OK SO little update: I'm writing it but it kinda got away from me and it keeps getting longer than intended bc I'm having way too much fun lol I'll get it done tomorrow!
to the Jade-with-a-crush anon: I've started to write smth based on your asks and I'll have you know I'm giggling and kicking my feet and rolling on my bed and twirling my hair right now I'm having so much fun thank youuu for the inspo <33
Deuce, my spade boy, for the character bingo~~~
HII CHERRY!! as you wish!
from the first year gang, Deuce is actually my favorite! (Jack comes as a veeery close second fave) at the prologue I didn't really think much about him, then chapter 1 came and I decided he was going to be one of my favorites. yes it was at the eggs scene. HE'S JUST SO SWEET? I already have a soft spot for these delinquent types of characters and then he loves his mom so much he just wants to make her proud??? LITERALLY DEUCE SPADE THE ONLY MAN EVER
I think a lot about him, I'm sure if I was at NRC he'd be one of my first friends <3 he may be slow, but he's sooo dedicated it's truly endearing! I think he might come to ask for my help during classes and immediatly I'd go: you. you are my friend now.
the way he cares so much about his friends is so cute too, how he's ready to throw fists to protect them!! and when he switches to his gangster personality and everyone gets shocked it's so funny, I love his angry face sprite
there are so many scenes with Deuce that I absolutely adore, the eggs scene on chap1, when he comes to rescue us at the end of chap4, when he goes to the beach with Epel on chap5, the whole Wish Upon a Star event, his Ceremonial Robes vignette...
he makes me have to resist the urge to kiss his cheeks every time he says something cute. I'm squeezing his cheeks right now, they are irresistible. the way I'd be so ready to throw hands the moment anyone says anything bad about him ever. yes that includes Ace, square up!! I'm defending him with my life!!!
the way his character developed more on chap5 and he discovered his U.M. was sooo cool I was so proud of him!! I'd be bragging about it to the entire school "oh, Deuce has got the coolest Unique Magic I've ever seen. yup, even better than the dorm leaders!! he solos anyone with it!" cue to him being flustered but very pleased about it while Ace sulks on the background
onto the shameless promo: THIS WISH UPON A STAR FIC OMG OMG IT'S SO GOOD... like it hurts but in a good way you know... give it a chance!!!
tHE GRIM REALIZATION IM CACKLING ðŸ˜ðŸ˜
LITERALLY ME WHEN I REALIZED
Here is a group pic of Maleficent's goons. I think that one is Sebek's inspiration. Although I still think the lightening factors in somehow too.
oh I just remembered the pig looking ones!! also they look so goofy lmao
the croc one could definetely be part of the inspo!! tho I think the lightning is the most prominent aspect used for his character, it would surely explain where the whole half crocodile fae thing came from without getting Tick Tock involved!!
WON'T YOU CALL ME TONIGHT?┊ft: cater diamond
warnings: none! contains: gn! reader
notes: so there might be some errors in here bc my laptop is in like 1.5 pieces rn and is being propped up by an ibuprofen bottle and some post-it notes. this is what u call a low point.
cater, your beloved and closest friend in the world! oh my god, he's such a loser. he wants you to think he's cool, suave, put-together cay-cay!
in the way that cats have separation anxiety from their human counterparts, cater exhibits these traits with you.
he'll text you to ask if you're free and before you can get a chance to respond, you'll get a knock at your window.
it's cater and he wants to sneak out of the dorms together. say yes because otherwise, he's gonna stand there looking absolutely pathetic waiting for you to say yes.
going into town with him to window shop is a frequent activity. sometimes, you'll look at something a little too hard and he'll buy it. claims it's influencer money, he's a liar. don't try and force it back onto him, it'll end up in your bag again, somehow.
insists on having a sleepover at some point. yes, he's going to climb in through a window to get to your dorm room. you're really going to leave poor cater in the rain like that? for shame. (the rain was just him using a hose.)
he has those silly little sheet masks. probably sleeps with a giant fan going, so his room is so cold. if your clothes are a little too sheer, no blanket is going to help you retain any kind of warmth if cater gets thermostat permissions. ice is going to be forming on your windows but he's gonna be like "omg i'm not cold wdym :) ?"
cater will be blissfully sleeping while your teeth are chattering and u keep waking up in the middle of the night from the chill that's settled over you.
if you cling to him in your sleep for warmth, he won't mind! he'll be totally nonchalant, he's so used to this, what are you talking about? /s
you probably don't purposefully do it, reaching out in your sleep and wrapping your arms around his torso, maybe pulling him a little closer to you.
he knows good and well you're asleep, but it doesn't stop his mind from completely short-circuiting. you're so close to him, if he moves his face an inch, your face will touch his!
guys, he's a fucking loser. he's using his phone and trying to pretend everything is so normal but he's not even looking at his phone. his mind is elsewhere. it's like he's died and come back to life.
cater's vagueposting about this whole thing on magicam. god forbid u follow him at this point in time, he'll never be able to live it down. if he's smart, he'll remove you as a viewer on his story for the time being.
