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pomefioredove · 4 days

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Okay but imagine one of the guys actually win the prefect, and they just go rubbing it on the others face by making them wear their respective form uniform.

Except Kalim, he would probably just make them have a sleepover every night and paint each other nails.

ohhh see now I'm imagining all the alternate routes this could take... okay okay I'm so here for this. like half of the cast would totally make them wear the uniform just to rub it in, the other half would just be crazy about seeing them in the dorm uniform at all. I DO have some thoughts on this concept alone... and I'll make another part later yk yk

summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms. a proper ending to this type of post: short fics characters: ace, deuce, jack, epel, riddle, ruggie, azul, jamil, kalim, vil additional info: yuu is gender neutral, ruggie is cute, azul is the cutest, vil enjoyers come get your food, maybe a little ooc for some parts

If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.

Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.

"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.

"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.

You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"

Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"And our winner is..."

First Year's Ending

"Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, and Epel Felmier. Congratulations! The prefect will be ready at Ramshackle for your collection this evening. I trust you'll sort out the details..."

The four freshman look between each other, a mix of awe and shock on each of their faces.

Everyone else is staring daggers at them.

Vil is the first to speak. "How?"

"We may or may not have sweetened the deal with a few exclusive bonuses," Ace snickers, crossing his arms. Vil rolls his eyes. Deuce sighs.

"We'll be Crowley's new slaves for months after this..."

Jack grumbles from the back of the four. "Well, it was worth it. Imagine if someone underhanded and dishonest had won, and-"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever,"

The four pause, looking between each other in silence. Then, finally:

"So who will they be staying with?" Epel asks, catching Vil's attention again.

"Excellent question, Epel," the housewarden smiles, stepping back into the conversation. "We would be more than willing to accommodate the prefect at Pomefiore. Our dorm far outshines the others."

Leona growls. "I heard that. Besides, why should you be first in line? We've already housed them before, they were plenty comfortable then,"

"As I recall, you forced them into servitude as penance for staying," Riddle snaps. "Not exactly the friendliest host. I think they would be much more comfortable at Heartslabyul."

The four freshman can only watch in silence as the housewardens break out into bickering with one another about who's dorm is best.

"Soooo..." Ace starts. "Maybe we should rotate?"

Deuce sighs. "For once, you actually have a good idea,"

Riddle's Ending

"Riddle Rosehearts, congratulations! I'll alert the prefect at once," Crowley says, immediately turning and disappearing into the crowd before anything can get ugly.

It doesn't exactly come across as a surprise to anyone- Riddle closely calculated his spendings, taking into consideration Leona's overconfidence, Malleus' stranger proposal, and Kalim's over-enthusiasm.

Of course, with some additional prodding about how no other dorm is responsible enough to handle another person like Heartslabyul, Crowley finally gave in.

And now, you're sat in front of the dorm's rose gardens, suitcase in tow as you make no apparent effort to walk in.

"Thought I'd find you out here," Trey says, taking a seat in the grass next to you. "Feeling okay?"

"Nervous," you admit.

Trey chuckles, much to your annoyance. "I promise there's really nothing to be nervous about. Riddle is really quite happy you're here,"

You find that a bit surprising, though you suppose it's hard to tell when he's excited. He always has this impression of deep psychological stress on him that makes him difficult to read.

"Is he?"

"Oh, yeah. He's been running Ace and Deuce ragged getting ready. He really wants to impress you," Trey pauses with a small smile. "You'll get used to the order of things here in no time. And if you ever need any help, you've got me, Cater, Ace, Deuce... I'm sure even Riddle will take it easy on you."

You smile in return. "Thanks, I-"

"Prefect!" Riddle storms out of the front doors, looking rather well-dressed for a simple Tuesday afternoon. "You were expected four minutes ago! I've taken the liberty of finding your measurements, so your dorm uniform is already ready and inside!"

Yeah. Excited, right. You give Trey a little look (to which he only waves merrily) and start off behind the housewarden.

For a moment, as you follow him, you could swear you catch him humming and smiling. But before you can say anything about it he catches Ace messing with your dorm uniform and starts shouting.

Ruggie's Ending

"And the winner is... no... this can't be right..."

Crowley clutches the paper, bringing it close to his face. He clicks his tongue, murmuring to himself.

"Um... Ruggie Bucchi, everyone!"

The news sends a shockwave through the audience, and everyone turns to the sophomore at the back of the courtyard. The sudden shift in energy is enough to make him drop his sandwich.

"Damn it..." he grumbles, picking it off the ground and swiping the dirt off of it with his sleeve. "Still good, eh?"

"Are you deaf?" Leona glares. "You're just embarrassing yourself now, and me by association."

Ruggie raises an eyebrow. "What? Oh, the lottery-thingy? I'm pretty sure Crowley misread that. He's going senile, y'know,"

Crowley crosses his arms, begrudginly handing off the paper to Azul in the front. He adjusts his glasses.

"It says Ruggie Bucchi,"

"Then someone mistyped it! I'm telling 'ya, there's no way I managed to scrounge up enough before the deadline. I was digging between couch cushions by the end of it,"

Leona looks as if he's about to smack him upside the head. "Would you just get up there?"

"Geez, alright. But don't blame me when someone comes around with the right winner later," he says, trudging to the front of the crowd. "So what do I gotta do?"

"Erm... the prefect is waiting at Ramshackle. You'll collect them and return to Savanaclaw, where you'll be responsible for handling the details."

"Sure, whatever. Let's get to it, then,"

---

Even your surprise is palpable, though you suppose it could be a lot worse. Ruggie has been a pal before, helping you out at Sam's and convincing Leona to let you off the hook when you accidentally annoy him.

Though, he himself seems less than pleased as you step out of your new room in Savanaclaw, dressed in a slightly too-big uniform.

Leona smirks as if watching something amusing and claps, slowly. "Looking good. See, none of those other pompous outfits woulda looked half as nice on you. Nice work, Ruggie,"

Ruggie rolls his eyes and leans back against the wall. Leona excuses himself to find somewhere warm to nap, leaving you two to stare at each other.

"So... what's wrong?"

"Hm?"

"I mean," you say carefully. "You don't exactly seem excited about winning."

"Oh," Ruggie shrugs. "That's cause I didn't. Guys like me don't win anything. I'm sure someone will come to give you away to the right winner tomorrow."

The thought doesn't sit well with you- you're already here, after all, and Grim is gorging himself in the lounge, and you really-kinda-don't-mind Ruggie winning.

"Well, I hope not,"

He raises an eyebrow. "You know I can hardly afford to take care of myself, right?"

"So then we're even. Just don't make me go through all that bidding stuff again," you sigh. "Let's leave it at that."

A brief, though comfortable silence falls over the two of you, and then he grins. "Alright, then. I can live with that,"

Octotrio's Ending

"Azul Ashengrotto!"

Azul's immediate reaction is to collapse. he hadn't really realized how much stress the anticipation was causing him until suddenly his knees were buckling like he was learning to walk on land all over again.

Floyd grabs his shoulder to keep him upright and Jade joins the scattered applause.

"Don't look so pale, Azul. I'm sure this will prove to be a worthwhile investment," he says, folding his hands neatly in front of him.

A part of Azul knows that Jade isn't referring to anything financial, but he doesn't say a word about it.

"Besides," Jade goes on. "It'll be nice having another member of my club."

Both Azul and Floyd groan in unison.

---

Floyd gives you a standing ovation when you walk into the Mostro Lounge, fully dressed in the provided dorm uniform.

Azul, on the other hand, looks away entirely.

"It feels too long," you say, staring at the bottoms of your pants. You're not exactly in a place to complain, so you keep your voice meek.

"We can make the necessary adjustments," Jade says, walking into the room with a tray of tea, his all-too-knowing smile as unnerving as ever. "You look very nice, though. Wouldn't you say, Azul?"

The merman's eyes immediately turn away from Jade. "Hm?"

"Tell the prefect they look nice, Azul,"

Floyd laughs from across the room, clearly enjoying the spectacle. You tilt your head to the side like a curious puppy, not exactly sure what this banter is about. But it's not your place to pry, either.

Azul's face is beet-red. "You... look nice,"

"Thank you,"

"So are they gonna work or what? I'm tired," Floyd whines, lying on one of the couches and kicking off his shoes.

Azul grimaces. "Don't do that, that's disgusting. And I thought we should let them adjust a few days before giving them the option of working,"

"Option?" Jade's grin widens. "My, aren't you feeling generous?"

"I... assume this process has been rather jarring. I don't want any of my employees distracted or mopey. Is that right?"

You blink. "Uh... yes. This whole thing has been pretty terrible,"

Azul nods in acknowledgement as Grim tumbles in the room, wearing a brand new purple and silver-streaked bow. "Can't believe you guys had one of these 'jus lying around! I feel like a million thaumarks!"

You chuckle and scoop him into your arms. "You look very handsome. Just like Azul,"

Azul can feel his soul leaving his body and has to swiftly turn around to face the wall so you can't see him blushing. Floyd laughs.

"Oh- oh I meant the bow looks just like Azul's outfit!" you correct yourself. He pretends he didn't hear anything at all.

Jade breaks the awkward silence with a chuckle. "Ah, what fun this will be. Now, I think it's only appropriate that we give these two a proper welcome dinner. Prefect, do you care for mushrooms?"

Floyd and Azul groan in unison.

Jamil's Kalim's Ending

"Kalim al-Asim!"

Everyone could see that coming from a mile away. The disgruntled mumbles and groans of the crowd are drowned out by the cheers and claps of one sophomore, practically jumping up and down in the middle of the crowd.

"Yes! Yessss! This is going to be so much fun!"

Jamil suddenly looks exhausted.

Kalim runs to the front of the crowd, shakes Crowley's hand, steals the envelope from him, and sprints the rest of the way to Ramshackle.

Your moping is quite abruptly interrupted by a procession of loud knocks at the door, and after managing to summon your courage, you answer them.

"Wh-"

The very second the door is open, a familiar ball of energy is in your arms, squeezing you tightly.

"I wonnnn, prefect! I won!"

Your eyes widen. "You- you-"

You breathe a sigh of relief.

Out of everyone who threw their name in the hat, you couldn't get much luckier than Kalim. Financial problems? Gone. Loneliness? Blown away in the wind. Your chances of getting assassinated...? Well, let's hope Jamil is in a good mood.

Your uniforms are ready, measured to the exact inch, sitting on a set of mannequins that greet you as soon as you're inside.

Jamil is hovering behind one of them, picking at the sleeve of your school uniform for stray threads. He gives you a sideways glance, not exactly looking happy.

"My two best friends in the whole world in the same dorm!" Kalim claps. "You have to try on your dorm uniform, you'll love it! Oh, let me get you some new sheets- we have silk!"

He bounds off down the hall, leaving you alone in the lounge. The silence is thick and uncomfortable.

"Yeah, I'm outta here," Grim says, walking off in the opposite direction.

"Grim!" You whisper-shout.

"It's a preventative measure! No cracker-dry mouth for me!" and with that, he's gone.

Jamil smirks slightly, turning his attention back to sorting the uniforms. "You should get changed while you still can. I have a feeling Kalim will be attached to your side for the rest of the evening,"

You're pleasantly surprised to see how well the dorm uniform fits you, and your return to the lounge is accompanied with a little smile. The fabric is light and breezy, perfect for the dorm's usual weather- you could certainly get used to the perpetual summer.

"Fits well, I presume?" Jamil asks. "You certainly seem to be in high spirits."

"It could be worse,"

"Much worse," he agrees.

A silence falls over the two of you. Eventually, he sighs to himself, watching you out of the corner of his eyes.

"If you ever need a break from Kalim," Jamil says tentatively. "I could certainly find a way to distract him. Just so you know."

You understand the nature of his offer immediately, and though you know it's wrong, you don't exactly say no.

"...Thank you, Jamil,"

Vil's Ending

"Vil Schoenheit! Thank the sevens..."

Though he walks to Ramshackle to collect his prize with a sense of ease, Vil admits that there was a brief moment where he felt anxious about not winning.

Standing in that crowd, surrounded by royalty and nobles, his chances were higher than most but certainly not assured. The very thought of you being stuck with someone other than him was enough to send a shiver up his spine.

After all, how many people on this campus would you feel comfortable with taking your measurements? None, none but him.

"Hold still," he says for the millionth time. "I'm almost done."

Vil insisted on taking your measurements himself, and you had no qualms about that. After all, things could be worse.

"There. I'll have these sent out right away. Pomefiore has many students of your size, so it's likely we'll have a spare uniform for you. That is, until I can have one custom-made,"

"You really don't have to..."

He raises an eyebrow. "Of course I do. You're a Pomefiore student now, I expect you to present yourself like one,"

A knock at the door pulls your attention away from him, though it's Vil who answers it.

He returns to you, dorm uniform in arm.

"That was fast," you say, accepting the bundle of clothes.

"Punctuality is important. Now, get changed, I want to see what I'll have to adjust for you,"

Waiting for your return is almost as nerve-wrecking as it was waiting for Crowley to call out his name. Vil can't be sure why exactly you're making him so nervous now, but it's all he can do to keep from showing it.

The dorm uniform- which you've dawned before- is just as comfortable as you remember. Warm, but not suffocating, soft but durable.

Vil stares at you for a short while before saying anything, simply drinking in your presence.

"Come here. I need to have a look,"

You inch forward, standing in front of him as he turns around you in circle, inspecting every inch. "Well, it fits much better than your last,"

He pauses, stopping in front of you. You look down at your feet, feeling as nervous under his analytical gaze as ever.

