#this is a purely self-indulgent not!fic in case you couldn't tell

[trensu]

I had a thought about a vaguely Cupid-and-Psyche inspired crack!fic where Elias is a god of Love

(Jon: don't you mean Emotional Manipulation?

Elias: you say to-may-to, i say to-mah-to

Jon: ... I say to-mah-to, I'm not American, what does this have to do with anything?)

Jon is obviously Cupid. Elias took a shine to him and made him immortal against his will and keeps him as his servant or smth. Idk Elias is a douchebag, okay? ANYWAY, Elias is also a petty bitch and so he gave Jon Love arrows

(Jon: it's mind control.

Elias: they inspire passion, Jon. Just bc you don't experience it, doesn't mean--

Jon: No. Me being ace has nothing to do with it. They're mind control arrows. These people wouldn't have done all that if they weren't being influenced.

Elias: you have no romance in your soul

Jon: ...i find your interpretation of love and romance extremely suspect.)

Whenever Elias feels jealous or neglected or just plain bored tbh, he sends Jon out with to shoot whoever's caught his ire with one of those love arrows and has them make fools of themselves. Jon does it (he's bound to Elias for handwavey reasons so he can't really disobey) and it usually gets him in trouble. It's how he's gotten all those scars. (Jane Prentiss falling in love with worms and attacking Jon with them when he accidentally stepped on one while trying to make an exit was pretty tame in comparison to Jude Perry's reaction when she realized Jon struck Agnes with an arrow so she'd fall for some no-name mortal boy).

Such is Jon's life. Being immortal is not all it's cracked up to be when you can get injured and scarred. So when Elias started muttering about Peter's wandering eye, Jon knew it was only a matter of time before he'd send him out with those arrows again.

Peter, apparently, had been showing too much interest in a mortal boy named Martin, whose Loneliness tasted as bittersweet as dark chocolate (or so Peter claimed as he boasted during his dinner with Elias while Jon slowly sunk further into his chair the more irritated Elias's scowl grew).

"make him fall in love with something hideous and embarrassing," Elias had seethed at him, practically throwing the quiver at his head. At least two of the arrows pricked him so he was quite grateful that he was immune to their mind control (Elias: don't be ridiculous, Jon. Having you susceptible to the magic you're tasked to handle would be a stupid move on my part. You could get compromised and be completely useless to me!)

Grumbling, Jon set out to track down the mortal boy. He was not prepared for the the way the sunlight glinted off of Martin's light hair or his warm smile. He was not prepared for the twinge he felt in his heart when Martin's pale eyes glimmered with tears after receiving his mother's harsh words (the pain, worryingly, felt all too similar to the slice of the arrows he aimed at people).

He didn't want to shoot Martin with one of the mind control arrows. He wanted Martin to be happy. So he persuades his good friend Daisy to get her gf Basira to fake a prophecy. To her credit, she did a fantastic job delivering a fake prophecy. But there was some sort of miscommunication (or Martin's mother deliberately misunderstood; it could go either way). Instead of telling Martin's mother to marry off her son to a kind and handsome man with a gentle heart in order to avoid the wrath of the gods, the prophecy was somehow interpreted as sacrificing Martin's hand in marriage to some sort of hideous beast that lived at the peak of a nearby and treacherous mountain.

(Jon: how did she get that idea from your prophecy? what exactly did you tell her???

Basira: i can't fake a prophecy, Jon. and i'm not telling you what the prophecy was

Jon: What?? Why not???

Basira: it would violate the oracle-client confidentiality clause on the consent form we have them sign prior to a reading)

Jon was irritated by how quickly and eagerly Martin's mother was to dress up her son and dump him on the mountain. He was tempted to use the arrows on her, instead, but he figured Martin would be upset if something happened to his mother so he refrained. Jon fretted as Martin started his slow procession up the mountain. Martin wasn't made to endure such a harsh environment, and even if he had, he shouldn't have to!! Martin deserves to be loved and treated well and get given all the good things life could offer!!

So Jon constructs a luxurious enchanted castle using godly magic and more favors than he probably should've called in. He puts big obvious signage to Martin knew it would be his castle provided by his non-existent monster spouse.

(Daisy: he's gonna get suspicious when his monster spouse doesn't show up. he'll probably leave and try to find it. he seems like the self-sacrificing type and you know how those get.

Jon: i have a plan

Daisy: .... is this like all your other plans?

Jon: shut up, daisy)

So Jon pretends to be the hideous monster spouse Martin was expecting. Sort of. He only visits after dark, and informs Martin that he can not bring light into the room for if he sees his visage he'd be cursed (or something; Jon came up with something on the fly and was definitely not suave about it but Martin complied and that's all that mattered). He spends his nights with Martin, telling him stories and meekly asking permission to pet his hair and hold his hand while doing his best to ignore the pounding of his heart and the heat on his cheeks whenever Martin softly says yes. He didn't say yes the first time Jon asked, and Jon skittered away from where he had been creeping closer. He respected Martin's boundaries (he isn't Elias, after all) but as he and Martin spent more time together, Martin became less guarded and began to allow Jon close.

It got to the point where they would cuddle in bed and Jon was so content in Martin's arms that he occasionally dozed with him. Everything was great and Martin seemed genuinely happy to spend his days in the castle learning new hobbies and such while spending his nights with someone he couldn't see. Until one day Martin asked if he could have his mother visit. Jon wanted to say no, but the hesitant way Martin asked tasted too much of fear of rejection for Jon to deny him.

(Daisy: why do I have to guide her here?

Jon: bc you're my friend and if you don't Martin will be sad which means I'll be sad and you'll have to listen to me cry about it and you hate that

Daisy: damn it jon)

And because martin's mother is awful and bitter and spiteful, she tells Martin he should find out what his "captor" looked like. his spouse was a monster, after all, he should know what he's dealing with so he could defend himself and her if it should decide to attack them. so one night, shortly after his mother left, he waits until Jon has dozed off before quietly lighting a candle.

Jon wakes when he feels hot wax drip onto him and sees Martin staring a him with a shocked expression. Jon realizes what happened and flees in a panic. He knows what he looks like; short and skinny an riddled with scars of all kinds. Ofc Martin would be disgusted by him. He ends up licking his wounds at Elias's.

(Elias: my poor delicate darling precious boy

Jon: really, Elias?

Elias: can't a father worry about his child??

Jon: you're not my father!! you kidnapped me and immortalized me against my will!

Elias: details, details. anyway, you can stay here until you recover from your grievous injuries. byyyyee!

Jon: where are you going? elias? why's the door locked? elias?? LET ME OUT, YOU POMPOUS ASS)

When Jon recovers and finally manages to escape, he finds out that Martin had been trying to find him but Elias had given him impossible tasks to prove he's worthy of him. Thankfully, Daisy, Georgie and Basira all helped him out, much to elias's displeasure. Since Martin completed the tasks, Jon was able to reunite with him and they lived happily ever after~!

