anyways, I felt it wouldn’t be original enough to stand out against other AUs if I did it.

until I got thematic reasoning randomly when doodling for designs.

you see, a bit of me explaining FURUWA here, but as he’s a combination of both SUNNY and BASIL, he takes traits from both of them, meaning I am tasked with evenly distributing their hobbies and interests. FURUWA likes plants and gardening. But FURUWA also has a passion for drawing, and art. His sketchbooks replace a lot of the utilities in headspace, like the photo album, the save basket etc. so I thought about it for a bit and then I came up with a neat little design I’m pretty satisfied with.

FURUWA’s monochromatic, mostly white colour, represents a blank canvas.

before he uses it to express his creativity, or whatever he’s thinking. A blank canvas. An unfinished sketch. Something void of colour, of life, only a mere idea that failed to be expressed by its artist. I thought, hey, maybe that’s be nice, and sit better with me than his current design.

so I’ll post an updated version of the chart when I get the look just right. I really hope this looks good because I’m a bit bankrupt in terms of good designs straight off the bat, but I’m trying my best!

P.S I’ve finally decided on his name, and changed it from the placeholder that was FURUWA. His name will be KYAN from now on, and I’d love to explain that but my phones really low on battery so I’ll have to do that later lol. Thanks for reading my rambles!

[jules-makes-stuff]

After having read several mediocre to bad horror novels I think I've figured out a new peeve of mine when it comes to horror.

Listen, I know most stories start out with the MC having *a flaw* and then learning a *lesson* by the end to arrive at a different personality, usually a better one.

But I keep running into this being done in horror books and it always feels so jarring. Like Elmo telling me to love myself, while a kind old lady is being graphically torn apart by hounds behind him. I cannot imagine someone undergoing that level of intense, reality altering trauma and come out of it a 100% *better* person. It also feels a bit... self centered I guess, to position your personal growth against a tragedy. And usually this doesn't bother me, but somehow in horror the contrast between the baby eating werewolf and the "I am more than my past!" message is so violent and comes in such quick succession, it throws me off balance every time.

I guess it's also a question of taste. I prefer my horror mcs to either be a blank canvas that lets us focus on the world unraveling or a fascinating person whose layers are stripped back, and simply observing them is enough. I also prefer the change in personality to be either a negative arc or a neutral one, the same a sane person undergoes when they default to adrenaline and instincts. If the arc is positive, I want it to be about hope and love in a terrible place, not something written on a corporate motivational poster.

The worst horror epilogue I ever read had the MC go from not wanting kids, being in a failling relationship (100% by her fault), knowing she blacks out at times and kills people she dislikes (like her crush's new gf or her ill family member) and then murdering someone in front of her neighbor to being happily married with kids all named after tragic dead family members and being bffs with her neighbor. She faced no legal, social or emotional consequences or reprecussions for anything she did or that happened, and indeed just became the perfect version of herself. I just hate that, this idea that the MC can just shrug off everything terrible that has happened to her, like raindrops. That if you ARE traumatised by things you are just weak. Again, it is bizare, jarring, unserious and goes against what I want in horror.

[bibbykins]

Double Date

A/N: Hello my dears! I'm not done with the Jin and/or Hobi confession yet but I did write this little flashback last week and think I'm finally ready to post it! This is the situation in which Jimin discovered MC's reaction to yelling, just to clarify. As always, please hop into my ask box and give me some of that lovely feedback!

Note: This is a flashback as part of the drabble series The Household's Bunny, which I recommend reading the installments of prior to this one

Word Count: 4.2k

Pairing: Soft Yandere! Jimin x Chubby! Reader

Warnings: Lying, fatphobia, usage of the word "fat" as an insult, talks of sex, yelling, vomiting, implied previous trauma, bad friend, loser date, verbal argument, implied stalking, yandereish behavior

Summary: On a double date was not how Jimin imagined your first date with him going. Let alone, a double date in which you both are with someone else. The torture of sitting next to his ex and watching you with another man was well worth it to see you up close. He could only hope you and his "date" don't mind his blatant staring at you.

Jimin often wondered how he ended up so stupid sometimes. From prodigy orphan to absolute idiot. It was a little tragic. Here you were, back from the hospital, a smile on your face, sitting across the table from him… and he was on a date with your friend Yoora.

Sure, Yoora was fine, but she wasn’t you. That’s why they had broken up in the first place. He just… didn’t like her. Of course, he omitted the fact was that he liked someone else.

You, on the other hand, were on a date with some lowlife he hadn’t even bothered to remember the name of. Yoora had begged Jimin to go on a date, to which he vehemently denied. He had dated Yoora and things fizzled out quickly, so he saw no value in going on a date again. He only budged with her begging when she said it was for you, who was apparently too nervous to be on a date alone with this other guy. He sprung at the chance to see you outside of class, something he could only hope Yoora didn’t notice. Although, Jimin couldn’t help but wonder why you would go on a date with someone you weren’t comfortable being alone with, but maybe he was just bitter you were going on a date with someone that wasn’t him.

You flashed Jimin a brief smile in between your chat with Yoora, making his mind go blank. Fuck, you were so pretty. You wore a simple white turtleneck with a brown plaid skirt and brown loafers with white socks to match. You looked unbelievably cute, even against the aged neon fabric of the chairs at the bowling alley. Not that your date appreciated just how divine you looked, hardly paying you any mind, instead looking around constantly and only really responding to Yoora.