Vil chuckles, cupping your chin and tilting your head up to meet his eyes. "You look wonderful. I'll have to help with your confidence, though,"

Good Ending

"And our winner is... M-"

"Crowley!" a loud voice resonates from the very back of the crowd. The sound of hurried footsteps follow it as Trein and Crewel show up on scene.

"We're... we're kind of in the middle of something-"

"You are absolutely not. I cannot believe I had to find out about your little scheme from Trappola and Spade, of all pups," Crewel grimaces. "Are you well?"

"Well I- I-"

"Called it," Ruggie grins. "Totally senile."

Leona rolls his eyes. "Oi! Just read the damn paper!"

"Absolutely not. This is a highly immoral and borderline illegal offense," Trein crosses his arms. "You will all be refunded promptly. Now return to your studies!"

The crowd slowly dissipates, murmuring amongst themselves. Crowley remains in front of the well at the front of the courtyard, kicking the ground with his hands behind his back, like a child being scolded.

Both Trein and Crewel glare. "If you were having such issues with the prefect's expenses, you could have asked,"

"In what universe is giving them away to teenage boys a sound idea?" Trein grimaces. "I can overlook many of the things you do, but this is far too much."

"But-"

"That's enough," Crewel snaps his pointer against his palm. "If the prefect is causing you such troubles, we'll be glad to take them off your hands. In fact, I've already had the necessary legal papers drawn. I've always wanted a pup of my own, you know."

---

A gentle knock at the door rouses you from your melancholy and after some lengthy pestering from Grim, you finally go to answer it.

Outside is none other than Ace and Deuce, looking rather somber.

"No- don't tell me," you say. "I don't even want to hear it."

Deuce sighs. "It's not that. The whole thing got canceled,"

"No- wait, canceled?"

"Someone got caught with their hand in the cookie jar," Ace snickers, but quickly clears his throat after Deuce gives him a sharp glare. "Crowley's negotiated a different solution to the problem."

Deuce nods. "Hypothetically... how do you feel about being adopted?"

#I enjoyed writing this. thank you anon <3 #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #epel felmier x reader #jack howl x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader

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yzzart · 4 months

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hii love!! i'm new to your work but i've fallen deeply in love with your writing and your way of writing Tom 😭😭 i absolutely love the actress!au stories so i thought about one myself: where tom and reader are already in a established, public relationship; and they attend a gala or some kind of event together, and maybe one of them had to host or talk in front of the guests and they keep mentioning and talking about each other. and the fans are going crazy after that interaction 💘 thank youuu

"A peculiar moment."

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.

summary: at an event and being the host, Tom interviews the first person of the night, you.

word count: 1.452!

“You look so beautiful, Y/n!”

A mix of voices asking, clamoring for photos, autographs or at least a four-second attention exclaimed in your ears and of course, echoed throughout the environment. — Also, accompanied by several flashes, one stronger than the other, from cameras; it bothered you a little, but nothing too profound.

After all, besides being used to it, this had already become a routine for you.

Walking, carefully and holding a small part of your dress so you don't trip in your steps, to a large one that separated the fans from a part of the carpet, you are greeted by more screams, compliments and smiles. — Along with several photos of you, posters for "The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes" and other films that featured you, and some notebooks looking for her autograph. — Doing your best, you tried, completely, to pay attention to everyone.

There came a time when you needed to draw on a fan's arm, because she warned you that she was going to get a tattoo; a completely surprising request for you. — There were a lot of people, so paying attention to all of them was a very difficult job, but you did your best to welcome and talk to them. — Also, thanking everyone for the support and so much love.

After a specific period of time, which was a little long, preparations for future brief interviews had already begun, along with the photo sessions; the cameras were already recording and capturing everything that passed in front of their lenses. — A good number of the interviewers were already organized, talking and interviewing some people and some were talking to the event employees.

The environment was magnificently exquisite and dazzling; flowers of different colors, but most of them reddish in pigmentation, possibly intended to match the red carpet and the charming decorations that were present. — Everything was impeccable. — And the lights, lighting matching the color palettes.

Continuing to walk along the carpet, and being careful with your steps in your dress, you greet the photographers, quickly answering questions about your well-being and requesting attention for their respective cameras. — While posing, smiling, in a gratifying way, you looked for a certain person who was scheduled to be present at the event.

Perhaps, it could be considered a little rude as your eyes were roaming, freely and lightly, across the large hallway as the flashes captured your every movement. — Well, just maybe. — But your chest was anxious, more than usual, during your silent and barely disguised search.

"Here, Y/n!" — An unknown voice passed through your ears, removing your thoughts from your attention and consideration, and the owner of the request waved holding his camera; trying to attract your focus and succeeding. — "That!" — His small smile of gratitude became visible.

Even though he directed a smile accompanied by a pose for the camera, fulfilling the photographer's request, your eyes remained on his objective, but in a discreet and not so flashy way. — In each flash, you moved your eyes to the side and observed person by person. — Until, instantly, your eye sockets collided with the image of a familiar person. — He turned around quickly, and finally his eyes met yours.

Holding a microphone, which had a marking saying "host", and standing next to the camera that was in front of him, Tom watched your photo session with a proud smile. — The recording, which was live, did not focus on his entire smile, just a part of it. — He wasn't just watching, he was admiring, contemplating you; he always did it and could never get tired of it.

Tom received an exclusive invitation, considered splendid by you, to host the event; a large and responsible role and mission, too. — It was a great emotion, at the same time you received it, your boyfriend immediately told you; and, of course, you were the first to know about it. — Therefore, one of his fundamentalist roles included interviewing the guests.

Blyth was nervous, that was obvious, but also confident; perhaps, due to the fact that you would be the first person he would interview that night.

Your genuine, radiant smile went through the photos and stood out among them, making them all magnificent, and already being planned to be posted. — And the photographers were more than satisfied. — Before leaving and heading towards the interview point, you moved your head towards some cameras and said goodbye to them.

The small point, which resembled a small stage, where the host's interviews began was not far from where you were; Just a few steps and you could walk without any problems or worries about your dress. — Something you were grateful for, mentally.

It was only when you were going up, on one of the steps of the small stage, that you needed a little help. — Your boyfriend offered his hand towards you, which you quickly accepted, and carefully directed you onto the platform. — And yet another camera focused on you, now, broadcasting everything live.

"Look who we have here." — Remembering the microphone in his hands, Tom brought it to her mouth, at an appropriate distance. — "Good night, y/n!" — He tilted his head, with an inviting smile paying attention to the sparkle in his eyes while directing the microphone towards you.

"Good night, Tom!" — You answered. — "How are you, darling?" —Imitating your gesture, your head is tilted, delicately awaiting his answer.

"Better now and you?" — Tom raised his eyebrows, uttering a answer that was perhaps bold but sincere; and there was no trace of concern, even in front of the cameras.

"I can say the same." — Your eyes roamed to a small point that cried out for your attention, the necklace he wore; the one where your initial was carved. — It was the third time Tom had worn it in public; an action that enchanted you. — "I can actually say the same."

"On a night as beautiful as this, did you come with someone?" — He decided to play, relax with you, acting as if your relationship wasn't public; you laughed, understanding what it was about.

"Oh, unfortunately not!" — Your ears heard a brief laugh from the people working behind the cameras. — "However, i met a guy, by pure coincidence, who has your name and looked like you, but i lost track of him." — Anyone would be impressed by how quickly you created that story, Tom thought it was funny. — "He's an incredible man, in fact, a special man to me."

"From your words, i can see that." — Your boyfriend didn't seem embarrassed at all, he was appreciating your words, even though they were short and also coming from a small joke; Tom had forgotten where he was, in fact. — "I know him?" — You turned your eyes upward, pretending to be thoughtful.

"I don't think so, but it should." — A corner of your lower lips were nibbled by your teeth. — "I feel like he's definitely a charming man in my life." — You shook your head, confirming your words, losing the meaning of the little joke. — "The only downside is that i lost track of him."

"I'm sure you'll find him soon, my dear." — Blyth assured with a beautiful smile on her beautiful face, which was probably accompanied by a reddish tone on her cheeks. — "You're perfect, my love." — In just a few seconds, the joke was put aside; Tom couldn't resist, much less you. — "Always is."

"Just like you, dear." — You approached of the oldest, subtly placing your hand on his arm and placing a kiss on his cheek; it was a little slow, but not so slow as to complain, and Tom would never dare make a complaint. — "See you soon?" — You referred to the end of the interviews.

"Of course, love." — He replied holding your hand; noticing the only ring on your finger, the one he gifted you. — "It looks like someone is going to be reunited with a certain companion." — Tom commented, looking briefly at the camera with one eyebrow raised and helping you get down from the small platform.

Tom admired and followed your steps with his eyes, contemplating your sweet smile when greeting people; If he had the chance, he would spend his entire time watching you. — And even forgetting that it was being recorded and broadcast to thousands of people.

Now, it seemed that there was a mark, so soft and delicate, of a kiss with lipstick present on his cheek, it was not very visible, only if it came very close to his face. — The camera managed to capture and notice the small mark, bringing it into focus.

And your fans brought immense focus to the point of commenting about it on twitter, causing an insane moment for them.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus #snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas

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opalai-pixel-witch · 2 months

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I’ve been afflicted with the [REDACTED] disease

#self shipping #romantic f/o #[redacted]#trivia murder party #jackbox #tmp host #rom: i'm your crazy host (redacted)#digital art #should probably come up with a better art tag

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bluesidez · 1 month

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The Love Lab presents:

Boyfriend is to Husband

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!Reader

summary: How would Miguel react if you did the “calling my bf my husband” trend? 🤔

content warning: It gets a little suggestive, but other than that, it’s fluff fluff fluff. There are short mentions of food, but nothing too crazy. The Miguel in here is also not Spiderman. Just a little guy.

credit for art and dividers: Me! and @kimjiho1 (plus another person for the gif divider, if this is yours, lmk!)

a/n: This will be apart of a series called The Trendy Couple! This is the first installment ☝🏾😌. I’m not sure how long the series will be, but right now it’s just based off of cute couple's trends. My fyp has suffered trying to do research for this…

word count: 2.2k

I use the word "buggy" in here. Buggy = shopping cart or trolley. I'm southern so buggy just rolls off the tongue. ❤︎ Plus, it sounds cute!

You and Miguel have been out since 8 am running errands and grabbing supplies to fill up the new apartment.

After a year of your dresser being full of his sweatpants and hoodies and his furniture hosting several of your blankets, his fridge being stocked of your favorite fruits and your shower caddy holding his body care, you both decided it was best to live together.

Towel sets, bed sheets, comforters, silverware, curtains. This was only the tip of what you and Miguel had managed to stuff inside the car.

After hitting five shops just that morning, you opted to stay in the car while Miguel went and handled a pickup order from the hardware store. It was getting closer to lunchtime and you didn’t want to become irritable because of the long lines.

To pass the time, you decided to scroll on TikTok, watching video after video, reacting to each accordingly.

First, it was chatty kitties begging for food. Then, it was edits of hot wrestlers. Next, it was ramen recipes to cook at 2am. There were even a couple of NPC lives even though the trend was nearly dying at this point.

Finally, you scrolled to a video hosting a girl and her boyfriend huddled together in a car over the console.

She’s leaned up against him, her smile beaming, “Today I’m going to be guessing my husband’s favorite things!”

“I’m not your husband,” are the words that shoot from her boyfriend’s mouth, fast as lightning. Cold. Unkind. Callous.

You watch as the girl’s smile drops and the video cuts, her laughing out of shock beforehand, evidence of her trying to stamp out her embarrassment.

You watch more as his grin widens and she gives him this awkward glance.

“Not yet,” he adds, seeing how quiet she was.

The video ends with her jumping at him playfully, trying to play the situation of.

“Jesus,” you sigh, mouth turned sideways as you pause the video and open up the comments. Thousands of people were telling her to dump him, others questioning why he would say what he said in the way that he did.

Your heart went out to the girl who clearly wanted to do a harmless joke that completely backfired.

You liked a comment about this being a possible red flag. Although he could have responded that way because he wasn’t ready for marriage, his response was so quick and distant that it was like he was disgusted at the possibility of being with her that long.

After working yourself up by scrolling through the comments, you decide to go even further by pressing the “calling my boyfriend ‘husband’” search at the top.

There were so many stitches to the original video with people giving their own thoughts about the situation. Some people were proclaimed dating coaches, others psychologists, and a few influencers.

You even see a follow up video from the original couple with the guy giving a shitty excuse as to why he was so quick in his response.

“Yeah right,” you mumble, watching the girl snicker at her boyfriend’s pouts. You agree with the comments that his response makes the original video even worse.

Still scrolling down, you find another video featuring a new couple.

They’re at a table eating donut holes out of a hat, and when the girl calls her boyfriend “husband”, the guy’s entire body lights up. He’s grinning, cheeks rosy, and can’t stop staring back at his girlfriend.

From there, you were able to see countless other couples with cute videos, all of the guys radiating at the word “husband.”

Biting your lip, you wondered how Miguel would react if you called him your husband.

You loved him with all of your heart and you were sure that he loved you. You guys are literally moving into an apartment together. But the thought of him being unsettled by you calling him your husband weighed on you.

Just as you were deep in your thoughts, you heard a knock near the trunk of the car startling you. Looking up in the rearview mirror, you see Miguel standing with a few bags and wood planks in his hands. You reach over and press a button to pop open the trunk.

“Got everything?” you ask, turning to watch as he drops items in the back.

“Yeah, I think so. Although there was almost a brawl over some potted plants,” he said. “Some older lady just came up to this guy and snatched his monsteras.”