[djarinvibe]

The Bridges We Cross (Javier Peña x F!Reader) Pt. 1

A/N: I did not intend for this to become a chaptered fic but... here we are lmaooo. Also, this fic is purely self-indulgent im not even gonna lie. (EDIT 8/8/22: ON HIATUS)

Words: 6k

Summary: After a one night stand with your coworker Javier Peña, you discover that you’re carrying his kid.

Warnings: PREGNANT READER, SMUT (MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY), piv sex, public sex, minor violence canon to Narcos, connie might be a bit ooc.

Italics = flashback / Masterlist 

The heat of Bogotá was starting to make you senile, even while sitting in the DEA office that’s loaded with fans to circulate the stale, hot air better. The papers filled with valuable information you’ve been staring at were beginning to strain your eyes, the small lettering from the typewriter swirling across the page. 

You've been here for what felt like days, even though it's only been a handful of hours since you arrived this morning. The ashtray on your desk still emitted a thin line of smoke from the cigarette you had just snuffed out, and the coffee you brewed yourself a few hours ago had long gone cold from neglect.

Setting down the files in your grasp, your free hand rose up to your face, resting your head in your palm. Somedays, it felt like your job was impossible. No matter what you or your partners, Steve Murphy and Javier Peña did, Escobar always seemed to slink away just in the nick of time; even with the help of Carrillo and the search bloc.

It didn’t help that your mind was clouded by something else that happened just the night before. Something you never expected would happen since yours and Steve’s arrival to Colombia.

The two of you were both assigned to Escobar’s case and flew in together with Connie and their- now deceased- cat. However, you aren't from Miami like Steve is. You're actually from the west coast, Oregon to be exact. 

“Y’alright, Darlin’?” You heard Steve’s voice across the room, prompting you to lift your head. The blonde, lanky man stood leaning against the doorframe to your office with a steaming coffee and freshly lit cigarette in his grasp.

“Just… one of those days.” You murmured, giving the man a faux smile before sighing softly. 

“Are you going to tell Murphy?” Peña spoke after exhaling from a drag. He sat on the couch in his apartment, shirt off with his jeans still unbuttoned, staring down the bare skin of your back you had yet to clothe. 

You scoffed, shaking your head while pulling up your pants, “Absolutely not. This was a ‘one and done’ type of situation.” 

You slept with Javier on a whim; drunk, exhausted, and desperate to catch a quick release. Though after the two of you finished, it was a sobering experience to realize you had just fucked your coworker.

Since moving here and meeting him, you couldn’t deny that you’ve developed feelings over time, despite his reputation of sleeping around. Working long, late hours with him and Steve, you came to learn he isn’t as horrible as the gossips in the office seem to think he is. 

But even with that knowledge, you couldn’t let yourself get hurt. Not by him. Not when you have to face each other at work almost every day.

“It’s only noon.” Steve smirked, raising the mug in his grasp to take a sip of the coffee. 

“I had a long night.” You responded, eyes meeting your partners once again. You trusted Steve with your life. Being placed in dangerous, life threatening situations will make you feel that way about the people you experienced them with. But, you couldn't tell him that you and Javier slept together last night. 

Especially because Steve has been teasing the two of you about your evident chemistry for months now; both him and Connie whenever the four of you would get dinner or drinks. 

But you were firm on the idea that a relationship with him wasn’t going anywhere. Besides, as soon as Escobar was either jailed or dead, you'll most likely go your separate ways, returning to the home states you came from. And you couldn't let a relationship get in the way of your career.

You're still relatively young, having just turned thirty three months ago. You worked your ass off to be in the position you are now, a DEA agent, despite your field being mostly dominated by men; misogynistic, dick-headed, men. 

And you certainly weren't going to let one of those men- Javier, to a lesser degree- get in your way. 

---

“I have to confess something,” You drunkenly slurred, looking at the woman seated on the couch next to you. Connie’s eyes widened as a mischievous, eager-for-gossip grin covered her face. 

The two of you had planned a girls night on one of your days off. Constantly working and being around testosterone all the time was frustrating, so any time spent with Connie was cherished. 

The two of you really became close on the flight from Miami to Colombia. Instead of flying out from Oregon, you first flew across the country and met Steve in Florida. After a few weeks preparing for your new assignment along with your new partner, you, Steve and Connie departed to Colombia.

“What?” She giggled, sipping the margarita in her grasp. 

“I slept with Peña, like two weeks ago.” You murmured, watching the woman's face twist into all sorts of emotions, mainly shocked.

“Really?” She finally found the words to speak.

“We got drunk and it just kind of happened,” You shrugged, taking a sip of your own drink. 

“Can I ask… How was it?” She giggled as she asked the question, a goofy grin crossing her face, cheeks evidently heating up.

His rough hands grabbed at your ass as you rode him on the couch, skin slapping from how fast he was guiding you. You could feel every inch of his condom-covered cock fill you up, and only craved more as you feverishly rubbed your clit. 

Your eyes met his own amongst the pleasure, making your chest flutter from the intensity and passion. He was hungry for your body; the taste, the feel. It’s something he's been craving for months; watching you parade around in your tight skirts. Steve gave him shit about it constantly, clocking nearly immediately how much Javier took a liking to you, but he always brushed it off.

“God, cariño,” He groaned, watching your breasts bounce. You bit your lip as he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, switching positions so your back was now on the couch and he was standing. 

His cock plunged back into you immediately, causing you to call out his name, nails digging into his arms which had moved down as his hands grasped your hips. 

“Javi,” It was breathy and caused him to falter at how sexy his name sounded falling from your lips. He’s heard it a million times before, but not like this, not so needy and whiny.

It caused him to pick up his pace, watching your face twist with delight as he fucked you into the couch. Many women have been in this very spot, but you outstand them by far. Your pussy fit his throbbing cock like a glove, your breasts are the perfect shape and size for his hands and lips, your mouth did wonderful things as well. The blowjob you gave him before you fucked nearly made him bust like a damn teenager. 

“Oh, you're going to make me cum,” Your voice rasped out of your throat as your nails dug into his biceps. This would be the third time he's making you finish for the night, a personal record. You haven't had amazing partners in bed in the past. 

The familiar burn began to form in your lower belly, your nerves feeling as though they were electric. The man released his hand from your hip and moved it to your core, thumb quickly rubbing your clit in fast circles. 

“Cum for me, hermosa,” He grunted, feeling your pussy clench around his cock. The sensation caused his own orgasm to begin to rush up on him, prompting him to thrust faster. 

Your orgasm washed through your body as you moaned Javier’s name loudly, head tilted back into the couch cushions from the overwhelming sensation. You could feel the man's thrusts get sloppier until he too came, cock buried deep in your pussy with a groan, little whispers of praise leaving his lips.