Not that Jimin was being much better to Yoora. His eyes were constantly fixated on you, but both you and Jimin unaware of this blatant fact. He hadn’t been this close to you outside of the classroom in… well, basically ever. He watched with hearts in his eyes as you bowled your second gutter ball. He laughed as you bowed cheekily before returning to the table right as your date went to bowl.

“I’m so full!” Yoora exclaimed as you sat back down, the pizza you both agreed to share only having two slices out of it as you reached to make it a third, “I don’t know how you can eat more than one slice, y/n! Good for you.” She giggled obnoxiously as your moves faltered in setting the pizza on your plate.

Jimin’s eyes landed on Yoora’s form for the first time in the whole night with a displeased look. Her form shrunk under his sharp glare and any future taunts she had planned died on her tongue as you searched for the words to say, “She’s just keeping herself nourished for me, aren’t you babe?” Your date spoke with a slimy voice as he slid in the booth next to you and Jimin watched confusion fill your face. Jimin’s smile noticeably dropped.

"It's a little silly to imagine everything she does is for you, no?" Jimin gave your date a pointed look, all with a smile on his face, as your date also shrunk, nodding awkwardly.

The most input your date ever gave to you directly was about how hot you were or to chide at your poor bowling skills. It was a little painful watching your smile fade throughout the date, and Yoora joining in to try and make you feel even worse wasn’t helping. Jimin couldn't imagine a scenario in which any of this would make you happy, and he just couldn't hold his tongue the entire time.

“I’m just hungry.” You shrugged, figuring Jimin was just being a gentleman in lightly scolding Jihoon, “I eat when I’m hungry, hence the pizza.” You spoke simply as you took another bite. You knew what Yoora was doing. Passive-aggressive slights to your weight in front of romantic partners were not shocking to you in the slightest.

This was why you didn’t want to go on a double date with Yoora. Sometimes she was nice and funny, but other times she was like a mean girl straight out of a teen movie. This was why you considered Yoora more acquaintance than a friend since she only talked to you when she had no other friends around. This dynamic was fine enough since you hadn’t made any friends in college, so having someone to interact with was nice enough, but you drew the line at her getting this intimately involved. However, she insisted she should bring herself and Jimin along for your safety. You had joked you’d like to see Jihoon try to carry you away to kidnap you, but she didn’t laugh.

It was ironic that your weight was only funny when she was making the joke.

Yoora shrunk a bit as she watched a smile grace Jimin’s features again while you ate, “I’m gonna use the bathroom.” She spoke hurriedly out of nowhere and you gave her a small wave.

Your date resumed his survey of the building before his eyes caught sight of something and went wide, “Shit, a friend from my bio lab is here.” He murmured quite loudly before turning to you, “I’ll be right back.” He spoke in a similarly rushed tone as he made a bee-line to the restroom.

You gave Jihoon a weak smile, waving him away when you realized he didn’t even look at you for a response before getting up. Well, there goes another liar. Last night it was, “Baby, you’re so beautiful. I could see myself marrying you. Let me take you on a date and then we can come back to my place and seal the deal.” You were no longer so naive as to think a simple handjob would make Jihoon a romantic, but you did hope it would be enough motivation for him to reciprocate with skill. You hated liars, especially liars who do it to get into your bed. On top of that a horny liar with no skill.

Jimin noticed your date dodge the line of vision of his friend and sneak to the bathrooms and frowned, “Why is he going to the bathroom if his friend is right there?” He mused to himself.

“To hide.” You sighed, making Jimin jump, shocked you heard him. You looked up and saw his confusion before sighing, “He doesn’t want to be seen with me, so he’s going to the bathroom.”

Still short-circuiting from the direct eye contact he was making with you, he sputtered, “Wha- Why would-”

“Look at me.” You poked the sliver stomach between the hem of your top and the top of your skirt. Jimin admired the plush skin before snapping himself from the trance.

He shrugged, “I am, and it makes even less sense.” He finally had the determination to hold eye contact with you without his mind going into overdrive and right as you opened your mouth to respond, your phone vibrated.

You looked down at it with a frown, “Yoora wants me to meet her outside.” You mumbled, before looking up at Jimin, “I don’t think I was supposed to say that to you.” You looked at him with a sorry look, “I’ll be back.”

You pushed the front doors open to see Yoora standing with her arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently as she looked around, as if she didn’t send you the text message a mere minute ago. She caught sight of you and her eyes went wide before settling into a smug gaze, “Ah, there you are!” She smiled and it was sickly sweet, “I wanted to tell you Jihoon and I are leaving.”

Ah, she must have been looking around for his car to come around. Well, that’s saving you the awkward conversation of rejecting him, so you shrugged, “Okay.”

Evidently not wanting the nonchalant reaction you gave her she scoffed, “Seriously? You have nothing to say?” For some reason, Yoora would sometimes make it her mission to push your buttons, usually, this was by making you flustered, so you’re not sure what happened to spur on such unadulterated malice.

However, you didn’t really have the energy to dissect it so you shrugged a little more incredulously, “What is there to say? No?” You scoffed, “You guys are consenting adults, you both made a choice-”

“God, you’re so annoying!” Her increase in volume made you jump and also caught the eyes of fellow students and unaffiliated customers just trying to have a night out.

Nevertheless, you blinked wildly, “Me?!” You guffawed, “You’re the one that brought me out here to tell me you’re ditching me and your date?” The whole thing felt so ridiculous.

“Yes, you!” Her hands gestured to you wildly, “My date is oogling you and so I decide to seduce yours and you just say ‘okay’?!” Her volume was increasing and you could feel a familiar nausea pooling in your stomach, “Let me be pissed at you for stealing my date!”

