#i just think floyd is built like that
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The Most Dangerous Game [1]
yandere!jade leech x (female) reader
cw: yandere, nsfw, slight hints of dub-con, coercion, manipulation, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, friends with benefits, obsession, unrequited/one-sided love, brief angst, choking, pregnancy, implied baby-trapping, characters written as 18+
note - it is never a good idea to make mutually beneficial arrangements with jade leech. // split into two parts due to size. read the second half here.
Even though Floyd has yet to invite you to any of his practices and games, you’ve attended each one like a diligent, dedicated, devoted parasite. You sit amongst a sea of faces and watch him dribble down the court, sweat clinging to every curvature of muscle that composes his well-built figure. He’s glowing down there, a radiant sun that everyone, both offense and defense, seems to revolve around. And when he scores—when his lips widen into that goofy, good-natured grin you adore so dearly—you’re the first to rise from the bench and cheer like a marionette on strings.
For all of your support, Floyd never looks your way.
Why should he? You cannot expect light to acknowledge shadow when both are so contrasting. Instead you’ve contented yourself with admiring him from afar, sectioned off from his brilliance with invisible barriers and walls. He’s something of a celebrity in your eyes—an untouchable, unfathomable star.
He’s the reason you’ve started wearing your makeup a certain way—lavender eyeshadow and liquid eyeliner and the softest touch of glitters upon your skin. He never notices; you never expect him to. He’s the reason you’ve applied for a job at the Mostro Lounge, swallowing the anxiety that comes with nerve-racking interviews and social interaction in hopes of getting hired. You failed both times (you talked too much in the first interview and in the second you didn’t talk enough).
By the third attempt, you’ve made a modicum of progress. You’re certain all is right in your world when you leave the VIP room, still fidgeting with post-interview jitters. As you wander through the glorious tunnel hall, awash in dappled light and mulling over the worth of the position you applied for and whether it’s the best for Floyd-watching, you happen to cross paths with your star.
And he is so bright today.
“Oh, Floyd, hello!”
He turns, assesses you with a fleeting once-over, and then hums his lazy greeting. “Sup, Shrimpy.”
Shrimpy. Even though he hardly spares you the time of day, hearing that nickname—the one reserved only for you—is enough to soothe the sting of cyclical, never-ending neglect.
“We might be coworkers soon,” you tell him, unable to contain your enthusiasm.
“That right?”
You nod, rocking back and forth on your heels. “I look forward to working with you! Um… Maybe you can show me the ropes?”
Floyd considers it, his lips twisting into a disinterested half-frown. “We’ll see. It gets kinda busy and Azul’s always puttin’ me out on the floor. I dunno if I’d have enough time. ’Sides, he’ll probably want Jade teachin’ ya. He’s better at that stuff.”
“That’s okay! I can handle crowded,” you blurt, desperate to reel him in before he can slip through your fingers yet again, an eel in every sense of the word. “And I’m sure you’re just as good, if not better, than Jade!”
It’s worth it if we can be closer. If I can stand next to you, admire you, watch you work…
Floyd stares at your clasped hands. If he notices the way your fingernails—each painted a delicate purple—pierce your palms, he doesn’t comment. His mismatched gaze flicks to your face.
“Ya hafta get hired before any of that.”
“Ah, that’s true. Well, actually, I just came out of an interview. I think I did well.”
“Who knows,” he says, grinning, and your heart sprouts ivory wings, bone poking through organs to shred them into ribbons. Floyd leans in close, his face centimeters from yours, and you can smell the wild ocean that clings to him—the natural scent of his home mixed with sandalwood cologne. You’d devour him if you could, but then that would leave you with a pile of bones and you like the energetic life that is just barely contained within so much muscle. “Shrimpy’d look good in my uniform.”
And before you can boldly cover the remaining sliver of distance, he’s floating away with a mystical giggle, pulled from your proximity by some invisible force. You’d follow him down the hall if you weren’t so overcome with joyous shock, nearly folding in on yourself with a pulse so rapid you fear it’ll ascend into your throat. Beneath makeup so meticulously applied, your face is warming with a ferocious heat.
He said I’d look good in the uniform.
Your hands press against your cheeks to quell spreading embarrassment, and you’re unable to suppress the toothy smile that pulls your lips apart.
No, not just that. He said I’d look good in his uniform. His uniform! Floyd said that. Floyd told me I would look good in his uniform!
The space between ribs and lungs suddenly becomes a cage filled with restless butterflies, each fluttering amidst pearly bone and velvety organs. You replay his words as if they are the finest song, a tune uniquely produced by Floyd, and it sets your heart on a frenzied track. But then it sinks into your stomach when you realize you forgot to reapply the expensive perfume you procured from Sam’s shop. Could he still faintly smell it even with the closeness? It’s sultry-sweet, smelling of vanilla, patchouli, and a handful of blossoms you can’t recall the names of.
You can, however, remember what the perfume is called—Date Night. You bought it solely because you were certain it would be to Floyd’s tastes, but even now, as you yank your sleeve up to sniff your wrist, you realize you have no idea what constitutes a pleasant scent for him. Like his moods, his interests are always mercurial. Today he might like youthful scents. Tomorrow he might prefer something mature. Next week he might hate both.
“Black orchid,” he says, and you whirl to face him, your tongue tied in knots.
“Flo—” It promptly unties itself the minute you recognize who stands before you. “Oh, it’s just you, Jade.”
“My, how dejected you sound. Have I made you unhappy?”
“Not at all. I just…thought you were Floyd for a minute.”
“Most often do.”
“Right.” You fold your arms behind your back, looking anywhere that isn’t at him. “Um… Could I trouble you with something?”
“I suppose I have enough time to lend a listening ear.”
“Okay, so I was interviewed again for a server position and I think I did well, but I’m still not sure if it was well enough. That’s why I’m hoping you might be able to put in a good word for me. Since you’re close with Azul, you know.”
“I wouldn’t say we’re as close as you think.”
You cut through him with a sharp scowl, unamused with whatever game he’s playing. “This is important.”
“As is the distinction in how we define closeness. Is it a matter of time that molds a bond, or is it a matter of physical proximity? For example, our proximity allows me to make note of your perfume. Would that make us just as close, if not closer, than where I stand with Azul?”
Your brow furrows, but then you’re grasping at his lapels, eyes wide and crazed. “You noticed?! Do you think Floyd would notice? Does he like black orchids?”
“He has a keen nose, yes.”
“But…”
Jade tilts his head at you, his hands closing around yours and expertly peeling them off. He smooths the nonexistent wrinkles in his blazer. “There is no but.”
“But Floyd can’t identify flowers and he might not appreciate it like you do.” You peer at him, frowning. “There is a but. Two buts.”
“Ah, you know him well.”
“Hardly. I don’t even know if he likes this kind of perfume.”
“Have you tried asking?”
You open your mouth to answer—yes, yes of course!—but the lie sticks in your throat.
“My record is five minutes,” you say instead, which is arguably more telling than the inquiry you’ve left unanswered.
Jade raises a perfect eyebrow. “You keep track?”
“He usually gives me five minutes or however long his interest in me lasts. Sometimes he doesn’t even spare me a glance. I go to all of his games and practices. I cheer the loudest. I make sure to offer him a water bottle and towel after everything’s over. Still, no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I’m only afforded a few minutes.”
“How unfortunate.”
“You don’t sound very sympathetic.”
Jade chuckles. “Am I meant to?”
Cold-hearted ass. Floyd would never be this mean to me.
You almost give him the pleasure of an icy retort, but you catch yourself. “Can you please just tell Azul to seriously consider me? I want to work at the lounge! And isn’t he always saying he could use more help? Well, here I am—and it’s all willing. No trick contracts necessary.”
Jade hums, stepping around you to assess…something. You aren’t quite sure what that something is, but after a moment of silence he looks at you and says, “The Mostro Lounge is an establishment, not a place for play.”
“I wouldn’t play. I’d work.”
“Work and play are essentially the same when you’re so blinded by certain distractions.”
Unsurprisingly, he sees through your motives. Jade has always been perceptive as a pinpoint, slicing to the heart of matters until the bitter truths leak out. Although your interest in Floyd has never been secret, it’s still troublesome that you can’t fool him with excuses.
Your shoulders deflate. “How else am I supposed to get closer to Floyd? I can’t join the basketball team and I might not get hired for the lounge. I can’t even transfer to Octavinelle either because I’m head of Ramshackle! This is so unfair.” To cement the complaint, you scuff your shoe against the tiles, huffing noisily. “I’m a loyal customer, too! I always pay the one drink minimum when I visit, and sometimes I get more than one just so Azul won’t kick me out for loitering. I even have the menu and its prices memorized by heart! I’d be a perfect worker.”
“And yet your only motivation for wanting to work is to see Floyd during his shifts.”
“Exactly! He served me once, you know. It was a really good day…”
You sigh, smiling dreamily as the memory surfaces like foam on a rising tide. He’d balanced the drink on a silver tray, weaving smoothly through the aisle spotted with servers and customers alike, and there was a certain bounce in his step. It was a great day solely because Floyd’s mood was sunny, and when he’s pleased you’re pleased. When he stopped at your table, he set the drink down—a fizzy slush dyed blue and purple—and said, “Shrimpy likes sweet stuff, yeah?”
Not always, you thought, but you nodded and wrapped your fingers around the cold glass, savoring his voice more than the pretty presentation itself. You purchased this one solely because it reminded you of the Coral Sea and its ice floes during winter. Floyd didn’t seem to make the connection, but you didn’t expect him to. Just knowing he was the one handling your beverage was enough for you. You must have been admiring him for too long because he was smiling the next moment, one arm draped over the booth so he could observe you much closer than before. You’d shrunk into the booth, fearing he’d taken issue with such blatant staring.
And then he giggled, angling his head in that cute, childish way. “Shrimpy’s eyes are reeeal pretty.” He hummed to himself, seeming satisfied with your mute shock. “Just like shiny stones.”
If you had been sipping, you’re certain the fruity liquid would have gone down with a choke. Before you could insist on an elaboration—what sort of stone? Why do you say that? Are they really that pretty?—he was slinking away, practically sparkling with a potent thrill.
For the rest of the time you spent in the lounge, your heart was packed full of feathers.
“He said my eyes were pretty. Isn’t that just wonderful?”
“It’s the truth,” Jade echoes, a hand held over his heart. “When the light hits your eyes at the right—”
“Oh!” Your exclamation seems to startle him, but you pay it no mind. “Azul probably thinks I’ll be subpar because of my interest in Floyd, but if I can prove that I won’t be distracted he’ll definitely hire me!”
“I…” He pauses, furrows his brows briefly, and then assumes his usual countenance. You miss the flicker of hurt that fizzles out in his eyes, snuffed like candlelight at midnight. “I suppose it would certainly give you a better chance at securing a position.”
“Then I’ll just say everything I’ve always wanted to tell him and I’ll be able to focus.”
“My, aren’t you a bold thing?”
“You wish. There’s no way I could do something like that.” You clap your hands and raise them above your head in pleading prayer. “So please let me practice on you instead!”
“Practice?” He blinks. “On me?”
“Don’t play dumb. It’s not cute.” Huffing, you reach up and flick his forehead, a daring gesture that might’ve earned his ire if he wasn’t smiling like a scheming devil. “You’re Floyd’s twin. If I pretend you’re him and run through a practice speech, it’ll be easier to confess when the time comes.”
“Do you honestly think so?” His feet carry him towards the lounge, shoes clicking out a rhythm of departure. “I’m afraid I’m not a charity. You’d have much better luck discussing your problem with Azul.”
He’s deliberate in his movements. If he walks away from you, it’ll leave you with a sense of urgency—if you don’t negotiate a deal now the discussion will end here and you’ll never have another chance to broach this subject again. You know his game. You hate his game, but playing it is the only way to get through to him.
He really does look like Floyd when his back is turned, and watching him walk away from you is more agonizing than a knife to the stomach.
Swallowing your rationality, you hasten your steps and seize his arm. He stops and cranes his neck to peer at you.
“Wait. Just…” You scowl at the floor, hot with shame. “Please help me. I’ll do whatever you want in return. Just let me run a practice confession by you and then I’ll never bother you again.”
“You were so confident before. Where’d your bravado go? If you’re going to confess, you must have courage.” You can’t bear to lift your head to view his knowing smirk. “I’m even willing to cheer for you.”
“Stop dragging this out. Just tell me what you want.”