“What?” you respond, watching as he closed the trunk and walked around to the driver's seat. “Out of his hands or the buggy?”

Miguel laughed, both recalling the scene and finding your terms adorable. “She just came up and snatched it out of the cart while he was waiting at the end of the line. She swore that she saw it first.”

You listened to him retell the story, hand under your chin as you leaned closer. He was cute, lilt in his voice to make an impression of the plant thief. Thinking to yourself that you liked this little moment of playfulness, you take your phone out to record.

Placing your phone in a case attached to the dashboard, you smile at the camera while Miguel’s still going.

“‘You youngins think the world owes you everything, and that’s just not the case!’ And the poor guy is standing there going ‘ma’am, I just want my plant back.’ He looked so distressed.”

“I would be too! A random lady just shopped from my buggy. It’s like, why are you this close to me to see what I’m trying to buy?”

Miguel turns the car on and buckles up. “It started to escalate when the lady’s friend came over. Then there were two shrill voices fussing at this guy.”

He started to back the car out of the parking spot, hand behind your seat and head turned towards the back window.

You slowly glanced at his arm, eyes tracing a vein up his shirt.

Too bad you were in a car right now or else you’d let his arm wrap around you elsewhere.

You tune back into his words, silently scolding yourself for letting something so simple get you to fold.

“Luckily, I was able to calm them both down. All it took was me showing them some dasheen leaves,” he said, driving the car closer to the exit of the parking lot.

You came to a conclusion. There was no better time than the present.

“Aw, look at my husband. Saving the day with his genius,” you say, hand reaching out to pat his chest.

Then you feel your body jerk to the right. The seat belt tightens as the car jerkingly swerves in between two parking spaces.

You stare in a panic at Miguel who puts the car in park and turns his entire body towards you.

“What did you just call me?” he asks, eyes searching yours, a little startled but mostly hopeful.

You decide to keep the charades going, “I was just praising my husband for stopping the creation of another Karen video. Why did you turn the car like that?” You’re still looking at him as if he has two heads.

“You just-!” Miguel takes your hands into his and places his forehead on his fists. “Baby, you know what you just said.”

You laugh, a little giddy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Miguel leans back against his seat and closes his eyes, reaching down to take his seatbelt off. His eyebrows scrunch up as he brings your hand to his chest, “Feel my heartbeat.”

Your mouth drops as you feel his heart rattling against his chest. He really wasn’t being dramatic.

“Baby look at me,” you grab his hands and hold them tight. “You did a good job today.”

His breath stopped, as he looked at you. His face was tinted from the whole fiasco.

“Husband.”

Miguel’s entire body slumped as he grinned wide. He nearly jumped over the console to sag his body onto yours.

His shoulders were shaking and you heard his laugh muffled by your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him and make a face at the camera.

“What’s up, Mig?” you say, trying to get him to talk.

He mumbled into your clothes, shoulders still shaking.

“I can’t hear you, you gotta sit up.”

He sits up and sniffles, turning his head toward the backseat.

Looking at his profile you can see a few streaks down his face.

“Are you crying?” you ask, turning his face towards yours.

Miguel swipes his wrist across his cheeks, “Stop, this is extremely embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not! I promise it’s not,” you say, rubbing your thumb across his ear. “Talk to me.”

He chuckled, eyes looking down, “It just feels really good to know that you think of me that way. We don’t have to ever cross that line, but one day, if you would like, we can make that title true.”

“Is this a pre-proposal?” you ask, heartbeat in your ears. You went out on a limb to follow a trend, not knowing how it would end. Now you’re staring at Miguel’s flushed face with his heart pouring out into your lap.

“Maybe,” he whispered, grabbing your hands. “Possibly a promise for what could be.”

You bite your lip to hold back a grin, “Can I know what could be right now?”

“And expose my plans? Not a chance,” Miguel smirked. “Besides, a husband knows what’s best for his partner, right?”

“He does,” you quip, rubbing your hand in a circle on his chest. “He also apparently forgets that SUVs can flip very easily.”

“Lo siento, mi amor,” he says, looking sheepishly at the placement of the car. “Did I startle you?”

You just giggle at his concern and give him a quick peck on the mouth. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that big of a reaction.”

“How would you react if I casually called you forever mine? While driving!”

“Go 90 in a 70,” you joke. “Maybe pull over and do a little more than make out.” You rub your hand down his chest, and squeeze playfully at his pec.

Miguel stared back at you, body instantly reacting to the shift in conversation. “We can actually do that right now.”

He leaned forward and brought your lips to his. You could taste the mint from the gum he had earlier, humming when he pushed further into your mouth.

He started to reach for your hips, ready to pull you over onto his lap.

Your stomach let out a loud grumble, making you jump.

“Ok, let’s try this again after we get you some food,” Miguel says, plastering kisses on your face.

The day moves on smoothly with Miguel not letting you out of his sight, hands itching to hold you in some way.

He also never lets the husband thing go.

As you’re ordering lunch, “One lemonade for my baby. And a water with lemon for me, the husband.”

As you stop in a clothing store at the mall for a small break, “These say boyfriend jeans. Do they have any husband jeans?”

As you’re trying to reach the top shelf to grab the last of your favorite detergent, “No, cariño. Let your husband get it for you.”

As you’re looking for throw pillows and towel sets for the apartment, “You think they have a couple’s set? I want something that says ‘Mr.’ on it.”

As you stop at a gift store, looking for something extra to give to the movers, “Look, this shirt says it’s made of ‘hubby material.’ Should I get it?”

This feeling is only amplified when you post his initial reaction online. The comments were full of people yearning to be in your predicament.

“If my boyfriend doesn’t crash the car when I call him husband, THROW HIM AWAY. 😒”

“Does he have a brother….asking for a friend”

“I needed this after the “I’m not your husband” he in LOVE”

“If your bf doesn’t cry at the thought of you, what are you doing”

“He was blushing HARRRRD 😭😭😭”

“So when’s the wedding? 🤨”

“He was literally cheesing and crying omg”

“Get you a man that stops the car to declare his love”

“What if I did a five mile marathon on i-55”

“He’s so in love with you that it’s palpable”

“He was ready do a lot more than make out 😭”

Miguel saw most things, a little embarrassed but mostly happy that so many people found him to be genuine.

You laid on his shoulder as he checked the comments, liking the funny ones as they passed by.

“Do you want to make a response video?” you say, liking a comment going ‘he’s a good man, Savannah.’

“No, I think this is enough,” he replies, handing the phone back to you. “Let me keep a little mystery. At least until I actually propose, of course.”

You looked at him with stars in your eyes.

“A mysterious husband. I kind of like the sound of that,” you say, wrapping your body around his side. “Maybe I can be nosy, find out his secrets.”

“I bet you would, cariño,” he voiced, nuzzling his chin on top of your head. “After, everything is planned and done.”

You laughed and snuggled closer, happy to be with him.

Once again, I hope you enjoyed reading! ❣️

Any likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and welcomed.

I'm excited for the future of this series and I hope you guys are too. When I finish the series masterlist, I'll link it here. If you guys have any trends that you want me to include, then just let me know and I'll see what I can do!

- Lauro ♡

#love lab fics 🧫#husband jeans 👖#The Trendy Couple 💟#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x gn!reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara fluff #spider man 2099 #nerdy?miguel idk #soft miggy 🥺#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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malevessel · 1 month

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Paul, may I know what's wrong with you? You've been acting strange all day, and mom and dad are worried, and honestly so am I. And stop posing like that in the mirror for once

Sorry little brother, these biceps need to show off. Also, it doesn't seem to me that I'm acting differently, I'm the same Paul as always.

You're kidding? Paul, you've been showing off your muscles all day, you touched the waitress's ass in the cafeteria this morning and then you fucked her in the bathroom. I have to remind you that by doing that you have also cheated on Alice.

What can I say, it's a shame not to show off these muscles, you should too, after all your body is like this. And about Alice, well, I don't think I'm a one-woman man if you know what I mean.

(Paul pulls out a cigarette from who knows where and starts smoking.)

Dude, are you smoking? For God's sake, it's clear that you've gone crazy.

Relax, bruh. It's just a cigarette. Come with me to the mall, I have to do some shopping......

--------------------------------------------------

Man, I'm telling you right away that cutting your hair was a bad idea, mom and dad will be mad, and besides that kind of haircut doesn't suit you, you look like a different person. And it doesn't help that you buy the tightest thing you can find in the store.

Come on man, it's just a little style change. But if you're going to keep touching my balls, you can go home.

Come on Paul, don't be like that, this is just so weird.

............

Paul could do nothing but scream in the back of his mind, not strong enough to fight off his invader, an escaped criminal looking for a place to hide. For him it was a stroke of luck to find Paul's bedroom window open that night, and even luckier when Paul's body was too tired from training to fight the possession. Of course this was a hiding place

Second part

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sonic-fankid-showdown · 11 days

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Welcome to the Sonic Fankid Showdown!!!

Where we make babies beat each other up with sticks!!!

This is the tournament we fanchild enjoyers have been waiting for! Sonic fankids put against each other to see who can beat the rest and get the victory!! All for FUN!!! Meaning that the only ones that will be fighting are the fictional characters that participate in the tournament (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

Hosted by yours truly, @head---ache

RULES:

One character per person. This means that if you have twins, sadly you'll have to separate them 😔 The ONLY exception allowed to this rule is if your character has any pet, chao, wisp, etc. If that's the case then you can submit them as one.

Fankids derived from PRO-SHIPS are NOT be allowed to participate (this includes incest, inappropiate age gaps, etc). I'll be deciding what's appropiate or not (with the help of some people I trust), so what's already decided will NOT be discussed any longer.

Ship discourse is NOT allowed.

The last rule also means that the ONLY propaganda allowed is about the CHARACTER, and not the pairing they're inspired by. I do NOT want to see ANYONE fighting about ships.

Oc x Canon kids are allowed!! Go crazy with it people!!!

Any hate towards the characters and/or creators will NOT be allowed. If I see ANYONE sending hate I will block them! And if it's someone participating then their character will be disqualified. I want this to be a safe space, so be nice, everyone!!

I will be accepting submissions until May 18th.

The limit of submissions is 60, however the number of participants will depend on the number of submissions I actually get (it HAS to be an even number, so I'm sorry if anyone gets left out for that reason).

TO ENTER:

Name of the character.

Ship they come from (if oc x canon then put '[canon character] x oc').

Short introduction to your kid.

Photo (transparent PNG is prefered).

Creator's URL (for proper crediting).

Now that you've read everything above and you think your kid has what's needed to win (or you just want to join for the funsies, that's also valid) here's the form you need to fill to participate!!! (We already reached the limit!!)

Good luck and have fun everyone!!!

#sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic oc #sonic original character #sonic fankid #sonic fanchild #sonic fancharacter #Sonic Fankid Showdown

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edenesth · 4 months

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The Duke's Weakness

Pairing: duke!Yunho x dancer!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

ATEEZ Masterlist

"May I have the pleasure of this dance, my lady?"

Your eyes widened when you turned around to see none other than Duke Jung Yunho, the second most eligible bachelor in Wonderland after the recently engaged crown prince.

In surprise, you quickly curtsied and replied, "But sire, you mustn't. I'm no lady—"

It was against the rules for you to dance with any lords or noblemen at the ball. After all, you were simply a hired dancer meant to entertain at such grand events.

Yunho, undeterred, smiled cheekily as he extended his hand, waiting patiently, "Not a lady, you say? You do possess the anatomy of one, though, don't you?"

Blushing, you stammered, "W-well, of course, I do, my lord. But that's not what I meant—"

Amused by your flustered response, the duke gestured towards his outstretched hand, "Then please, my lady, I wish to dance with you. Unless you refuse, I will respect your decision."

In a panicked state, you shook your head and quickly placed your hand in his, "N-no! It would be an honour, my lord."

You couldn't ignore the watchful gazes fixed upon the two of you as Yunho gracefully led you into his embrace, twirling you around the grand hall. Sensing the scrutiny, you squirmed slightly, acutely aware of the potential controversy surrounding a man of his status dancing with a peasant like yourself.

"Hey, look at me. Only me. Don't mind them; none of these people matter as long as I'm here," His reassuring words made your heart skip a beat, and you responded with a breathless, "Yes, my lord."

His words had a magical effect, diverting your attention from the envious glares of women and the judgemental stares of men.

As you locked eyes with his gentle gaze, you wondered why people labelled him as the strict and cold-hearted Duke. Yunho inherited his father's title at a young age, and he hasn't been the same ever since. Ruling with an iron fist, he defied societal expectations by refusing to marry despite the persistent stream of candidates presented to him each year.

His reputation preceded him, and your knowledge of him was limited to what most people knew. You've encountered him multiple times at events, you as the performer and him as a distinguished guest.

Tonight, however, he played the role of the ball's host, an attempt orchestrated by his mother to find him a suitable bride. But he remained steadfast in his defiance, his attention solely fixed on his favourite dancer who had captured his interest at every ball and ceremony—you.

In truth, Yunho's struggle with his identity began in earnest after his father's passing, burdening him with responsibilities far too heavy for a child. Forced into the role of a duke, he became little more than a puppet, dutifully following his mother's directives.

Beneath his seemingly detached exterior simmered a reservoir of anger, a lamentation for the childhood he had lost. Deprived of a voice in his younger years, his subsequent decisions reflected a rebellion against his constrained past, resulting in a ruling style that was borderline tyrannical.