“It’s not my fault I’m hot, nor does that make you less hot.” You countered, not really believing it was you Jimin was interested in, but more so Yoora he wasn’t interested in, “He just doesn’t like you. You said you knew that.” You pointed out, making her falter because you were right. Yoora told you Jimin wasn’t interested in her but she was trying to change that despite your words of caution.

“You? Hot? You’re fat!” Ah, there it was. She was evidently running out of sound reasons to be mad at you but was still not ready to just face the fact that she felt shitty her date looked at the fat girl more than he looked at her.

You couldn’t contain your laugh, “Oh, no shit? I am?” You mockingly looked down at your form, which only seemed to fan the flames.

“Just get fucking mad at me!” She shouted, wiping the smile off of your face

You sucked your teeth, “Stop yelling. You know that yelling makes me-”

She rolled her eyes before losing her mind, “What do I know about you?! You won’t even tell me why you were in the hospital-”

Now you were getting really queasy and annoyed, wanting this to end because at this point she was just yelling at you to feel like less of an asshole, “Because you’ll just tell everyone, and it’s not their business- or yours for that matter!” You felt a little bad criticizing her gossipy nature, but you knew you were going to puke any minute now.

“I’m your friend!” She spat, ironically, in a rather unfriendly manner

You scoffed, “You’re going home with my date!”

This seemed to catch her off guard, almost, almost, making her realize she was simply being an asshole, but she stuck to her guns, “He-He doesn’t even like you!”

“And yet, if we’re such good friends, you’re still going home with him to what? Prove a point to me?!” You were exasperated as you heard his obnoxious car pull up behind you, “I know now he doesn’t like me, that’s what the date was for!” You were beyond tired as you watched her eyes dart between you and the red Mustang, “But now I know that you don’t really like me either.” You sighed and this made her sight settle on your form, her gaze significantly softer.

“Y/n…” Her voice was lower, surrendering.

“It’s fine. You’re not required to like me.” You insisted, “I just wish you wouldn’t lie about it.” This time, you felt a little hurt at your own words, but the bile in your throat wouldn’t give you much time to reflect on it, especially as Jihoon honked his horn, like the gentleman he was, “Well? Go on.” You gestured to the obnoxious car as Yoora got in with her head down.

Not even bothering to wait for them to drive away, you ran to the alley on the side of the building with a hand clasped over your mouth. The moment you made it to the dim-lit hallway of brick, you puked your guts out. The bile burned your throat, but you could still feel a careful hand pulling your hair back ever so gently as another hesitantly rubbed your back. The touch was calming and void of judgment. You figured someone assumed you were drunk and was used to being a hero. However, when you were finally done and stood up, you were faced with the most sought-after man of the Arts department.

“Are you… okay?” Was the first thing that came out of his mouth and you had no real energy to be all that embarrassed. Vomiting took all the life out of you almost every time.

You simply turned back to look at the mess you made and cringed, “Oh shit.” You spoke slowly, “I should clean that up.” You sputtered.

Jimin merely smiled and shook his head as you turned back to him, “It’s an alleyway, come on, someone will just make a worse mess in an hour.” He handed you a water bottle, “Go ahead and rinse.” You looked at him with pleading eyes, his looks were more than enough to make you feel flustered. He seemed to read your eyes as he turned around.

“Thanks.” You spoke up after you rinsed, “But-”

“Let me drive you home.” He waited to hear your footsteps behind him before pressing onward.

He ignored your protests the whole way to his car, brushing them off with a wave of his hands. You had figured it was just him being cool, but the reality was that he was mentally hyping himself up. Now with his anger at Yoora and your date dissipated, he was back to a bumbling mess when it came to you, even if the nagging worry of what could have happened to you to make you throw up at yelling was an ever-present weight he took on his shoulders. The girl of his dream would be in his car, sitting right next to him, and that was enough to make him short-circuit. His face was getting redder and redder just thinking about it. Not that your polite and melodic voice insisting you can just take the bus helped any. Surely you had to know how beautiful you were? He never doubted you knew until today, and the notion made him frown but also, thankfully, calm down.

By the time he opened the door for you, any hints of redness on his face were obscured by the cloak of night over the sky and the dim street lamps. You gave him a short smile and he had to fight a squeal in his throat. Instead, you were met with a strained look, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he even liked you or if he was just being kind. You entered your address on his phone and he feigned looking at the route as if he wasn't familiar with the area. He then texted one of his housemates a name and a license plate number for information and wordlessly began driving.

You simply looked out the window as he seemingly studied his phone, not wanting to make his possible dislike of you worse. Although, you would prefer him not to like you at this point. You were kind of over people “liking” you by now. Jihoon had done no less than confess his undying love for you mid-orgasm and you were ashamed to admit how excited that had made you feel despite the emptiness that could be felt in the air. You had convinced yourself that could just be how love felt. How would you know any otherwise? Part of you knew you were deluding yourself, even if you would never know what love felt like, you knew it wouldn’t feel like that. It wouldn’t feel like the bittersweet taste of settling for less than you deserve in exchange for an escape from the all-consuming loneliness that surrounded you no matter who you hooked up with.

“I’m, uh, sorry Yoora did that to you. Jimin blurted out, making you look to him and making him clench the wheel.

“It’s not your fault.” You reassured him, “The whole point of the date was to see if this guy actually ‘loved’ me, or even liked me for that matter.” You couldn’t stop yourself from talking, “That post nut clarity must have made him realize he’s a huge liar.” You couldn’t hide the bitterness in your words before you took a breath, “So, how much did you hear?”