— ☆
HAPPY BDAY RIDDLE ILYYY
I'll give him a bouquet of red roses and a little kiss as a gift
Summary: Autumn passes by, with winter following closely. You stay, keeping his heart safe. You stay, and Riddle craves you more than anything in this world.
Notes: gn!reader, fluff with a bit of angst, riddle's mother is it's own warning, wrote this in like an hour while listening to Valentine by Laufey and First Love/Late Spring by Mitski
The wall was red. Not too vivid, to not hurt the eyes to look at, but not quite light enough to be pink. Riddle remembers clearly, the hours of staring at it, locked in his bedroom, marked it in his memory, burnt a hole and stayed at the back of his mind. Sometimes, if he closes his eyes long enough, he feels as if he's staring at that wall again.
As a child it felt agonizing. He stared and stared and stared, trying to will his brain to keep quiet for a little while, to stop thinking. He never managed to do that, not like the other kids, who always looked so cheerful, without a care in the world, only thinking about the present moment. Riddle wasn't like them, he never was. His brain didn't look at the wall and wondered about what the next episode of a cartoon would be or what sweet he would eat next or what prank he'd pull with his friends.
No, he wasn't like these misbehaving brats, his mother told him so. He thought about the exercise he couldn't get right and his mother's disappointed frown. What should he do to be better? He didn't want to be burden, the least he could do was get a simple exercise right. Other times he would think about the high grade he got on his latest test. His mother looked pleased then. Not happy, she was never happy, not around him. Perhaps if he only put more effort into studying, if he followed the rules, if he did everything as she told him to, perhaps then she would smile and tell him he did a good job. She loved him, she told him so. It just didn't feel like it, sometimes.
After meeting Trey and Che'nya, he stopped looking at the wall for a while. He was happy, he couldn't stand that reddish color anymore, nor his stray thoughts. He met a blue sky and green on the streets and the world was full of color. He bid the wall goodbye for good.Â
Even so, he missed staring at it when his free time was taken away from him. Back when he still could, his mind would rest a little and he could pretend he was doing it out of his own free will, not because he didn't have any game to play or any non academical book to read or any candy to snack. The books were nowhere as comforting as that familiar red shade. His chest ached. He wondered if that was what love felt like.
After his overblot, Riddle was lost. He was thankful for your help, for you stopping him from commiting even more mistakes and making him see how he was doing things wrong. Still, he couldn't help but resent you a little for opening his eyes, forcing him to leave the comfortable zone he was in.
He was taught to follow the rules, since it was the right thing. Naturally, everyone should do the same. Have their mother's never taught them how to behave? Riddle could do the job, put everyone in line, make Heartslabyul follow proudly in the Queen of Hearts' steps.
But the rules weren't always right, human nature was a complicated thing, there would always be exceptions. He couldn't expect everyone to act like him when they weren't brought up the same way. He should have been more considerate to their feelings, stopped to hear their justifications before collaring them mercilessly.Â
Riddle had never wanted to be a tyrant. He only ever had wanted to be a good ruler, someone his subordinates can count on.
He continued to be lost as he stared, alone, at the cooking book's instructions. Trey was so kind to lend it to him, even after all the mess he had made, even after everything he had put him through. He still smiled at Riddle and tried to help, in his own way.
Riddle wanted to cry, then. He wanted to apologize over and over, to thank Trey until he couldn't talk anymore, to ask why didn't he stop him sooner, why did no one tell him he was wrong, why did his mother mislead him so? He felt like a child, so small and pathetic. A lost child, at that. He refused to let the tears fall and only thanked Trey politely with a strained voice. From his firend's pitying smile, he could tell Trey saw through his façade easily, but didn't comment on it, letting him save the last bits of his dignity.
Wallowing in self pity wouldn't fix his mistakes nor get the tart done. He should get started as soon as possible and follow all the steps perfectly to bring a most satisfactory result. Although he couldn't find the measures for the secret oyster sauce Trey had told him about.Â
There's a sudden noise at the kitchen's door as someone enters, surprising him. Riddle turns around, not expecting any company, much less yours.
"Prefect. Have you forgotten something here?"
"No, I didn't. I wanted to see you, actually."
There's dread in his gut and his hands tremble slightly. He's not sure how to act after the stunt he pulled, after he had put you in danger on your first week, after he broke down crying in front of everyone. Perhaps you're here to demand a better apology or to mock him. So be it, he'll take it all gracefully.
"Oh? What for?"
"I want to help."
There's a soft smile on your face, determination shining in your eyes as you roll up the sleeves of your uniform and look around for an apron.
"Excuse me?"