“It was uh-” You paused, feeling your own face gaining heat at the memory, “Good. I'll tell you that.” 

“I'm so happy that this happened.” Connie gushed, leaning forwards in excitement, “Steve and I have had a bet going on for months. He owes me five bucks.” 

You shook your head and rolled your eyes, wanting her to relish in the excitement before you dropped the bombshell of reality onto the woman. As much as Connie and Steve- apparently- wanted this to happen, it just wasn't going to. You made that clear with Javier, now you'll have to do the same with them.

---

“Hey,” Javier’s low voice caught your attention, causing your stomach to drop. You’ve been avoiding him to the best of your abilities since that night seven weeks ago.

Not only because you slept together, but also because, just last night, you found out you were expecting. 

The light knock on your apartment door caused you to jump off of the couch and rush over, pulling open the entryway. Connie greeted you with a pitiful, yet encouraging grin. You could see the brown paper bag in her grasp as she slipped into your home, walking past you. 

“Do you really think it’s-” She began, walking until she stood in the living room, while also handing you the bag. 

“Yes.” You cut her off, opening the paper bag to reveal two pregnancy tests. You felt your stomach churn at the sight and swallowed down the bile that threatened to come up.

“What did you tell Steve?” You asked, looking back up at the blonde before treading over to the bathroom. 

“He's not even home yet. Him and Javier had to go somewhere following a tip regarding Poison.” She shrugged her shoulders, sitting down on the couch. You chewed your lip, not only anxious for the result of the pregnancy tests, but now for your boys. You should be out there with them... but you're sick at home because of one.

You nodded even though she couldn't see and quietly stepped into the bathroom. It didn't take long for you to do what the instructions asked, anxious enough for the result. 

When you flipped the two tests over, revealing little pink pluses on each, bile immediately rose to your throat, causing you to rush over to the toilet and release the contents of your belly. 

Connie was quick to knock on the door before entering, rushing over to your figure and rubbing your back for comfort. Her eyes caught a glimpse of the tests, widening when she saw the evident positive on both, before looking back down at your sad figure. 

“Oh, honey,” She whispered softly as you raised your head, tears streaming down your cheeks hotly. She grabbed some toilet paper from nearby and gently patted them away, hand cupping your cheek.

“I just… didn't expect this.” You sniffled, shaking your head “We used protection, I-” You stopped and shook your head, a fresh set of tears streaming down your cheeks. 

You haven't exactly slept without anyone since Javier. Anytime you tried picking up someone at the bar after work, they just weren't the same. You couldn't even make it past a heated make out session before feeling the need to kick them out or leave.

“What's up?” You didn't dare look at him, your stomach still twisting. You kept your gaze at the manila file in your grasp, facing shelves full of boxes containing files.

“You alright?” He questioned, stepping further into the room, eyeing down your back. You swallowed, hearing his footsteps as they got closer to your figure. 

“I’m fine, why?” You furrowed your brow, finally raising your head and looking over your shoulder at the man. He could see the emotions you were so desperately trying to hide, making his own chest ache.

The truth is, the night you fucked had also been stuck on his mind. And the obvious avoidance you've shown for the past month and a half has been messing with his head. He understood nothing more was to come from that night in his apartment, but he didn't expect you to be so cold; even at work. 

When he walks into a room, you leave it. And if you're sitting at your desks, you always make an excuse to go work in the conference room. Not just that, but you also won't even look at him half the time, and only address Steve when the three of you are standing together. 

“No reason.” Javier shook his head, “Murphy just wanted to know if you found the file?” He quickly changed the subject. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. I just found it,” You began, finding the confidence to turn around and meet his gaze, “Was just reading through to make sure it was the right one.” You noticed how close he’d stepped into the small room; nearly trapping you against the wall of files. It made your heart race and emotions run amuck. 

This is why you had been avoiding him.

Early pregnancy symptoms have been kicking your ass. And having Javier there to rub your back when you felt cramps, or hold your hair back when you were nauseous hanging over the toilet, was something you craved.

“We should get back to Steve then.” The man commented. You nodded, eyes averting from his face to his chest. The shirt he was wearing had been unbuttoned dangerously low, making your cheeks fill with heat. You no longer had to imagine what his bare chest looked like, as you've already gotten to see it. 

“Is there something on my shirt?” Javier's voice broke you from your memory, and you felt your face gain heat rapidly. 

“No.” You quickly stuttered out, shaking your head, and pushing past him to get out of the corner he had trapped you in.

---

By sixteen weeks, your pants wouldn't button anymore, and your bump was getting less easy to hide. You had to switch to baggier blouses and stretch pants. Luckily, having male work partners, they haven't noticed your changing body yet.

It came as a surprise because you've since quit smoking, drinking, and caffeinated coffee. 

Connie has been keeping your secret well. You begged her not to tell Steve until you were ready, to which she agreed. She understood you needed time to figure everything out. Being a single, pregnant woman is mostly frowned upon this day in age. Not that you care about that bullshit, but you don't particularly enjoy being the center of attention. 

You also need to figure out if and when you are going to tell Javier. Deep down, you know you should. And if you end up getting sent back to the states because everyone found out, then that's fine as well.

Your plan was to stay and help as much as you could, until near the end of your pregnancy. When it reaches that time, you'll take maternity leave combined with your vacation days, and fly back home. After your baby is born… you don't really know what you're going to do.

A knock on your apartment door caught your attention, and you stood up, brows furrowing. It was late, close to midnight. You had gotten off work a short amount of hours ago, but weren't expecting any visitors. 

You reached into your purse and pulled out your gun, making sure it was loaded before slowly treading to the front door. Looking through the peephole, your stomach dropped as to who stood in the hallway. 

Unarming your pistol, you placed it back onto your purse before returning over to the door and opening it. 

“Javier?” You had seen him at work earlier, but his sudden appearance at your apartment, blocks away from his own, was a shock. 

Despite trying your best to ignore him earlier in your pregnancy, you eventually learned to push your feelings about everything to the back burner and only talk shop. No personal life was discussed, only work.

“I need to talk to you.” He spoke, brown eyes boring into your own. You felt your stomach drop, nodding as you stepped aside and allowed him in. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as soon as he walked by you, heading towards the couch. 

“What's up?” You questioned, pulling your robe tighter around your body while watching him sit. You had gotten out of the shower only twenty minutes ago, and hadn't bothered to get clothed yet, save for a bra and underwear. 

“I need to ask you about the coordinates to Escobar's current hideout.” He spoke, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his front pocket.

“Oh, um, please don't smoke in here.” You commented, swallowing heavily. The man gave you a quizzical look, tucking the cigarettes back into his pocket. 

“Are you quitting or something?” He questioned.

“Something like that.” You spoke, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, “So, what questions do you have?” 