“I walked out when I heard her calling you fat.” He stumbled against the words, clearly uncomfortable even repeating Yoora.

You hummed, “Yeah, well, I guess you’re all caught up.” You looked back out the window and Jimin could relax ever so slightly, “I don’t know how I can make her feel threatened. She’s so… loveable.” He frowned at this, “I know I’m pretty, but that doesn’t make me loveable.” He wanted so desperately to say you are loveable. If you weren’t, what had he spent the last year doing? He wanted to slam on the breaks and finally tell you how captivating you are in more ways than one, but the fear of misstepping caged him into his spot as you continued on, “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that no one is obligated to love me.” You seemed to be letting all the exhaustion hit you, not even bothering to stop yourself, “It’s okay. I have the next best thing, sex.” Even you seemed to be unconvinced, “Maybe if I ask everyone for sex I’ll feel as content as Jihoon.” You seemed to be getting more and more upset as you dwelled on the topic.

“Why haven’t you asked me for sex then?” Jimin wanted to slam his head on the wheel and call it a night when he heard his voice speak what should have been an offhand thought.

You giggled a bit at this, relieving Jimin a bit, before shrugging, “I don’t want to use you like I let people use me.” You blew a breath, "You called my bluff. I don't wanna use anyone."

“Why do you let-”

“I, too, get horny and lonely.” You laughed bitterly, “People just lie to me that it’s something more when it’s not. Thank goodness I’m a psych major, or else I might believe them each time.” Judging by the melancholy in your words, Jimin doubted you didn’t not believe some of them, and the notion tore his heart in half. However, he was so pinned down by his fear, he couldn’t conjure the words needed.

“I mean, there are people out there who would like you and not just your body.” He spoke and he swore he was breaking a sweat by now.

You shrugged again, unconvinced again, “I’m glad you never asked me for sex.” You murmured and he glanced at you.

“Why?” Was he not your type?

“Because I think you’re a good person,” You gave him one more smile as he pulled up to your apartment complex, “and I’d like to keep thinking that.” You placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, “Thank you, for everything tonight.” He merely nodded in acknowledgment, throat strangled with a million emotions as he watched you go into your apartment.

Jimin let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding and drove, as if on autopilot, and let his head plop lightly on the wheel, “Pathetic display, Jimin.” He scolded with a strained voice. He hated this about him. He hated that each time emotions got too real, each time he could not hide behind a charming smile and playful banter, he would choke up. He had been a dance prodigy since birth, since getting scouted by a private school, since Mona adopted him for his career to go even further. And yet, he couldn’t confess to the girl he’s liked for over a year. Instead of staring, he wished he had just asked if you were okay.

He had never imagined you would be nearly as lonely as you felt. Anyone on campus would look at your smile and assume you were doing peachy, but by now, with his observations, he could see when you were faking. Why had he never approached you more to make you smile for real? Why did he remain complicit in fuckers like Jihoon and Yoora’s plight to make you feel less than the perfect girl you are? Who had instilled such an intense reaction to yelling in you? How many times have you thrown up in an alley alone because of the people who knew how to use someone as caring as you? Maybe if he had sat down and eaten that cookie with you, he would be driving the both of you home together.

He wondered if he would ever get the chance to do so at this point.

-------

“...Jimin?” Your voice snapped him from his thoughts as he looked at you, all dolled up and a little sweating from performing your final for the class he was your TA for, “You still here?” You giggled as you waved your hand in front of his eyes. You had been the last one to perform, so you figured his brain was fried from watching dozens of dance performances.

His smile grew with yours as he caught your hand in his, interlacing your fingers, “Yeah, I’m here, just got swept away in your performance is all.” He responded cooly and you rolled your eyes mockingly, “I’m serious, it was beautiful.” He brought your hand up, placing a kiss on your palm.

“Well, I had a wonderful training buddy.” You interlocked your fingers behind his neck as he laced his fingers on the small of your back. The PDA made you feel giddy, like a girl in her first relationship showcasing her wonderful boyfriend to the world, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He studied your face, your form, your everything for a moment. He basked in the glory of having someone as beautiful as you within his reach at long last. He thought back to each practice session and each kiss that came with it and couldn’t help the glee that spread in his chest. The glee was only further amplified by the very emotion on your face and he couldn’t fathom how he ever lived with himself seeing a fake smile on your face most days.

“You know I love you, right?” He blurted, making both of your eyes widen. Had he seriously just done that? Had he seriously confessed his love to you while the rest of your dance class waited to be dismissed? The air was still before he spoke again, “Could you do me a favor and beat the shit out of me?” He asked, making you giggle. Your joy was contagious and he found himself laughing too, in spite of the millions of emotions at confessing his love so suddenly.

You couldn’t fight the smile on your lips even if you tried. There was something so weightless about Jimin’s love, yet so meaningful. Where Yoongi had been intense and passionate, Jimin was bashful yet honest. It was this floaty feeling that made you lean up to his ears and whisper, “I love you too.” You beamed at him with a genuine smile and his heart soared.

“You do?” He asked excitedly, “You don’t have to, you know?” He reassured you and you could only chuckle.

“Oh well, if I don’t have to…” You joked as you moved to pull away from him, but he pulled you closer.

“I take it back- You have to.” He hurriedly spoke, “If… If you mean it.”