"You're excused." Your smile turns into a playful grin and you let out a victorious sound as you put on the apron you found laying on the corner.Â
He's baffled. What were you talking about? Ace made it very clear he should do this alone to prove he was truly sorry for his past actions.
"I'm... not sure if I understand."
"Well, it's just that I didn't want to leave you alone after... uh... everything." You make a motion in the air with your hands, as if it would be enough to sumarize the whole disaster that had transpired. "You don't have to isolate yourself, you know. You can count on us if things get too tough."
There's a strange lump on his throat and he swears he has stopped breathing. What were you talking about? Why were you being so kind to him, of all people? You haven't even known each other for that long and he has only caused you trouble the whole time.
"Also, I had a lot of fun baking with the guys! I want you to have fun too! The more, the merrier, and all that."
You walk to his side in order to look at the book, all smiles and confidence in a pink apron. He stares at you in shock, scooting away as soon as your elbow makes contact with his. He feels tingles on the place, as if your touch could burn. You pay him no mind, reading carefully the list of ingredients.Â
"Alright, sounds easy enough. Let's get started, then!"
"Wait. You don't have to do this. I don't need your pity, prefect, I can handle myself just fine."
Riddle wants to slap himself as soon as the words are out of his mouth, but he couldn't let you help. He needed to this alone, that's how he's always done things. Your stare makes him want to scream in frustration. He doesn't understand it, it isn't the disappointed one his mother gave him, nor the pitiful one from his dormmates. If he looked long enough, he would have concluded it was an understanding stare, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.
"I don't pity you, Riddle. You knew what you were doing and you deserved to hear those things from Ace."
His breath hitches and he's never felt so ashamed before. It feels worse than a slap, to have the truth thrown at him like this. His actions mocking him, his own faults tightening the collar around his neck.
"Still, I can see you truly regret it. And it doesn't feel right to just leave you alone. Don't get me wrong, you're not my charity project or anything. It's just... I understand how hard it is to start again, to try to be better. And it's so much harder when you feel like no one is by your side."
Like an open book, Riddle feels you can read every line from his being, that his thoughts are yours to pick apart. Is he so obvious? He feels rooted in place, a poor fool waiting to receive his sentence at your mercy.
"You're not a bad person, Riddle. I can see that. So, let's start again, together."
Your smile looks too much like the light at the end of the tunnel, like some sort of salvation. His chest expands and contracts again as his breathing resumes, he gulps the dryness out of his throat and blinks firmly, holding the tears in. Suddenly, he doesn't feel as lost as before.
You extend your hand at him, expectantly. How could he deny that? Sparkles fly on his skin as your hands touch, the gentle feeling like nothing he's ever felt before. How did you manage to make him feel like he's floating, like everything will be alright, like there's a shock running through every single bone of his body?
"Come on, we've got a tart to do!"
"Yes. Let's do this." He can't control his facial muscles, a little smile forming on it's own.
Only after both of you had gathered all the ingredients did he remember something.
"There's just one more thing."
"Yes?" Your attention focuses solely on him, head tilted slightly and he feels at the top of the world to have you looking at him like that.
"We don't have any oyster sauce."
The cute inquisitive expression falls from your face, a carefully neutral one taking it's place, making him fidget on his spot, worried he might have done something wrong. He truly didn't want to ruin things with you, not when everything has started to feel right again.
"Why would we need any?"
"Trey has told me it's an unlisted secret ingredient that all the finest bakers use..."
He watches, mesmerized, as your expression cracks, a giggle leaving your lips, followed by another and another until you're full out laughing, eyes crinkled so hard they're almost closed, teeth exposed and chest heaving, pure joy flowing through you. It's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.
Still, he's not sure if he should feel hurt or offended that you're laughing at him. He settles on confusion, not wanting to jump into conclusions.
Once you've calmed down enough to speak again you explain, between giggles sweeter than sugar, that it was only a joke Trey had pulled on you as well.Â
The embarrassment creeps up his spine and makes his face blush, cheeks warming up. He would have been mad, had it happened a few days ago. And yet. Your happiness is contagious, making a laugh break out from him, joining the chorus with your melody.Â
It feels so silly, laughing together in the kitchen like that, but he's not lost anymore. The air is comfortable once more and it feels sweet on his tongue, it feels like home.
As the time passes, you grow on him, you make a place for yourself in his life, to the point he can't remember how he's ever lived before you.
You study together, you listen to all his explanations attentively, he answers any questions you might have, you make sure he's taking breaks. You take him on walks around the campus, hand clasped in his. You rope him into snack runs, sharing with him a piece of whatever you're having.
You give him hugs without asking anything in return, your arms open and oh so inviting, so alluring. You tousle his hair when you're feeling playful, fixing it gently when he complains. You give him a kiss on the cheek when you're proud of one of his accomplishments, loudly congratulating him.