“Now where’s the fun in that?” Lithe fingers curl under your chin to raise your stare to his. His eyes flash with mischief, softening in a way that’s so reminiscent of his brother. And then, as if to inflict even more emotional damage, he adds in Floyd’s nasally timbre, “Shrimpy likes havin’ fun, yeah?”
Oh.
Oh, he’s good.
Too good.
You jerk back so fast that your sneakers squeak on the floor, gratingly explosive in the otherwise empty, silent hall.
“You… You—how did you—” Your heart is thrumming beneath your shirt, a ticking bomb just waiting to blow your chest open. “That was a perfect impression of Floyd.”
“It’s nothing special. I’m merely putting on a voice.”
“No, it’s really special. It’s everything!” You twirl towards the glass, suppressing a squeal. “That was so Floyd! I can’t believe you can do such a good impersonation! Jade, this changes everything. You’re just what I need to make this confession work!”
He stares at you as you spin and giggle like a drunken ballerina. “Is that so?”
“Yes! Very so!” You skip over to him and clutch his hands, grinning like a maniac. “Please help me with this and I’ll do whatever you want. And if I get hired, I’ll pull more than my weight! I promise!”
He peers at your face, speechless for a brief second, before his heterochromatic hues flick to your hands clasped around his. “Very well. I’ll help you, but in return I’d like your assistance with something.”
“With what? Come on, Jade. Don’t be an ass.”
“I would never.”
“You’re doing it right now.”
He chuckles. “I’d like a taste-tester.”
“A…taste-tester?”
“You heard correctly.”
“For the lounge?”
“For my own personal hobby.” He smiles sincerely—or about as sincere as he can get when he’s Jade Leech—and adds in a mournful tone, “Azul and Floyd are rather stubborn when it comes to trying my mushroom dishes, so I would appreciate it if you could offer your time and taste buds in exchange for my aid.”
“Oh. Wait, really? You’re serious?” You narrow your eyes. “Somehow I don’t believe that’s all you want…”
“Are you willing to offer more? If so, I’d gladly like a mindless scapegoat who will do anything and everything I ask without question, a personal assistant who excels in mathematics for calculating the lounge’s monetary affairs, and a—”
“Yeah, I think I’ll stick with being your taste-tester. Those other occupations don’t sound very fun.”
“Then if we’re both in agreement, shall we shake on it?” He extends a gloved hand. You peer at it, hesitant. “Well, how about it? I’ll be your Floyd if you’ll be my Shrimpy.”
“And you promise I’ll get hired?”
“I never said that. However, if you do manage to claw your way into the lounge, congratulations will be in order.” Gracefully, he removes his scarf and wraps it around your waist to draw you in closer. The slightest scent of brine clings to him, but beneath that there are notes of lavender and vanilla. A fragrance that could be Floyd’s if you deceive yourself. With a sly grin, he murmurs in Floyd’s voice, “Ya’d look damn fine in my uniform.”
For a moment, you stare at him, unblinkingly infatuated, before a smile sharpens on your lips. You twirl out of his grasp, taking his scarf with you. Closing your hand around his, you meet his tone-toned eyes and shake firmly.
“I’d look even better beneath you,” you tease, captivating with an addictive, amorous charm, and return his scarf to its rightful place upon his shoulders. “I look forward to working with you, Jade. In more ways than one.”
You swipe invisible dust particles from his blazer and take a step back to admire your handiwork. Before he can get another word in, you’re strutting down the tunnel hall, bathed in whimsical blues, and humming a fluttery tune. Jade gazes at the space you once occupied. He brings two fingers up to his neck to feel his pulse. It’s pounding beneath his touch, a rush of blood and endorphins. With a trembling inhalation, he holds his breath, lowers his arm, adjusts his scarf, and peers at his reflection in the glass. Exhaling slowly, he notices his cheeks are tinged pink.
“The figures for this month’s budget…” he mumbles, continuing on his way, his shoes clicking a steady rhythm upon the tiled floor. He’s calculating the numbers, but they hardly matter when his thoughts drift elsewhere. “The figures for…the budget.”
Gradually, color drains from his face until he’s pale as paper, stoic as stone, but his restless heart continues to run laps within his ribs.
“So this is the kitchen,” you marvel, admiring the cramped space for a short moment before peering at your distorted reflection in a metal colander. “It’s smaller than I imagined.”
“The dorm kitchen is much larger. Keep in mind the Mostro Lounge is merely a sliver of space Azul acquired. It’s only natural that it’s smaller,” Jade explains, as if it’s riveting information you absolutely must know. He’s flipping through a thick cookbook and scanning each recipe. “You should familiarize yourself with the layout if you intend to work here.”
“I’ll do that when I get hired.”
“If you get hired.”
“When I get hired, asshole.”
He tuts. “One of the basic requirements for becoming a Mostro Lounge employee is that you must display a certain level of maturity and respect, both of which you seem to lack.”
With a scowl, you turn away from the array of hanging kitchen utensils. “I have plenty of both.”
“Is that so? I couldn’t tell.”
“Floyd doesn’t have either and you let him slide.”
“Well, of course. I would never police his habits, or lack thereof. Why should I risk relinquishing my front row seat for free entertainment just for the sake of peacekeeping?”
With a petulant eye-roll, you stalk towards the countertop and lean against it with your arms folded. Jade glances at you.
“So why’d you have me come here again? I wanna go back to Ramshackle and sleep.”
“If I recall, you wanted to practice your confession.”
“Here?” When he nods, you gasp. “No way! I can’t confess in a kitchen—of all places. That’s not romantic at all.”
Jade angles his body towards you. “Any place can be romantic enough if you make it so.”
“I’m not confessing in a kitchen, Jade.”
“Not even during the intimate hours of night?”
“Not a chance.”
“In that case, what are your preferences?”
Taking pause, you consider the many locations spread across Night Raven’s spacious campus. Floyd has always been so spontaneous, so it’s difficult to determine which places he might frequent. With a furrowed brow, you narrow your list to four key spots.
“The botanical garden, the locker room, the library, and Floyd’s room,” you admit, ticking each off on your fingers.
“A locker room doesn’t seem very romantically appealing. Ah, might this be a human’s ideal aesthetic?”
“Not exactly, but imagine how perfect it’d be if I caught him after one of his games and confessed! It would totally look like a scene from a movie, right?”
With a halfhearted, mostly distracted hum, he traces a finger down the length of the page and then draws away to procure the needed ingredients. You watch him, noting a bowl piled with mushrooms and a cutting board already situated near the cookbook. Jade flits about the kitchen with the grace of a ballerina, his long legs carrying him to and fro in the small space. By the time he’s returned to the island in the center, you’ve already read through the recipe.
“Mushroom brownies?”
“Precisely.” He smiles at you, his eyes bright under the dim kitchen lights. “The healthy kind.”
You peer at him and frown. “Healthy as in good-alternative-to-junk-food healthy or…”
“Your distrust stings. When have I ever strayed from a recipe? It doesn’t call for hallucinogenic or poisonous mushrooms, so I won’t add any.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
He sets the items on the countertop. “Perhaps you’ll have to watch carefully then. My hand might just slip…”
“I’m supposed to practice a confession. I can’t do that when I’m dying!”
“And in compliance with our deal you’re required to share your opinions on my cooking, so fortunately for you I must keep you alive.” Jade tilts his head at you, beaming amiably, and pushes the bowl of mushrooms into your chest. “Now if you would be so kind, please wash these mushrooms for me.”
Your fingers curl around the bowl and, grabbing the colander from off its hook along the way, you drag yourself over to the sink. “Fine, fine. But please promise these won’t kill me or make me see and feel things.”
“You have my word.” His hand splays across his chest, a genuine gesture of honesty. At least you hope that’s what it is. “Those mushrooms are safe to consume. In fact, the Agaricus bisporus is known to be very low in calories and sugar. You’ll get lots of protein and vitamin D from them, which is why they’re often used in nutritional, plant-based dishes. Hence why they’re a key ingredient in this recipe.”
“Is that right?” You set the strainer down and empty the contents of the bowl into it.
“Indeed. I managed to find quite a few on my last hike and so I’ve been saving them for this very moment.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot you’re in the Mountain Lovers Club.”
There’s a brief silence and then Jade asks, “You were aware?”
“I found out from Floyd during that one time Vargas made us all go camping. He said you were pretty bummed about not being able to go, but you really didn’t miss much. I, on the other hand, did.” You twist the knob and cold water spills from the faucet, wetting the mushrooms and washing away soil and grime at once. “I heard Floyd and the others went up against Vargas. I would’ve loved to see it, but instead I was tied to a tree.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“It was such a lame way to spend my evening. I would give anything to watch Floyd in his mer form. Curse Vargas! It’s his fault I missed the fight!”
“Why not ask? I’m sure he’ll show you if you’re so desperate—ah, forgive me—curious to see.”
“Maybe.” You shake the colander to stir its contents and sigh, reminiscing the few times you’ve witnessed Floyd in his element. “He’s really handsome…”
“So you’ve said.”
“I wish he’d talk to me more.”
“So you’ve griped.”
You whirl to pin him with a hateful scowl. “You’re not helping.”
Jade giggles. “Aw. Is Shrimpy sad I’m not givin’ her enough attention?”
You open your mouth to snap at him—not funny, asshole—and immediately close it. Lowering your gaze to the mushrooms, you grip the handles of the colander more tightly.
“Yeah,” you mumble instead, shaking off any form of shame that attempts to crawl its way up your spine. “Yeah, I’m sad. Really sad! I want to have a genuine conversation with you, but I can never get past feeling so…amazed. Like… Like everything that leaves my mouth—I feel like it’ll sound stupid and then you’ll think I’m weird or boring. I just… I’ve always liked you, but I can never put it into eloquent terms and so instead all I can do is admire you from afar and hope you’ll come talk to me.”
Exhausted from your word vomit, you wilt against the sink. And then, before you can think to turn around, a pair of hands rest upon your waist and you turn to find Floyd pressing himself against you. He smiles and runs his hands up the length of your hips, mapping your body’s shape with delicate strokes.
“No need to be so tongue-tied,” he says, resting his chin upon your shoulder. His breath ghosts over the shell of your ear, wispy and tantalizing. Instinctively, you shudder, pushing back against him, your eyes darting from the hands that cage you in on either side to his face, so close you could practically yank him by the collar and kiss him. “I don’t need fancy words. Just be yourself and talk to me. S’not so hard, yeah?”
“But it is!” you insist with a whine. “It is when I… When you… When… Ugh! It’s impossible!”
“But you’re talkin’ to me just fine. What’s so different?”
“Because… Because you’re just like Floyd and this confession sucks!”
Like a spell that’s been broken, the sensual tension dissipates before it can reach its peak and you find yourself standing rigidly straight between Jade’s arms, the silence only shattered by the rushing water. He blinks, momentarily stunned, before clearing his throat.
“My apologies. I assumed this method would help resolve some of your reservations regarding Floyd.”
You tear your eyes away from him, settling on the floor tiles beneath your feet. “It helped too much. It felt so…real.” With an embarrassed groan, you reach to turn off the faucet just as Jade does, and his hand covers yours like a blanket. You manage a sheepish half-smile. “Sorry for being a mess.”
His features soften considerably. “Let’s split the blame evenly and be a mess together. How does that sound?”
You snort. “That definitely makes the shame tolerable.”
With his hand still on yours, the two of you twist the handle and the flowing water ceases. He seems to remember you’re still holding the colander, for he nods towards it and then withdraws.
“The mushrooms look clean enough. Let’s take a break and bake the brownies. After that, we’ll try a new approach.”
“That sounds good!” Confidence partially restored, you empty the mushrooms into the bowl and skip over to him. “Do you usually forage for ingredients by yourself? Doesn’t anyone want to go with you?”
“Well, Azul doesn’t share the same enthusiasm for my hobbies, and Floyd doesn’t fancy mushrooms.”
“I meant someone aside from those two.”
“Then no. I’m afraid I’m all alone on my excursions.”
You poke at a bulbous button mushroom. “Why’s that?” And then you hastily add, “Never mind. You’re you, so of course no one wants to go.”
Jade gathers a handful of mushrooms, sets them down on the cutting board, and gently pats them down with a paper towel. “I don’t mind solitude. In fact, it’s quite comfortable.”
You pass him a knife. “I’ll join you on your next club thing.”
He stares at you, astonished. “Will you now?”
“Yes, I will! I want to collect cool-looking rocks.”
“Cool-looking rocks…” he repeats and slowly runs the knife through the mushroom held between his fingertips. “You want to accompany me on a hike for the purpose of finding…cool-looking rocks?”
“You’re correct. Or am I going to interrupt your comfortable alone time?”