You nodded, a blissful smile on your face as you leaned up to kiss him, “I mean it, and it’s really nice being able to know you mean it too.” You whispered in his ear and in a moment of pure joy, he lifted you and spun you around, not caring about who saw or stared. You squealed at this, enjoying the moment of careless affection. He set you down with a slow kiss and you couldn’t help but melt into his form.

“You ready to go home?” He asked with a gleeful tone. You nodded excitedly and watched with hearts in your eyes as he dismissed the class with his hand in yours. He was always happy to display your relationship, even telling the professor in case he didn’t want Jimin grading your work. He announced it to the class with a blissful look and posted you all over any and all social media accounts he had. He had never been more proud to have someone by his side, and it made you emotional more than once. He held your hand in his as you walked to the car, swinging your arms just to hear your melodic laugh.

You checked your phone as Jimin closed the car door when you got in, “Oh, Hobi’s flight got delayed until tomorrow and Jin has to stay late tonight.” You mumbled, deep in thought for a moment, “And everyone else has something going on, so I guess it’s just me and you for dinner. One last night of freedom before you have to be busy too.” He placed a hand on your thigh as he drove and he'd be lying if he said he didn't have to mentally hype himself up to do it each time.

“Do you want to pick up dinner or just cook at home?” He asked cooly, masking his sheer glee at the domestic implications in his question.

You hummed, “I can cook something if you want,” You noted before a mischievous smile grew on your face, “My love.” You teased the pet name, making Jimin brake abruptly as he was getting out of the parking spot, his arm holding your body back from pushing forward. You gasped before you dissolved into laughter.

“Hey! Are you trying to make me crash?!” His face was beet red as he lectured you about car safety and how words can shake his whole world the whole ride home, and you had never been more enchanted by a flustered lecture in your life.

Eventually, he was finished lecturing you and the car was filled with laughter and light quips. He wondered how he ever lasted this long without you by his side, but he was glad he would no longer have to.

Tip Jar

[devildomimagines]

Could u do another "I'm not (blank) enough" requests but instead of MC saying something negative it'd be the brothers saying they aren't enough at something?

This was an interesting request, thanks Anon! I'm sorry it took me a while to get through it but I really had to dig deep to figure out what these arrogant, all powerful demons could feel insecure about.

Here is my other piece Anon is referencing: "I'm Not _______ Enough."

I changed it up a bit from the original but I hope you like it! Also I got carried away and this got pretty long so the other brothers are under the cut lol.

"Am I _______ Enough?"

Belphegor

“Am I reliable enough?”

You had woken up from your nap to his words, and asked “What?” While wiping the sleep from your eyes.

“Can you depend on me?” He reworded the question but didn’t make eye contact.

“Belphie?” You guided his face to look at yours.

“Actually never mind,” he backed out of the conversation and the bed.

“Wait,” You sat up and pushed out of the bed too, already missing the warmth.

Once in front of him, you stated, “You’re reliable!”

His blush was slight but you caught it before he amended, “I know that I’m not always hanging off you like Mammon or Asmo-“

“That’s ok!” You interrupted, “Sorry,” you quickly apologized when he gave you a look.

“But I know that with your sin, it gets physically uncomfortable to be awake for long periods like how Beel gets after not getting enough food. I know if I ever needed you,” you took his hand, “you’d be there.”

He took a moment to let the scene sink in before squeezing your hand, giggling, and roughing up your hair, “That’s right, bed head,” He teased.

“Yours isn’t any better!” You moved to do the same to him but he dodged.

The two of you continued to play fight but didn’t let go of the other's hand. Belphie seemed lightened by your confirmation and you enjoyed the rare bout of playful activity with the youngest.

Beelzebub

“Am I warm enough?”

“Heck yeah! You’re like a space heater!”

He laughed, “Thanks, MC.” But his smile faded too quickly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I misunderstand?” You went from sitting across from him to sitting next to him at the table, “Do you not want to be a space heater?”

That got him smiling again, “No, that’s not it, I guess I meant warm like friendly?”

“Well then it’s a resounding yes, you’re super friendly Beel!” You gave his back a rub and a pat for punctuation.

“Oh… ok,” he went back to his snack which you assumed he would but his response wasn’t sitting right with you.

“Do you not believe me?” You looked up at him with your best puppy dog pout.

Congrats, your cuteness made the Avatar of Gluttony choke! He coughed and pounded on his chest with a closed fist.

You offered your apology and he waved it off as he took some gulps of his drink.

“No I do believe you MC.” He started covering your hand on the table with his and before your hand was completely enveloped he stopped.

“What is it then?” You prodded.

“Just a teammate commented on how I made chills run down his spine with just my stare.”

“Ah, I think Asmo would know that as a resting b*tch face,” you scratched your chin sagely

He frowned, “I can’t do anything about that, that's just how my face is.”

“Exactly! So don’t stress it, he’s still your teammate and friend, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Beel mulled it over and you could practically see the weight of it rise off his shoulders as he sat up straighter and accepted it.

“There he is,” you thought as he exuded an easy confidence but your thoughts were disrupted when he pulled you into an embrace. He whispered near your ear, “Thanks.”

“Who could think this wasn’t warm?” You thought as you snuggled into his hold.

Asmodeus

“Am I attentive enough?”

“What brought that up?” You questioned looking up from your spot on his bed. It wasn’t like Asmo to show his insecurities.

“Just some gossip going around,” He tried to minimize the claims and continued fussing with his hair.

“Oh, well, you know how gossip gets, you just have to ignore it and it’ll go away,” you repeated the same advice he had given you when you first arrived in the Devildom and there were vicious rumors and tabloid articles written about the exchange program participants.