He's never had this before. No one has been this affectionate with him, so openly and unashamed. No one has treated him like he's precious, like you do.Â
Riddle craves you. He has never desired something so fiercely before. He has never had the chance.Â
The next best thing he could compare the feeling to was to a strawberry tart. Not any strawberry tart, but Trey's parents' bakery's strawberry tart. Whenever he gazed at the window he would see it on display, the red color calling to him. His mouth salivated just thinking about how it would taste should he take a bite of it, the sweetness exploding on his tongue. Maybe he could satiate the aching whitin him, fill that empty hole and feel happy. Then, his mother's voice would play on his head, reprimanding him for even thinking of consuming that amount of sugar. He'd look away, ashamed, but the red strawberries would always pull his eyes to them again, like a magnet.
Whenever he saw you, he felt the same ache on his chest, but stronger. A yearning to see your smile, to feel your warm hands against his, taste the most delicious red from your lips. Just from having your attention on him it felt like lady bugs dancing on his stomach, making his heart accelerate, face flushing. He craves you, more than any strawberry tart in the world.
It scares him. He's never felt like this, never felt this strongly for anyone. He's still young and sorting his life out, he doesn't even know what he wants to become without his mother's overbearing demands. He's figuring himself out, getting lost in the maze of his feelings. He's always acted older than his age, always complied to his mother's desires, and now he feels younger than ever and he's scared.
Riddle wants you to like him back, desperately so. Still, he can't bear to imagine you saying you love him. The thought leaves him breathless, his chest aches and aches and aches for you and he doesn't know what he'd do without you.
Autumn passes by, with winter following closely. You stay, keeping his heart safe. You stay, and Riddle craves you more than anything in this world.
The fresh breeze of spring brings forth the scent of the flowers scattered across the garden. Riddle can hear birds singing at the distance and the sun's warmth settles pleasantly on his skin, warming up his bones. It's as if the flora has come to life, buzzing in excitement for the season.
There's nothing prettier than your smile directed at him, nothing else that could make him feel like he's lost control of his heartbeat.
Your hands are behind your back and you have a spring in your step as you stop right in front of him. You ask him to extend his hand and he does so, watching intently as one your hands takes his and brings it to your lips, tenderly pressing a feather light kiss on the back of it. His eyes are blown out, his lips drying and heart running wildly.
"These are for you."
A bouquet of flowers in red shades is given to him, your other hand making contact and holding his. A smile blooms on his face, stretching his red cheeks as a loving sigh leaves his mouth.Â
"Thank you. They are lovely."
"Just like you." You wink playfully, sticking your tongue out a bit and letting go of his hands. He has to stop himself from reaching out again, missing your warmth terribly.
Riddle clears his throat and motions at the other side of the small round table he's set up. "Please, have a seat."
You do as he says, admiring the decorations he's prepared. Between the red and white roses of the garden, the two of you share a cup of milk tea and a strawberry tart. The conversation flows naturally, telling each other how your days have been and how things are going. Riddle could listen to you all day, every story you have to share captures his interest as easily as you've captured his heart.
It's such a domestic scene, the two of you. Riddle thinks that's what love must feel like. Like a warm embrace, or like the sweetness of the tart melting on his tongue, or like your smile. Not like a red wall and a disappointed frown.
The sun sets in a hue of reds, the sunlight creating a dream like atmosphere between yourselves. The way your relaxed face reflects the colors makes Riddle feel full of affection. He's content, he realises. He wishes he could share a million other moments like this with you, a million other springs.
"It's beautiful." You comment, breathless. You're not looking at the sunset anymore, though. Your gaze is on him and only him, as if he's the most important thing in the world. "You're beautiful." Your voice is filled with sincerity and something else, something that makes his heart ache with yearning, something that makes him want to hear you say that again and again.
It feels so much like a confession.
He can't help but blush, red like his hair. He's never had this before, he's not sure how to react. So, he blurts out the first thing he thinks of, the truth slipping from his lips.
"You're beautiful too."
It feels like a promise.
You look surprised, eyebrows rising and mouth opening. He's surprised too. And then you laugh, honey dripping from the sound. You look pleased as you take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers and squeezing it gently.Â
The table is small, small enough for you to lay your elbows against it and come closer to his face, for your other hand to cup his red cheek and bring his face closer to yours. Riddle is lost in the moment, closing his eyes and tilting his head, his free hand resting against your shoulder.Â
As your lips press together, Riddle feels elated. His fingers tremble and grip harder onto you, not wanting to let you go. The kiss is slow and so tender, so sweet. He can taste the strawberries on your tongue, can feel your thumb caressing his cheek. You deepen the kiss and he lets out a whimper from deep within, a sound filled with sheer want. He lingers over this moment, wanting to commit it to memory, carve it on his soul.
You pull back, separating your lips. Riddle chases after you, wanting more, needing more. You giggle and nuzzle your noses together, such an innocent act that it feels more intimate, somehow. You've got his heart on your hands and you hold onto it with the utmost care, so much so that he can't feel himself ever regreting this. If he could, he'd like to kiss you, and only one, for the rest of his life.
