#oc deven

[daydreamidea]

Gender Envy

He was punk, wearing leather gloves and a jacket covered in patches. She didn’t do ballet anymore, but her immediate love of his whole aesthetic could not have been more obvious. Dove was struggling with something she would need more time to understand, but in the moment sheer adoration was the best she could muster.

She wanted the rocker look, the leather and the spikes, the confidence and presents that he radiated. Was he really that perfect? No, looking back Deven knew that little him was off by a few miles from the class we worked for. He had been scruffy, rough around the edges and in from them. But he was unlocking just what he had been missing at the time, he had been the pinnacle of masculine that he wanted but couldn't understand. The best he could do was score the dates he had.

Dove had dated him, Jonathan? Just John? It had been almost 15 years so Deven didn’t really remember him all to well. He did know his face though, and the shock of seeing his only ex at a concert was electric. It was seeing someone he loved once upon a time, but it hadn’t really been Deven, and he could see some new maturity in his gender idol. Deven was twice as old as he had been the last time they had met, and when they had it was more or less just a passing acknowledgement. He had become what little him wanted, the handsome man with a musical career and money, respect, class, and confidence. He had a beautiful fiancé too, and she was more amazing than his teen self could fathom.

It was exciting to actually recognize how much he liked himself, and Deven looked over himself in the mirror before bed. the scars which created the body he loved, the tattoos and piercings that made the superstar aura radiate in dressing rooms. He worked hard to have this self-love, and the gender envy he had felt so long ago was what he saw in the mirror. What he wanted to be was who he was now, and the pride he took in that was what he loved the most in his reflection.

[daydreamidea]

Transmasc

“Deven you really need to change, that get up is way to formal for this.”

“What do you mean?” Deven looked down at himself, he really didn’t get what Primrose meant by that. Was it the dress shirt and the vest? Or both of those with the dress slacks? This interview had cameras, he wanted to look good, how is this too formal?

“I mean you look like a waiter. At least change into a patterned shirt or something dude.”

“Fine, fine.” Deven stepped back into his walk in closet, shutting the door behind him. He shared the closet with his wife Helena, but none the less half of the clothes inside were his own, so he really never ran out of options. He unbuttoned his vest and dress shirt, dropping them to the floor and starting to finger through the hangers of shirts. He pulled out a dark brown shirt with black lacing on the collar and sleeve cuffs. He held it up in front of himself and looked in the mirror, approving of the total look he pulled it off the hanger and unbuttoned it. Pulling it on he saw his chest scars disappear behind the fabric, French tucking the top into his pants.

It always felt nice to smooth down his shirts, just appreciating himself and his body in little ways. It was nice to like how he looked, even on his bad days, it felt better. He stepped back out of the closet with some flair, showing off his change of attire.

“You still look way to dressed up for this, it’s a fucking radio interview, no one will see you.”

“Yes, that is true, but when I hear it later a want to know the interviewer though I looked hot.”

“They always fucking do! You’re the hot one!”

“No that’s Helena. I’m her arm candy.”

[daydreamidea]

Folklore

“Oh god. Not again.”

Helena picked up about a dozen dead thing on her doorstep every month. Mostly rats and mice, pests to most people. Twice she got larger, far more unacceptable things left there. It made her sick to her stomach, sometimes they were frozen from the night, other times they had bleed all over her front step once she had opened the door. Once it was put inside of her morning paper, the plastic cover leaving her none the wiser, and she unfurled a mutilated mouse onto her kitchen counter.

She felt awful each time, and not just for the animals, but for the kids who were doing it. She was their local legend; she was their moth man. Rumor got out, when she had first moved in, that she was a monster. Some older ladies claimed she was a witch or some demonic entity. Some teens claimed she was a walking corpse, and some others said, since she loved swimming and had such and affection for fish, that she was some sort of siren or mermaid. They said her husband, Deven, was a witch too, or some sort of harpy. Rumors and lore were made for them by the local high school population, and soon they were daring their little siblings to drop ‘sacrifices’ on their doorstep. They said it would keep the witches from eating them, or that it would keep the harpy from scooping them up and dropping them in the river for his mermaid wife to drown. Not a day seemed to go by where a kid wouldn’t scream when they went in a store, or they would be laughed at by the teens.

But even the people who started the lies were scaring themselves. Soon the whole town saw them as freaks, and to much paranoia about them was soaked into the fabric of the whole town.

And for as much as she could handle, a third cat on her doorstep was the final straw.

Helena called up a realtor that very day, after she had called animal control. She cried, and Deven did his best to help her, even with him crying as well. It hurt having to leave, they bought the house to start living a life away from judgemental parents and people who didn’t appreciate them. Turns out they just moved into a new form of alienation. Normally it would hurt to uproot like this, to run away and leave friends behind, but they never really steeled into this town, so there was no trouble at all as they packed their things less than a month later.