“But am I?!”

The hurt look on his face paired with the desperation in his question made it plainly obvious this meant more to him than he wanted to let on.

“Of course-”

Asmo cut you off, “MC, you have to be deadly honest right now.”

“You’re attentive Asmo,” You confirmed without a shadow of a doubt.

He chewed his lip and cheek debating the statement.

You got up from the bed and came to stand in front of Asmo. You cupped the cheek he was chewing on and he stopped.

With a small nudge you made him swivel to look back in the mirror, “What were the rumors saying?” Your own curiosity running wild, what could bring Asmo to this?

Surprisingly Asmo looked away from the reflection of you two to answer in a small voice, “That if I didn’t pay attention to you, they’d sweep in and take you for themselves.”

That stunned you for a second, you didn’t think it would involve you. “Well first of all, I don’t even know them, how are they going to even get close to me at this point?” 

Asmo considered this, you were always with him or one of his brothers.

“Second, you’re always paying attention to me, you probably know my facial expressions better than I do,” you laughed and he couldn’t help a small snort of his own.

“Third, even on days when you’re stressed, or excited about a new make-up launch and your energy is elsewhere, you always,” you squeezed his arm for emphasis, “ALWAYS check in on me.”

Asmo bit his lip once more but this time holding back a smile. He clearly couldn’t hold it back when he locked you in a hug and squealed your name.

Satan

“Am I patient enough?”

You knew this was something that he consciously worked on so you quickly confirmed, “Yes,” then turned the page of your book.

He was a little shocked at your quick resolution and not totally satisfied. He closed his book and asked, “There was never a time when you think I couldn’t have been more patient?”

“Well sure, but I think that about myself too.”

That was also surprising to Satan, “How? You’re even more patient than me.”

 “I’m only human,” You shrugged, as you closed your own book, recognizing this was going to be more of a discussion.

“And I’m only demon?” Satan returned sarcastically. He did not appreciate the turn of phrase.

“Sorry, I meant, I’m not perfect, no one is. You can’t hold yourself to an impossible standard because you’ll only be destined to be disappointed when you don’t live up to it.” You paused for the idea to settle with him.

He contemplated the sentiment.

“The way I see it,” you continued, “As long as you’re trying to do better then that’s what matters.”

Satan weighed that thought as well.

“And there is an even bigger secret with patience that not a lot of people know,” you baited.

Satan asked “And what’s that?” Hook, line, and sinker.

“I don’t know if you’re ready,” you taunted and reopened your book. If there was one thing you knew you could entice Satan with, it was some kind of hidden knowledge.

He moved across the room and closed your book in your hand for you.

You looked up at him looming over you with a sweet smile.

He smiled back at you, knowing you were playing with him. “And what’s that?” He repeated but you knew it was more of a command this time.

“Fine, I’ll share the secret with you so listen well.”

He started to nod before you caught his face in your hands. His eyebrows shot up to wordlessly question your action but didn’t break the silence, his proof he was listening.

“People don’t always realize that the most important part of patience is…” you paused and savored the interest in Satan’s eyes, “that you have to afford yourself the same patience you give to others.”

His brows furrowed trying to unravel the words in his mind. 

While he did so, you pulled his head down slightly so you could give him a quick kiss on the forehead. Then pat his cheek and released him. 

He took a step back, almost in a daze, you certainly gave him something to think about.

Leviathan

“Am I supportive enough?”

You looked up from the manga you were reading and Levi was staring down at the manga in his hand. His hands were holding the sides tightly as he waited for your response.

“How so?” You prompted.

“L-like this,” Levi pushed the manga towards you. You scanned the panels, the scene being depicted looked like it was one where the love interest was cheering on the main character while they were participating in a sports festival.

“Well you’re not like this,” you had to be honest and you could see he was already starting to sulk, “but you’re supportive in your own way.”

He tsked and took the manga back.

“Levi, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” you apologized.

“It’s fine,” Levi turned the page, “I know I’m a gross otaku shut in.”

“No, stop.” You closed the manga, you dug this hole so it was time to climb out.

He listened and looked over at you, annoyed.

“You’re supportive Levi. There are different ways to be supportive!”

He rolled his eyes, not believing you.

Alright this guy wants to play hardball, you could play with the best of them. “You always make sure that I’ve eaten and slept, even if you haven’t. For as long as we’ve had a pact, you’ve always come to my defense even though I know you hate confrontation. When I find a new show, game or book that I’m interested in, you always take the time to learn about it yourself so I can talk to someone about it.”

By the end, Levi’s face was red, his ears were red, you could swear his hands were even shaking a little bit.

“So sure, you’re not yelling your support from the roof of the House of Lamentation like that character,” you took one of his hands and his eyes darted between your face and your interlaced hands, “but I appreciate your quiet kind of support.”

Leviathan.exe has stopped working. It took a solid 5 minutes to regain his voice.

“M-M-MC!” he whined, “That’s so embarrassing!” He slumped down to hide his face but didn’t dare remove his hand from yours.

“Was it super effective?” You laughed at your joke.

He groaned from his drooped state but he squeezed your hand and you knew that it was.

Mammon

“Am I humble enough?”

At first, you have to bite your tongue to keep from outright laughing. 

Surely the demon who regards himself as “The Great Mammon” would see the irony in asking this.

But he was quiet and reflective, a stark contrast to his usual self.

You sat down next to him on the sofa in the living room, with a pat on his back you opted to offer what you thought he wanted to hear, “Sure you are buddy.”