"Riddle." The way you say his name is soft, not breaking the moment. "Will you be my valentine?"
He opens his eyes and traces every inch of your face, his hand moving to the back of your neck and pulling you closer. He gives you a chaste kiss, trying to satisfy his craving enough to be able to get the words out from his throat without choking on it.
"I'd love to, if you'll have me."
Your answering smile is exactly what he needs. Your lips connect again, it feels a lot like love.
Masterlist
today I got pretty busy, but! tomorrow I'll have more time to write so expect some... stuff.
Jamil is trying to figure out how the fuck someone messed up so bad that there was only one bed for the three of them, meanwhile Floyd and Ace are already on the bed cuddling. Jamil decides that the problem is already out of his control and joins the cuddle pile. The three of them get the best night's sleep that they've had in a while.
With Sebek REFUSING to take the bed and Silver somehow passed out on the TV stand, Riddle gets the bed. At some point in the night, Silver wakes up and decides to sleep next to Riddle.
Jack and Deuce get into an argument, not over them both wanting the bed, but both of them insisting that the other gets the bed and they sleep on the floor. In the end, Jack ends up getting the bed, and Deuce ends up using Jack as a bed.
Leona gets the bed and everyone else has to sleep on the floor.
They don't even talk about it, they just share the bed. Trey just doesn't care at this point and Rook is Rook, so they just share the bed and don't make a fuss about it.
Ortho honestly cares more about Vil not having the bed than Vil does. Vil is happy to share the bed with Ortho, and treats him like his own little brother. When it's time for bed, Vil makes sure that Ortho's charging cable is in securely, and tucks him in, making sure he's comfortable before entering rest mode. Vil then does his own night time routine and when he's finished, he gingerly gets in bed to sleep, careful to not disturb Ortho.
Kalim cuddles a very exhausted Cater, and they look at memes until they fall sleep. Lilia is up gaming all night.
While Idia is busy having a panic attack/mental breakdown, Azul is calmly filling up a large hydro flask with water to sleep in. Octopuses can fit into very tight spaces without discomfort, so Azul always keeps a large hydro flask on him when traveling in case something like this happens. Azul puts the open hydro flask on the bedside table and gets in. Once Idia manages to calm down, he passes out on the bed.
Malleus and Jade have a long night of mutual infodumping. Jade ends up falling asleep on Malleus and Malleus is just happy to be around someone, honestly.
THANK YOU I LIKE YOUR FANCY WORDS !!!
me creating this in my lab while I conduct a little experiment on Azul and eximine his insides closely and pick him apart !!
Summary: He had hurt you. Azul had hurt you and he wasn't sure how he could ever forgive himself, the guilt gnawing at his core. Despite that, you still smile at him.Â
Notes: reader and azul knew each other before chapter 3, gn!reader, angst and hurt/comfort, self deprecating thoughts, some mentions of blood, injury and death but none too graphic, not proof read
Azul had lost everything.
Everything he had built painstakingly for years, crawling himself from the bottom of the depths, that he exhausted himself for, that he carefully planned and gained through his hard work. Gone, just like that, floating away in the wind the same way the sand of the beach is carried away by the waves.
But, the worst of all: he lost control.Â
Control of himself, his actions and his mind. Azul couldn't remember what happened after seeing his contracts disintegrating, only that he felt more despair than ever before. Even when he was isolated and mocked by the other merman, he's never felt such helplessness, such anguish, such misery.Â
His mind was muddy, he didn't feel like he was in his body. Why would it matter, anyway? It was all gone, gone, gone.Â
He let himself drown in the feeling.
Drowning was a strange sensation. Azul, being a merman, never thought he could experience it, but Night Raven College was full of surprises. His lungs felt full, an inky substance occupying where once was air. His vision was dark, as if he had fallen into an abyss. He couldn't bring himself to care.
Azul didn't know which was worse, the hopeless feelings or the lack thereof.Â
He stayed floating into nothingness for a while. He wasn't conscious, but he was. He was there, but he wasn't. He didn't have a body, but he did. If he could manage to string a coherent thought together, it might have been something like this: "Is this what death looks like?" Perhaps if he could muster enough strenght to feel something, he might have felt regret for all the things he still had left to do.
If he looked deep into himself, deeper than he was willing to, he might have found that he regretted making you sign one of his rigged contracts and dragging you into this mess. He should have known better than understimating you, he should have known that something like this would happen. After all, you were amazing enough to catch his attention. What made him think you wouldn't be amazing enough to find a way out of his deal? What made him think Jade and Floyd would be enough to disencourage you? What made him think someone like him, so dirty and insicere, could ever dampen someone like you, so determined and bright?
He didn't think about any of it. He didn't think about anything.