“Carillo and the Search Bloc are going to drop into Escobar’s tomorrow morning. I'm having my informant confirm the coordinates once more, you should have yours do the same.” Javier answered, looking you down. 

Seeing you there sitting in your robe, fresh out of the shower caused his heart to pick up and cock come to attention. Your cleavage had popped out, the robe slightly splitting open at the top when you sat down. He couldn't help but notice that your breasts seemed larger. Your legs were also deliciously exposed, and looked so soft. 

The man just wanted to feel your skin; squish the meat of your thighs, kiss the gorgeous crevice where your legs meet your torso.

“I’ll get a hold of them.” You nodded towards him, “You came all this way just for that?” You then questioned.

The man muttered something about tapped phone lines- which you suspected was a lie- before asking if you had any liquor.

 With a nod, you stood up and walked over to your kitchen, pulling a bottle of whiskey out the cabinet. You then poured him a glass before carrying both the freshly poured liquor and the bottle back over to the couch, placing them down in front of his figure.

Truthfully, you miss both drinking and smoking. But the health of your baby is more important than the poison you use to ease your mind. 

Sitting back down, you watched the man take a hefty gulp before refilling his glass. You bit your lip, playing with the hem of your robe as the two of you sat there in silence. You were unsure of what to say, wanting to avoid everything besides work. 

Your inner voice was suggesting otherwise, fighting for you to tell him the news. You know it isn't fair to keep it a secret, as he at least deserves to know that he’s going to be a father- Not that he has to stay and help raise the kid.

You have fully come to terms with the fact that you're going to be a single mom, raising the baby on your own.

“Javier…” You began, playing with your fingers. The man turned his gaze, searching your face, questioning as to what you're going to say. You took his silence as your signal to continue on, “Do you remember when we slept together four months ago?” 

“How could I forget,” The man spoke, a smug expression crossing his face as he took a sip of his drink. 

You rolled your eyes at his comment before taking a deep breath, “Uh, well. I-I think the condom broke.” 

The man's cheerful expression quickly dropped into a serious one as he set the glass harshly down onto the table, standing up, “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I'm sure.” You frowned in return, standing up as well and untying the robe to expose the small bump of your belly. You watched the man's eyes drop to your mostly naked body. He first stopped at your breasts, admiring how enticing they looked tucked in your bra, before trailing down to your stomach. He could see the shadow the bump caused, sending his heart into his throat. 

“I found out at seven weeks. My period was late.” You broke the silence, retying your robe. “I admit I didn't know how to tell you- If I was even going to in the first place. But, I'm getting to a point where I can't hide it anymore. And…” You paused, swallowing, “You deserve to know.” 

Javier only stared you down, resting his hands on his hips, “And you haven't slept with other guys?” 

“No, I haven't slept with other men.” You felt hurt by his question even though it was reasonable. The two of you don't have a claim over the other, “I-I tried after our night together and… couldn't. I know that you're the father.” You brought your hand down to your bump. Your baby was still small, only being sixteen weeks along, but you have grown to love the thing with your whole heart. 

“Look, I-I need time to think about this.” Javier muttered, shaking his head. You felt your heart begin to race at his comment, even though you'd already prepared yourself for heartbreak.

The man doesn't want to be tied down, he proved that by walking out on his wedding with Lorraine all those years ago, and the various women he circulates through in a week. You should've expected his rejection.

“I don't expect you to be a part of this.” You quickly spoke, trying to reassure him- and yourself, “I fully am ready to do it on my own. I have been since I found out. I won't tell anyone it's yours.” 

He stared at you before nodding silently. This is certainly not what he expected when he came to your apartment this evening; he had different intentions. He missed you. He missed your body and the way you taste. The hookers and informants he's been fucking the last four months have been like dirt compared to you. 

But now knowing that you were carrying his kid? It all felt so overwhelming. 

“I-It’s probably best if you go…” You spoke so quietly, wrapping your robe tighter around your body, his silence beginning to make your heart race.

“Hermosa-” Javier began, but you saw him hesitate to speak. He only nodded and turned on his heel before stepping over to the door and leaving swiftly. 

The moment Javier left your apartment, you couldn't stop the tears from spilling down your cheeks. You felt overwhelmed, sliding down the back of your front door after he had shut it, hands covering your face.

You felt guilty for kicking him out, and even regret it a little. Even though he told you he needed time, he looked so upset when you told him to leave. And what was he going to say just before exiting? Why did he stop himself?

You cried on the floor for god knows how long before making your way to your land-line, which sat on the side table next to the couch. You needed a friend- Connie- who usually made you feel better about the situation you're in.

The phone dial rang two times before someone answered. When you blubbered a somber greeting, you immediately recognized that Steve had answered when he questioned if you were alright. 

“Steve,” You bit your lip, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Can I speak to Connie?” 

“She’s asleep,” His southern accent spoke loudly through your receiver, “Are you sure you're fine?” 

you sighed heavily at his question, silent tears streaming down your face as you sat on the couch. You figured now would be the time to break the news. He’s become a close friend since meeting in Miami; both him and his wife. 

“Steve, I have something to tell you.” You began with a sniffle, “I-I’m pregnant…”

Your partner was silent for several moments before he finally spoke, “Jesus. Does Connie know?”

“Yes. She helped me find out, actually.” You wiped your eyes before taking a deep breath, trying to calm down your emotions. The distraction of Steve was helping, along with lifting a heavy weight off of your shoulder. But Javier still lingered on your mind; his displeased face haunting the back of your eyes every time you blinked. 

“Why didn't you tell me earlier? Does Peña know too?” Steve then questioned, causing your heart to wrench. A new lump formed and a fresh set of tears began to fill your eyes, spilling down your cheeks.

“Javier knows,” Your voice cracked as you spoke, “He’s the father.”

“Oh,” The blonde's deep voice came across quiet through the receiver of your telephone, “I’m so sorry.”

--- 

Bullets ricocheted across the surrounding brick walls, nearly hitting you as you quickly jumped behind a barrier. You could hear your partner yelling in Spanish from the rooftops, as he had taken a separate route, while you quickly hid from the gunfire. 

Streams of silent curses left your lips, brick dust and chunks flying throughout the air from bullets. You could feel your heart beating against your chest, adrenaline pumping hotly, as you held your pistol in hand.

The gunfire finally stopped a handful of seconds later, but it was soon followed by the sound of a car peeling away down the street, causing you to peek over the wall. La Quica and Poison were gone and the street was empty due to the gunfire. 

“Shit,” You cursed just as your partner approached the brick wall you hid behind. 

“What the fuck were you doing?” Javier’s angry voice caused you to roll your eyes, reholstering your pistol before facing him.

“What?” You furrowed your brow in anger.

“You could've gotten hurt. You're not even wearin’ a fuckin’ vest.” He continued on, gesturing to the blouse donning your top. You merely stood and listened as he ranted. He never used to be this protective over you. Not even after you slept together and before you found out about your pregnancy. 