“For a reason as wonderful as the one you’ve proposed, I’d say you’re more than welcome to interrupt.”
“Hell yeah!” You bump your hip against his, giggling. “Rock hunting with Jade! I can’t wait!”
He peers at your waist for an abnormally long time before asking, “I assume you want to find rocks for Floyd?”
“Mhm! He gave me a pretty stone once and I’ve displayed it on the mantel ever since. I pat it every morning before leaving for class.”
“How routinely predictable of you.”
“Why, thank you.” You procure a knife for yourself and, setting a handful of mushrooms on the board, mimic Jade’s precise actions. “It’s been my good luck charm ever since.”
“If I may pry, why did you take a liking to my brother?”
“If I’m allowed to interrupt, then you’re allowed to pry. For now. As for why I like Floyd… I guess it started shortly after we first met. I thought he was scary at first—and he was—but he’s really sweet once you get to know him. And there’s something so…Floyd about him.” You gaze at Jade. “You know?”
“No, I’m afraid I don’t. Please enlighten me.”
He slides the rest of his mushrooms towards you and busies himself with opening a package of medjool dates. While considering your response, you watch him pit each one before setting them aside to be diced. Eventually, you decide on a solid answer.
“Well, he’s always himself. He doesn’t care what others think. He’s energetic and playful. He’s annoying in the best ways, and he’s really smart when he applies himself!”
“So far you’ve only listed adjectives. I fail to see how any of that explains your feelings.”
“That’s just it! It’s difficult to put it into words. I like Floyd because he’s Floyd. Because he’s entirely himself without any restraint. Because he’s lovable and funny without trying to be. Because he’s always nice to the ones he cares for. Because he’s genuinely, honestly, unapologetically Floyd.”
Jade’s hand slows and with it the knife comes to a halt. His knuckles whiten around the handle. “Well.” He shuts his mouth, stares at the oven as it preheats, and fixes his lips into a thin smile. “Those are certainly heartfelt sentiments. I’m sure Floyd would appreciate them if you told him.”
“But I can’t! I have to prepare myself for the inevitable rejection and I’m just not ready yet. Not to mention, I can hardly hold a conversation with him without sounding awkward! It’s impossible, Jade. He makes me feel stupid.”
“Stupid in love.”
You shove him lightly. “Hush.”
“Perhaps…” He reaches for your free hand, fingers twining with yours. “You needn’t speak at all.”
“What’re you getting at?”
“Body language is a very important facet of moray courtship. I could teach you. Alas, if you’d prefer to do this the human way…”
“Moray courtship?”
“You aren’t aware? It’s rather fascinating to land-dwellers.”
“What is it? Is it like a kiss on the cheek and then you’re married? If that’s the case, all I need to do is kiss Floyd and—”
“Not quite. It’s much more complicated than that. Although I suppose a kiss is just as meaningful on land as it is in the sea.” Jade’s leaning in now, his face centimeters from yours. “Well? Why not tell me all the things you wish to express to Floyd in a single kiss?”
“But…” You turn your face away from him. “I can’t. I’m saving my first kiss for Floyd.”
There’s a stifling silence that fills the space between you and Jade. For a minute, you think he might break your wrist, what with how tight his grip has become, but then it loosens. He runs a hand through his hair to tousle it in a way that’s reminiscent of Floyd’s disheveled style. When you look at him again, he’s Floyd.
He’s not. You know he’s not. You tell yourself he’s not. But tonight he’s temporarily Floyd, and that lie patches an empty hole in your heart.
“Hmm? Savin’ a single smooch for me? Shrimpy’s too nice. I gotta pay ya back for bein’ so cute.”
“Jade—”
“S’not fair to say another guy’s name when I’m here. Ya want me to squeeze ya out? Well, do ya?”
Stop pretending! you think, torn between what you want to do and what you shouldn’t do. But if I practice on him… No. No, I can’t do that to Jade. It won’t mean anything and first kisses are supposed to be special. But he’s right here in front of me, and he sounds and looks just like Floyd. Damn it! Maybe it doesn’t have to count as my first kiss. Just one kiss. Just so I know what I’m working with. That’s all there is to it. A new approach—like what Jade said. Kissing instead of talking. I can do that.
You swallow every logical inhibition, each one burning your throat like fiery whiskey, and set the knife beside the chopped mushrooms. You admire his toothy grin, ignoring the strand of hair that falls in the wrong place, and tug him towards you by both ends of his scarf. His breath ghosts over your lips, and suddenly your entire throat feels dry and your palms are clammy with sweat.
It’s just one kiss.
Your mouth fits awkwardly on his at first, hesitant like you’re attempting to force the wrong pair of puzzle pieces together, and you fumble for a place to put your hands after he’s gathered you in his arms. With your eyelids fluttering shut, you attempt to lose yourself in the moment, in the sounds of your frantic heartbeat as he tilts your head, gently molding your lips to his, and eventually everything clicks into place. You lace your arms around his neck, the stiffness in your shoulders slackening, and part your lips to offer more of yourself to him. Floyd’s a brilliant kisser, all rough edges smoothed out in a kiss that’s so short you greedily pursue him for more.
“Open your mouth,” he murmurs, stroking along your jaw. And you comply, desperate to please, to be all that he ever sees. He laughs, breathlessly alive with energy, and sandwiches your face between large, smooth palms. His thumbs hook into your mouth, prodding playfully at your tongue. “Not too wide, Shrimpy. Else you’ll send a totally different message…”
You’re adrift in his arms, heart aflutter with adoration, brain fuzzy with cotton fluff and static, and you can’t stop yourself from smiling like a fool when you pull away. “Your lips are soft…”
He giggles and runs his index over your plush lips. “Shrimpy’s softer. Sweeter, too.”
“I hope…” You wipe saliva from your mouth, looking everywhere but at him. Your nerves are buzzing with adrenaline. I kissed Floyd. I kissed Floyd. We just kissed. “I hope kissing conveyed my feelings for you.”
“Mm, hard to say. Ya gotta do somethin’ more than once, otherwise it’s never gonna stick.”
“Wait. What do you mean by—”
He’s leaning in again, his lips brushing yours, and this time you’re clinging to him, so ready and willing to have your breath stolen yet again. Unfortunately, before the kiss can deepen any more than before, the oven beeps, shattering the fantasy that’s been building over time. You tear yourself away from Floyd, panting from both the exhilaration and the embarrassment, and gaze at the oven.
“Oh… The oven… Right. Yeah. Brownies.” Flustered, you pat his rumpled uniform—just how hard were you gripping his clothes?—and take a measured step away from him. “We’re baking brownies.”
Floyd—no, Jade watches you skim through the recipe. He presses two fingers to his mouth and traces his bottom lip. In the heat of your inexperience, you nipped at that very spot, your blunt teeth almost clicking against his razored ones. He returned the favor, nibbling your lip between his pearly points, led on by the welcoming warmth of your body pinned to his. Though he didn’t break skin, the thought that he could’ve—that he could’ve tilted your head back, bitten your lips bloody, and savored slick iron—is a delicious temptation.
A faint heartbeat thrums beneath the pads of his fingers, nestled deep within the flesh of his lips. His chest is tightly wound, not yet close to bursting, and when he inhales it’s thorned wire—painfully unpleasant.
He kissed you.
“Okay… Okay. Mushrooms finely chopped. Done. Now… Next—uh. Combine the minced dates and mushrooms. Easy enough. I’ll…put them in a bowl.”
Surfacing from the enchanting trance of the past few minutes, you and Jade soon begin to work in tandem, wordlessly following the recipe step by step. Unlike previous times, this silence isn’t nearly as overwhelming. You’re certain it’s only because the both of you are so focused on baking, too distracted to confront the matter at hand, but a deeper part of you says otherwise. And you’ll never confirm this unless you take a hammer to the ice barricade that has erected itself between you and him.
Sighing, you place a tray now filled with brownie batter in the oven, shut the door, and set the timer. Jade’s stare bores into your back every step of the way—as it has been for the past fifteen minutes you’ve refused to meet his gaze. Now you turn around, and immediately your face begins to warm.
“A-About everything that happened…” you start, watching him as he works to clean the countertop. It’s now or never—say it before you lose your nerve and shame devours you in one ruthless bite. “Maybe it’s asking too much, but can you teach me more about moray courtship?”
His posture seems to become even more prim and proper upon hearing your request. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to—”
“But as Floyd! You have to teach me as Floyd.”
Jade’s hand, which had previously been wiping a layer of almond flour away with a rag, stills. He nods and resumes cleaning seconds later. “Of course. As per our agreement, I’m meant to be your Floyd. I wouldn’t teach you as anyone else.”
“Okay. All right. Cool.” You gather the dirty dishes and bring them to the sink, shaking off your apprehensions as you go. “If I know moray courtship, I’ll be able to craft a better confession. Or we could kiss and maybe he’ll understand what I’m trying to say.”
“In that case, you may want to improve your technique.”
“Shut up! My technique is… Actually, yeah, you’re right. It’s a mess. I suck at kissing.”
“I wouldn’t put it like that. You just need practice.” Jade meets you at the sink and offers you a washcloth. “I’d be more than happy to be your practice partner.”
You scowl at him, unimpressed with his friendly nonchalance. “You just want to see me fail when I try to kiss you.”
“That’s an added bonus.”
Rolling your eyes, you snatch the rag from him. “So how exactly is kissing part of moray courtship?”
“It’s not. Kissing is just a basic form of showing affection. All mers kiss, just like how all humans kiss. There isn’t much significance.”
You stare at him, your fingers curled into the sodden dishrag, and your mouth drops open in disbelief. Jade chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement, and guides your mouth shut with his slender index.
“Now a mouth left agape… You’re dangerously bold, Shrimpy.”
“You… Y-You… You!” Acting purely on instinctive impulse, you cup water in your palms and toss it at him. He doesn’t do anything to dodge, allowing the water to soak through his uniform with a patient smile. “You’re the worst! I genuinely believed you!”
“Obviously, otherwise you wouldn’t have been so willing to kiss me.”
“Not you!” You try to slap him and this time he smoothly side-steps your flailing arm. “Floyd, Jade! I want to kiss Floyd!”
“And you will.” He shrugs his blazer off, folding it neatly, before adding slyly, “In your dreams.”
You round on him, intending to smack him silly, but he catches your wrist. Your face explodes with a newfound warmth and you rip your arm free, loathing his growing smirk with every passing second. Grumbling a slew of empty threats, you distract yourself with the dishes. Jade observes you as you clean a bowl, content to exist in silence once more. It’s a relief for you because you no longer have to battle his scintillating wit or entertain more annoying banter. But the longer you spend at the sink, meticulously scrubbing, the more you linger on the past few events.
You kissed him, and it wasn’t as terrible as you thought it’d be—likely because he was Floyd during that moment. Even the words that left his mouth were so undeniably Floyd, filled with a fondness only he’s capable of twining throughout his speech. And hearing that prized nickname Floyd reserves for you was more magical than any sort of delusion you might conjure in a dreamscape.
Despite the fact that the kiss had been the result of your inability to see through a simple trick, it did, embarrassingly enough, soothe your fear of rejection. If it’s Jade impersonating Floyd, you’ll never need to mourn whether or not your feelings will be reciprocated. And isn’t that just the perfect panacea to your situation?
If it’s Jade, you can immerse yourself in the romance you’ve always wanted with Floyd.
If it’s Jade, you’re allowed to be delusional and lovesick because it’s only a game.
That’s all it will be. A game. A dangerous game, but a game nonetheless. And in this game, both sides can win. You get love from Floyd, and in return Jade gets critique on his cooking. It’s a beautiful arrangement, so why should you spend time regretting and fretting over little details that will sour your fluffy fantasy?
“If you’re actually going to teach me moray courtship—real moray courtship—” you begin, choosing each individual word with the utmost care, “Floyd can’t know about this. It has to stay between us.”
Jade pantomimes locking his lips and tossing an invisible key. “It shall be our special secret.”
You stare at him, brows knitted in scrutiny.
Jade allows this to carry on for an extended moment before asking, “What reason would I have to disclose our private affairs to Floyd?”
“I dunno. Maybe sabotage my chances with him? Make him think I’m weird? Make him hate me?”
“All wonderful ideas, but I’m not that viciously vindictive.”
“You literally are.”
“I literally am not,” he mimics with a sharp smile.
You groan and set the final dish in the drying rack. Wringing excess water from the rag, you pretend it’s Jade. He’s lucky he has his brother’s face, or else you never would have considered agreeing to an arrangement as wildly detrimental as this.