For the longest time, he had lost hope and found it difficult to see the beauty in life. But everything changed when he first laid eyes on you. Beyond your physical beauty, the genuine joy radiating from your eyes as you indulged in your passion for dancing captivated him. He saw something ethereal and was determined to shield the childlike innocence that still sparkled in your gaze from potential harm.

Contrary to popular belief, the duke had a weakness that surfaced consistently in the presence of a mere dancer at every event. Tired of his mother's incessant prodding, he had decided to marry as she wished. But he had a very different plan in mind: he would not be choosing from the noblewomen invited to the ball.

Unable to contain the questions swirling in your mind, you mustered the courage to speak, "My lord, if I may ask a question," He nodded, "Please, just Yunho will do."

Your eyes widened at the informality, "But, my lord—" The duke gently silenced you with a finger pressed to your lips, "No 'buts.' Now, ask away."

Taking a deep breath, you cleared your throat before voicing your inquiry, "Y-Yunho, sire, you must be aware that I'm not a noblewoman of any sort, yes? Why would you want to dance with someone as humble as myself? Wouldn't this affect your reputation?"

He flashed a mischievous grin, tightening his hold on your waist and pulling you closer, your foreheads now touching, "My lady, I won't allow you to belittle yourself like that. Let it be known that I've been admiring you since your very first performance."

Your cheeks flushed at the realisation that he had been watching you from the start, "And now, I find myself admiring you even more for the genuine concern about my reputation. I could use a wife like you."

The final sentence nearly caused your heart to stop, halting your feet and leaving the two of you at the centre of the dance floor, all eyes focused on you, "This isn't funny, Yunho. You shouldn't joke about such matters—"

His hand gently cupped your cheek, interrupting your protest, "I am not joking, my lady. If I were to propose right now, would you agree to be my bride?" Despite your initial disbelief, the vulnerability and sincerity in his eyes persuaded you that he was indeed serious.

Anxiety etched his features as you remained silent; his thumb soothingly stroked your cheek, "I know you're scared and confused, but I swear on my life, I will make you happy. So, tell me, my dear, would you be mine?" Unable to trust your voice, you simply nodded, prompting an instant, wide smile to grace his face.

At that moment, he caught the familiar sound of his mother's approaching footsteps, storming over to intervene, "Yunho, my son—" With a sly smirk, he gracefully dropped to one knee in front of you, drawing gasps from the surrounding onlookers, "My lady, would you allow this duke the honour of being your husband?"

This dramatic gesture served a dual purpose: demanding respect for you as his chosen one and signalling his defiance to his mother and everyone else present.

Feeling the intensity of the penetrating glares, you hesitated momentarily, but the gentle squeeze of your hand reassured you. With a firm nod, you affirmed, "Yes, my lord. I'd be delighted to have you."

Without hesitation, he swiftly pulled you into his arms, his words a whispered promise in your ear, "I'm well aware that my reputation may not be the best, but I will be good to you, my duchess. You have my word." Your heart melted at the sincerity behind those words, and he sealed the deal with a kiss on your lips.

By the end of the night, you would come to realise that your trust in him was well-founded. In only a brief span, this man has shown you more respect than anyone ever had throughout your entire life.

It became abundantly clear that any woman thinking they stood a chance with Yunho was sorely mistaken, for the duke only has eyes for you—his one and only weakness.

Y'all, Wooyoung was initially meant to be the duke. But the more I looked at that photo of Yunho, it was almost like he was telling me this role belonged to him lmao.

Thank you for reading and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #jung yunho #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #yunho x you #yunho x reader #ateez fic #yunho drabble #ateez drabbles #ateez imagines #yunho imagines

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cryptidghostgirl · 3 months

Text

Make You Wish Chapter Four -- Vox

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: I don't think there are any for this chapter? Correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 1,225

Previous Part: Chapter Three -- A Reunion

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Make You Wish Master List

A/N I wasn't planning on posting this until tomorrow, but it seems to have some rather excited fans so here is chapter four (and the fourth thing I'm publishing today. We're very done for the day. I am tried and have actual work to do.) Also guys, I'm screaming. I accidentally deleted the whole things right before I was gonna post it. Thankfully I had a draft from when it was almost done save but like, god that sucked.

On the screen was Vox, seated behind a desk.

"Top of the hour and we're discussing a certain has-been how has been spotted cavorting around town after a seven year absence." Vox was saying, a poorly drawn image of Alastor displayed on the screen to his left.

Y/n saw Alastor's ear twitch with irritation.

"Yeah." she sighed, folding her arms across her chest, "Vox has gone kinda crazy since you left. I told you, things got tough."

"Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? More on tonight's program." Vox said through the TV, shuffling a stack of papers.

Alastor changed the channel with another flick of his finger.

"Hun, don't worry yourself with it." Y/n advised, "He's still gonna be there tomorrow."

The new channel showed a talk-show set up, Vox-2-Nite, where Vox was both host and guest.

"So, the old Radio Demon is back in town." host Vox was saying to himself as guest.

"Why is he hanging around?" guest Vox asked, taking a sip from a mug that had 'fuck Alastor' written on the side.

"Al." Y/n warned, sensing her friends irritation growing.

"What does that mean for your family?" Host Vox asked before Alastor changed the channel again.

Vox was on the screen again, before a bright red curtain.

"Well, handily, I've got good news." he was saying theatrically, "He's a loser, a fossil, and I don't mean to sound hostel-"

Alastor changed the channel again. This time to one of Vox's mega church broadcasts. Vox stood in the center of the screen wearing a pope's hat with an inverted cross on it.

"But the demon is a coward!" he announced, his words matching the previous channels sentiments perfectly.

"Jesus, V." Y/n asked, eyes wide, "How many channels are you running this on?"

"You can take that as gospel. Pulling my viewers? Impossible. I'm visual, he's barely audible."

"Y/n." Alastor hummed, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

"Yeah?"

"You wont mind if I handle this quickly. We can have our little chat after, I promise. It wont take more than a moment."

"I don't know, Al..." Y/n sighed, crossing her arms and tapping her foot slightly, "This isn't good for you, letting him get under your skin like this."

Alastor changed the channel again. A cooking show appeared and Vox was standing before the oven, singing along to the music playing in the background.

"But he should've stayed away! While he hid in radio, we pivoted to video!"

Vox on screen turned to the oven as he sang, opening it and pulling out a deer's head on a plate. Y/n bristled at the site, her horns growing just the tiniest bit longer, her teeth just the smallest bit sharper.

"And now his medium is getting bloody rare!"

"Al?" Y/n asked sharply.

"Yes, darling?"

"I lied." Y/n turned to face him, "He took this shit musical. Rip him a new one."

"Oh!" Millie exclaimed, excitedly grabbing onto Moxxie's arm, "We're gonna get a show!"

Alastor's grin widened at Y/n's words, if that was even possible. He stuck his hand out to the side, his microphone materializing in his grasp.

"Lucky for me, I've got the best voice this side of the divide on my side." he noted, shooting Y/n a look.

Her eyes flashed red.

"You flatter me."

Alastor brought his microphone to his mouth, suddenly exceedingly calm. The imps present in the room watched in shock as his ears flattened along his head.

"Salutations, good to be back on the air!" he announced into the device, "Yes I know it's been a while since someone with style treated hell to a broadcast. Sinners rejoice!"

Vox's brow furrowed on the TV screen as he inched up close to the camera.

"What a dated voice." Vox shot back, clearly listening to Alastor's broadcast on the set of his cooking show.

"Instead of a clout chasing, mediocre, video podcast." Alastor continued, not showing any sign he had noticed the TV demon's insult, "Is Vox insecure, pursuing allure? Flitting between this fad and that, is nothing working?"

"Ignore his chirping!" Vox commanded from the TV.

Y/n laughed and, turning to face Alastor, realized the man held a hand out to her. With a smile, she took it and he spun her into his arms as he spoke. The music echoed through the office as Alastor raised the volume on the TV once again.

"Every day he's got a new format."

Alastor spun Y/n back out again as the pair began dancing.

"You're looking at the future!" Vox yelled back, "He's the shit that comes before that!"

As Alastor spun Y/n back into his arms, she laid one of her hands on top of his holding the microphone and pulled it closer to her face.

"Is Vox as strong as he purports, or is it based on his support?" she sang in a clear voice, Blitzo, Millie, and Moxxie's eyes widening with recognition at the sound, "He'd be powerless without the other Vees."

"That's true!" Alastor noted, pulling the microphone back to himself as Y/n let go of his hand and he spun her back out again.

"It can't be..." Moxxie muttered under his breath.

"Holy shit!" Millie cut him off, excitement creeping into her voice, "There's no way, Y/n is the guest star?"

"The fuck are you two talking about?" Blitzo asked, turning to Millie and Moxxie as they watched the couple continue to dance.

"Well, Sir," Moxxie began, fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket, "back before the Radio Demon went missing, he used to bring guests onto the show on occasion. There was one guest he never named during his broadcasts however. She mostly just sang songs and chatted with him but, she sounded an awful lot like Y/n did just now."

"You don't say." Blitzo hummed, his arms crossed as he turned back to Y/n and Alastor, "So much for little miss 'oh, my life has been so boring. You'd probably just fall asleep if I started talking about it!' She is so gonna get it later."

Alastor let go of Y/n's hand and leaned into the microphone, beginning to sing as well, using the music emanating from the TV as a base.

"And here's the sugar on the cream: he asked me to join his team!"

"Hold on!" Vox yelled.

"I said no and now he's pissy, that's the tea!" Alastor finished, ignoring the demon once again.

"You old timey prick!" Vox exclaimed, his face glitching slightly as Y/n wandered back over to Alastor.

She leaned an elbow on his shoulder, tilting her head to the side in amusement as they watched Vox struggle.

"I'll show you suffering!"

"Aww, the TV is buffering." Y/n said, leaning into the microphone, her voice dripping with sickly sweet pity.

"I'll destroy yoo-o-u-u" Vox exclaimed as his technical difficulties seemed to grow worse.

Alastor and Y/n exchanged a wicked pair of smiles as the TV flickered out. Shadows crept from the edges of the room, encircling their feet. Alastor held an arm out to Y/n once again which she took with a smile. In a flash of darkness, they were gone.

"What the fuck was that?" Loona asked, stalking into the room.

----

Next Part -> Chapter Five -- The Conversation

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merakiui · 2 months

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maybe, i'm afraid.

azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: slight angst, nsfw, azul bottles his feelings and is insecure note - happy birthday to my favorite tako in the whole world. <3 may you have wonderful days forever!! // loosely inspired by lovelytheband's "maybe, i'm afraid."

i. spring - dancing in your party dress, you were singing me some frank sinatra as you wept. pull me close enough. it seems like we lost touch, so hold me as the record skips.

“Can you believe we’re gonna be fourth years?!” Kalim exclaims with wide, sparkling eyes. They look like twin garnets set into his face—polished jewels having caught the aquatic illumination from Mostro Lounge’s aquarium. “Time really does fly, huh!”

“Feels like yesterday,” Ruggie agrees around a mouthful of food. His plate is stacked as high as it can possibly get, piled with contrasting flavors. “Pretty crazy to think we’re all gonna be heading off in different directions soon.”

Jade nods. “Our school lives are as fun as they are fleeting.”

An odd quiet falls over the three of them, which is soon broken when Floyd drapes himself over the booth. He leans down to swipe a sliver from Jade’s plate. “Whatcha talkin’ about?”

“Just reminiscing.”

“Ah. S’bout that time, ain’t it? Gettin’ sentimental in the spring.”

“Makes sense. The semester’s ending and people are starting up their internships or going home. Really makes you think…”

Ruggie gazes at the group huddled near the bar. Riddle, Jamil, and a half-awake Silver chat alongside you and Azul. You seem to be in the middle of a riveting story, for your arms gesticulate wildly. Azul looks on with what Ruggie thinks is the most mushy-gushy, ooey-gooey smile he’s ever seen.

“We’re gonna come back in the winter, aren’t we?” Kalim asks, tilting his head.

“Indeed. For the cultural festival.”

“Yeah, that’s right! It’ll be fun to see you guys after so much time apart. Oh, we should all keep in touch! That way it’ll feel like no time has passed at all.”

“Perhaps not for us.” Jade follows Ruggie’s line of sight, landing on one person in particular. “For others, the gap is cavernous.”

“What do you mean, Jade?”

Floyd catches on then. “S’not our fault he’s not sayin’ anything.”

Ruggie shrugs. “It doesn’t concern me.” He pops up from his spot in the booth, grinning. “It’s been great and all, but I’ve gotta get my fill. Wouldn’t be right for a guy to skimp out when it’s Azul hosting.”

Giggling, Floyd waves him off. “You do that, Sharksucker.”

Kalim turns to the twins, brows raised. “You’re talking about Azul?”

“He’s been swept up in Shrimpy ever since. It’s been—how long now?—about two years or something.”

“Oh.” Kalim blinks back at him, slow on the uptake. And then, seconds later, it hits him. “Ohhh! He likes (Name)!”

“There ya go.”

“I’m afraid he’s yet to confess,” Jade adds around a bite of cake. “You should see the plans he’s drafted. Dozens of them, in fact. Each one is… Oh, perhaps I’ve said too much already.”

“I don’t get it. If he likes (Name) so much, why wouldn’t he just confess? Why make plans?”

“Wow, Sea Otter, you don’t play when it comes to feelings, do ya?”

“If it was me, I’d want everyone to know how much I care about someone.” To demonstrate this point, he cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “You’re the best, (Name)!”

You glance past a now wide-awake Silver at the twins and Kalim. Mirroring his actions, you reply in a giggly voice, “Thanks! You’re great, too, Kalim!”