“Why the fuck did you chase them?”

“We could've had them if you hadn't taken the roof!” You yelled back, arm raising as you harshly poked him in the chest. 

Javier Immediately clenched his jaw, eyes narrowing towards your figure. You know he wanted to snap back vile words in return, but kept his composure. He couldn't bring himself to, not when you're pregnant, especially with his kid. He already made you draw the short straw, he didn’t need to cut it even smaller.

“Get your ass into the jeep.” He spoke through grit teeth, choosing to abandon the argument all together. You scoffed, kindling his temper even further. He needs a cigarette as soon as the two of you get back to the office.

-

“Peña told me about Poison and La Quica.” Steve’s southern drawl caused you to lift your head from staring at some paperwork.

“Did he also tell you about how he was a dumbass-”

“You need to get your head out of your ass, agent.” The blonde man spoke deadpan, cutting off whatever you were about to spew. He didn’t care, all he knew was that Javier had smoked four cigarettes in the span of an hour after you had gotten back. He finally confronted the man as to why the two of you were acting so off after your outing.

“Javier was scared. Though he may not act like it, he’s terrified of losing you- and the baby.” The man whispered the last part, knowing you haven’t told the rest of the office yet, “He admitted it to me just before I came to confront you. ”

You felt your heart clench, quickly averting your gaze from Steve, “I-I didn’t realize.”

“Peña may not have been the best choice to… procreate with. But, you’ve gotta throw him a bone.” Your partner mumbled softly, catching your attention once again.

“I’ll talk to him.” You swallowed with a nod, standing up from your desk.

-

“I’m sorry.” You immediately spoke once Javier had settled back at his desk. The man spent hours doing some meaningless task in the file room; most likely just to avoid you. “I haven’t been taking your feelings into account. I just… assumed you didn’t care.”

“I figured that was what you wanted.” Javier simply answered, eyes meeting your own. He leaned in his desk chair, arm resting over the backrest. 

“No-” You quickly yelped, feeling your face gather heat, “I mean…Can we talk in the conference room?” You then whispered, suddenly so aware of your coworkers and how silent the office seemed. Nobody's eyes were on you and Peña, but you could tell they had purposely stilled their movements to hear better. 

The man only gave you a simple nod, gesturing for you to lead the way. 

Once the two of you had made it to the conference room, you quickly closed the door and blinds on the window-filled wall. The sensation of Javier's eyes on your back urged you to turn around. 

“First, I want to apologize for acting like such an ass out in the field. I'm used to only having to worry about myself, and I wasn't thinking about…” You trailed off, hand hovering over your belly, “I should've been vested. And followed you onto the roof.” You added, finally making eye contact with the man. 

He sat leaning against the conference table, arms folded which caused his biceps to bulge deliciously. You know if you weren't pregnant, he'd have a lit cigarette between his lips. 

“I want to apologize too. I shouldn’t have acted out. I-” He cut himself off, standing up straight now, “I care about you, and the kid.” He gestured to your belly, glancing down. You had the bump hidden quite well under a flowy blouse, but even just knowing it was there caused his heart to pick up speed.

Unable to stop the smile from growing across your cheeks, you dropped your head shyly. He had spoken such simple words, but they meant everything to you. Never did you expect for him to say he was sorry, as well as admit emotion. It almost made you hopeful- but you quickly had to shut down that feeling, not wanting to get disappointed or hurt. You know that nothing is going to come from this. Javier is nothing more than your baby’s father. He’s probably just apologizing to keep you happy.

You then cleared your throat and met his gaze once more, having properly discouraged yourself, “So, are we good?” 

“Yes.” He murmured.

You gave him one last nod before turning on your heel, approaching the door. Standing alone with him was beginning to feel overwhelming.

“Wait,” Javier interrupted your exit, grasping your bicep and pulling you back over to him. His other hand cupped your jaw in the process, pulling your gaze up to match his as his lips met your own with fervor.

Melting into the kiss, your arms grasped onto his shirt, pulling your chests taught. His arms snaked around your waist, lifting you up from your ass and quickling placing you onto the conference table just behind your bodies. Wrapping your legs around his figure, your hands moved up to the back of his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair.

“God,” Javier groaned against your lips, hands fishing under your blouse. Your body reacted delightfully to his touch, only yearning for more. 

“Missed you,” You mumbled. Javier unhooked your bra and pulled it away from your chest, quickly cupping your breasts as soon as they hung freely. He could feel how swollen and full they’d gotten, only causing his mouth to water.

Javier then growled, fingers twisting your nipple softly, “I need to fuck you,” 

His statement caused your pussy to throb, but you quickly pushed him away, “Not in the office.”

“Why not?” He frowned, head twisting in question as he stepped backwards towards the door, locking it, “Just need to be quiet.”

 Biting your lip, your morals fought a losing battle as the man began unbuttoning his top and slowly stepping towards your seated figure. He returned to the same position he was before, securing your legs around his waist once more. He then guided your arms up, taking off your blouse, allowing your bra to fall off in the process.

You heard him softly groan at the sight of your breasts before he leaned over, lips meeting the delicate skin of your nipple, sucking and biting tenderly. Tossing your head back in pleasure, you felt as the man began to grind his hips into your own, hard cock pressing up uncomfortably against his tight jeans.

Reaching down, you rubbed him through the denim, causing him to falter in his movements, “Christ, hermosa,”

Finding the hem of your pants, the man slipped his hand in past your underwear feeling the full bush of your pussy before his fingertips met your clit. Accidentally moaning at the sensation, Javier quickly put his hand up to your mouth, covering it gently. Your arousal only caused his cock to throb harder. 

Unzipping his jeans, he freed himself and gave his dick a few pumps, grumbling lowly, “Gonna fuck you,”  

“Please,” You pleaded against his other hand, which was still covering your mouth. 

Lifting your ass up off of the table momentarily, the man slid your pants and underwear down, exposing your pussy for him to enjoy. Mouth watering at the sight, he dropped to his knees, quickly dipping his tongue deep into your core. Biting your lip to repress the sounds of pleasure you wanted to spew, your lower belly grew hot with pleasure as Javier sucked your clit harshly and slid two fingers in.

“Oh- God, Javi-” You whimpered, one of your hands lifting from the table and tangling into his hair. You could hardly see him over your pregnant belly, making the reach a little difficult. The man hummed against your pussy, pleased with how well you were responding to him. Recalling the last time you had sex, your bodies naturally seemed to understand each other perfectly; and it seems it’s happening this time as well.

With his tongue working expertly against your clit, your pussy clenched around his fingers. He could feel that you were getting close to coming, and picked up his pace in combination with sucking your little bundle of nerves more harshly. 

“Cum for me, cariño.” You heard Javier growl, just before you couldn’t take it anymore and felt your orgasm wash through your entire body.