“So why brownies?”
“Why not?”
“Fair.” Drying your hands on your shirt, you walk over to the island, where two stools have been positioned near it. You lower onto the one across from Jade and prop your elbows on the countertop. “You know, I never took you for a sweets guy. Or should I say a sweets eel?”
He chuckles, heterochromatic hues glittering in the amber light. “Confections are rather scarce under the sea, and since I’m here on land I might as well explore all manner of culinary delights.” He leans over the table, nearly conspiratorial, his head angled almost adorably. “Especially sweets.”
“No sweets in the Coral Sea, huh? Then what’d you eat in place of that?”
“Our diets usually consist of a variety of fish and crustaceans. However, at establishments like the one Azul’s mother manages, you can find all kinds of desserts. Sugar is considered a luxury where I’m from, hence why it’s so popular at undersea restaurants. And like most land products that aren’t compatible with water, it’s imported from the surface and stored with magic.”
“Oh, so it’s kinda like fish eggs. They’re a wealthy thing here on land. Except I don’t think fish eggs need to be stored with magic…”
“I suppose that’s one way of connecting the similarity. Sugar is plentiful on land, whereas it’s scarce in the sea. And there’s no shortage of eggs where I come from.”
“That makes sense.” Jade nods but refuses to elaborate further on the subject and so, rather clumsily, you attempt to segue into another topic. “Do you prefer life up here to life down there?”
“Well, I’m always going to be a moray. That fact will never change.”
“But if you had to choose land or sea, which one would it be?”
“If I had to choose between the two… Both are charming in their own ways, each with different appeals, and not every mer is granted the opportunity to live so freely on land.” He hums, considering. “If you were in my position, what would you pick?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “How artfully you dodge the question… But if I was picking, I guess I’d go wherever Floyd goes.”
“Oh?”
“If we’re married, I mean! Or in a relationship of some sort. I’d go wherever my partner’s going because anywhere will be wonderful with them by my side. We’d have fun together, see new things, and enjoy each other’s company. The place is just a plus. What matters most is that I’m with someone I care about and we’re making memories together.”
“How nice of you to confine yourself to such a romantic delusion.”
“Says the guy who avoided answering,” you snap, turning your chin up with a huff.
“Perhaps it’s avaricious, but if it’s acceptable I’d like to choose both the land and the sea.”
“Greedy. Greedy.” You tut at him.
His lips curve up with a sincerity you’ve never seen before. “One day I wish to show my beloved the wonders of the sea, and I hope she’ll be willing to share the beauty of the surface with me in return. But if she isn’t very partial to the cold, dark depths, we could live on the land before retiring to the sea as we near the end of our lives. My preferences needn’t be considered so long as she’s content.”
“Now who’s the delusional romantic?”
“Is sharing a life with the one you treasure most not a saccharine ideal?”
As if in agreement, the timer on the oven pings and Jade rises from his seat. You sit with his question, mulling it over like it’s the world’s most complex mathematical equation. But it only takes your brain seconds to arrive at a truthful answer.
Of course I want to share my life with the one I love. Preferably with Floyd…
But that presents another question: What sort of future would Floyd want? Perhaps he’s like Jade and wouldn’t care where he settles so long as he’s with his special someone, or maybe he has a sentimental attachment to the sea and would rather shed his human form and exist in the deep, spiraling blue. Maybe he’d make an exception for you and keep his feet planted on the ground. There are so many possibilities with him, and each one is more random than the last. The longer you dwell on it, the more uncertain you become. Jade’s viewpoint is so agreeable, but it isn’t Jade you want to spend an eternity with. His words are not Floyd’s, however much you wish they were, and you’ll never know what Floyd wants unless you ask and get it right from the source.
But you can’t because you fear surpassing the boundaries of the friendship you’ve worked so hard to maintain. If that crumbles all because you were too blinded by your heart’s desires, you’d never forgive yourself.
“Why is love so hard?” you bemoan just as Jade places the tray on a cork trivet. He slides the oven mittens from off his hands, sparing you a glance before leaving to pour two glasses of milk for the both of you. And then, after hanging the mittens where they belong, he selects a knife from the block and returns. While he scores the brownies into squares, you watch steamy strands curl up in a hypnotic dance. “Love should be sweet without any sadness. Like a brownie! It’s delicious and makes you happy when you eat it.”
“If that was the case, it would be much easier to digest when it isn’t reciprocated.”
“Right! If I’m able to experience a sweet heartbreak, I can move on quickly.” You avert your gaze. “I hope…”
Sighing, somewhat sympathetic, he slides a plate and glass towards you. “For now, why not start small?”
You take the fork he offers next and poke at the dessert. And then you snort, a wide, silly smile blossoming on your features. “You just want my critique.”
“Indeed. Minus the sob story, if possible.”
“Yeah, whatever.” You stab a sliver of the brownie and bring it to your lips. “Hey, wasn’t I supposed to be a taste-tester? Why’d I end up helping you bake?”
“The results of a team effort often taste more delicious, do they not?”
“We’ll see.” You chew slowly at first, expecting the rubbery earthiness of a mushroom. Instead, you find yourself indulging in the rich taste of chocolate. Humming your approval, you eat another bite. “It’s way better than I thought! To think mushrooms could make a dessert so yummy… No wonder why you like them so much. They’re very versatile.”
Jade’s shoulders seem to droop, as if he’s just been relieved of some terrible tension, and a smile flickers on his lips. “I’m pleased it’s to your liking.”
“Mhm!” You lick chocolate smears from the prongs of your fork. Jade tracks the movement of your tongue, but you don’t seem to notice as you work to polish off the brownie. “I’d say it’s a ten out of ten.”
“And so the judge has spoken,” he jests, sampling the brownie on his plate. He nods to himself. “I agree with your assessment. This dish is certainly worthy of praise.”
You sip from your glass next, eyeing him as he runs his fork through the brownie. “I’m not a food critic, so I don’t know what else to say other than it’s delicious and not overwhelmingly sugary. It’s a fun way to mix mushrooms and dessert. So… Uh, bravo? Go us?”
Jade hums around a mouthful. “Your honesty is much appreciated.”
“Should we save some for Floyd? I know mushrooms aren’t his thing, but he likes candy and we don’t have to tell him the ingredients.”
“So you’d rather lie.”
“Not lie. Just…skirt around the details. I think he’d enjoy them.”
“He’ll enjoy squeezing you once he learns you indirectly fed him mushrooms.”
You slap your hands on the countertop and jump up from your seat. Jade blinks at you, fork poised at his mouth. “Wait! I’ve got it! Maybe a kitchen confession is worth it. I could invite Floyd to cook with me and when we’re in the middle of everything I can confess. Then I won’t have to trouble him in the locker room—because chances are, if his team lost, he might be in a bad mood—and I won’t bother you either if I try confessing in his room—because you share a room. The botanical garden would be nice, but I have no idea when or if Floyd would ever visit. And the library… Oh! Maybe a study session? Or should I try tutoring him? But then I’m also not getting high scores and I don’t know how romantic studying is…”
A laugh that sounds more like a gasp yanks you from your hasty monologue, and your quizzical stare slices through him. He covers his mouth with his hand, his shoulders shaking, and you think you see tears spotting his lash line.
“Forgive me,” he says after he’s calmed down. (You won’t.) He dabs at the corners of his eyes with a napkin. “It was so pitifully amusing I couldn’t contain myself.”
Your glower is as fierce as the humiliation. “S-Shut up! You wouldn’t know anything about how it feels to be in love! I want the location and my confession to be perfect because that’s what Floyd deserves. Laugh all you want—I’m going to confess! E-Eventually…”
“You’ll get there one day. Until then, I look forward to witnessing this spectacle.”
“You’re seriously the worst.” Scoffing, you have enough decency to clear your area at the island before rounding on him, jabbing your finger at him in accusation. “And because of that I rescind my previous compliments! The brownie is a solid eight now.”
“Only an eight?”
“Seven. We can go lower.”
“We certainly can.”
The look he gives you is nothing short of lascivious, and your heart leaps up into your throat. Jade steeples his hands like he’s about to brief you on some confidential mission while his eyes rove your body from top to bottom. Even though you’re fully clothed, you feel vulnerable and bare standing before him.
“We certainly won’t,” you retort, clipped and curt. To give your hands something to do, you check the time on your phone. “It’s late. I should get back to my dorm.”
Jade smirks at your not-so-subtle escape attempt. He gestures to the brownies. “Why not take some for yourself? It wouldn’t be very fair if I kept all of the spoils after you put in the time and effort to help.”
“I don’t want any.”
“Would you take some if I was Floyd?”
“Yeah, obviously. Taking anything from you feels like a trap just waiting to be sprung.”
“How cruel. I mean well this time.”
You’re already walking towards the door. “You keep it. It’s your food anyway. I’m only supposed to try it and judge.”
Jade stands from his seat to meet you at the doorway. You turn to view him. He’s holding the tray like it’s a consolation cake. “Won’t you take a sliver? You can have it for breakfast tomorrow morning. Doesn’t that sound marvelous? A delicious brownie with some milk—the only way to start your day, no?”
“Jade.” Your voice takes on a sultry purr, and you bat your eyelashes at him. His entire body seems to perk up at this, and for a moment he reminds you of Floyd with his tightly wound mannerisms, each one unfurling like a sporadic spool of thread when he’s interested in something. If there were stars in his eyes, you’re certain his gaze would hold an entire galaxy with how they sparkle hopefully. “If I take a slice, will you stop being so pushy?”
A Cheshire smile curls upon his lips. “That’s all you needed to say.”
To spite you—or sweeten your sour attitude—Jade sends you home with the entire tray.
The botanical garden is bursting with vibrant life, housing plants of all species, each flourishing within the sticky humidity that blankets the expansive space. You undo a button on your blouse, desperate to abandon your layers in hopes of cooling off. There’s a book in your hands, opened to a page with scientific names and facts of specific flowers. The one you’re currently searching for is a heliotrope. According to this helpful guide, it’s a beautiful bloom meaning eternal love.
It’s the perfect gift to pair with your work-in-progress confession. And, to make it even more symbolic, it’s purple! If that doesn’t scream Octavinelle, what will?
Now if only you could find this flower. It feels like you’ve already seen every available area in your tireless hunt and still haven’t come across the prized heliotrope. But you’d asked Professor Crewel earlier today and he’d confirmed such a flower exists within the gardens, so you refuse to leave without one.
I’m not looking hard enough, you conclude, fanning yourself. This is for Floyd. I can’t give up.
“Ugh. But why can’t Floyd appreciate flowers like Jade?” you grouse, flipping through the book as you walk, admiring other blossoms under the same letter category. “I love him, but he’ll never understand the significance. Is it even worth it to go through all of this trouble? What am I saying? Of course it’s worth it! It’s for Floyd! Who cares if he’s not interested in flowers like Jade? He can still appreciate the sentiment.”
You turn the corner and look up from the paragraphs of text. At the very end of the pathway, hunched over a metal bench and tending to what looks to be a chunk of driftwood, Jade stands in his lab coat. You stop yourself so fast that your shoes screech against the concrete path and you almost trip. Jade glances in your direction just as you leap out of sight, now hidden behind a tall trellis of thick, twisting greenery.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear…
Quietly, you shut the book and eye your various escape paths. On all sides, plants line the walkways, some growing taller than you. Surely it’s possible to leave without stirring up unwanted trouble. Before you can think to move from your current hiding spot, Jade’s silky voice permeates the air.
“Romantic Blooms: A Guide on the Language of Flowers,” he reads, peering over your shoulder at the textbook’s title.
You don’t flinch, having expected he’d come to investigate. Though knowing him, he probably suspected it was you the moment you entered his peripheral.
“Jade.”
“(Name).” He smiles, ignoring the frigid way you address him. “What a lovely coincidence running into you.”
“I was just leaving.”
“Oh, is that so? I was going to ask if you needed anything, but since you seem to be in such a hurry I won’t keep you any longer.”
It’s not worth it.
It’s not worth it.
It’s…really worth it.
“Actually… Would you, by any chance, know where I could find a heliotrope?”
“Is there a particular reason you’re in need of one?”
“It’s for Floyd.”
“For me?” he mocks, tone high and nasally, while he leans in close.
“Yes, for you.” You poke his chest, pushing him away from you. His smile widens. “Heliotropes mean your love will last forever.”
“Aw. Shrimpy wants forever love with me. Ain’t that adorable!”
“Do you…want that with me?”