Beaming, he says, “See? It’s not so difficult. If Azul needs any help, I’d be happy to—”

Floyd throws his head back and cackles like a madman. “Not so difficult for you!”

Jade masks his amusement behind a gloved fist. “My, my. I think I’ve just witnessed the very soul drain from Azul’s eyes. You have quite the talent, Kalim.”

Kalim doesn’t hear the underlying meaning or the backhanded barb in his statement. “He’s got time, doesn’t he?”

“That’s what he keeps saying. But deep down he knows.” Floyd watches Azul hurry to recover his composure before anyone can notice. “He’s leaving for his internship after school’s over and then graduation’s next spring. He’s running out of time.”

“Does (Name) like him? Maybe she’ll confess before he does!”

“That’s just it. He doesn’t know what Shrimpy feels for him. Been driving himself crazy all school year tryin’ to figure that one out.”

“I suspect he’s grown excessively cautious as a result of his fear of rejection,” Jade explains, dragging his fork through the buttercream smeared on his plate.

“But if he confesses now and she doesn’t feel the same, he’ll have all summer to recover.” Kalim turns his stare on you next. “(Name)’s always been nice. I’m sure she wouldn’t shatter his heart.”

“When you’re Azul, even the tiniest push is enough.”

“Really? But he’s always so strong!”

Jade hums. “Three hearts are quite the boon-burden.”

“Only makes lovin’ someone that much worse. Cuz then you’re lovin’ ’em three times as much.”

“Isn’t that good? I think it’s sweet Azul cares about (Name) so much.”

“Sweet…” Jade shares a look with Floyd. Something unspoken passes between them. “Yes, I suppose that’s one way to put it.”

“Azul thinks it’s a pain in the ass. Throws him off his course and he loooves bein’ on his course.”

Kalim stares a moment longer. “Maybe he needs a push in the right direction.”

“Liquid courage works wonders—”

“—or gives way to woe.”

“Nothing like that.” He doesn’t elaborate further, instead getting up and padding over to the bar with a cheerful bounce in his steps. “Hey, everyone, let’s take a picture!”

Riddle welcomes him with a warm smile. “Ah, hello there, Kalim.”

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Jamil comments, arms folding across his chest. Which, arguably, is worse because it can only spell trouble should Kalim find himself inspired.

“Way ahead of you!” You hold your Ghost Camera up, turning the lens on Kalim. Lighting up like the very sun in the sky, he poses just as you snap a photo. It takes a few moments for it to develop, but once it does you hand it over to him for his perusal. “Looking good as always.”

“Aww, thanks! Okay, your turn next! Let’s get a big group photo and then individual photos.” With the camera now in his possession, Kalim’s free to fidget with it as he pleases. “Ooh, this is neat!”

“Careful with that!” Jamil bounds forward just in case. “The Headmage gave that to (Name). Don’t break it.”

“I won’t,” Kalim promises, holding it up to capture you and Jamil in its sight. “I think I’ve got it! Everyone, group up! Picture time!”

There’s lots of fumbling. An argument about height breaks out. Floyd pokes fun at Riddle for having to stand in front to account for his height. Riddle fumes, red with anger, and stomps his foot indignantly—all while insisting he’s still growing. You offer to stand beside him, but he hisses at you like a cat: “Don’t patronize me! I’m of perfect, healthy stature for someone my age!”

Kalim looks on from behind the camera. “Actually, can we get (Name) and Azul together first?”

Azul, who had been in the process of adding to the joke with a comment of his own, hesitates. He peers at Kalim, his walls rising. “Me?”

“Yeah! Only fair to put you front and center. You’re the host, after all!”

“Ah, right. Of course. But then—”

“Why me?” you ask, confused. “If anything, I should stay out of the picture. I’m not a third year like the rest of you.”

Kalim gasps, scandalized. “We can’t do that! It doesn’t matter what year you are. You’re still our friend, and parties are for everyone to enjoy.”

“Doesn’t that throw off the original plan?” Ruggie wonders, munching on a frosted donut.

“Kalim, we need to account for height. Riddle can’t stand in the back.” Jamil glances apologetically at Riddle. “That’s just the reality of it.”

Riddle huffs, refusing to dignify that with a response.

“I’ll stand in the front,” Silver offers.

“What? No, that’s not the issue here, Silver.”

“It’s not? I thought we were picking who stands beside (Name).”

“Ooh, I wanna stand with Shrimpy!” Floyd wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your head. “C’mon, Sea Otter, take our pic!”

Jamil sighs. “All of you…”

“Shall we take individual photos with (Name) first?” Jade suggests, smiling placidly at Kalim.

This time the message is received loud and clear. “Oh, great idea, Jade! Azul and (Name), could you stand next to each other?”

The group disperses to allow you and Azul to do just that. Rigidly, Azul steps closer. He keeps a healthy distance between your bodies, one Jade picks up on right away.

“Please smile and pretend like you love each other,” he instructs, to which Azul flusters.

“W-What? Jade, that’s—”

“C’mere, Ashengrotto! I don’t bite!”

With a joyous laugh, you wrap your arm around Azul’s waist and drag him in close. He stumbles, flushed in the face, just as the camera flashes. The corresponding photo slides out next, blank for a while. Eventually, the image begins to show up with striking clarity.

“How’s it look? Great, right?” As soon as it happened, it’s gone—your warmth. The comfort of being held. Azul almost pursues you when you release him from your grasp and move towards Kalim to inspect the photo. Thankfully, he catches himself. “Hey, this is nice! Good job.”

You and Kalim share a high-five.

“Me next, Sea Otter!” Floyd crowds in, baring his pointed teeth in an unruly grin.

With everyone’s attention on you, Kalim, and the camera, Azul’s left to stand behind in silence. Anticipating the rainless deluge, Jade lingers within earshot.

“I know,” he mutters in a brittle tone. “Don’t say a word.”

“Not a peep. Although if I may share just a tiny tidbit… Kalim offered some very helpful advice. You may want to hear it.”

Azul stares at him, stunned. “You told Kalim?”

“Not directly, no. It was implied.” Jade averts his mismatched eyes on purpose. “More or less.”

“I should’ve made you and Floyd sign NDAs…”

“Is it really so sensitive?”

“Yes! Yes, of course it is!” Azul deflates with a sigh, looking on mournfully. You’re trying to snatch the camera from Floyd’s hands. He holds it up and out of reach, laughing raucously. “What did he say?”

“If you confess now, you’ll have the entire summer to mend your tattered heart.”

Azul barks out a short, hollow laugh. “In an ideal world, that’s easy.”

“You’re making it more difficult than it needs to be.” Jade issues an encouraging smile. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Are you seriously asking that?”

“It’s just something to consider.”

A minute ticks between them. Jade watches the scene alongside Azul, delighting in distant chaos.

“I’m afraid, Jade,” he admits quietly, the confession as soft and fragile as a single breath. “She’s everything and I’m…nothing.”

Jade frowns in disagreement.

“I’ve looked at it from every conceivable angle. There isn’t any calculated risk to be made—no potential profit or success to be had.”

“Are you certain?”

“Very.”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to get it off your chest. We have a few weeks left before the break. If not your heart, perhaps you could establish a means to communicate?”

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt… For the sake of networking—”

Jade chuckles. “Networking? Is that it?”

Azul scowls. “You’re awfully irritating tonight.”

“I’m not the one with his tentacles tied, hopelessly infatuated.”

“You—”

“(Name), there’s something Azul would like to tell you,” Jade announces, and you turn to look at him.

Azul thinks he should just go ahead and die right there. Is it possible to spontaneously combust if he thinks about it long enough? Is such a phenomenon magic? All he needs to do is visualize it and then the spark will catch and—

“Yeah? What’s up, Azul?”

Azul flounders, his concentration broken. Like he’s done so many times in the past, he plasters his trademark smirk-grin on and falls into the shoes of the sleazy conman. “If you ever find yourself in need of study materials even after I’ve graduated, do not hesitate to contact me and I—”

You laugh. “I think I’ll be good. Thanks, though.”

With withering confidence, he chuckles. “I could give you quite the deal. You’d be missing out…”

You roll your eyes, unconvinced.

Jade—annoying, asshole Jade—brushes past, smooth as sea glass. “I shall take my leave, but please continue your chat. I believe there’s a camera waiting to capture the memory of me.”

Now it’s just you and Azul. He clears his throat, suddenly awkward.

“(Name), I—”

“Azul—”

“Oh.” He stares at you, a smile twitching on his lips. “You first.”

“No, no, you spoke before me.”

“Ah. Well…”

If you confess now, you’ll have the entire summer to mend your tattered heart. As if a love that’s been flowering for two years could possibly be resolved within the span of a few months.

He tries again even though it’s not what he really wants to say. “I do hope you’ll have a pleasant summer.”

“You as well.” You nudge him. “Kick ass at your internship.”

“I intend to.” Right. Internship. Work. Business. He can hold a normal conversation if that’s the topic. “And you? Do you plan to stay here?”

“Yeah. Crowley’s letting Grim and me live on campus since we don’t have anywhere else to go. I’ll work part-time in Craneport. Summer is a great season for tourism, but I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

Azul laughs. “If it’s a family, they may spend more on kid’s menus for the novelty of it all. Be sure to talk it up to truly sell it. All children deserve to know the magic of a seasonal menu, do they not? Food in fun shapes. Fairy tales and sparkles. All of that razzmatazz. It’s the experience they’re paying for, after all.”

“Is that advice free?”

“Is it?”

“Fine, fine.” You dig through your pocket and hand him the photo from earlier. “Your payment, good sir. A memento of me.”

Azul takes it from you, admires your effortlessly pretty smile, and then freezes. “Oh, I look positively dreadful!”

“Not at all. It adds character.”

“A horrid sort of character.”

You sidle up beside him, peering at the picture. “I like it. It’s a photo of an imperfect Azul.”

“What an ambiguous compliment.”

“I’m serious! It’s Azul when he’s not acting. I like imperfect Azul. He’s authentic. A real person.” You pat him on the shoulder. He stiffens, betraying his initial nonchalance. “Or maybe not. One day I’ll catch you off guard.”

“We’ll see.”

“One day…” Your attention is stolen when you catch sight of the group attempting to bunch together for a selfie. Offering Azul that same smile he’s admired ever since he saw it, you add, “Have a fun summer. Don’t be a stranger next year, okay?” And then you’re bounding across the lounge. “Wait for me! I want in, too!”

For the rest of the semester, Azul keeps the photo tucked away in his phone case.

I have time to mull over the pros and cons, he tells himself when he departs through the mirror, summer break at his fingertips.

ii. summer - maybe i’m just too good. maybe i’ll run away. maybe i’m over you. maybe i shouldn’t stay. maybe i just don’t care. maybe i talk too much.

It occurs to you, while sorting through the photos you’ve taken throughout this past school year, that there’s an absurd amount of Azul. Whether on his own or with others, he appears in more photos than anyone else. You wonder how that happened—how you managed to be there for so many of his moments, each one documented in photographic permanence.

Some of them are humorous. Azul looking unimpressed when you lifted your camera to capture him. Grim jumping into his arms to demand snacks. His glasses sitting crooked on his face. Some of them are endearing. Azul reading in a comfortable nook in the library. Azul smiling fondly at the lens during an alchemy lesson. Azul laughing after you cracked a joke during PE. Some of them are animated. Azul waving at you from across the courtyard. Azul rolling his eyes at a dull pun. Azul playfully blowing a kiss to the camera after you told him to do something memorable. Some are special. Azul in his birthday robes. Azul during that time Mostro Lounge became a butler café for one week. Azul on his last day of the semester, leveling the camera with a roguish smirk.

This one—the most recent and last photo taken of him—is especially important. It’s the conversation that prompted an unforgettable expression that fills you with butterflies whenever you recall it.

“I think you’ll miss me,” you told him, elbowing him for good measure.

“I think I will,” he replied, his lips curling.

Unequipped to deliver a witty retort, you could only gawk.

“Don’t tell me that’s all it takes to shock you into silence.” He chuckled, and there was that infamous smirk-grin—sitting so perfectly on his face, as if it was meant to be there for this very exchange. “You’re too easy, (Name). Where’s the challenge?”

Wordlessly, you raised your Ghost Camera and snapped his picture.

There are so many facets to his person that you’ve managed to catch on your camera—complex layers you wouldn’t have otherwise witnessed if you hadn’t spent so much time around him.

Now you realize why you have an abundance of Azul photos.

We sure hung out a lot this year, and every time I had my camera…

Is he your muse? Is he just naturally photogenic? He fits into plenty of backgrounds, but it’s never the scenery that fascinates and bewitches. It’s always his expression, his body language, his emotions. And the reason all of these photos are so important is because this is an Azul who is comfortable enough to show these sides to you. An Azul who wants you to document his best and his worst, his beautiful and his ugly, his silly and his serious.

Sitting at your desk, thumbing through stacks of photos, you know he’s more than a muse. As you watch Azul move in various pictures, you wonder what he’s doing. It’s only a month into summer, but everything feels so slow. Campus has cleared out, and with it the lounge has closed for the season. You’re certain he still has his ways of making profit and spreading word of its wonders. Azul isn’t foolish. He’s always working an angle. Endlessly clever and stubbornly ambitious.

Does he miss me, too? you think, running your finger over his smiling face. Or was that just something he said to get a reaction?

Just then, a gut-wrenching thought lodges itself deep: Are we even friends? What if he thinks I’m a nuisance? Maybe he’s just tolerating me and all this time I’ve been delusional.

