blue.

Leave a “Amuse Me” in my ask, and I will write a funny drabble about my character trying to cheer your up.

See, he just wasn't a humorous person. He just didn't find anything funny or amusing unless it was deliberately something caused by himself. He didn't particularly find happiness in laughter or joy in smiling. He just wasn't an upbeat little shit like 90% of the people he'd met.

So in that one instance where he quite literally --in all cliche and ironic fashion-- slipped over a banana peel, he found no humor in the situation at the least.

His sunglasses flung off his face as he flailed around uselessly, falling onto his back hard on the gravel, a few rocks pressing into his back, causing him to let out... not the manliest of noises.

He got over it quickly though, sliding his glasses back on and dusting himself off.

He was planning to shrug it off as if no one saw what just happened.... but being the person that he was, nothing ever truly went to plan.

He shot a sharp glare to a girl nearby who seemed to be in complete stitches at the situation.

"Yeah, well go sit on it and spin, ya little fuck...."

And apparently, his cursing did absolutely no progress in saving face-- as proved when she continued laughing her full-on head off.

"Mankind is fucking stupid."

Leave a “Remember Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character trying to get yours to remember them

It was rare.

Out of all 7 sins, it was ironic how Lust was the one who got so easily emotionally attached. He lived the longest out of his brothers, and he was able to recall the most memories from past lifetimes. That didn't entirely mean he could so easily pick out a name within his sea of memories, but on those strange occasions.... it just happens.

It was, of course, easier when the person in question hadn't had any drastic physical changes other than the outerwear and haircut. He was still the Miho he met that day on the beach-- the one during that lifetime... well, he couldn't entirely pinpoint which lifetime, or even what his identity was during it. All he could remember were nights on the beach, laying on the sand with his lover.

He couldn't let him go now that he was right there.

"Don't you know me!? Mon-- yanno... fuck, what was my name--"

He tried his best, knowing perfectly well that the other man hadn't entirely understood why Lust had so suddenly stopped him in the middle of the street.

"Fuck-- Lust-- I'm Lust! Blue blood-- remember!?"

He began growing more and more desperate as the other turned away, a surge of panic flowing through each and every single nerve, forcing him to grip the not-so-stranger's wrist.

"Blue... Blue-- I'm Blue! Blue Monster-- the beach..."

No, he wouldn't remember. It was eons ago, and by now, the other man had most likely moved on with his life and had forgotten him, just like any usual person in any given lifetime.

That's what life is. That's what relationships are.

Leave a “Tell Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character confessing something to yours

They sat back on the floor of the beachside cottage, Blue's head idly resting on Miho's lap. They had been pretty much spending the day lazing about, merely enjoying each other's presence. They had conversations of inane things, of silly fantasies and life stories, of life, of love... it just seemed like the right time to really get down under, to things that really mattered.

He gazed up at Miho for what seemed like the longest time, who of course had his fingers tracing in Blue's hair, just the way he liked it.

"Yanno... there's this thing. About angels, y'see?"

Miho gave him a quizzical stare, to which Blue continued on.

"They say they're all great n' mighty and all that. But they also say some of 'em get sent down to Earth... yanno, like..."

"Fallen angels?"

"Yeah."

There was a temporary silence, one that was filled with contemplation.

"They live n' die... They just keep doin' that over n' over again. They remember things that happened in the lives they lost, so they kinda.... try not ta get too close ta people, y'know? 'Least that's how the stories said it."

Another silence.

"But hey-- it was just somethin' I read earlier. Ain't nothin' ta think too hard about, yanno?" He let out a laugh, reaching over and softly pinching the skin of Miho's cheek, earning him a pout in response.

"But the angels... why do you know so much?"

He took a moment to himself, thinking about whether or not it would be the right thing to say... but no-- he couldn't. This lifetime was supposed to be one of ease, of happiness. Of love and laughter and Miho.

Basically, he needed a subject change, and fast.

Leave a “Get Me” in my ask, and I will write a drabble about my character saving yours.

He was probably the farthest thing from a savior or superhero.

See, it wasn't like he couldn't hold his own in a fight-- he knew basic survival skills and all that bullshit... but after living and dying so many times, of course he'd have an aversion to getting himself killed due to extremely stupid things such as attempt to save others.

But of course, humans were really fucking stupid. They had something that pretty much makes life ten million times harder. That thing was called morals.

So as he watched the scene in front of him, he began to realize how much he truly hated being a human. He didn't want to give even half a shit... but fucking humanity caused him to have emotions. 

The little bugger was fucking helpless against those bastards. So of course he had to do something. Well... being the embodiment of lust, there was pretty much one thing that he usually did that won any battle, no matter how large or small.

Mon strutted straight up to the perpetrators, making sure they were within radius before speaking.

"Y'al fuckers should find something better to do. Like me, for instance." Fuck, that was a horrible line.

Mon has a clear accent, often talkin’ like this n’ shit. He swears a lot, too, especially when it’s not necessary.

He wears shades a lot to conceal his identity— his eyes hold a blue tint to them due to his ability.

Even though he fucks around and whatnot, he feels as if his heart is taken by one person, and one person only. That person, of course… doesn’t even exist in this lifetime. Whether or not he’ll be able to move on isn’t even a question. In short, he’s asexual, and looking for no romantic relationship whatsoever.

He lives on the streets of course, bouncing city to city on the run from the Brotherhood. All his possessions are things he steals from people that he has slept with.

Leave a “Remember Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character trying to get yours to remember them

"What the fuck-- we were at war!" 

"..."

"Pharzuph! That's me-- do you really have no fucking clue!?"

"Not reall--"

"Holy fucking shit."

He nearly smacked his face against the closest wall, but instead settled for shoving it into the pillow with the temporarily belief that he could possibly suffocate himself if he shoved his face in for enough time. Of course, the man across the room held absolutely no interest in the topic at hand.

A groan escaped, managing to roll onto his back, blank eyes staring at the ceiling.

It was ... kind of ironic, really. Angels and demons have been at war for years, and this 'Jasper' guy just happened to be one of the demons that were after his head at some point in time. Now they just both happened to be in the human realm, and ... well, friends? Or whatever the hell their relationship was.

Mon was pretty much just crashing down in his place.

But still-- "How the fuck do you not remember this shit!?"

"Dunno."