“Course I do. You don’t need some silly flower to prove it, y’know. ’Sides, flowers aren’t eternal. It’s gonna wilt eventually. What kinda flower can’t last as long as the thing it symbolizes?” Floyd grasps your chin, tilts your head towards him, and captures your lips in a chaste kiss. When he pulls away, you’re still processing it. “Morays aren’t the monogamous type. Some are. Like my Mama and Pops.”
“O-Oh. Is that… Does that mean…” He kissed me. Again. Floyd kissed me. “W-What about you?”
Floyd peers at you, smirking mischievously, and within seconds he’s plucked the book from out of your hands. “Take a guess.” He slinks away before you can settle on one, laughing as he goes. “S’not a hard one!”
By the time he’s turned the corner, obscured by the foliage, it occurs to you he’s taken your book. Gasping, you hurry after him, not at all offended with his thievery. Rather, when you spot him on the other side of a row of vegetable plants and he challenges you with his typical come-and-get-me look, your heart fattens with adoration, on the verge of imploding like a grand star in a dusky outer space.
It plays out much like a fantastical dream, only this time the distance isn’t as harrowing, and you manage to catch up to him after he takes you all around the botanical garden, giggling the entire way. If you were sweating before, you’re drenched now, but it’s worth it to capture him in an embrace. The hug is short-lived, for you pull away in hopes of cooling down and catching your breath. While you do that, Floyd fumbles with something. He’s cutting a cluster of blossoms with pruning shears.
He offers the flower with his trademark theatrics. “Ta-da! One heliotrope for Shrimpy.”
Gathering yourself, you admire the flower held between his fingers, resisting the urge to cheer. “It’s very pretty. Thank you.”
“Not as pretty as Shrimpy.” Gingerly, he tucks it behind your ear. “Anyone ever tell ya your eyes get reeeal big when you’re happy?”
“Oh. Um. N-No…”
He leans down to your height, beaming sincerely. “Now ya know.”
“Yeah…” Delicately, you run your fingertips over the violet cutting, your whisper swelling with joy. “Now I know.”
Floyd watches you pet it, abnormally still. You’re so used to seeing him fidget when he’s forced to linger in place, a creature unable to restrain his energy for even a moment, that it’s almost uncanny when he stands straight as a board. A large hand, encased in a gardener’s glove, reaches for you and you don’t have the foresight to meet him halfway. Instead, he awkwardly pats your shoulder, seemingly unsure of where to place his hand after it started moving towards you.
“If we were together, I’d give you more than a flower.”
For a minute you think you hear Jade’s deeper intonation slip through. His hand slides down the length of your arm, and his fingers interlace with yours. His stare, filled with forlorn longing, pins you in place. His hands fit seamlessly in yours, as if they were intended to all along. Rather hastily, you slide the gloves off to rid him of his fabric barrier. Smooth, soft digits entwine with yours next. Floyd shuffles closer, caging you between himself and a metal workbench.
“You don’t have to! A flower’s more than enough for me.”
“No, it ain’t. You deserve so much more.”
“Then…” Your breath hitches when he slots his knee between your legs. Nimble fingers slide under your blouse, palming at your stomach. “What would you give me?”
“Everythin’. Whatever ya want. I’d never let ya be sad or lonely again.” He noses your collarbone, sighing moonily. “I’d give you an entire garden of heliotropes if it means you’ll never look at anyone else ever again.” As if realizing something, he sighs, clears his throat, and adds, “I want ya so fuckin’ bad, Shrimpy. I just want you to be happy.”
You reach to pat his head, and he seems to preen at your touch. “I… I feel the same. I…”
I love you.
Floyd’s fingers dance beneath your clothes, mapping every inch of skin as if he’s trying to commit it to memory. He’s slowly rutting against you, his breath hot in your ears. Perhaps it’s the humidity, but you feel dizzy in his embrace, lost in a lustful haze.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he confesses, roughly tugging your bra down until your breasts spill free. He cradles them in strong hands. “Always thought about it when I saw ya sittin’ pretty in class.”
You blink. It’s not a dream. He’s touching you. You blink again for good measure. It’s still not a dream.
“Do what?” A dumb question. You know what he means, but you wish to hear it right from his mouth.
“Kissin’ and touchin’. Ya have no idea how many times I wanted to pull ya into an empty classroom and just…” His teeth graze your pulse, tasting the stuttering beat beneath. “Make a mess of ya.”
“What… What was stopping you?”
“Didn’t think you’d feel the same,” he mumbles, nipping at your throat. When he speaks next, it’s in an octave lower, and he’s lost Floyd’s whimsical vocality. “So I would content myself with observing you in secret. You never noticed I was there, but I saw you. Every single day at every hour, studying tirelessly in the library or sharing a meal with your friends at the cafeteria…” He twists your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, prompting a shuddering gasp from you. “You’re captivating when you exist in oblivion.”
That…doesn’t sound like something Floyd would say.
“Floyd, wait…”
He pulls away to look at you and his pupils are blown impossibly wide, almost as if he’s high off the scent of you, the warmth of your skin under his palms as they wander lower, and the daring thrill of exhibitionism. He seems to snap out of his trance moments later when he offers you a toothy grin. You chew your lip, uncertain.
What was that all about? Looking pretty when I’m oblivious? Watching me in secret?
“All good?” His fingers curl into the waistband of your uniform pants, and for a moment you wish you were wearing a skirt so he’d have easier access.
Feebly, you nod, your every nerve alight with an insatiable yearning. “I’m okay.”
Maybe I misunderstood him. Maybe this is how Floyd flirts.
“Promise?” One hand massages your hip, enticing you to agree.
You pull him in so that your bodies can connect. He hums at the contact, whether in pleasure or approval you can’t tell. “I promise,” you whisper, abandoning logic to breathe him in like he’s the worst kind of addiction. A fatal temptation, but it’s impossible to stop when you’ve come this far.
Floyd giggles and resumes his fondling, closing his hands around your breasts. You whine your grief, mourning the loss of his lingering touch on your waist. Although a deeper part of you is relieved he didn’t stray further in his exploration. Had he done so, you wouldn’t have had the sensible conscience to stop him. You almost direct his touch downwards, but instead your hands grab at his face to drag him up and away from your neck. He fills in what’s left of the space between the both of you, capturing your lips in a searing smooch. This time, rather than flailing about foolishly, you hold him still, savoring the sloppy exchange of breath and saliva. He licks into your mouth, chasing your tongue, and though it isn’t a competition you let him overpower you.
Victory hangs in the air, but you’re not sure which of you has won.
It’s everything you could have ever coveted from Floyd: a saccharine, movie-esque moment in the middle of a flowering garden. For this singular moment, he’s all yours. Your star only has eyes for you and he’s all over you, unable to keep his hands to himself as he ruts his hips in time with yours, panting against your mouth as if you’re the only oxygen source to be found at the bottom of the sea. His touch is firm and gentle all at once, hungrily impatient, and when he kisses you it’s as if he does so with the intention that this may be the last chance he’ll ever have.
Without much forethought, you fumble with the buttons on your blouse, undoing two more so that he may slide it from your shoulders to reveal the oh-so-inviting bareness of your neck.
You catch his face in your hands, eyes narrowed with an unspoken threat. Mind where you bite.
He reads you loud and clear, for he flashes his teeth at you and places one of his hands over yours, his entire body rumbling with laughter. “Why not?”
“Because,” you hiss, shaking your head.
“Then I won’t bite.”
“But…”
“If ya don’t want it, don’t ask for it.”
“Floyd—” His lips brush against your skin and you shiver. “Please…”
“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p.’ Rather than bite marks, open-mouthed kisses pepper your skin. “Next time.”
You intend to object, to plead that you want nothing more than to be bloodied with bites, but he’s drawing all sorts of sinful sounds from the depths of your throat and it’s impossible to voice your disappointment when pleasure’s quickly taking over. You grab his chin and smash your mouth against his instead, determined to out-kiss him—if such a thing is even possible. Floyd giggles, invigorated with the challenge you’ve initiated, and angles his head to kiss you more deeply.
It makes up for the lack of bites, you tell yourself, and the outlandish assurance soothes you. With the way he’s breathing into you as if you’re his lifeline, a buoy floating on rocky waves, he’s shamelessly unslakable. But then so are you when you nip at his tongue, taking it in your mouth until your chest is begging for reprieve, unable to compete with the lung capacity of merman. His hands are still roaming and you mirror his actions, clumsily unbuttoning his lab coat and pulling it from his person. Floyd would never dress so neatly, every button buttoned and tie tied expertly, but you ignore this detail in favor of receiving another starved kiss from him.
Your hands drift lower until they’ve settled over the strain in his pants. Momentarily, you hesitate, your heart collapsing into your stomach.
This is real. He’s actually… Because of this, Floyd is… You swallow thickly and palm it carefully. Floyd groans low in your ear. He bucks against your hand to force friction.
“You’re so cute,” you murmur, tracing the outline with your fingertip, wickedly cruel in your tentative, experimental petting. “All of that from a little—” you put on his voice next, a poor mimic— “kissin’ and touchin,’ huh?”
“S’not nice when you…tempt—ah, tease me…” He shakes his head, stumbling over Floyd’s trademark drawl. He buries his face in your shoulder, gasping when you apply just a little more pressure. “Shrimpy’s so meeean, makin’ me wait for it.”
You giggle and run your fingers through the sturgeon scales hanging from his ear. The disturbance has them clicking against one another. His earring’s in the wrong place, but for today it’s right. So right.
Your lips part in a frenetic smile. Oh, how you adore him.
“Sorry, sorry. I won’t be mean.”
Led onwards by lustful impatience, you reach between your bodies to undo the zip on his trousers. Floyd sighs again, as if your touch is the greatest relief, when you squeeze him through the fabric of his boxers. You’ve always theorized how big he might be, but now that you’re finally approximating his length you’re wondering how you’ll ever fit all of him. The delicious fantasy of a filthy struggle—of trembling around him as he eases himself inside, filling you up thick inch by thick inch—renders your temperature volcanic.
“About moray—” You inhale sharply when he rolls his hips, and the last of your restraint rots away. With your tongue tucked between your teeth, you concentrate on massaging the bulge between his legs with newly restored confidence. “Moray courtship…”
“Mm, yeah… What about it?” His voice quivers against your mouth, wet and wanton.
“What’s it like?”
“Ah. Well… Hah…” He slows his fervent humping and presses his forehead to yours to look you in the eyes. “I’d bring ya lotsa stuff. Food and shiny treasures and—haa… And I’d pretty up the cave. Protect ya from predators. Keep ya comfy and content.”
You imagine Floyd dutifully prowling the perimeter of your shared living space, all taut, lean muscle, senses on high alert, while you remain swathed in soothing shadows. The fantasy is so vivid in your mind that you almost reach out, fingers chasing the distant delusion of a Floyd who loves you more than he’s ever loved anyone. Instead, you grasp the phony. His hands are on your waist, steadying you, and you embrace him like he’s the lover you’ll never have.
“And you’d never leave me?”
“Never. Not once. Not ever.” The promise is made between kisses, each more pleasurable than the last. It sets your entire body aflame with an intoxicating exultation. Tears prick your eyes. “I’ll stay with ya forever, Shrimpy.”
“But what if someone else—”
He places a finger to your lips, silencing what’s left of your doubt. “I don’t want someone else. You’re all I’ll ever want, so there’s no need to worry about things that will never come to pass.” A smile adorns his features next and he slides his finger down your lips to trace your jawline. You sigh at his touch. It’s everything and nothing. Too much and too little. Everlasting and fleeting. “You’re always gonna be my Shrimpy, ya got that? No one else can have ya. Promise me.”
Your face aches from smiling so much, but this time you can’t help it. Those words, coupled with his actions, renew your once-dampened, self-conscious spirit. You drink him in, doing away with hesitation.
“I promise, Floyd. I’m all yours.”
There’s a spark of something sad in his eyes then, but it passes like a short sunshower, swallowed up in a sea of salacity. You fail to take note of it when you’re so busy stroking him through his boxers, imprisoned by the magnetic force of attraction that’s settled between the both of you. He hums his appreciation, sliding his hands up the expanse of your stomach to squeeze your chest. You can’t seem to keep yourself off of him for more than a minute, pulling him into you for more of everything. More friction. More kisses. More connection.
More. More. More.
The steamy press of his mouth to yours is prurient, teeth clicking against teeth and warring tongues, but it’s so addictive. You wish to remain like this forever, savoring kisses and exchanging tender touches. Everything about this version of Floyd matches the one you’ve spent countless nights picturing. You feel enshrouded in cotton when he grinds helplessly into your hand to chase a mounting climax. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to experience—a physical culmination of real, raw love.