The first thing Azul felt when he came back to his senses was light against his eyelids. He was back at the surface. His body ached all over but his lungs no longer bled that viscous black liquid and he felt alive once more. He was still alive.
He could smell a familiar scent, one that he was used to smelling back at the Coral Sea, so used to he didn't identify it a first. He heard shouting that seemed to be miles away and right by his ear at the same time. His slugish head couldn't distinguish what was being said by whom, but he could swear he heard your name, it's mention alone being enough to jolt eletricity back into his being and keep him awake. There were hurried footsteps getting farther away and he finally recognized what the smell was. It was the metalic smell of blood.
He tried to open his eyes but the bright lights of Mostro Lounge burned them, so he kept them tightly shut. He couldn't get up, his legs hurt more than any other part of his body. What had happened? He couldn't have... could he? The last thing he could remember happening before passing out was... oh.
Oh. He did. Azul had an overblot.
His breath hitched, but he forced himself to keep breathing in the air, to keep the blot out, out of his system and out of his lungs and out of his veins and out out out of him. He bit his tounge, clenched his fists and forced his sore eyes to open.
The contracts, they were gone. His life's work. He had made a fool of himself in front of another housewarden. He had an overblot and put everyone in danger. He had put you in danger.
Jade and Floyd were by his side. They were talking to him, but he couldn't register the words. His head was underwater, the pressure weighting him down, his ears filled with water and dripping, dripping, dripping.
He could still smell the blood. Ah, it felt just like home.
Azul looked at his lower half, almost sure in some hysterical part of his brain that he would find his tentacles there. His legs laid on the floor, clean and useless. He breathed a sigh of relief. Still, he couldn't help but wish the blood was his.
He got the gist of what the twins were saying. Leona destroyed the contracts and you had managed to adquire his childhood photo. They were mocking him for the tantrum he threw, but he could tell they were worried. There wasn't much force behind the half hearted taunts and no matter how much they tried to hide, Azul knew them just like they knew him. They were aggravated at what happened as well, no matter how much they pretended they couldn't care less.
"What would you like us to do about the photo?"Â
"I'm pretty sure we could just snatch it up with how shrimpy is now, but man, I'm not in the mood for it."
"...I don't care about the photo anymore. Tell me, what happened to the prefect?"
Jade looked at him with pity and Floyd's mood deteriorated. There was a bottomless pit of dread at his stomach, his throat felt dry all of sudden. His eyes burned, but no tears fell from them. When had his breathing become so erratic?
As soon as the twins broke the news to him, Azul tried to stand up and see you, not caring for how much his legs ached and hurt and screamed at him to stay down. Good, he thought with venom, so much loathing and disdain it left a sour feeling in his mouth, they better be hurting after what he'd done. He deserves worse.
Jade helped him balance himself on his legs and Floyd laughed at his clumsy footing, as if it was the first time the three of them set foot on land and were just learning how to walk. Azul felt like he had been stripped from his tentacles and siphon all over again. He had been stripped from his skin and from his mind, had been laid open and bare and vulnerable for all to see, had his chest teared apart and his lungs leaking onto the floor.
Once they arrived at the infirmary, Azul was almost jumped by your friends. The Heartslabyul duo and the young Savanaclaw seemed ready to plummet him to the ground, no care for his condition, if it weren't for Jade and Floyd tanking him by both sides like bodyguards. Azul was glad they didn't care, he was glad they worried so much about you. He would have let them hit him and taken the beating, there wasn't much of his pride left to salvage anyway.
The school nurse had just finished attending you and promptly went to work on his injuries. The Headmaster appeared at the infirmary right after Azul was discharged, no doubt already knowing what happened. He had never seem Crowley look as serious as he did when he asked for the three of them to accompany him to his office.Â
Azul's body was exhausted, he clearly needed to rest. Still, he agreed without a fuss, the twins following him closely from behind. He could feel Jade's gaze burning the back of his neck, but he couldn't gather enough energy to care for whatever was going on the eelmer's mind. He felt empty, almost hollow. Frighteningly so, like he was still on that void state, disconnected from his body. Was he even awake?
The talk with the Headmaster was a long and tiring one. At the end of it, Azul accepted the new terms for him to keep running Mostro Lounge at the school, gripping tightly to the only thing he had left. He couldn't lose his beloved restaurant alongside everything else, it would be too much, more than he could handle.
It was dark by the time they were excused to go back to their dorm. Azul felt and looked like a mess, not like the businessman he took pride in being. His hair was dishevelled, there were eyebags under his eyes and his mouth was set in a firm line for a while, not managing much more emoting.Â
There was a restlessness under his skin, on his muscles, deep in his bones, down onto every single cell. No matter how worn out he was, there was no way he would be able to sit back. Not until he saw you with his own eyes, saw exactly how much damage he had caused.Â
He wasn't able to muster up the courage to look the twins in the face as he told them to go ahead, that he had something to do. Luckly, they decided he had suffered enough and didn't kick up much of a fuss before leaving him alone.