“Are ya messing with me?” of all times for Mammon to be observant.

You were as bad a liar as he was so when you looked away and scratched your cheek instead of answering Mammon knew you were lying.

He sighed and his shoulders dropped as he caught his head in his hands.

“Well you don’t have to be humble!” You defended, feeling bad for your white lie earlier.

He peeked up at you and you took the opportunity to stand up in front of him, “You’re like the third strongest demon in all of Devildom! You should be proud of that!”

He rolled his eyes but you could see a shadow of a smile play on his lips.

“Not only are you strong but you’re very caring, not only to your brothers but to me too,” you suggested and on queue Mammon flushed.

“I’m not,” he tried to deny.

“Oh that’s not true. Remember when Belphie ruined that painting and you took the fall for it?”

His eyes opened wide in shock, “How did you-”

“Or that time when I was sick and you took such good care of me?” You added in a sing-song tone.

“Shuddup!” Mammon was now standing and placed a hand over your mouth as he looked around for his brothers. He looked back at you, “I got a reputation to uphold, y’know.”

After a muffled laugh, you pulled his hand away, “What I’m saying is you don’t have to be modest.”

“Yeah I guess when you put it that way,” He rubbed the back of his head considering.

“So what’s on the agenda for the day for The Great Mammon?”

He squinted his eyes at your teasing tone but smirked and grabbed your hand to drag you along. You went willingly with a snicker.

Lucifer

“Am I compassionate enough?”

He didn’t look up from the paperwork he was reviewing when he posed the question to you.

At first you tilted your head and wondered if he was even addressing you.

When he did finally look up, you knew he was waiting for your answer.

“Yeah, I think so?” You didn’t mean to phrase it as a question but were more concerned with how this even came up.

“You think so?” Lucifer repeated incredulously.

“Yes,” you reinforced, “where’s this coming from?” You were taking a risk in questioning Lucifer, there was probably a 50/50 chance he would actually answer. 

It was rare that he would even voice a question about his character.

He frowned and went back to his paperwork. You figured that was the end of the conversation, this being the 50% of the time that he would not answer. You went back to perusing his record collection to find something to play.

“Simeon mentioned how ruthless I’ve become.”

You looked back over at Lucifer. He looked more tired than he did just a moment ago. Simeon’s comment must have been wearing on him.

You picked a record you knew he liked and put it on before walking over to his desk.

He sighed, put down his pen and rubbed his eyes.

You leaned against the desk with your arms crossed and he faced you, the weariness even more apparent up close.

“Can I be honest with you?” you asked.

He grimaced, already thinking the worst but nodded.

“I think your ruthlessness comes from a compassionate place.”

From his one raised eyebrow, you could tell that wasn’t what he was expecting and he was waiting for your explanation.

“For example,” you began, “you care about your brothers, so when you punish them, it’s for their own good or to save them from a worse fate. You might not admit this one, but you’ve become sympathetic to Diavolo’s moods and disposition and so acting in accordance with how it will reflect on him and enforcing those standards has become second nature, hasn’t it?” He looked away.

You knew he wouldn’t answer that so you looked away yourself and continued, “You may have at first picked me as a candidate for the exchange program because of my connection to Lilith and housed me at the request of Diavolo,” you laughed at what you were about to say for the first time out loud, “but since getting to know me, I like to think that you’ve had a change of heart and genuinely care about my well-being despite those factors.”

There was a moment of silence and you felt your face heat up, nervous that maybe you overestimated your importance.

Before you could look back at him, he had stood up and enclosed you in a hug. You smiled, uncrossed your arms and hugged him back. 

He was humming along with the song so you made one more bold choice and started swaying in time with the rhythm. He chuckled, shifted to hold one of your hands, and properly led you in a dance around the room. 

You hoped his light footsteps were a reflection of how light his heart was feeling.

All signs of the weariness from moments ago were completely gone.

[fateinthestars]

Star Crossed Myth Advent Calendar Fanfic: Day Six - Fleeting Touch (Scorpio/MC)

(Twenty-Four days of Star Crossed Myth Flash Fics using this prompt list)

Title: Day Six - Fleeting Touch

Pairing: Scorpio/MC (MC's name left blank so you can fill it in with whatever you wish in your head)

Characters: Scorpio, MC, Zyglavis

Word Count: 618

Rating: T

Prompt: "A quick brush of hands, almost unnoticeable"

Summary: Scorpio is frustrated at being stuck at work, but his feelings soon change after certain circumstances mean his wife joins him.

A/N: WARNING: Major spoilers for Scorpio's route. Set after his Promise of Infinity story.

Day Six: Fleeting Touch (Scorpio/MC)

Scorpio sighed heavily as he worked through the punishments list, glaring at it a little. It didn’t matter what year it was, work around this time was always a nightmare. Not as bad as Valentine’s day but it still irritated him that he had all this to do instead of spending time with ___ .

It was the first Christmas since she had awoken from her centuries long sleep and they had got married. Whilst they wouldn’t be able to go down to Earth this time, he had at least hoped that they could do something that would have been familiar to her time as a human. He figured she would like that sort of thing, even if he wasn’t entirely sure why. There was no point in looking back on such things now.

“Scorpio.”

Hearing Zyglavis’ voice, Scorpio looked sharply up from the reflecting pool. “Is there a problem, Zig?”

“... Perhaps,” Zyglavis hesitantly admitted, glancing to the side. He handed the other his own part of the punishments list.