Floyd’s pace is frenzied now, and he’s chanting how good you feel like it’s the gospel. He’s close; you can sense it, see it, hear it in the way he gasps and groans. His fingers dig into your sides, just beneath your ribs, to keep himself anchored as he rests his head on your shoulder. His eyes flutter shut, lips parting slightly to reveal the pointed beginnings of his razored teeth, and with just a few more touches and gyrations he shudders through his orgasm.
He’s almost boneless in your arms when he resurfaces, lips pursed in a tight line. His face is flushed scarlet, a rare vibrancy you’ve never seen on the face of Jade Leech.
That’s right. It’s Jade you did all of that with. Jade. Not Floyd. Jade.
But it felt like Floyd.
“You good?” You offer him a warm smile when his eyes flutter open.
He leans into you and then slowly retracts himself. “Ah. Yes… Yes, I’m all right now. Forgive me for getting so carried away.”
You follow the direction he’s looking at to your hand, which is still pressed to his boxers and is sticky with his spend as it seeps through the fabric. Embarrassment trickles down your spine.
“O-Oh! Sorry. I… Um, let me just…” Eyes darting elsewhere, you yank your hand away, intending to wipe it on your pant leg. Your attempt at a carefree chuckle sticks in your throat when he grasps it instead. “Uh, Jade?”
He holds your gaze with startling intensity. For the few moments that pass between both of you, you assume he’s still playing Floyd, but there’s something about his mannerisms that tells you otherwise. He’s distrait, distant, dazed—whatever you choose to call it—and he’s studying you as if you’ve just hung the stars in his sky.
What’s he looking at? Is there something on my face?
“I never understood why Floyd calls you Little Shrimpy,” he whispers, curling his fingers around yours. “You’re more than a tiny, trifling shrimp. To me, you are the moon—hypnotically radiant, a pretty pearl in a pitch-black sea—capable of influencing the very ocean I reside in. And like an enchanted tide heeding the moon’s call—like a fisherman mesmerized by a siren’s lullaby—I’m drawn in by your beauty and brilliance.” He leans close, breath fanning across your lips. “I exist to revolve around you. To drown in you. Forever.”
You stare at him.
It’s all you can do. Stare and pretend you aren’t stunned by this revelation—like it didn’t just sap all of the oxygen from the air. What is he talking about? You’d expect something like this from Rook, who’s known to wax poetry as easily as he breathes. But Jade? Sure, he’s eloquent, but even he wouldn’t say something so…
What’s the right word to describe it? It’s not cheesy; you don’t think so, at least. It’s not heartwarming either. You feel like he might wheedle you into a scheme if you’re readily receptive to his flowery adulation. It’s nice to be compared to the moon, though. But then the moon is forever out of reach, unobtainable for a merman like Jade, who can only ever observe from the sea. It’s a love birthed from the yearning of a gap that can never and will never be closed.
You’re thankful it’s hot in here, otherwise your embarrassment would have been explosively obvious.
“Jade, do you like—”
“Jaaade, you there?”
Upon hearing the real Floyd, the tendrils of the fantasy you once entangled yourself in snap. And amidst the fragments, a dozen anxieties come rushing forth. Hastily, you push Jade away and shove his rumpled lab coat at him. Fear-laced adrenaline has you struggling with the buttons on your blouse. He doesn’t seem nearly as panicked as you currently are, merely hugging his coat to his chest and watching you, smitten beyond sanity.
“Hide!” you hiss, smoothing the wrinkles in your shirt and then cursing when you realize you’ve missed a button. There’s no time to fix it. “Hurry! Before he finds out—”
“Before who finds out?” Floyd whips around the corner just as Jade vanishes from sight. You miss the way he grips his magic pen in a tight fist, pupils blown with a crazed sort of excitement. You’re equal parts relieved and grateful for his swift reflexes, but you’re more grateful for Floyd’s interruption. You weren’t interested in knowing the answer to your half-spoken inquiry. “Ah! It’s Shrimpy! Whatcha doin’ talkin’ to yourself?”
“F-Floyd, hey! Hi! I… I’m just looking around for…flowers.” You smile, full set of teeth on display despite your disheveled and mildly panicked appearance.
Did he hear us? Did he see us? Please tell me he didn’t. Please. Please. Please.
Floyd’s eyes rove over your too-tense form. He leans in close, and you jerk away with a nervous chuckle. His nose wrinkles, and then a curious smile pulls at his lips. You’re certain that can’t be good.
“What… What’s up?”
“Ya smell like Jade.” He’s gazing at your ear now and it dawns on you that the heliotrope is still snugly tucked there. “Didja see him?”
“What? No!” The look he gives you next is so skeptical you almost kick yourself. “I mean, not today I haven’t…” Swallowing another uncomfortable laugh, you remove the flower from its current resting place and crush it in a tight fist. The limp petals flutter to the ground when you release them from your hold. “Maybe it’s my perfume! I… I bought a new one, so I’ve been wearing it a lot lately.”
“Mhm… Perfume,” he muses, grinning up to his ears, his thumbs hooked casually in his pockets.
You’re a bad liar, you scold yourself, ashamed.
“Anyway, why’re you looking for Jade? I can pass on a message if I happen to run into him.”
“Could ya? Thanks, Shrimpy,” he says, pulling away to give you space. “Azul’s been on my tail about him all day. Super annoyin’ with it. Says he needs Jade at the lounge cuz it’s busy or somethin’.”
You intend to say, “So why not go in his place?” but then you realize something unusual.
“Hold on. Is Jade skipping work?”
Floyd shrugs. “Dunno. Jade never skips anythin’ important. He’s got a schedule he follows, y’know? Real diligent.”
“And I’m assuming the lounge is a big part of that schedule?”
“Prolly.”
Then why was he here in the gardens? Did he lose track of time? It’s an impossible thought; you fail to trick yourself into believing it. No, Jade would never.
“Oh. O-Okay…” You fidget in place while Floyd continues to look at you. He rocks back and forth on his heels, seemingly waiting for you to speak up. A minute stretches between the both of you. “Um… Is that it?”
He gazes past you then, at the spot where you’re certain Jade’s standing. “Yep. S’all I wanted to say. If ya see Jade, let him know Azul’s lookin’ for him.” He turns around, pauses, and then looks over his shoulder at you. “Your new perfume’s lame. Ya gotta get a nicer scent.”
And then he’s disappearing into the foliage, shaded under wide, full boughs. You stand stupefied and replay his words in a loop. Out of every detail gleaned, the strangest was Floyd’s claim that you smelled like Jade. You feel foolish for dwelling on it, but it’s starting to eat through your organs with its implications and now all sorts of questions are sparking in your brain. Why would Floyd pick up on your scent? Was he being truthful, or was that intended to make you squirm with discomfort? Is it an unpleasant sort of smell? Does he mean to say you smell salty like the sea because that’s where Jade’s from? But what does Jade even smell like? With the reluctance of a cat near water, you raise your wrist to your nose and inhale deeply.
I’m not wearing any perfume…
Groaning, you bury your face in your hands next.
And I forgot to give him the heliotrope.
You spin around just as a patch of Jade becomes visible, pieces of his figure slowly gaining clarity as the effects of the illusory spell fade. Neither of you says anything, opting to decode the message on the other’s face. You think about crossing the distance to scold him in close proximity, if only to break the thickening tension, but that urge falls away as soon as it comes.
“Do you think he knows?”
“It’s possible. Mages can always sense magic, even the smallest of spells. At the very least, he was aware a third party was here.”
“So you weren’t really invisible then.”
“Physically, yes. It only works on those who neglect to notice or aren’t adept in spellcasting.” He slides his arms into the sleeves of his lab coat, gracefully unruffled. “I thought I’d spare you the chagrin if I made myself scarce. Unless you wanted Floyd to know, in which case I’ll be more than delighted to divulge our secret affair.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. And don’t call it that! It’s just convenient that you’re his twin and can do a good impression. Convenient, okay?”
“Conveniently an affair. Or should we settle for ‘dalliance’ instead? How about mutualism? Partnership? Which do you prefer?”
You rub calming circles into your temples. By the Great Seven, he’ll annoy you to death before you can even confess. You’re buzzing with irritation, but it’s not directed at Jade. Instead, you’re frustrated with your failure. You let Floyd leave. You had an entire conversation going and it fell apart because you sent him away. Because you just had to ask if that was all he needed from you. On top of that, it’s blisteringly hot in here and Floyd said you reek of Jade; and you’re not even wearing any perfume, and you probably smell and look so gross; and your nonstop sweating might be ruining your makeup and—
“(Name)?”
“What?” It’s harsh on your tongue, a demand rather than a question. He offers you a handkerchief. You stare at the pristine, frilly white blur clutched between his fingers. “I’m fine. I don’t need your sympathy. In fact, I don’t want it.”
And then the first tear traces a line down your cheek.
“Oh. Um. Hold on.” You wipe it away with your wrist, sniffling as you do so. “Fuck, I’m a mess. This is the worst. I can’t even… I can’t do anything right. I had the perfect opportunity to ask him or…talk to him—say anything I wanted, change the subject—I don’t know! And I… I blew it. I completely r-ruined it and now he thinks I smell like you, but we’re not even together like that and if he thinks I’m taken I’ll never have a chance!”
“I understand how devastating it must feel, but you shouldn’t let that discourage—”
You swat him and the handkerchief away when he takes a step closer. “Stop. Just…stop. You don’t understand. You have no idea how it feels. Don’t act like you do.”
Jade hesitates, opens his mouth, and then shuts it.
“I love him, Jade. I love him so much, but I don’t know where to start. It sucks. I feel so lost. And… And he said I smelled like you! Does he think I have a bad scent? Am I really that terrible?” You wipe at the onslaught of unstoppable tears and hiccup through a blubbery sob. “O-Or am I boring? Is that it? If I smell like you, does that mean I have a boring smell? But then it was my fault for ending the conversation. And then… And I didn’t even get to give him the flower…”
“You’re far from boring, (Name).”
“But I must be if Floyd—”
“I disagree.”
“You’re just saying that because you can. Because you’re not Floyd.”
“But I know Floyd, and Floyd only returns to those he deems fun or fulfilling. Furthermore, if he thought you smelled bad he would have said so, unfiltered and brutally honest. As one of his most devout admirers, this should be beginner’s knowledge for you.”
“I know. I know. I—” You pause, brows furrowing, and suddenly it isn’t so heart-wrenching anymore. “You’re right, actually.”
“See? There’s no need to sully your pretty visage with tears and snot. It was just one interaction. There are many more to come, surely.” He snips a new heliotrope from the bush and holds it out to you. “If not the handkerchief, will you accept this and try again?”
You stare at the cutting, shakily taking it. A wet, weak laugh forces itself from the constrictive confines of your throat. “Yes, Jade,” you mutter, scrubbing the salt from your eyes. “Yes, I’ll try again.”
He smiles, but it isn’t duplicitous. “Please don’t let me keep you any longer.”
“W-Wait, you meant now?”
“Well, I certainly didn’t mean tomorrow or next week.”
“Be quiet, smart-ass.”
“You say that and yet you’ve started smiling. What happened to ‘I’m the worst’ and ‘I ruined my chances’?”
Flustered, you slap your hand over your mouth to curb your growing grin. “I’m not smiling! It wasn’t funny! I… I’m still upset!” You back away on quick feet, ducking around the corner with a final, “I’m still the worst! A total failure!”
Jade laughs into his fist, savoring the fleeting sounds of your soles upon the concrete. As if coming down from a miraculous high, he allows his short-lived joy to ebb away. Sadness soon sets in when he glances at the scattered petals on the ground, and he can only hope the new heliotrope won’t meet the same wilted fate as its predecessor. He’s just about to gather them when you pop into sight once more, your chest heaving as if you just ran a grueling race. He stares at you, a single brow raised. Suddenly, feeling glum is the last thing on his mind.
“Back so soon?”
“I—” you huff, gathering both your thoughts and breath— “I forgot…to give you…a message!”
“Oh?”
“Azul needs you at the lounge.” You wipe sweat from your brow, rushing through the words. “And just so you know—skipping work doesn’t really seem like your style, but it’s not a bad change of pace for you. I kinda like rebellious, sweets-loving Jade who’s greedy for both land and sea. Can’t say Azul will agree, though.”
For once he doesn’t seem to have a clever retort at the ready. But that doesn’t matter because you’re already bounding away, light on your feet as if you’ve just won a lottery. Maybe you have and it’s the premise of a second chance that has you feeling so filled with luck. Jade shakes his head at the foolishness of it all, his close-lipped smile widening.