The man wasted no time licking you clean before standing back up, quickly plunging his cock deep into heat. His hand covered your mouth once more, silencing the yelp of pleasure that was leaving your lips. Thrusting his hips, the man fucked you roughly on the conference table, causing it to shake with the movements. You could feel every inch as he did so, only adding to your pleasure.

Balancing your weight onto one hand, you moved the other down to your clit and rubbed feverishly, throwing your head back in pleasure. Clenching around the man's cock at the sensation, he groaned softly, faltering his thrusts slightly before continuing.

“Fuck you feel so fucking tight. If you weren’t already pregnant, I’d do it again.” He grumbled as one of his hands rested on your belly, helping move your body to the rhythm of his thrusts, “Your pussy feels that good.”

Your second orgasm caught you by surprise, the man's words luring you there quickly. Javier’s own orgasm followed closely behind, your cunt clenching around his cock, milking him thoroughly. His head tossed back in pleasure, continuing to thrust lazily until you both became too sensitive at the feeling.

“Fuck,” Javier cursed while tucking himself back into his jeans, still breathing heavily. His button-down remained open, deliciously showing off his gleaming, sweat covered chest. You paused at the sight, biting your lip, before slipping off the table and collecting yourself as well.

“We should get back to work,” You murmured, embarrassment slowly setting in, now realizing you just fucked Javier in a very inappropriate place. Anyone could’ve knocked on the door or windows; and what if it happened to be Steve or the Ambassador?

Instead of responding vocally, Javier only nodded, eyeing your frame up and down as he buttoned his shirt back up.

[chosonore]

summary: choso always takes good care of you, whether you're sick or not. even when you're sick and slightly delirious, your opinion could never be swayed - you loved choso with all your heart.

a/n: honestly, this is purely self-indulgent because i'm sick and i want a choso to take care of me until i know what's wrong and get better 🥺 it's inspired by the naoya fic i've written a while ago but uh this just really reads like a love letter to choso lol. i love him so much i'm not even kidding, no one could ever compare to him

if you were to describe the relationship between choso and you, it would be comfortable silence. choso didn't speak a lot, rarely starting a conversation on his own unless he was overcome by sudden curiosity. truthfully, you didn't mind as you were a quiet person yourself. and somehow, the communication was effortless, a silent and mutual understanding of your needs. he made you feel comfortable and safe, cared for as he always seemed to sense what you needed. falling in love with choso was easy and so natural, as if you'd been lovers in your previous lives. you'd been a couple for a long time now, but it wasn't until recently that you moved in with him. almost instantaneously, a routine was established - while you were busy with your studies, choso spent most of his time at the tattoo studio he recently opened with his friends. you didn't mind because still, he always made time for you. with no shadow of a doubt, he would always prioritize you before anything. so, every bit of time that you could get was spent together.

as any other day, you woke up alone in your bed, the scent of freshly brewed tea wafting through the air. choso sometimes left early in the morning to work on administrative tasks or tidying the studio but never failed to prepare you a little breakfast beforehand. as you sat up, a wave of nausea overcame you, quickly forcing you to lie down again. it was only then that you noticed you felt strangely cold and your nose was stuffed, shuddering uncomfortably in your clothes. it was rare that you got sick, so everytime it did happen, it drained you rapidly. blindly reaching for your phone, you texted choso, blinking at the bright screen.

me: i think i got sick :( can you pick up some medicine on your way home?

almost instantly, your screen lit up.

choso 💉: ?

"hello?" you croaked as you accepted choso's call and sniffled quietly.

"are you okay? do you want me to come home early?" choso might have sounded indifferent but you knew better. he would never show his concern to you, always wanting to keep his strong and protective persona. he was just that kind of person, he lived to be a good example to others.

"no it's okay, choso. i think it might be a really bad cold, that's all. i'll be fine if i get enough rest."

a hum. choso didn't sound convinced.

"then get some rest, yeah? make sure to have some tea. i'll wrap things up here and come home in a bit. call me if you need anything."

you hummed in agreement, making a weak kissy noise as you said goodbye to him and chucked your phone on the night table. no matter how much you wanted to convince him to continue his work, he would come home regardless. it didn't sit well with him to not care for you while you were sick. a small smile found its way onto your lips, how lucky you were to have found a lover like him. as you drifted off to sleep, choso was quickly finishing his paperwork, earning some amused glances from his friends. it was evident that this had to do with his girlfriend - choso would never let anyone tell him what to do nor do them any favours if it wasn't someone he deeply cared for.

"you're really speedrunning through everything to get back home to y/n, huh? you only got here," geto teased him, looking up from the sketches he was preparing for display.

"she got sick this morning. wanna be there for her in case it gets worse. i don't have any appointments for today anyways so you'll be fine," choso curtly explained, not picking up on geto's teasing undertone. even though they liked to joke about how whipped he was for you, they never questioned him - you were his love, his light. if anything, they envied him for the relationship, a relationship that flowed so effortlessly and easily like a spring working its way through bottlenecks and rocky river beds, silent and yet strong. geto pat choso's shoulder and shot him a knowing look, reassuring him that they could run the studio just fine.

even if you didn't sound like your afflictions were severe, choso still felt uneasy. he wanted to make sure you were okay, wanted to care for you. maybe it was moreso his fear of losing people he loved, but he couldn't deny his caring nature. on his way home, he'd picked up some ingredients to make soup as well as some medicine. music was sounding through the apartment as he entered and placed the bags on the counter, keeping an eye out for you. were you still in bed? he padded towards your shared bedroom, quietly nudging the door open as he squeezed his way in. you were laying on the bed, giggling at a book you were reading, not having noticed him yet.

the bed dipped next to you, making you drop the book you were holding. choso's twin tails came into your vision until you could see the entirety of him hovering above you, scrutinizing your figure in thought. "hi baby," he greeted you with a gentle smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "how are you feeling?"

"kinda achy and cold," you described with a pout, leaning into choso's touch as he brushed your hair with his fingers. "did you bring me some medicine?"

choso nodded, explaining that he'd be making you some soup as it was better not to take the medicine on an empty stomach. he wrapped you in the blanket before disappearing in the kitchen. you listened to the sounds in the kitchen, feeling more at ease now that he was home. you must have fallen asleep as the soup was done, its savoury scent rousing you from your slumber. as the primary cook in this household, choso's cooking skills were excellent and never failed to amaze you. sometimes you couldn't believe he was real. choso kept an eye on you as you munched away, handing you the medicine once you were done. he joined you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you as he pulled you towards him. you were placed on his lap like a baby, making you giggle as you leaned against his chest.