The walk to the infirmary felt like a fever dream, too long and too short at the same time. Azul wondered if your friends were still there at this time, if you were awake, if he was even allowed to enter. He stayed rooted in front of the entrance, trying to gather every last bit of confidence to put up his usual serene façade.Â
He wouldn't let you see how affected he was by the whole ordeal. This wasn't supposed to be about him, he wanted to take a look at you. You, who had been nothing but friendly to him, who had caught his attention early on, who spent time with him at Mostro Lounge, who he admired so much, who wormed your way into his heart and refused to leave.
Azul was afraid you hated him now, but by the Sevens how much he wished you did. Why wouldn't you, after he tried to scam you out of your house and almost got you killed. All for his selfishness, for his stupid pride and greed. He was ready for you to scream at him, to hit him, say you never wanted to see him again. Even if the mere thought was enough for him to feel like throwing up, he knew it would be better if he stayed away from you and your light. That way, he wouldn't hurt you again, never again.
Steeling himself with the fakiest smile on his face, he pushed the door open, hands shaking.
The infirmary was quiet, no one in sight save for you. You were laying on one of the first beds, a peaceful expression on your face. You looked beautiful. You always did, to him. There were bandages all over where your skin was visible. Azul could feel the guilt choking him. How could he have the audacity to come talk to you after he was the one that did this?
He turned around and was about to leave when he heard you whisper. It was spoken so softly he wouldn't have heard at all if he wasn't hyperaware of you. "Stay."Â
Azul stayed. He could never deny anything you asked for. Especially not when you sounded so pleading, when you looked at him like that.
There was a chair next to your bed, so umconfortable looking as it must feel. But it was the best way to stay closer to you, so he sat on it, waiting for you to drop the guillotine over his head for his sins.Â
The silence was suffocating, denser than the pressure at the bottom of the ocean. He wanted you to say something, anything. His gaze was on the floor, lips pulled back, brows furrowed. If he closed his eyes, only the darkness would welcome him, swallow him whole, so he kept them stubbornly open.
"Azul." It felt like a blessing, like a drop of water after walking through the desert, like a warm embrace. Azul relished the way you said his name, the delicious entonation as your tongue rolled over every letter. He wanted to beg you to say it again and again. The only thing he does is lifting his head to look at you.
The proximity between you two was startling. He hadn't noticed how close you were, hadn't noticed you raising your hand, hadn't noticed the shine in your eye. He thought you were about to slap him, but couldn't drag his stare away from your eyes. They looked so gentle, so full of... something. He wouldn't dare try to name the emotion behind them, wouldn't dare hope.
Your hand made contact with his cheek, making him flinch lightly. There was no sting, only your warmth as you held his face. Your fingers left burning imprints where they touched, marked him from the inside out. Wide blue eyes meet your affectionate ones, so open and honest. Why were you being so gentle to him? Acting like nothing happened, like things were the same as before this whole mess occurred.Â
"I'm glad." You confess softly, a secret meant only for the two of you, thumb brushing against his cheeks as he leans into your touch and lets himself melt into it while he still can. "I'm glad you're alright, Azul."Â
"How can you say that when you're the one laying on a hospital bed?" His voice falls flat, trying to hide his emotions. But he's a cracked shell, his insides are spilling out into your palms, plain for you to pick apart and analyse as you please.
You smile, your joy is so sincere Azul can feel his eyes burn with unshead tears. How could he ever hurt someone like you? How could you still look at him without an once of hatred or disguist or fear?
"I was worried about you." You state as if it was the simplest thing in the world, because it is, to you. The sky is blue, the ocean is cold and you care about Azul. You say as if you aren't shattering his last bits of composure, as if you aren't breaking his heart into little jagged pieces.Â
"Don't say that." He manages to choke out, as if the mere words hurt his throat, voice watery and breaking. "Please, don't say that." The 'I don't deserve it' is not said out loud, but both of you can hear it.
"How can I not? It's the truth." His tears flow freely, no longer under his control as he feels the urge to sob, to beg for forgiveness, to hide and never see you again in fear of hurting you. Only you had this effect on him, only you could break his barriers and composure so easily.Â
You brush his tears away, whispering reassurances. Wasn't him supposed to be the one reassuring you? He had come to see how you were, to apologize, to let you scream at him, anything. He could take it if you hated him, he would understand, but how could your gaze still hold so much fondness in it, so much love? The guilt shatters him, pierces his heart, make his sobs louder. How cruel could your kindness be?
He had hurt you. Azul had hurt you and he wasn't sure how he could ever forgive himself, the guilt gnawing at his core. Despite that, you still smile at him.Â
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He repeats, over and over. You say you forgive him, but he keeps going until his voice is hoarse. You don't, no, you can't understand it. You did nothing wrong, you're not like him, hands stained with blood and rot. He lets his guilt out before it festers and consumes him. It isn't enough to make up to you, although it does make him feel a little bit better, to let it all out like this.