You glimpse the photos again, watching Azul laugh soundlessly in an animated loop. What am I to you, Azul?

As if on cue, having sensed your sadness, arms wrap around you from behind. For a second you think it’s Grim, but then you see distinctly human hands clasping together. You whirl, startled out of your skin, to find Azul Ashengrotto standing there.

“Wha… What?”

He’s…here. Azul is standing in your bedroom.

You blink once and he remains. You blink twice and he’s still there, gazing down at you with soft, smiling features.

“Hello to you as well.”

“Hey…?” You pat his cheek and flinch away. “Oh, you’re real!”

“Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I be?” Chuckling, he withdraws and moves to stand at your deskside. “I’m wounded. To think you would forget me just like that. And I thought I was plenty memorable.” He blows you a mock kiss then, and that’s when it finally strikes you.

This isn’t your Azul. This is an Azul from your photos.

How is this even possible? you think, scrambling to find which picture—which memory—he’s from. In doing so, you remember a particularly unique fact about the Ghost Camera. It’s a magical device that allows a photographer to capture slivers of their subject’s soul, which gives way to a special sort of connection known as a soulbond. The deeper the bond, the more likely the person in the photographs is to take on animation and, in some cases, slip out of the image that contains them.

So this is Azul from the time at which he was last photographed, you determine, holding up pictures to match his corporeal likeness to that of the scenery. The Ghost Camera is so cool…

“I missed you, you know.”

“Did you now?” He leans in close, curious. “How much?”

You push him away with a weak scoff. This isn’t good for your heart. Any closer and you might say something you’ll come to regret.

“Not as much as you think.”

“Is that so?” His gaze pans over to the pile of photos on your desk. “And these photos are simply here for convenience?”

“D-Don’t worry about it! Summer project. You wouldn’t get it.”

He flashes his teeth at you in a bright, competitive grin. “Try me.”

“You’re so nosy. Don’t you get tired of prying?”

“Not in the slightest.” He leans against the desk, his arms folding casually over his chest. “That’s besides the point. You’re avoiding the subject at hand.”

You turn in your chair and open your mouth to reply—why are you so invested in this?—but a better idea crops up. Meeting his cerulean stare with fierce, fiery eyes, you challenge him: “If it matters so much to you, I could be convinced to share my plans for the small price of one kiss. A real kiss. Not that fake one from before.”

Azul blinks back at you, a smirk crawling onto his face. “Is that all you desire?”

“What do you mean by—”

Your question is cut off when another set of arms embraces you from behind. Warm, soft lips press against your cheek; his breath tickles your ear.

“Are two not better than one?”

With a yelp, you jerk back so fast that you almost fall out of your chair. Standing there, looking very proud of himself, is another Azul. But this one, unlike Dorm Azul, is dressed in his school uniform. A very helpful distinction.

“D-Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

It’s the only coherent sentence you can manage. Your mind is a panicked muddle: I can’t believe it. Two Azuls. Am I dreaming? This is definitely a dream, right? There’s no way he’d kiss me on the…

You slap your hand over your cheek, gasping. “Y-You kissed me?!”

“Is that not the price you wanted me to pay?” School Azul asks, one brow raised as if daring you to deny that fact.

Dorm Azul’s fingers curl under your chin, guiding your gaze towards him. “Unless you’d like to raise the price…”

You swallow thickly. This can’t be happening.

“Of course, in raising the price, it’s expected you raise the value of the information you’re willing to divulge,” School Azul adds with a chuckle. “Is that not fair?”

You shrink under both of their insistent stares. “W-Why do you even wanna know?”

“Why not? Any information is good information so long as it’s useful.”

You scoff, but it comes out choked and shy. “I… I’m going to use these photos to put together a present for you. I know your birthday’s so far away, but I’m getting a head start.”

“And this present would entail…?”

You click your tongue at him. “I already paid my half for that kiss. No more.”

“Aah, is that right?” Dorm Azul leans in, kissing dangerously close to your lips. You reach up to touch the corner of your mouth after he’s pulled away. “How much for the full story?”

“How much are you willing to pay?”

School Azul rests his chin on your shoulder. His hands settle on your waist, pulling you up from your seat. This proximity allows you to feel his hair as it brushes against your face. Dorm Azul closes the distance as if it’s second nature, and now you’re sandwiched between the both of them.

Your heart stumbles in your chest. He’s quite literally surrounding you, but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

“A very valid question.” Dorm Azul glances coyly at School Azul. “What do you think, Me?”

“Will we be enough for you, (Name)?” he purrs, rubbing slow circles into your hips.

You’re dizzy in their arms, your entire body warming with anticipation and embarrassment alike. Is it okay to be selfish? Even though this isn’t technically Azul—just mere memories of him—it seems so real. He’s holding you, touching you, reaching for you…

“Hmm. Two does seem to be a bit much.”

“Let’s call it a holiday and say it’s seasonal spoiling.”

“A gift for the summer.”

“Do open the window to let in the breeze. The heat is prone to making one feel rather…stuffy.”

They’re doing this on purpose. Maybe another Azul is more troublesome than I once thought. I can only handle so much charm!

Shrugging off self-doubt, you grab Dorm Azul by his lapels and yank him towards you, sealing the space that once separated your mouths in a hungry kiss. He melts against you, eyes fluttering shut. It’s quick and starved, the way you chase each other’s lips. You cling to him before you can fall, arms looped around his neck to keep him near.

Fully clothed and achingly desperate, you loathe the unbearable heat, but nothing is more molten than the space between your thighs.

Meanwhile, School Azul takes his sweet time running his hands along your sides, up the length of your body until he reaches your chest. With his form pinned to yours, you can feel his erection pressing against your ass. Rather shamelessly, he rolls his hips. You’re pushed up against Dorm Azul next, who takes hold of your hand and guides it to the strain in his slacks. He pulls away briefly to allow School Azul to slide your shirt up and over your head.

“Were you anticipating this?” he whispers, taking hold of your breasts.

“No way,” you protest between kisses. “Not… No. K-Keep dreaming. It’s too much trouble to wear one in the summer. Gets hot and—”

Dorm Azul captures your lips in another ravenous smooch, and the objection dies in your throat.

“There’s no need for these pesky articles where I’m from,” School Azul murmurs. He presses kisses into your bare shoulder, humming his very obvious delight. “You’d have already been laid out beneath me if that were the case… Soft and sweet, all mine to love at the bottom of the sea…”

“Humans have so many steps,” Dorm Azul laments, tutting.

“And merfolk don’t?” You try to sound smart with your question, but it comes out breathless when your nipple’s twisted between two fingers. “Oh…”

“Not when it comes to clothing. The very concept doesn’t exist beneath the waves.”

“You could visit sometime and see for yourself. I’ll welcome you with open arms.” Dorm Azul rests his forehead against yours. “And maybe then you’ll find yourself so taken with my home that you’ll want to stay.”

“A tempting offer.”

“But?” he prompts, his gaze falling to your hand as you palm him through his pants. He inhales a shaky breath.

“What’s stopping you?” the other Azul asks, his voice muffled in your skin.

“Firstly, I’m not a mer.”

“My dear, that’s nothing. Have you forgotten my proficiency in potionology?”

“And how much will one of your potions cost? I’d love to visit, but if it’s going to bankrupt me—”

“For you, a single kiss is all I require.”

“Isn’t that awfully cheap?”

Dorm Azul chuckles at this back-and-forth. “You say that as if you want me to charge an exorbitant amount.”

Glaring, you squeeze him out of revenge. His laughter comes out choked next, replaced with a needy whimper. Unbelievable.

“Maybe I do.”

“I would be careful with those words, dearest. I might take them to heart.”

He ruts against your hand, panting into your mouth. The kiss is sloppy and wet, all tongue and saliva. You move on instinct, grabbing at his shoulders when you’re taken to bed next. Both Azuls peer down at you from where they kneel on either side of you. They issue you hazy, lust-drunk smiles. Hands wander, feeling every inch you have to offer. You shut your eyes and submit to titillating touches.

“You really did miss me,” School Azul remarks when his fingers slip into your shorts to rub you through your sodden panties. Your breath hitches, a strangled whine squeezed from your throat, and he laughs. “I missed you, too.”

“I really like you,” you blurt, chest heaving with your every breath. He squeezes your clit to draw another sinful groan from you. “I think—Azul, you’re so—I think you’re so amazing… I wish we talked more. The year—aah… It went by so fast.”

“It did, didn’t it?”

“I wanna know you—the real you. I wanna know what Azul’s like when he’s comfortable and when he’s sad and when he’s happy. I wanna—ooh! Please… Please, Azul…” You grab fistfuls of the sheets, arching up towards the hands that caress your stomach lovingly. “I just want you.”

“And you’ll have me,” he—you’re not sure which—promises, leaning over to kiss you. It’s soulful passion, lust bleeding into love. Your cries are lost on his lips when you come undone beneath him, buoyant on a mellow wave.

You sense the loss before you see it.

Half-nude and gasping for breath, you stare up at the ceiling. Your bedroom is empty. All that remains of the Azuls are the animated memories imprinted on the photographs.

“I’m losing my mind…” you mutter, draping your arm over your eyes.

Please let summer pass quickly.

iii. winter - maybe all we are is fools with hearts that tried too hard. and maybe that’s just fine as long as you’re here in my arms.

Azul paces restlessly in his VIP room. It’s been months since he’s seen you, but his heart hasn’t swayed in the slightest. If anything, he’s only grown fonder in the time spent apart. Absence… What a bothersome thing.

“You’re gonna walk yourself into the floor, y’know. Your shoes’ll be all worn out by the time you’re done.”

“I’m aware,” Azul quips, uncharacteristically jittery. He turns towards Floyd. “Do I look presentable? Is anything crooked or misplaced? How about my hair?”

“You’re fine.” At Azul’s disbelieving glower, Floyd pouts. “I mean it. Shrimpy’s gonna like it either way.”

He bristles, defensive. “Who said anything about (Name)?”

“No one, but you’re thinkin’ it.”

“I… T-That’s besides the point! It doesn’t matter. She’s only here because I invited her. Common courtesy and all that.”

“Mm, I dunno about that one.”

Azul frowns at the vault set into the wall behind his desk. If only he could pack all of his fears in there and lock them away for good. Then he could continue masquerading as someone fearless and confident. With winter having descended upon campus, bringing with it layers of fluffy, glittering snow, and the cultural festival having concluded successfully, Azul finds himself lost.

This is the last birthday he’ll celebrate at Night Raven College and, subsequently, the last February he’ll spend with you. He’s running out of time.

“Invitation or not, Shrimpy’ll always wish you a happy birthday. S’not like her to forget. Plus, she cares about ya.”

“You can’t be sure of that.”

Azul’s tone is so sharp that Floyd raises his hands in defense. “Guess not.”

“What would you do?” He inhales a wobbly breath. “If you were in my shoes…”

Floyd scratches the back of his neck, contemplative. “Dunno. Guess I’d wait for the right moment and say somethin’ to get it outta my system.”

Azul sighs. “Jade said something similar.”

“He ain’t wrong.”

“I’m not prepared.”

“No one is.” Floyd smiles at Azul’s baffled expression. “C’mon, Azul, you can plan all you want, but you know life’s never gonna go the way you want it to. S’just how it is.”

“Even so, it’s better to know all viable routes and options before diving into uncharted waters.”

“That’s just it. You can’t know. S’kinda the whole point, ain’t it?”

“I can’t do it,” he decides, the words heavy on his tongue. “I’d rather accept my future failure now than continue working towards it.”

“Like a coward.”

“Far from it! In business, that’s known as rescission. It is a completely valid method of—”

“You ever realize your feelings and business are two separate things? Not everything’s gotta be about business.”

Azul stands there, nonplussed.

Floyd makes for the door, stopping only to add, “Your fly’s unzipped, by the way.”

“You—” He scrambles to check. Much to his relief, it’s not. “Honestly… That’s not even funny.”

He smooths nonexistent wrinkles, schools his expression into something brave, and exhales slowly. I’m not going to ruin an occasion as grand as this with a half-baked confession.

Having made up his mind, he steps through the door out into the bustling lounge. Like clockwork, all eyes turn to him. He searches the crowd for you, hopeful. But before he can locate you, party poppers resound with a loud bang. Confetti trickles down like colorful rainfall, landing on his suit and getting stuck in his hair.

“Happy birthday, Azul!”

He wants to run and hide. He wants to dive into the sea and seek solace in his favorite octopus pot. He wants to bury himself in the sand and disappear.

Instead, he smiles and spreads his arms like he’s just pulled off an astounding magic trick. “Why, thank you, everyone! I’m pleased you could make it. Do enjoy yourselves to the fullest tonight.”

Cheers erupt amongst the partygoers, but they might as well be on a completely different island. Azul turns, hoping to make his rounds and escape, but Kalim intercepts him. Jamil isn’t far behind.

“Azul, happy birthday!” Kalim smiles just as Jamil catches up.

He passes two expertly wrapped gifts into Azul’s empty hands. “On behalf of Kalim and myself, thank you for the invitation.”

“Yeah, super thanks! It’s been so much fun. I hope you’ll like your gift, but if you don’t just let me know and I’ll get you something else. Whatever you want! You deserve it on your special day.”

Azul looks past him, not in the mood to entertain. “Yes, of course. It’s not a problem.”

Jamil raises a brow, but then it clicks. “(Name) wanted me to pass on her regards.”

As expected, that draws his attention. “Why’s that?”

“She wasn’t sure if she’d get to see you on your big, busy day.” Jamil eyes Azul knowingly.

Kalim nods. “We ran into her on the way here, but she said to go on without her.”