"will you play with my hair?" you requested with a small yawn. choso obliged, weaving his fingers through your hair as he worked through the knots and massaged your scalp. you hummed in relaxation, struggling to keep your eyes open. instead, you focused on the tattoos on his arm that was placed around your waist, tracing the patterns with your fingers. when you first met, the skin on his arm was sparsely filled, he'd only started on completing his sleeve tattoos. it was a slow and gradual process. you were always the first person he'd proudly showed a new addition to, and in a way, the tattoos marked the journey of your relationship. you were thankful for him, thankful to have found someone who silently understood you.

he was too hesitant to ask you just yet as you'd told him years prior that you weren't sure about getting tattoos but you knew he wanted to be the one to give you your first tattoo. maybe you were delirious from your sickness, maybe it was then in that moment that you realized you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, maybe it was your overwhelming love- "choso? i think it's time i get a tattoo soon."

choso's hand came to a halt and he made an incredulous noise. "y/n, i don't think- it might be better if we discuss this when you feel better again."

"no, i'm serious. it's just... i trust you so much. you always take good care of me and you're just always there. i'm uh- i honestly can't imagine my life without you, i just love you so much," you confessed with embarrassment, hiding your face in your hands as you finished talking. choso chuckled as he pried your hands away, pecking your lips in adoration. he looked gleeful, as if hearing your admission of love for the first time - the feeling was mutual, you just couldn't believe he was yours.

"we'll talk about this again when you've fully recovered. but i'm happy that you trust me with this."

"i'll be fine soon, i just need a lot of vitamin c," you giggled hysterically. "vitamin choso."

choso groaned but couldn't stop the laughter tumbling from his lips either, opting to tickle your sides and blowing raspberries into your shoulder. you squealed, trying to push him off you before being pulled back into his arms again. choso buried his head in the crook of your neck, placing a kiss on it. he didn't show you his face, not wanting you to see his teary eyes.

"i love you a lot, you know?"

"i love you more."

[rsmrymnt-tea]

「 🐳 」

it takes some figuring out and a willingness to maybe be at least a little uncomfortable and very vulnerable.

even more confirmation that dolasach definitely fits the bill for “#1 satan appealer” and “#1 validator of whale anon's TEDthoughts” !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

i find that using multiple forms of symbolism to inspire character creation, especially if you take inspiration from animals, makes workshopping feel so much more effortless? too much of it can cause one to spiral and lose sight of who their oc is when they direct their focus molding them into the symbols rather than the other way around. like you, i think it's just so much more easier to let things be instead of forcing myself to fit a status quo.

tbh with you i didn't even mind that you didn't stick with the assignment of only explaining dola's feelings! as someone who is notorious for being able to shamelessly lore dump and engage in oc conversation up to 7 hours on and off it makes me feel a lot more relieved knowing that other people are willing to go above and beyond the assignment they were given 😭 (/pos).

although, this is also my weakness when it comes to sending in anonymous asks ;w;; i want to say so much but i must do it in a way where it's comprehensible and condensed instead of giving you 38924923 paragraphs, which i can only wish i could do.

and i mentioned this before (or maybe it's buried deep in the response im typing up atm..) but it warms my heart that there's also someone who has difficulty explaining their mc in brief terms!!

i often get stuck between “ah, so you only view my mc on a surface level despite all the information i've given you” and “this is a good conversation starter for someone who doesn't know my mc”. the other day i teased someone into telling me who they believe would be the most likely to be romantically paired with my mc, and i had such a visceral reaction to it that i didn't know whether to be offended or to outright laugh .. but i just?? couldn't blame them??? like yeah i get it on paper it seems like my mc would be romantically involved with simeon but holy shit she would not have a good time if that were that case KJNDFKFJS

the way i present her to people is based on what others have told me once they've gotten to know who she is from her youth up until her late twenties (and soon to be, accidental immortality that has been creeping up on her from before the story of the devildom began . . .), is something that i've come to realize really isn't the best course of action skfnkskjf so i'll be using you as my guinea pig i hope you don't mind 🙏

which is why i think it's taking so long for me to respond? i'm trying to present you all the important details in a condensed manner, but even then, it isn't enough (｡•́︿•̀｡) but i'm not one to give up i think it's pretty fun lolol [side eyes my two self-indulgent 40+k fics that are purely for her most important relationships]

back to our beautiful dolasach! the way mc is presented in-game sends sickening chills down my ribs and forms a tight knot in my stomach, so whenever i see issues rising between other mcs and the obm cast i get really giddy! it says so much about them, from how they choose to behave or respond, to how much they choose to say . . . aaa what a dream come true <3 and it's exceptionally rare to find a mc like yours and i mean that sincerely. it's not often you see an author dive into the ugly parts of a character and still make it not inherently beautiful, but rather make it feel bittersweet.

and i really adore how you mention immortality because a while ago i went on a “what does immortality mean for immortals but specifically solomon because i said so and not in the way where he grieves but in the way where his traits have over-ripened and his relationship to trauma has become over-developed” spiel and it reminded me of something i wrote so [gently hands you this]

Is this a flaw of immortality, that everything transient seems so frail by comparison, that you’ve lived so long you’re weighed down by the memory of everything that has passed before, that you find it impossible to just live, to let things be?

and after all of the posts i've stuck around for i don't believe i've pieced together what dolasach's goal would be? there is the situation of separating themself from the identity that is inherently attached to her parents, of becoming satisfied in general, of redemption for herself . . . hm! ＿〆(。。)

also i took a peek at your TEDthought of dolasach's name and all i can say is that hi hello that is a perfect parallel to satan who wishes to separate himself from lucifer and it also makes sense that she'd have another name for when she becomes immortal <33 a start of a new era, one that she will mold herself.

agsjsha Honestly I’d be disappointed in myself if Dola was suddenly not that compatible with Satan after making her just for him 😭

Big agree on having many places to pull inspiration from as something that makes workshopping easier, but not fully relying on them to shape a character. I like to think I take just enough to have some sort of loose guide for where I want Dola to be? Of course my process isn’t perfect since I tend to self-indulge often (like with me being adamant about Dola getting her immortality from Thirteen purely because the original Dolasach is a necromancer with a specialization of reaper) and I can’t really be sure that I’m keeping my own OC 100% in character all the time but you know. Real people aren’t 100% in character all the time either <-personal copium lol

I also think I tend to shift the canon characters’ personalities a little to make things a little easier and more entertaining for myself? But I will defend myself by saying that it’s not like game canon does a stellar job of keeping it’s own characters in character. And also I just take issue with some Choices™️ >.> ehem.

Anyway anyway >.> Semi-rant about game canon aside—

You 🤝🏼 Me -> not being able to keep things short. There is too much I want to say!! And when enabled and given the impression that someone gives a shit I will overdo it lmao >.> I also find that I figure things out better and faster when I’m using someone’s ask to rubber duck. Something about having to actually present my ideas to someone makes it easier to decide on what I want and where things should go, which tends to make my answers really long because I prefer to present everything in the form of actions, feelings, and thoughts more than simple description.