Now the house can’t seem to sell, the towns people saying that there is something evil still living in their old house, despite nothing evil being there to begin with. But no more animals were hurt, no more reports of nightmares with the local children.

Helena has a new reputation, as the lady with three black cats, and more love to give than could ever be matched.

[daydreamidea]

Occult

The second Helena first tried on that oversized, hand-me-down, over-worn funeral dress when her and her sister were sifting through their aunts’ things, the world stopped. It looked awful and looking back she can never believe she would wear it, but that first taste of black, dark, goth, it changed everything about her style. She found so much of herself, and as she expanded her wardrobe with new desires she only became more comfortable with her own image.

Now an adult, living with her fiancé in their own home, she would look in the mirror to see herself. Her skin was just as dark as ever, but was now laced with blue koi fish tattoos along her arms. Some times her hair was a dyed a dark blue, but at the time her natural black hair was let free and curling, the roots grown out and mixing with the dyed. She loved her mascara tears and black smoky eyes, dark natural lipstick and silver jewelry. At the moment she had in silver stud earrings and a thin grey fabric chocker on, a few rings on along with her engagement ring and a pentagram necklace. Her dress was full length but thin, a skin-tight leotard of sorts on underneath the sheer fabric for the skirt. The sleeves were the same sheer and were loose fitted, cuffing at the end.

Helena always got a treat when she could get Deven just as dressed up for their date nights. He preferred a more traditional suit and tie, with his preferred gold jewelry, but tonight she convinced him to match with her. Her wore a similarly billowy shirt, the upper buttons undone to show his chest and the furthest in corners or is top surgery scars. His dress pants were high wasted and embroidered with a rusted gold thread, a pattern of feathers and triple slashes. His make-up was similarly smoky with accenting yellow eyeliner and small yellow gems were applied. He also wore his engagement ring, paired with a gold cross necklace.

Their date night started as the sun was setting, with reservations one of the fanciest restaurants in their town, not all that busy with locals and more tourists away on holiday. The restaurant was overpriced, but the waterfront location, the live music, and the open skyline was so romantic it was quite the attraction. Folks who were from away and were unfamiliar with the couple always stared at the extravagant clothing they wore, but the staff always appreciated their patronage. Helena was an exceptionally good tipper and they both had great patience with the new servers.

[daydreamidea]

Candles

Thin streams of smoke seemed like no issue in Helena’s initial planning for the night, the idea being that candles would be a more sensual option for her and Devens night in. One candle was not all she had used however, and soon enough she wound up cursing herself out and trying to open every window she could and pulling down fire alarms which blared away. She was pulling out the last of the batteries when she heard the clicking of the front door opening, looking down the hall at Deven already snuffing out some candles.

“Dev don’t worry! I’ve got everything under control! You just settle down and wait a minute?”

“At this rate you’re burning the place down, I’m helping.” Deven finished blowing out, pinching the wicks, and otherwise killing the candles he came upon. Helena noticed as he came fully into their home that he looked strangely… wet? His hair usually stayed in place the whole day with the product he wore, slicked back and ombre blonde. His make up didn’t appear to have run, but looked far duller than normal, and the top of his shirt was unbuttoned, which was normal, but seemed less so out of preference and out of annoyance.

They both walked together through the house dousing the little flames before coming to their bedroom, which clearly was meant to be the epicenter of romance, but was mostly a flickering, slightly smoky, very waxy mess. The curtains had been pulled shut, but in the clearing measures the whole window was opened, a portion of the candles having gone out on their own already. “Why did you come back so early?” Helena spoke while walking the unequally lit room, “I was hoping to fix this disaster before you got back. It was supposed to be really romantic you know?”

“Believe me when I say there is nothing I would have enjoyed less in this moment than a candle lit home.” Deven pulled Helena into his chest, and she could feel the strange wetness in full. He wasn’t drenched but certainly not just sprinkled on.

“Hun why are you back so early?”

“Someone was smoking in the bathroom and set all the sprinklers and fire alarms off.”

“Oh Dev! Do you want to get changed and cleaned up or-“

“No. No, I just want to spend some quiet time with my fiancé. And honestly that is all I want, just a quiet rest of the day. Sorry if I seemed pissed off with you, but I’m just burnt out after what happened at the store and,” Deven kissed Her on the cheek. “The perfect way to recover would be getting every fire hazard in our home cleaned up.”

Helena shook her head and gave him a kiss herself. Over the next hour all of the tea lights, scented candles, and cheap little things were placed either into the trash or safely packed away in their new candle drawer. Helena’s prayer candles made their way back to their designated places, and though the evening was far less steamy than expected, or should one say smoky, Helena was still able to get in a lovely and relaxing day with her fiancé. Deven never managed to buy any of their groceries that day, but it only served as an excuse for them to go together the next morning.