Azul doesn’t like the way they’re both looking at him—as if they’re in on some joke he’s not currently aware of.

“Well,” he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “her regards are well-received.”

“You’re not going to meet her?”

“It’s my big, busy day, isn’t it? I’m afraid she’ll have to catch me at her earliest convenience.” Azul, gifts in hand, smiles. “Please do enjoy the party, you two. Thank you again for your thoughtful gifts and birthday wishes.”

On his way to the table designed for gifts, Azul spots Riddle, Silver, and Ruggie. They stand off to the side, chatting amongst themselves. He supposes, if anything, he might as well say hello. Setting the gifts down, Azul struts over.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I do hope you’re enjoying yourselves.”

“You know it. Parties at Octavinelle are always somethin’ else,” Ruggie says. Unsurprisingly, he’s done well to fix himself a plate and more. With him around Azul doesn’t have to fret over food waste.

“Your presentation at the cultural festival was very informative, if I may say so,” Riddle commends, sipping his fizzy beverage.

“As was yours.” Azul’s smile tightens. For some reason, he’s always felt the need to walk on eggshells around Riddle. And for good reason, too! Whatever Azul seems to accomplish, no matter how lofty a feat, Riddle seems to do better. “I’m sure you’ve had quite the rewarding experience yourself.”

“Indeed.”

“It’s good timing,” Silver notes, and all eyes drift towards him. Azul perks up. Timing. He needs more of that. “Your birthday came right after the festival. It’s almost like celebrating your hard work and another healthy year all in one.”

“Never thought about it that way. Guess it makes sense when you put it like that.” Ruggie grins cheekily. “Lucky you, Azul.”

“I wouldn’t call it luck. The dates just happened to align… Either way, thank you, Silver. I’m pleased you can look at it with such inspiring positivity.”

“You catch up with (Name) yet?”

“No? Am I meant to?”

“Just asking.” Ruggie shrugs. “She had me run a few errands for her yesterday. Said it was all for your sake, but when I tried to get more info outta her she told me I’d have to wait for ‘the big reveal’—whatever that is.”

Now everyone’s looking at him. Azul feels small.

“With how often I’ve heard her name tonight, I’d think she’s the one with the birthday.”

“Is she really so popular today? Odd. I haven’t had the chance to greet her,” Riddle muses.

“I thought I saw her this afternoon.” Silver furrows his brow, uncertain. “She seems busy.”

“Which is precisely why I can’t fathom the insistence that I ought to have met with her already.”

Ruggie tilts his head. “That the only reason?”

Just how many people are in on this asinine joke? More importantly, which eel is he going to have to wring out for spilling a not-so-secret secret?

Azul realizes his mask is slipping and so he repairs it expertly. If Ruggie takes notice of this, he doesn’t say anything. “It’s bad manners to show up late to a party. I’m sure one of us will agree.”

Riddle nods, but his words are surprisingly lenient. “Life happens. I suppose we can’t fault (Name) entirely.”

“She’ll make it. I’m sure she will. Don’t worry, Azul,” Silver reassures.

He’s not. He won’t. He isn’t.

“If the world was ending tomorrow,” Ruggie says, sliding into a new subject with practiced finesse, “what would you all do?”

“The end of the world…” Riddle frowns. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s a hypothetical. Anything’s possible.”

Silver hums thoughtfully. “I’d spend what time I have left with my loved ones.”

“You sure you’re not just gonna go running back to Briar Valley to protect Malleus?”

“As a guard it’s my duty, but fighting against the inevitable would be pointless.” Silver looks to the rest of them for their input. “If the world is ending and there’s nothing a guard like myself can do to prevent it, then I can only offer what’s left of my time.”

“So companionship. Okay, good to know. What about you, Riddle?”

He huffs. “I refuse to let the world end before I’ve accomplished my goals.”

“Yikes. You academic types don’t rest, do you?”

“No, no, it’s true,” Azul pipes up. “I agree. Why am I going to let the world get in the way of my plans?”

“So both of you are going to resist it until the very end?”

“You said anything can happen in a hypothetical, yes?” Riddle smirks. “In my hypothetical the world says it’ll end tomorrow, but it never does. It keeps saying so like it’s a faulty forecast. The end of the world is scheduled for next week, the week after, three weeks from now. By then, a year’s passed and the world still hasn’t ended.”

Ruggie groans. “That defeats the whole purpose of my question. You can’t give yourself more time when it’s already so limited.”

“Anything is possible if you know what you’re working with,” Azul adds, nodding alongside Riddle. “I quite like this hypothetical.”

“Leave it to the honors students to logic it out and make it more complicated than it needs to be…”

“You wouldn’t spend it with your loved ones?” Silver asks, but it appears as if the question is directed entirely at Azul. “I think I’d want to tell them the things I never got to say. Things I put off saying… Would you do that, too, Azul?”

“I…” He shuts his mouth and then opens it. “I’m not sure what I could possibly say within such a limited timeframe.”

“It doesn’t have to be complex.”

“I guess a good, old ‘love you lots’ is better than nothing,” Ruggie says.

Azul stops short. The end of the world. Time. Loss. Loved ones.

Time! He’s running out of time!

“Well, this was quite the lively discussion, but I’m afraid I’ll have to excuse myself now. There are a few more people I must meet.” Azul smiles gratefully at the three of them. They wish him another happy birthday before he finally departs, his heart in his throat.

He’s running out of time.

Logically, Azul knows the feeling doesn’t reflect his reality. It’s not as if he has to confess by the end of the school year. Logically, he has his entire life to confess. But who’s to say you’ll stay in his life after he graduates? You might be gone by the time he finally finds the right words, the right time, the right circumstance.

You can plan all you want, but you know life’s never gonna go the way you want it to.

Floyd’s right. There’s no way of knowing for sure until he does it. There’s no way to know what lies in those uncharted waters until he dives in. There’s no way to know where your heart lies until he confesses.

The world isn’t going to end tomorrow, but if he doesn’t say what he needs to before graduation he’ll never have another chance. And then that world—the world contained within NRC’s boundaries—will implode and that will be that.

At that very moment, a camera flashes. He spins around to search the photographer out and—

There you are, striding through throngs of people to reach him. There you are, dressed for the occasion. There you are, wearing that pretty smile he sees in his dreams.

“Happy birthday!” You turn the photo towards him for his viewing pleasure. It’s of him, staring off into space. He looks so stone-faced with his knitted brows and pursed lips. “Sorry about showing up late. I had to add the finishing touches to your present.”

You hand it to him. The amateur wrapping job makes the gift appear more lumpy than it actually is. It’s heavy like a textbook. Shaped as such, too. Azul wonders what its contents could be. Perhaps something relating to economics? A novel in a particular genre?

“Thank you very much. I’ll take good care of both.” He tucks the picture into his breastpocket, battling the urge to tear into your gift now. He needs to know. What did you get him? What could it possibly be? “I’m glad you could make it.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

“Even if the world was ending?”

“Uh… What?”

“Ah, never mind that. It was simply a lingering thought from a previous conversation.”

“That’s so grim! And on your birthday, no less.”

Azul waves his hand through the air. A playful smile draws his lips apart. “Can you believe Riddle said he’d make the apocalypse wait on his behalf?”

“Seriously?” You snort, eyes brightening with amusement. “Even the apocalypse gets a schedule…”

He barks out a laugh. “Insanity, isn’t it?”

“Maybe for us, but definitely not for Riddle.” You glance at him. “What about you? What does Azul Ashengrotto’s last day look like?”

He intends to answer with something prepackaged: Awash in success until the very end!

“Alone.”

“Really? No friends or family by your side?”

“Would that make it better? Perhaps being surrounded by others only intensifies the dread.”

There’s some sort of symbolism in coming into the world alone and going out the same. Azul just can’t quite phrase it eloquently.

“Maybe there’s no right answer. Maybe there’s not any comfort in it either.” You run your fingers over the edges of your Ghost Camera. “We can’t know what lies ahead until we’re there. Maybe that’s why we spend so much time theorizing.”

“Quite the insightful judgment.”

“For the record, I wouldn’t mind being your plus-one for the end of the world.”

“I’m flattered.” He grins. “I shall be yours in return.”

“No strings attached?”

“All the strings attached. So many,” he exaggerates.

“No fair!”

Silence fills in the cracks. You stand side by side, drinking in Mostro Lounge’s upbeat atmosphere. After some time, you nudge him.

“Look at us, speaking about all of these sad things. It’s your birthday, not a funeral!”

He wonders if now’s a good time. Should he lighten the mood and confess? But wouldn’t that just make it even more serious and somber? Is there ever going to be an opportune moment?

You can plan all you want, but you know life’s never gonna go the way you want it to.

Surprises. Spontaneity. Luck. All things left to chance. All things Azul attempts to anticipate. He thinks back on the many plans and what-ifs he calculated and wonders if it was worth it.

“(Name), I just wanted to say—” He stops himself, his fingers curling around the gift cradled in his arms. I love you and I want you in my life. I don’t want the world to end here with you and me. I want to know what lies beyond and experience it with you—the good and the bad. Everything. “I just wanted to thank you.”

For being my friend. For being yourself. For existing in the same world as me, even if it feels like we’re doomed to be islands apart.

“What’s this? Genuine thanks? Am I going to find an anemone on my head next?”

“That can be arranged. Isn’t it tradition to grant the person of the hour one birthday favor?”

“Hah! You wish!”

I do. I really do.

The party wears on into the night. Azul repeats the same mantra as before: I have time.

When he’s in his room, gifts piled high on his desk, he sits back in his seat and carefully unwraps yours. It’s a book, leather-bound and regal. It looks expensive. While attempting to approximate its value, he reads the title spelled out with alphabet stickers: My Azul. His brow furrows. Just what are you playing at here?

Cautiously, he opens the book to the first page. Your writing winks back at him: Happy birthday, Azul! This is my gift to you. It’s a chronological journal of your school life! :D People often say it’s difficult to picture themselves through the eyes of others, so I wanted to show you what I see every time I look at you. I hope you’ll never forget just how important you are. If you ever do, open this book to remind yourself.

With love always,

(Name).

“Curious,” he mumbles, flipping the page. The layout reminds him of a scrapbook. You’ve decorated it with stickers and patterned tape, scrawled words in different colored inks. There are two photographs—each from Azul’s second year. He’d forgotten about these. That time it snowed so much the students had a snowball fight in the courtyard. That time an alchemy accident (courtesy of Grim) led to Azul speaking in cat for the rest of the day.

In the center, a small blurb reads: My Azul is terrifyingly good at making snowballs within record time, just as he’s terrifyingly good at marketing them at all the right moments. My team was totally losing. Leave it to Azul to swoop in when he knows it’s advantageous… He’s intelligent and passionate. Even when mistakes occur, he works through them effortlessly. (Although it was nice having Catzul for a day!)

He rolls his eyes at that last bit.

The next page displays photos in much the same fashion. You’ve clearly put lots of effort and thought into each arrangement. Azul feels like he’s walking through a museum with every page. Like the first, the rest of the pages that follow include photographs of himself (some with others and some with you) and a short paragraph describing your observations.

His eyes are on the verge of a typhoon as he soaks in every sugared sentence.

My Azul is strong. My Azul is silly. My Azul has the best laugh. My Azul is great at bargaining. My Azul is awkward. My Azul is clumsy (in the best ways). My Azul is resourceful. My Azul makes the best study guides (thank you!!!!). My Azul is a hero. My Azul never gives up. My Azul is a talented mage. My Azul is…

All of these things he’s never heard anyone acknowledge before—have you always seen him in this way? Is this truly what he’s like through your eyes? He finds that hard to believe, and yet there he is on the page, winking at the camera or posing in an outfit from one of the many school trips he’s attended. You’ve added little comments and doodles in the margins and corners. Azul smiles as he reads them.

Noble Bell College sure was something! I’d like to visit again one day…

Vargas Camp was exhausting! I still can’t believe we survived.

Halloween! I want to experience it in the Coral Sea one day. But maybe just for one night. An endless Halloween is too much…

The ceremonial robes are very pretty. They’re so different from the uniforms in my world.

Happy Beans Day! Azul prepares all year for this. That level of commitment is impressive!

Azul reaches the end with watery eyes. He sniffles, so enveloped in a love he’s never felt from any friend before. You care. You truly, honestly care. It’s clear in each and every page—in the words you’ve written. You care about him.

The final page has a blank space the rough shape and size of a photograph. For some reason he understands what he’s meant to do. He slides the photograph you gave him all that time ago from his phone case and pastes it to the space. And then he reads what’s written below.

My Azul keeps all of these walls up in order to protect himself. He’s sensitive and self-conscious. He likes to uphold a perfect image at all times. He likes to keep his weaknesses hidden, his cards close. But then he’s also funny. He’s sincere and gentle. He’s sweet. He’s someone I admire from all sides, good and bad. Even when he’s scheming, even when he’s acting, he’s still Azul. My camera’s captured so many of his moments, which is very apparent now that you’ve made it to the end. But I’m happy to have documented these moments because they showcase everything that makes my Azul himself.

My Azul has never looked “positively dreadful” to my camera. Even on the days where he feels like nothing, my Azul is everything to me. I will always think so.

He’s crying. He can’t help it.

Azul sits there and he sobs.

He sobs until his throat is dry, until his eyes are blotchy and red. He sobs until he can’t anymore.

Holding the book close to his chest, he wonders how he ever managed to befriend someone like you.

An angel. That’s what you are.

An angelfish.

