Asmodeus x Fizzarolli Oneshots (Fizzarozzie)

:12: What Went Wrong?

word count: 4106

⚠️TW FOR SEXUAL ASSAULT!! No explicit scenes though, just beware! ⚠️

—

Muffled voices rang from the television.  Ah, it was Hell-a-Novela.  He should probably go watch that. 

Yet instead, Mammon laid still.  Face first into his mattress, not moving a muscle.  He took notice of his disastrous room as he walked into it 4 hours ago.  There were clothes everywhere, bottles and trash scattered throughout his room.  Had he been neglecting his house?  ..yes.  Had he been neglecting himself? Also, yes.

Mammon hadn't moved an inch since he flopped on the bed exactly 4 hours ago, besides breathing and the occasional yawn or hiccup from crying earlier.  Why was he crying?  He didn't exactly know. 

...

The tv was starting to get annoying.

...

Mammon jolted his body up, ignoring his tense muscles and sore legs, he stomped towards the living room.  He stepped over the trash, slammed the door open, and shut the tv off as quick as possible. 

Mammon stood as still as possible, trying to hear for any more noise.

...

dishwasher?

no, birds.

people?

coming from outside.

more noise.

there's more noise.

...

He clenched his fists, his tails curling around his legs tightly.

...

Mammon breathed in.

; And Mammon breathed out.

He gently tossed the remote on the couch, yanking his laptop off the coffee table and made his way to the bathroom.  Maybe he could do work there, where it was quiet.

Mammon huffed as his tails dragged across the hard wood floor.  He counted how many steps it took to get to the bathroom.  Yesterday, it was 18.  The day before yesterday, 30.  He got distracted.

Mammon stepped lightly on his toes, quietly counting every step.  It was a habit he picked up from when he was younger, how to be quiet. 

...

17 steps.  17 steps today.  Mammon sighed as he pushed the bathroom door shut, locking it with a click.  He practically threw himself against the wall, sliding down to the floor.  He opened his laptop, entering his password.  What was his password?  Eh, who cares.  Mammon quickly shut his computer, standing up to look in the mirror. 

Mammons jester cap must've been thrown off at one point earlier, leaving his dark, long, shaggy hair to fall behind his ears and over his shoulders.  He had  to cut it.  His hair was a mixture of curly and just plain knotted.  Green hair dye, faded over the years, left the bottom half of his hair stained. 

Maybe he should take a shower. 

Mammon immediately turned his attention over to his decent sized shower. he opened the glass door to make sure to turn the water on the hottest setting.  He didn't like being cold.

Once the water started to steam, Mammon started stripping off the little clothes he had on, which happened to be a tank top and boxers.  He felt around his back, feeling if any scars had gone away yet, which none did.  He knew they never would, but he hoped.  He hesitated, but slowly lifted his hand up to feel behind his neck.  Still there, from the times he'd been picked up like a damn  cat and thrown around like a damn bouncing ball.