Looking down at it, Scorpio scowled. “... A planned attack on a shopping centre huh? At this time of year when it’d be at its busiest. Well I’m sure you can deal with these bastard humans in the…” he trailed off, his eyes widening as he noticed the location. “Wait… this was…” he shook his head. It might have been ___’s neighbourhood once upon a time, but that was a very long time ago now. No one she had known would even be alive now. Even so… he was sure she wouldn’t like this. But what could he do? He could let Zyglavis deal with this and never mention it to her, but no doubt she would notice something was bothering him. He might be the one able to read thoughts, but she really did know him far too well. He looked hesitantly up at Zyglavis. “I’ll handle this one. Could you fetch ___ ?”

“... Very well,” Zyglavis conceded, snapping his fingers.

Scorpio got on with the rest of his own list whilst waiting for them to return, only looking up when his wife came into the reflecting pool room.

“Scorpio? You don’t normally like to be disturbed at work… is something wrong?”

“Tch, you could say that,” Scorpio muttered. “I nearly didn’t bother you but I know you’d be a damn pain in the ass later and insist on knowing details about what had happened. Come over here.”

___ hesitantly approached the reflecting pool and looked down into it, her breath hitching slightly. “I remember this place… so there’s someone who needs to be punished here? Why is it bothering you?”

Scorpio glanced away. “It’s not. I just thought you might be interested as it’s part of your old life. Thought maybe it’d be interesting to see how it’s changed.”

Just as long as he makes sure no one gets hurt, there could be descendents of my friends and family about. I know Scorpio will do whatever is needed to make sure everyone can have a peaceful Christmas. I’m happy just to be by his side tonight.

Scorpio’s face flushed red as her thoughts filtered without warning into his mind. He hadn’t even noticed that she had briefly touched his hand but it had been enough for him to hear all that. “Dammit woman! I need to concentrate! You’re still just as bad as ever at not letting your thoughts leak out!”

However, deep down he was happy to hear that calling for her had made her happy, even if it wasn’t quite in the way he had envisioned.

From that year onward, Christmas Eve was one of the few days he allowed the other to accompany him to work.

[xjustalilbitgayx2]

“I’m disappointed in you, mc”

summary: Mc has never really been good at school and that usually results in a lot people saying disgusting things towards them. however they never thought they’d hear the one they respect the most say those things….

warnings: idk angst ig? (its not that strong but)

*******************************************************

“I-I failed….” mc stutters out as their eyes glide across the piece of paper containing this semesters grades on it. Tears start to form at the corners of their eyes as they’re suddenly hit with an influx of emotions such as anxiety, sadness and frustration.

‘I really tried my hardest this time around though a-and i failed…’ they think to themself as the paper slips from their grasp and to the table.

“Cheer up mc! failing one class isn’t that bad and don’t worry about Lucifer he’ll probably just lecture you for a good hour or so” Mammon says, flashing you a big grin and placing a hand on your shoulder as an attempt of comfort.

Mc stares up at the white haired demon as more tears start to spill before the quickly turn their head towards their desk.

“no you don’t understand….i failed all of them” mc says quietly and mc can practically feel the change in mammon’s attitude immediately.

That’s when they realise they’re absolutely screwed.

********************************

“Do you know why i called you here?” Lucifers voice calls out. It’s steady and monotone, any normal person would think that in this moment Lucifer was quite calm. But not mc, oh no, they immediately picked up on the slight change of his voice.

Normally Lucifer spoke in a proud way but right now the tone he was using was flat and like he was being made to read something off the board. Mc was very familiar with the tone, it’s one their parents always used when showing their disappointment in their child.

“Well?” Lucifer asks in the same tone and mc finally lifts their gaze from the ground to look at him. His face is blank, no emotion besides the hint of anger in his eyes. Mc feels the colour drain from their face as they quickly nod their head and look to the floor once again, too nervous to meet the eyes of the former angel.

“That makes this easy then” Lucifer begins, swiftly moving out of his chair and making his way towards mc at a ‘calm’ pace, “Care to tell me why you failed every single one of your classes, mc?”. His anger slips out as their name leaves his lips and mc flinches so hard it’s just short of a jump.

Swallowing the lump in their throat mc looks at Lucifer once more, he’s now just an arms length away and that makes mc so much more afraid of him.

“I-I really tried Lucifer, I mean it…I did the best I could do” They say and it’s the truth. Really mc had never been good at school and the work at RAD was honestly just ten times harder than the stuff in the human world.

As mc’s words reach Lucifers ears he shoots them a glare. “I find that extremely hard to believe mc! You failed ALL of your classes! you didn’t pass one!” he says in a loud voice, he’s not quite yelling but it’s almost there.

“B-but i really did try! I promise you on every single pact I have with your brothers! I did everything to the best of my ability!” they tell him, begging him to see that they really did do everything as good as they could.

Lucifer sighs and places a hand across his eyes, clearly showing that he was disappointed. Mc has a bad feeling about what’s coming next.

Every bone in their body is telling them to leave the room and hide, just so they don’t have to hear the harsh words he will say.

“if that’s really true then i’m so disappointed in you mc” Mc feels their gut drop and something sickening coming up their throat. there are those words again. The words that are always thrown at them, by their parents, friends and now the person they respect most…

“maybe…maybe it might be for the best that you return to the human world and we find another student for the exchange program” Lucifer says but even as he does so he has a pained expression on his face.

Mcs head begins spinning and it feels like their chest is tightening to the point where they can’t breath and that’s when everything goes black, the last thing they hear being Lucifers worried shout as they collapse to the floor.