And he’s Azul. Your Azul.

iv. spring - but, baby, i’ll be there. yeah, baby, i’ll be there. it’s been a little hard. i’ve been a little tough. but maybe all along i’m afraid, i’m afraid, i’m afraid. i’m afraid, i’m afraid, i’m afraid.

The air is sweet with the scent of blossoming flowers, thick with pollen. Azul’s chest is light, swelling with excitement. A new chapter is about to begin. In just a few hours he’ll graduate along with the rest of his peers and then it’s off to start another story. For Azul, this is just a continuation of something already so prolific.

He strolls past The Great Seven, pausing briefly to admire the Sea Witch in all of her tentacular glory.

“With this weather, it’s almost difficult to imagine they called for rain.” Jade peers up at the sun, shielding its obtrusive rays with one hand.

“They’re always gettin’ it wrong,” Floyd says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “So annoying. I was hopin’ it’d rain and then they’d cancel.”

“Unlikely. There are always contingency plans put in place when it comes to an event as momentous as graduation.”

“Bleh. Lame. I wanna skip. I hate bein’ in those stuffy clothes, packed in close like a sardine.”

“If you’re absent, you won’t receive your diploma.”

“What a scam.”

Jade simply smiles. Ironic.

Azul turns around to look at them. “Four years… Gone in a blink. Will either of you miss it?”

“It was certainly enjoyable. I admit there are some aspects I’ll miss quite fiercely.”

“Guess it’ll be a bummer not seein’ everyone all the time. I’m gonna miss playing with Baby Seal and Shrimpy.”

“I’ll miss them, too.” Azul sighs. “(Name) especially…”

“You still haven’t told her?” Floyd raises a brow. “You’re gonna leave without sayin’ a word?”

“That does seem to be the plan,” Jade answers.

“I… I’ve thought it over.” He clears his throat. No time for waterworks. He needs to be in top shape if he’s to deliver the opening speech as Salutatorian. Riddle took first place, which wasn’t a shock to anyone. He always did say he’d make Valedictorian no matter what. Azul had been keen to fight him for it, even if it became clear he’d never surpass him. Second place is irksome, but it has its merits. Although he isn’t going to settle with just that! He’ll get first place one of these days. “We’re better off friends.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Is that enough?”

“Is what enough?”

“Her friendship.”

“It’ll have to be.” Azul’s gaze glazes over.

He’s run out of time, but maybe that’s okay. Maybe that was meant to be.

“Well, let’s not dwell on it any further!” He claps his hands and turns swiftly on his heel. “There’s still work to be done.”

Jade and Floyd exchange furtive glances. They know as well as he does that he’s lying.

But maybe that was also meant to be.

— — —

Crowley tasked you with snapping photos for NRC’s yearbook. “Because I am a paragon of magnanimity,” he said, “I am entrusting this very important task to you once more. Take lots of pictures! Don’t miss a single moment!”

You do just that, photographing the graduates as they wait in a room behind the stage, chattering eagerly amongst themselves. You raise your camera to document Azul when he stands at the podium to give his salutation speech. You do the same for Riddle when it’s his turn. The ceremony is grand, ballooning with emotion. You look on with a cheek-splitting smile, proud of every student who crosses the stage. It’s bittersweet. The friends you made when you were enrolled as a first year are now moving on in life.

Time flies. What a whirlwind year it’s been.

When it’s Azul’s turn and he goes down the line to shake the hands of his professors and Crowley, you wave at him from your place in the audience. He meets your eyes from where he stands, and he smiles.

Your camera catches that moment in perfect permanence.

By the end of it all, your face hurts from smiling, your throat sore from cheering, your hands raw from clapping. Grim grumbles at you to knock it off with the sun shower, your tears dampening his fur. You wipe your eyes and sniffle. “I’m happy for them. It’s a good day.”

He forces his head under your palm, allowing you to pet him and cry through it in peace. He doesn’t say anything. You don’t need him to.

While the graduates meet up with their family and friends, you make your rounds. Kalim introduces you to his parents and siblings—all thirty-something of them. You’re in a daze by the time introductions are finished, and Jamil leans over to whisper, “No need to commit everyone to memory.”

“Have you talked to Azul yet?” Kalim asks after everything has settled down.

You shake your head. “Why? What’s up?”

“Just wanted to ask. I know the Headmage wants you to take lots of pictures.”

“We shouldn’t keep you any longer than we already have,” Jamil adds with a curt nod.

You smile. “Congrats, both of you. Good luck.”

“We gotta keep in touch. Promise me you’ll call whenever you can. You’re always welcome to visit, too! Oh, I’ll go check with my parents now! I’m sure they’ll say yes!” Kalim bounds off in their direction.

“Just let me know well in advance. That way I can plan for proper accommodations,” Jamil says, following Kalim with sharp eyes.

“I’ll do that.” You turn to leave and then stop. “I hope you get your vacation one day, Jamil.”

He stares at you, mystified, before a gentle smile softens on his face. “One day,” he echoes. “I hope you’ll find your way home.”

“One day.”

The two of you share a final look before going your separate ways.

Surrounded in such an energetic environment, talking to and meeting families, you find yourself longing for your loved ones. So much time has passed. You wonder how they’re doing. Are they well? Are they worried?

“Aah, it’s Shrimpy!” Floyd crashes into you with so much force you nearly topple. He steadies you with a giggle. “Where’s Baby Seal?”

“Left to gorge on refreshments. Hey, since you’re here, can I get your picture?”

“Course you can.”

Detaching himself, he poses for you. You take a few photos, mirroring his good mood.

“Are your parents around?”

“Mhm!”

“Seriously? They came?”

“Course they did.”

“Did they take transformation potions?”

Floyd nods. “Pops does land business sometimes, so he’s used to it. Mama doesn’t leave home much. She’s real bad at walking on her feet.”

“Ah, got it.”

Floyd grins down at you. “You wanna meet ’em?”

“Maybe later… I’ve gotta keep taking photos.”

“I gotcha. Make sure to snap a few of Azul.”

“Right! Speaking of him, where is he? I’ve spoken to everyone but him.”

Floyd peers out across a sea of faces, scanning each one like a predator sizing up his next meal. “He’s avoidin’ ya.”

“What? Why?”

“Why don’tcha ask him when you see him? Bet he’ll have a fun answer for ya.”

You would, if only you could find him. As the afternoon wears on, you begin to lose hope. If he’s truly hiding from you, he’s doing a great job of it. After what feels like hours of walking in aimless circles, you take pause to consider the situation. If you were Azul and you wanted to hide away for a little while, where would you go?

To someplace familiar. To someplace comfortable. To someplace quiet.

He’s pacing in front of Ramshackle when you arrive. You open the gate and step through, taking each step one at a time. Once you’re within a close enough proximity, you make your presence known.

“Azul?”

He startles and whips around. As soon as he sees you, he lurches forward, intending to leave.

You block his path. “Hey, wait! What gives? I’ve been looking all over for you. Floyd told me you’re avoiding me.”

“Floyd doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“But I’m sure you do. So what’s up?”

“It’s…nothing. I merely wanted to tour campus one last time.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you say anything? I would’ve come with you!” You attempt to elbow him, but he side-steps you. “Uh, right…”

“Ah, sorry. I… Admittedly, there’s quite a lot on my mind.”

“I get it. Congrats, by the way. Your speech was really good.”

“I’m pleased you think so.”

This…isn’t Azul, you realize, a frown flickering on your face. At least not the Azul I usually see.

“I got to meet all of Kalim’s siblings.”

“Did you? All of them?”

“Every. Single. One. His family’s huge!”

An uncomfortable silence festers between the two of you. You glance at your camera and then at Azul.

“Can you believe that Crowley? He wanted me to take all of these pictures, but there were dozens of professionals who did it much better than me! What was even the point?”

“Terrible, isn’t it? A job as good as the one you do deserves proper payment.”

“Exactly! My services aren’t free.”

Azul smiles, a wistful gloss to his gaze. You can see the cogs turning behind his eyes—can see the calculation as it comes to fruition.

“You can cry. I won’t judge.”

“I’m not going to.”

“It’s fine. It’s normal, Azul.”

He inhales a deep breath, holds it for three seconds, and then releases. When he looks at you next, his expression is hard and riddled with subdued anxiety. A zephyr blows between you, rustling the leaves in the trees, raking through the grass, dragging wispy fingers through your clothes and hair. The quiet expands and stretches wide.

Azul opens his mouth, shuts it, and sighs. A forlorn resignation flits over his countenance.

“I—” he swallows hard and then it just bursts free, the admission he’s kept secret for so long— “I love you.”

Another breeze combs through the premises. Your gasp is swept away with it.

“I’ve loved you for two years. And I… I wanted to tell you so many times in the past, but I never could. I was scared and I ran away. I still am! The truth is that I’m afraid of losing you. I’m afraid of messing up in front of you and looking like a fool. I’m afraid of showing you the parts of myself I hate most. I’m even afraid of that phrase—of saying it because it terrifies me to think, in some distant world, it might be reciprocated. But I have to say it, and I want you to know. Even if you don’t feel the same, I have to tell you.”

You gape at him, utterly speechless. The longer you do so, the more flustered he becomes.

“Y-You’re free to think it’s gross or weird. I understand I’m not the most ideal candidate, but I…” He wrings his hands, exhaling shakily. “I think you’re everything. My whole world.”

There are so many things you want to say. So, so many. But they’re all jumbled, carried along like flowers floating down a stream in spring. You close the gap, taking his hands in yours, and you kiss him.

Azul startles, squeaking against your lips. It takes a minute for him to find his rhythm, but soon he’s wilting against you, his body relaxed. You taste saliva and salt—tears. When you pull back, he’s crying.

“I think you’re the most ideal candidate. I’ve always thought so.” You cradle his cheek in a warm hand.

A sob trembles through him. “I never thought—you’re just so… I couldn’t have imagined…”

“That I’d like you?”

“Yes!”

“Why?” “Because…”

“I’ve always liked you, Azul. I’d never lie about that. Your birthday gift—those are my honest opinions.”

“Every one of them?”

“Each and every one.”

He sniffles weakly, drying his eyes with the heel of his palm.

Instinctively, you reach for your camera. And then you hesitate. You’ve always stood behind the protective lens of your trusty Ghost Camera, assuming the role of photographer in order to remain in his orbit. But now you’d like to try putting the camera aside and documenting Azul’s moments with your own two eyes.

He loves me.

You just manage to shut the front door before you’re pulling him flush against you. He presses you up against the wall in the foyer, a knee slotting between your legs. You melt in mutual merriment, grabbing at every part of him. Your uniform blouse is ripped open in a hurry. You try to handle his graduation robes with caution, appreciating expensive embroidery, but vehemence gets the better of you. It’s a wild rush. Hot and panting, you’re shuddering in carnal delight, every nerve alight. When he presses up against you next, half-dressed and hazy with an addictive adoration, you can feel the result of your exploratory touches straining for release.

“Upstairs,” you mumble against his mouth, sweating out of your skin.

You fall into bed as one, tangled around each other. Azul trails kisses up the expanse of your stomach, working you open on skillful fingers. You shiver beneath him, your heart pounding in your ribs.

“I love you.” A kiss to your belly.

“I love you.” A kiss to the valley of your breasts.

“I love you.” A kiss to your lips.

You love him just as intensely.

He drags his fingers out next, admiring the slick coating them like it’s a valuable substance. You giggle, dizzy with delirium.

“Can I call you mine?”

You run your hands up and down his arms. “I’d like that.”

“Your boyfriend,” he murmurs, astonished. “I’m your boyfriend…”

“Mhm…” You sit up in bed and climb into his lap. Slowly, inch by inch, you lower yourself. He sucks in a breath through grit teeth. “And I’m—mmh—I’m your girlfriend.”

Azul whines into your mouth. His arms wrap around you to keep you firmly pinned to his body, and he bucks his hips up to meet you the rest of the way. Filled in such a way, connected so intimately, you breathe a satisfied sigh. You dig your nails into his shoulders. Every muscle slackens. It’s bliss, pure and perfect. The both of you mold to one another like sea meeting shore.

You grind down, chasing a mounting climax. “You’re the best—perfect. So perfect. Oh, I love you, Azul. I love you so much. I’ve always wanted to say it.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “You have no idea how fervently I’ve yearned for this—for you.”

You can’t possibly begin to imagine, but you can definitely relate. Weeks of silent pining, of hoping something might happen and you’d be able to confess without fear. Those days are behind you. Now you can know love in his arms and it isn’t so uncertain.

You lose yourselves in the sensations of sweet, soulful sex. He’s gentle like a spring breeze, dedicated like a devotee at your altar. You’re much the same, your moans just as plentiful. Just as loud. You’re wrapped in wonder when you look into his eyes and find the same amount of love reflected back.

I’m so happy I met you.

When he cums, he digs his fingers into your hips to drag you down and bury himself deeper inside. You unravel shortly after, your orgasm coaxed out by a few attentive massages to your clit. Your bodies, sticky and sweaty, stay connected even after you’ve come down from the clouds.

“Had I known, I would’ve said something sooner.” After catching his breath, Azul rests his head in the crook of your neck. “I regret it.”

“I don’t. Things happen when they happen.” You run your fingers through the tangled, silvery strands of his hair. It’s soft just like him. He leans into your touch and hums appreciatively. “I’m glad it happened when it did.”

“I’m glad I could say it. It would’ve eaten me alive if I’d left without telling you.”

“And are you still afraid?”

Azul places his hand over yours. “No, not anymore. The world ahead looks much clearer now.”

“Am I in it?”

He laughs. “More than that.”

“Oh?”

“You are my world.”

#twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #azul x reader #n/sfw

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