If anyone’s won anything today, it’s him. But despite this, it feels far more empty than he imagined it would.
You’re humming as you skip along, tracing the path you’re certain Floyd traveled. With the heliotrope clutched in your hand, you dry what’s left of the tears in your puffy eyes and hurry along. You won’t mess up this time. You’re going to give him the flower and then!
Your gait slows to an abrupt halt. And then… And then what? You’ll have to say something else. You can’t just wordlessly bestow a flower to the love of your life and think that’s enough. Great Seven, you’re not even prepared!
For a small, vulnerable second you consider turning back and returning to Jade to get his opinion on this predicament. He knows Floyd best; he’d have plenty of advice. But you don’t want to face him. Not after everything that happened. Reminders of your intimacy with him creep in like an intrusive thought, overwhelming with its lewd imagery. You can’t believe you allowed it to go that far—to stray into a territory you’ve never navigated before. Kissing is one thing. Working Jade towards his orgasm is another.
There’s a bingo card for this, surely. An invisible one you’re steadily marking off as you go: Kissing with Jade? Check. Feeling certain assets below the belt? Check. Being compared to a celestial body, which is arguably the most romantic thing anyone’s ever told you in all of the years you’ve lived your life? That’s oddly specific, but it’s on the card. Check.
It’s a bingo card for a mutually beneficial partnership. Not the kind for a pair of lovers. Definitely not.
You’d mourn your inability to draw significant boundaries if it weren’t for the fraction of yourself that hungers for the attention, drinking it in like it’s a frosty glass of water on a humid night. It’s wrong to fool yourself over and over—inane, even. Why would you subject yourself to this torture if you know what waits for you at the end of this: heartbreak at the hands of delusion? You shouldn’t use Jade like this either. That’s also wrong, but he’s so accessible. So willing to indulge you. It’s a fair trade. A fair game. No one gets hurt. No one wins and no one loses.
But then fairness is never promised in a trade with Jade—with anyone from Octavinelle, really. You fall into the especially desperate souls category and so your situation is very different from those who look for easy academic cheats or social hacks.
Shaking your head, you free yourself of these thoughts, pushing each one aside as if wading through murky water, and trudge onwards. There’s no point in dwelling on what’s already happened.
It’s not even real intimacy, you remind yourself, hardening your heart. It’s just physical. We both agreed to help each other. He’ll role-play as Floyd and we’ll go from there. It’s Jade who’s being weird with his silver tongue and stupid poetry.
“The moon, huh…” you mutter, twirling the heliotrope between your fingers. “That’s a first…”
Nice try, Jade. A few hollow compliments aren’t going to convince me to be gentler when I rate your mushroom dishes.
Your feet take you across the bridge, leaving the botanical garden and the alchemy workshop far behind, to the cobbles that extend past the Hall of Mirrors and towards a stone staircase. You take each step one at a time until you’re standing in front of the Mystery Shop. Surprisingly enough—or maybe it’s not because you were hoping for this—Floyd’s there, leaning against a tree trunk and scrolling on his phone. Your arrival seems to pull him from whatever was occupying him on his screen, for he glances up at you.
You shake off every nerve that tightens at the premise of interacting with him. Pretend he’s Jade. I talk to Jade just fine, so maybe if I can just—
Floyd kicks off from the tree, falling into a lazy step that looks more like a slither as he crosses the distance to get to you. Or maybe you’re paying too much attention to his legs. Either way, he’s standing in front of you now, his phone pocketed and arm outstretched. You follow the length of it, taking notice of the gift bag that hangs from his grasp like bait on a fishing lure.
He’s not shifty like Jade, you think. Okay, maybe he’s a little shifty. But he means well! Most of the time…
“Is… Is this for me?”
Floyd nods and shakes it. “Gonna open it?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Shrimpy’s askin’ lotsa questions.”
“Because Floyd is acting suspicious. What have I done that would make you buy something for me?”
“What if I wanna treat Shrimpy? S’nothing wrong with a little somethin’ every now and then, yeah? I think you’ll like it.”
“That doesn’t sound very comforting…”
“C’mon. Just open it.” He presses it into your hand. “Trust me.”
You roll your eyes, a smile playing at your lips. Pushy just like his brother.
“I trust you.” Cautiously, you stick your hand inside and withdraw a pink box patterned with red swirls. In looping script, the words Cherry Crush are printed. You almost drop the heliotrope in your excitement, and you tear the box open to get to the bottle that rests within. “No way!” You look at Floyd. He confirms your disbelief with a grin. “For me? Seriously? Really?”
“Who else? Course it’s for you.” He tilts his head, watching you a little too closely. “You like it?”
“Wait, I haven’t even put it on yet!” The cap comes off and you spritz some on your wrist. Waving it around so it’ll dry faster, you feel yourself break out into a dumb smile. “Yes, I do like it. A lot. Thank you.”
“No prob. I’m glad,” he says, pronouncing it in a hum. “You like smellin’ sweet, so I got ya somethin’ sweet.”
You catch a sugary whiff and sigh, wholly satisfied. It’s perfect, everything you could’ve ever wanted, and you hope it washes away whatever scent Floyd had previously detected on you. If love smells like Cherry Crush perfume, you never want to fall out of it.
“Oh, speaking of that, I actually got you something, too.”
“Gonna take a guess and say it’s that flower you’ve got.”
“Yeah! I picked one from the botanical garden. It’s a heliotrope.”
Floyd takes it from you, turns it over in his hand, and whistles. “Pretty. Why’s it for me? It looked nicer in your hair.”
Your skin prickles as the memories spring forth.
“Oh. Uh, that… I think it would look much prettier in a vase or something…”
“Mm, nah.”
The once freely flowing conversation halts. You kick yourself for putting yourself in a corner. Why is it so challenging to keep a chat going? With Jade, you could go for hours, bickering and bantering about the smallest details. With Floyd, it feels like you have to carve your insides out just to keep him engaged. But if that’s what it takes, you’ll do it. Anything for Floyd.
“I think it might look pretty in your hair.”
“You think so?”
“Y-Yeah! I mean, purple is such a beautiful color and it matches Octavinelle’s aesthetic. You could even wear it as a pin. Oh, but you’d have to make it into one first. Or you could tuck the stem into the breast pocket on your uniform! That might work best.”
Floyd chuckles. “Shrimpy’s really into this, huh?”
“Oh. Ah. Um… It’s only a suggestion.”
“You like flowers then?”
Mutely, you nod. You can taste your heartbeat in your mouth—frantic and metallic. Or maybe you’ve bitten the inside of your cheek in the midst of your hasty ramblings and it’s the river of blood filling your mouth that you mistake for a heartbeat. Either way, you want nothing more than to curl up in the soil and disappear forever.
“You should see ’em in the Coral Sea. It’s real nice down there. Lotsa flowers and plants and stuff.”
“Oh, I’ve actually seen some of them before! When we went to the Coral Sea to get that photograph from that museum, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember.” He giggles at the recollection. “Good times.”
“You gave us a proper fright. You and Jade. Slippery eels…”
“Had fun doin’ it, too.”
You snort when he flashes his teeth at you, not apologetic in the slightest. “I’m sure you did.”
Again, the conversation glides to a halt. Floyd seems content to stand and stare, and it pains you that you must, once again, direct him towards something interesting.
“Um, Floyd, I actually wanted to ask you something.”
“Sure thing. Shoot.”
“Well… Um, I don’t know if you like baking or anything—or maybe you’ve never tried it—but I was thinking… Actually, since you’re here, I thought that we might be able to… No, sorry. I meant, since we ran into each other, wouldn’t it be fun if—oh, wait! About my interview! Yeah, that. Is… Is it possible I could get another interview?”
If there was a competition to see how many times you could bumble in front of Floyd, you’d take first place and you’d still feel like a loser.
“Mm, I dunno. You’ll have to talk to Azul about it.”
“Then could I talk to him now?”
Floyd nods and steps ahead. He doesn’t look back to check if you’re following, and while you drag yourself behind him poisonous thoughts dig into your skull, threatening to split it open and infect the squishy brain matter beneath.
Why can’t I just ask him what I really want? I said all of those embarrassing things to Jade without any problems. So why can’t I say it to Floyd?
“Shrimpy’s so set on workin’ at the lounge. Why’s that?”
“I need to fill my resume,” you lie.
Floyd nods. You hurry to match his stride, lest he leave you and your crumbling heart behind. “I getcha.”
“Do you know why Azul won’t hire me?”
“Cuz ya don’t have much experience workin’.”
“Hey! I have lots of experience! Azul’s missing out on a very good worker, I’ll have you know.”
“Sure he is.”
“What would you do—if you were the boss, I mean?”
“Hire ya. Then it’ll get a lot more fun in the lounge.”
You finally fall into step beside him, your eyes wide with wonder. “Really? You think I’d be a fun coworker?”
“Yeah, totally.”
Your grip on the bag tightens, courage filling you at once. He thinks I’m fun…
For all of his boasting about being accessible and willing to listen to everyone’s troubles, Azul is unimpressed when Floyd drops you off at his VIP room. Your beloved eel winks just as you step inside, offering you a sing-song, “Good luck,” before slinking off. You were confident for all of ten seconds, but then the door closes and you’re left with Azul, who looks very unwilling to hear you out; and suddenly your not-so-rehearsed speech doesn’t seem so foolproof anymore.
He doesn’t flinch when you rush him and slam your hands upon his desk. In fact, you don’t think he even looks up to acknowledge your boisterous presence, too engrossed in a stack of documents to even bother.
“Azul, you have to hire me! Please give me one chance. I won’t let you down. I’ll do everything you ask!”
“This again?”
“I’m serious. I want to work here.”
“Jade tells me otherwise.”
“What? That I’m not serious?”
“I’d hazard an assumption that you’re more serious about Floyd than you are about contributing to the lounge.”
You gasp, offended, to which Azul rolls his eyes, foregoing his usual lofty decorum. “That is…very true, yes. But I’ll work hard, and I’ll show up on time. I’ll even sign a contract! Please, Azul, I’ll do anything. I need this job.”
He hums, unconvinced. “You do realize it’s not guaranteed you’ll become any closer to Floyd than you already are.”
“I know.” You gaze at the perfume box resting within the bag. There’s hope. “But… But I’m not going to give up. I’ll keep pestering you about interviews until the end of your days.”
Sensing an in, Azul straightens the documents, sets them on his desk, and gazes at you. The atmosphere shifts in an instant with his newly stoked interest, or perhaps he’s feigned apathy all along just to see how far you’ll lower yourself.
“As it happens, there is an open position, if you’d be interested in hearing more.”
“Go on…”
“If hired, you’d join my staff as a waitress. We could use the extra help when the foot traffic peaks, and since you appear genuinely motivated—as wildly misplaced as this motivation may be—I could consider giving you the job.”
“Wait, seriously? You’d hire me?”
“Only if you work as you’ve so dutifully claimed you will.”
“I will! I’m not lying about that.”
“If you were so desperate, you could have looked to Sam for a job. The Mystery Shop is always hiring.”
“But it doesn’t have Floyd.”
“Of course. One-track as ever… Well, if you���re truly so determined, let me ask you something.”
Danger thickens in the air when you spy his sticky smile, but if Azul is all who stands between you and Floyd you’ll take the risk.
“I’m only listening if you’re going to be honest. No strings.”
“Why, that smarts, (Name)! And I thought we were thick as thieves!”
“Not as thick as your delusion, no.”
“How rude. Is that any way to speak to your future employer and boss?”
“We’re getting distracted. What did you want to ask me?”
Azul tuts. “Ever the impatient one. If you must know, I’d like to ask if you’d be willing to make a deal.”
“Yes. Absolutely. Whatever it takes.”
He’s thrown somewhat off course at your readiness. But before you can take his momentary hesitation and twist the conversation in your favor, he recovers with an admirable level of poise. With an airy chuckle, he plucks his magic pen from his breast pocket and swishes it in an elegant motion. A contract scroll, its contents written in perfect cursive, materializes within seconds. You stare at it, mesmerized by the aureate shimmer.
“The terms are fairly simple. You’ll work your hours as scheduled. You’re permitted to turn to Floyd for guidance so long as you remain focused on the task at hand. I’ll even align your schedule with his if it pleases, but I can’t make any promises that he’ll show up for his appointed shifts. He’s mercurial, you see, but you’re likely aware of this.”
You nod, soaking in the information like a rapacious sponge. “And? What’s the catch?”