You don't lie to him. You don't say it wasn't his fault or that he wasn't in the wrong, but you don't rub it in either. Azul appreciates it, the sincerity. He knows you can hold him accountable when the time is right. For now, you comfort him. You tell him how nobody else could put such effective notes together, how determinated and hardworking he is. How his past doesn't define him and how he has greater strenghts than any magic. He drinks every word up, commiting them to memory.
As his tears seem to dry out alongside his voice, you pull him closer to yourself. He submerges himself into you, your scent, your voice, your touch. He would happily let himself drown on the sensation. You just hold him, rubbing circles on his back and lending him your shoulder.Â
It's like time has frozen over. Azul wishes it had. He could stay like this with you for hours if you'd let him, although he doesn't feel ready to admit it, be it to you or to himself.Â
Everything is not right. You're still hurt, his contracts are still gone and Azul still feels wrong, the effects of the overblot lingering underneath his skin. His reputation took a significant blow and he'll have to change the method he's always used to work at his own establishment.Â
But not all is lost, either. He can start over, the right way this time. You'll be by his side, cheering him on. There's a long road to improvement and Azul has never been one to get scared by such things. He'll put his efforts on getting back on his feet and breaking the surface of the water, as he refuses to drown.Â
The late hour weights on your tired bodies, causing you to yawn, your hold on him getting laxer. With the way his body aches, he wouldn't be able to go back to Octavinelle. In fact, he doesn't feel able to move from the chair he is in. He doesn't want to leave you from his sight, to lose your touch.Â
You ask him to keep you company, prompting him to lay his head on your lap, an umconfortable position, as he has to bend his torso to reach it, but he doesn't mind. Just having you nearby will be enough. One of your hands interlock your fingers with his and the other plays with his hair as you hum, not letting the silence engulf the room. He's beyond grateful for that, for how you just seem to know what he needs and is more than willing to give it to him. He's never been handled with such care before, like he's wanted, like he's precious. It makes his body feel warm and he basks on it.
He waits until you stop your ministrations, until your breathing evens out and it's just him alone with his thoughts. He keeps his eyes shut, as he knows that if he dared to glance at your sleeping face his heart would burst with affection, the feelings he's trying to rein in exploding from his chest.Â
Azul only has made a promise to himself once, when he was a little kid being bullied by his peers, eager to prove them wrong, to prove he could be better than their expectations. Now, he makes a new promise, to protect you and your kindness, to never let someone, least him, hurt you again, to make up for his own shortcomings and become someone you can be proud of.
He loses consciousness for the second time that day, but this time he knows he's alive. He feels it in the way his heart beats in sync with yours, the way his breaths come out from his mouth, the way your fingers are laced with his.Â
Azul is alive and swimming to the surface, as he refuses to drown.
Masterlist
You pay for your angst crimes,,LET THE OCTO BE HAPPY ðŸ˜,jahfh seriously that fic was very good and just ow keep it up 🥺!
SORRY ANON I LIKE TO MAKE AZUL SUFFER TOO MUCH ðŸ˜ðŸ˜ðŸ˜ I'm going to angst jail to pay for my crimes 😔
THANK YOU <33 I'm glad you liked it!!!
I have good news for you anon, there's one Octavinelle fic I've been working on that's fluffy so! you'll receive your happiness soon enough! the thing is I've been working on it for a while then I started 294893849384 other projects and it kinda stayed at the back of my list. but! it's a sweet idea that has a special place in my heart so I'll definetly get it posted as soon as I finish it!
OMG!!!! HI!!! WELCOME BACK!!!! :D🥳🥳🥳🥳 And like, not to make it too serious or anything lmfao, but like, please don't be too stressed about inactivity :) life is... life lmao. And sometimes you literally just don't do the stuff? And like that is literally so real. Don't even worry about it, this is supposed to be fun :))) It's really nice to see you pop up tho! :))) I really love your analysis... es? Lol? as well as your fantastic writing style. Also??? Your vibes??? So sweet, genuinely one of the nicest, comfiest blogs imo :)) Anyways, hope your having a great day!!! Pls hydrate <3
THANK YOU ANON THIS MESSAGE IS SO SWEET I HAVE THE BIGGEST SMILE ON MY FACE RIGHT NOW <333
yeah life can be pretty chaotic sometimes 😠I'm glad everyone is so understanding, you guys are the sweetest really 😠I'll try to do my best to take care of myself while I also have fun here! it makes me super happy to read that you like my silly thoughts on stuff and my writing style too, you literally just made my night much better anon 🫶 it means a lot to me!
hope you're having a great day too, take good care of yourself nonie!
"Oh, you can’t help that, we’re all mad here. I'm mad. You’re mad. You must be or you wouldn't have come here."
363 posts