Personally, I don't actually like having to describe Dolasach in single, simple adjectives? Or any character, really, much like how I personally do not enjoy being asked to describe myself in five words during those stupid questionnaires and interviews for school and employment. I don't find it easy to find the right way to describe someone because I think people are too complex to simply leave it at a handful of adjectives, even more so when everyone's perception of a description can end up wildly varying.

So pls omg, don't worry too much about perfectly presenting every single thing about Godtongue to me in the span of one or two asks >.< I will inevitably misunderstand or miss something, which will just have you spend more time clearing things up—it may be better to show me small snippets at a time until I get a solid enough idea of them to work off of. It's impossible to truly condense someone into a few simple paragraphs when you know them insanely well due to having created them dfgkjh and I also don't want to frustrate you when there's things I don't get after you've gone through all the trouble of trying to figure out the perfect way to introduce more of her to me.

Because even then, I feel like because we don't think exactly alike, I'm not going to land on something truly to your satisfaction in just one or two exchanges. Literally every take I have on both Dola and the OM cast has taken a while to reach, and all the times people have told me I've been accurate with guessing what their OC/MC would be like have all been educated guesses that I'm shocked I've gotten right; I am fully expecting and also prepared to be told I'm wrong each time I post something about what someone thinks their character's relationship with Dola would be like tbh and I welcome that fully).

So like!! Don't worry about your response too much nonnie sdfhjkdg I'm not forcing you to rush, take your time; but know that I think that we'll get somewhere faster with getting to know the similarities and differences between Godtongue and Dola if we have a discussion? ;w; Especially if I'm going to be your guinea pig for trying out different way(s) of presenting her, because contrary to what a lot of people seem to think here, I'm not actually that smart when it comes to learning about a character >.>;;

Anyway uh, back to Dola?

I'm honestly so super flattered that you think all that sdhjkd Like it makes me feel like I'm doing something right with writing Dola, y'know? Because whenever I write her I tend to hope that I'm showing people someone very flawed and very human. There is plenty that she struggles with, and I don't want people to think that those struggles are in any way beautiful or to be romanticized. Bittersweet is a nice way to put it, yeah. I think there's something both wonderful and horrific about how she goes about trying to make the most of her life throughout the eras of it because honestly, I don't think she has any major long term goals beyond just trying to have a happy existence.

You mentioned not having pieced together what Dola's goal is, and I'm assuming you mean a long term overarching goal that bears some significance and influence to her actions overall.

The thing is, I think many of her goals fall into place throughout the course of her very long life. She does eventually find an identity separate from her parents both as a person and as an artist—something that becomes easily the more of her life she lives away from them (and also, well, spoilers but they die before she's 40 so she definitely outgrows them in many ways); she eventually becomes a sorcerer of high enough skill to stand alongside Solomon and even excels beyond him in certain fields; she eventually even comes to terms with accepting that allowing oneself to breathe will not undo all the work she's done. Like, she does reach points of satisfaction throughout her life, but it doesn't exactly take very long until there is something else that she wants, something else that grabs her attention and points her to direct her efforts and growth towards whatever it is.

But in immortality, I think she does eventually run out of things to aim for. I mean, the most impossible thing out of everything she wanted to achieve actually turns out to be possible—where does she go from there?

Is this a flaw of immortality, that everything transient seems so frail by comparison, that you’ve lived so long you’re weighed down by the memory of everything that has passed before, that you find it impossible to just live, to let things be?

The lack of anything to aim for does eventually get to Dola. There are definitely times when she struggles, like really struggle, when it comes to dealing with her immortality. But she refuses to call for death and die. She knows there is nothing for her after death (or at least thinks it—I may or may not do something with the demon!Dola AU who knows) and still finds a lot of joy in simply living her life with her found family. There is still plenty to learn, plenty to discover.

In her crisis I think it occurs to her that perhaps she must imagine Sisyphus happy. And it's a strange change, but is enough to keep her sustained in between the times when there is nothing grand to chase.

(Of course, I think there is a goal of some form that she doesn't quite recognize in the form of a devotion to the one other human who understands what she's going through. Like, as much as it feels weird to admit on here, even though she and Satan have been through so much together and well, even though I made her for Satan, in the long run I think it's Solomon who becomes a source of major comfort that Satan just can't offer because immortality is inherent to him and his society. Solomon is human with a much greater capacity for empathy than Dola has, and has been through the some of the worst of immortality already all alone. And when humanity ends and the earth is consumed by what was once the sun, and the Devildom has offered asylum for the two, it just... Bonds them together in such a crazy way. Idk.

I mean, she still loves Satan with all her heart and the two have a special bond that is completely different from what she and Solomon have. But it's hard to deny the differences, and I can see the two tearfully discussing their feelings regarding it in private at some point far down the timeline of Dola's life. Btw I don't think the brothers + royals ever die unless killed. Because I said so.)

Ah, re: her name tho! I don't think it's ever an intentional choice for 'Dolasach' to become the only name she's known by over the years—it just happens. In my head half her family all go by similar single-word aliases when working, and some of them also choose to just introduce themselves as their art alias because they like the sound of it better. Fully think her father's side started the tradition with like, the great-grandmother and then the next generation, then the next, then until Dola and her cousins. I don't think there's any deep reason as to why she started introducing herself as Dolasach either cause I fully believe her father + his siblings all helped pick out possible aliases for her and her cousins to choose from at some point and she thought 'Dolasach' sounded best and started using it everywhere that didn't need her legal/birth name. From there it just stuck as she doesn't really see much difference between her as an artist + her as herself.

Is it weird? Kinda but idk, they're artists that's my their excuse lmao

(Before I end this very long answer, I like to think that this is where Satan and Dola's problems with their identity differ. I think Satan's stems from not wanting to be thought of as a mere fragment of Lucifer and a deep dread of any confirmation that that's all he is, that his efforts are inevitably pointless because his origin means that his life will always revolve around the fact that he was born from Lucifer's wrath; he will always be less, he will always be linked, he will always be questioning whether he is merely the part of Lucifer that loathes himself personified. Dola's issues stem from her knowing she is different and wishing so desperately that people would see and recognize that. That the fruits of her labor stop being attributed to being part of her family that she loathes and dismissed as something inherent to her bloodline. She's also sick of being seen and used as a gateway to accessing her older relatives because it makes her feel like no one gives a shit about what she does.

I guess in short, I think Satan's battle is more with himself because I honestly think he's likely already killed everyone who's so much as whispered about comparing him to Lucifer so mostly, the main voice left belittling him the most is his own (and sometimes the brothers I guess, who seem to endlessly favor Lucifer more despite Satan being considerably nicer and more active in helping them out on the day to day?); Dola's battle, least by the time she's in the Devildom, is more with everyone else, and that's why she was able to help Satan deal with his issues. She's already been through the whole 'am I just them but shitter/what is my inherent worth/who am I without them' ordeal and can help him to some extent, at least.)