“The catch,” he says, eyeing you with predatory intent, “is that you’ll have every opportunity to prove to me that your work ethic is as authentic as you say it is. Fail thrice and you’ll lose your job and, consequently, your chance at currying favor with Floyd.”
“That’s all? Sounds oddly safe coming from you.”
“Oh, did you think I was finished?” He chuckles and withdraws a vial from his desk drawer. The colorless liquid inside the glass sloshes when he sets it down.
“What’s that?”
“A potion.”
“I know that. I mean, what’s it supposed to be a potion for? Is it a love potion?” You gasp and hurry to snatch it from the desk. Azul beats you to it, levitating it out of your reach with a swish of his magic pen. “Seriously, what is it? I’ll drink it if that’s what you want, but I need to know what I’m working with.”
“It’s meant for you, yes. I’ll need you to add part of yourself to the mixture and let it sit for, say, a few minutes. Three should suffice. Then you’ll be free to drink it.”
“What should I add?”
“Let me phrase it this way—what are you most comfortable drinking? Blood? Saliva? Something else?”
Your face falls and he laughs. “That doesn’t sound appetizing whatsoever.”
“Most potions never are, but this one is special.”
“Special how?”
“A lady of many questions, aren’t you?”
“Forgive me for being cautious, but you’re a man of many tricks and lies. Can you blame me for being suspicious?”
“If that’s the case, shall I call Floyd in here and have him give you the overview? Would that ease your worries?”
“Absolu—wait, no. No, not at all. I’m focused on working!” You open your palm to receive the fishbone pen he offers, its tip already submerged in pitch-black ink. “Work is in my brain. Not Floyd. I promise.”
“We’ll see.” Azul places the vial on the desk once more, its foggy opacity an unsolved mystery. “To review: You’ll work for me, show me that you’re not just here to follow a fluffy daydream—” his nose scrunches at that phrasing, as if it leaves a foul taste on his tongue— “and in return I shall so graciously provide you with plentiful opportunities to be near Floyd. You’ll also be expected to drink that potion at some point and retrieve a few things while under its effects. More on that at a later date.”
That sounds so suspicious! Is he even hearing himself?
“And if I mess up three times, that’s it? I’m fired?”
“Three strikes and you’re out, as they say.” He smiles and gestures to the contract lying before you, an empty line awaiting a hasty signature. “Do we have a deal?”
You stare between the perfume and the scroll. Exhaling slowly, you steel yourself and scrawl your name in messy script. The dim lighting contorts his enthused features into something devilish. Before you can even think to peruse the contract for its fine print—a trademark of any Azul Ashengrotto contract—the parchment rolls itself up and vanishes in a fantastical poof.
“A pleasure doing business, (Name). Should you find yourself in need yet again, you’re always welcome to consult me any time.”
You almost thank him, but instead you catch yourself and say, “You made me wait on purpose, dragging your decision out so I’d come to you when I was most desperate. You were probably going to hire me all along, weren’t you?”
“Let’s say my considerations have been successfully swayed.”
You roll your eyes, a fiery quip bubbling on your tongue, but a knock at the door draws your attention away from Azul.
“I’ll cook you if you’re playing any tricks,” you threaten before swiping the vial and stuffing it in the bag alongside the perfume. And then you pivot on your heel. “Turn you into something healthy. Like an octopus salad.”
“Oh, anything but that. I’m so terrified.” (He’s not.)
On your way out, you pass Jade. He looks partially surprised to see you, his widened, mismatched hues following you for a long, starstruck moment until Azul squawks at him with an impatient huff. You catch his chiding words just as the door eases shut: “Where have you been all day? I would expect this behavior from Floyd, but never from you.”
Your feet carry you into the busy lounge. Inhaling scents of food and drink, you hold your breath and let your achievement sink in.
I got the job.
It fizzles out of you in a satisfied whistle.
I got the job.
And then you’re jumping up in celebration, punching the air with clenched fists, uncaring that students are turning to scrutinize. “Hell yeah! I got the job! Eat your doubtful, hater words, Jade Leech!”
You whirl towards the VIP room, all smiles and giggles, intending to barge in there and rub your success in his face. But then you take a bewildered pause.
Why do I want to tell him so badly?
Is it worth sharing with Jade? Would he even truly care? Something tells you he would—a tiny, nagging something that’s doing everything it can to convince you of a fact you’ve yet to prove. You think back to the night you spent in the Mostro Lounge kitchen, discussing the differences between land and sea while waiting for the brownies in the oven, and wonder if he was telling the truth when he said he’d choose both options. Maybe he only cares about the amusement and the entertainment and not the sentimentality of following a love across land and sea. He’s sly, a natural sycophant, and so that seems probable and much easier to believe.
Still…
“Ah, forget it!” you hiss, choosing to make your retreat now before you can talk yourself into divulging the good news. He’ll find out soon enough. He doesn’t need to hear it from you, but it would be immensely pleasing to be the one to deliver it.
Floyd is waiting for you in the tunnel that connects the lounge to Octavinelle. Backdropped by swirling blues and marine life, looking like a painter’s finest pièce de résistance, he slinks over to meet you halfway.
“What’s the status? Didja get it?”
You stare at him, overwhelmed with love for his unruly charms, and nod ecstatically. Thoughts of Jade and revenge evaporate altogether, irrelevant now that you’re with your star.
“Hey, congrats! I knew you’d get it.” He leans over to wrap you in a harmless chokehold. “This means we’re gonna be workin’ together from now on. Make sure to pull your weight or else I might hafta squeeze ya…”
“Oh! Of course I’ll pull my weight! That and more.” Your fingers curl around his bicep and you lift your head to peer up at him, studying the droopy eyes, the messy hair, the sturgeon scale earring, and the curiosity curved on his lips. He’s perfect. You wish he was yours. “Floyd, can I tell you something?”
He perks considerably. “What’s up?”
You’re inches from kissing him, hoping to confess your love in the most bodily of ways. Rather than acting impulsively you seize his fedora and, shimmying out of his arms, fit it on your head.
Before bitterness can seep into your smile, you strike a dramatic pose and ask, “It suits me, doesn’t it?”
Floyd’s eyes sweep over your form, starting at the hat and working down to your shoes. He grins. “It’s a good fit, yeah. Makes you look official.”
“Officially Octavinelle!”
Floyd’s brows knit together in concentration. He skips over to you and bends down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Now you’re officially Octavinelle. Got the seal of approval and everything.”
You gawp at him, hot all over, and bring your hand to your cheek. Though it was a quick kiss, the feeling lingers and sinks into your skin like a brand. Floyd pulls away, his hat in his hands.
“Cute,” he whispers, stoking the flames even further. “You look just like a li’l shrimp when you’re surprised. You get all small and hunched.”
“I do not.” You swat at him, but you aren’t annoyed with his observation. “Cheeky eel.”
He dodges your arm. “Aw, c’mon. Shrimpy knows she likes me.”
I do, you think. I really, really do.
“You’re delusional,” you say instead, stalking ahead. If you stay here any longer, your heart might just burst.
Floyd doesn’t follow, but his laughter floats down the tunnel hall, cloying like Cherry Crush perfume.
Jade is radiating an unusual energy when you step into the lounge kitchen. Restless is a good way to describe it, which can only mean one thing: Something’s up.
He’s wringing a rag in his hands, features alight with just barely suppressed ebullience. “You haven’t eaten dinner yet, yes?”
Yeah, something’s definitely up.
“You told me not to in your text. Why? Was I supposed to?” Skeptical, you sniff at the air and catch all kinds of savory scents. “Smells yummy!”
He nods, smiling wider than he usually does. You peer at the many pots and pans lining the stovetop, and he steps aside to obscure your view.
“Please close your eyes. I’ll guide you to the table.”
It’s then that you realize “the table” is not the island you ate at previously but an actual table set with a frilly tablecloth, utensils for two, and a vase of heliotropes. You gape at the display, wondering what in the world is happening.
“I don’t trust that. You’re gonna do something weird the minute I shut my eyes.”
“I would never. Not this time, at least.”
“You’re unbelievable. What’s all of this for anyway?”
“For you, of course.”
“I’m not following. Wait… Wait, hold on. Is this a dinner date?”
“Would…you like it to be?”
It clicks then, the decorations and the classy ambience.
“Oh, I get it! You’ll play Floyd and it’ll be like I’m on a date with him. That’s actually genius! I haven’t even thought about date ideas yet, but with this I’ll be able to better prepare myself for when we—”
“You start your first shift tomorrow,” he interrupts, uncharacteristically crass. Although he smiles, his expression is tightened with turmoil. “I believe you’re due for a celebration.”
His startling abruptness aside, you smirk and rest your hands on your hips. “That’s right! I got the job and all it took was patience, persistence, and positivity.”
“Surely you mean to say impatience, annoying the ink out of Azul, and some self-deprecation, right?”
“S-Shut up. We’re not going to talk about it.”
Jade holds a hand over his heart. “Well, allow me to extend my sincerest congratulations. I look forward to seeing how you’ll fare tomorrow.”
“Do you work as well?”
“Azul tasked Floyd and me with training you. He doesn’t trust you to be alone with Floyd for more than three minutes.”
“I wouldn’t trust myself either. I mean, have you seen how he rolls his sleeves up when he’s in waiter mode? And when he’s balancing so many drinks without breaking a sweat… Ah, he’s the best!” Your sigh sticks in your throat when you register the rest of his words. “So it’s not just Floyd training me?”
“Fortunately, no.”
“So you’re just going to be a third wheel.”
“Not in the slightest. I’ll be your supervisor.”
You pull an ugly face at that. Being under Jade’s supervision sounds like a punishment pulled right from the recesses of hell, but it’s not like you have any sort of power to debate the decision. After all, in the eyes of every other employee, you’re just a new hire sitting at the bottom of the ladder. Or, if you want to be more accurate, at the bottom of the sea.
“That’s even worse. Ugh. You’re totally the villain in my love story!”
“Have I not been aiding you this entire time? Surely that warrants a title far kinder than that.”
“Okay, fine. You are…my sidekick—yeah, sidekick—and with your help I’ll get my happy ending with Floyd. Right! Speaking of, he bought me perfume and then he kissed me the other day! Kissed me, Jade! He said it was a seal of some sort. I’m ‘officially Octavinelle.’ Anyway, it’s definitely good progress!”
“Did he now?”
“Here, smell! I put some on before I came here.” You raise your wrist to his nose and he obeys, leaning down to sniff at it. “Isn’t it nice? He said it suits me because I smell sweet all the time.”
“He isn’t wrong. You wear the most delightful scents. Now, that aside, if Her Highness would allow her ever-so-faithful sidekick to serve dinner…”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it. I’m going.” You step towards the table and lower into the seat he pulls out for you. “So what’s on the menu, Chef?”
“I’ve prepared a three-course meal. You do know what that is, yes?”
“I’m not a fool.”
“Sometimes your actions tell me otherwise.”
“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all.” You fold your arms over your chest and scoff. “Asshole eel.”
“Contradictory.” He tuts.
The two of you stare at each other. You laugh first, the sound coming out as a snort, and Jade soon follows your lead. It’s not a particularly amusing exchange, and yet neither of you can cease chuckling.
Jade manages to settle himself before you do, but there are still traces of mirth evident on his face. It crinkles his eyes when he says, “Shall we put this conversation on hold for now? I’m not sure how partial you are to cold dinners.”
You grin. “I’m ready to feast.”
At your request, he serves the appetizer and entrée together. You’re too hungry to haggle him for dessert, and so you simply sit back and watch as he sets various dishes on the circular table. A large garden salad with tongs and a dozen different dressings in small bottles. A loaf of fresh, crispy sourdough bread and a tiny plate of margarine. Two bowls of a soup you can’t name, but one smell has your stomach growling like a starved beast.
Jade senses your blatant staring and looks at you with raised brows.
“Is something the matter?”
“Just admiring the food.”
“You flatter me.”
“Not you.” You struggle to contain your giggle. “Okay, maybe you.”
“Because I look like Floyd from this angle?”
“Mm, no. You look like Jade.” You bat your lashes at him. “And Jade looks very handsome when he’s doing something he likes.”
Jade stands there, nonplussed, his face reddening. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him fluster outright.
By the time you’ve started snickering, he’s already recovered. “You never fail to surprise. Might I ask why you’re suddenly so kind to me? It’s unlike you to think of anyone else outside of Floyd.”
“Consider it my very late revenge. For that time you compared me to the moon, remember?”
“And you claim I’m the vindictive one.”
“You’re not the only one who gets to catch others off guard like that.”
He hums, folding the rag away after setting the final dish down. It’s so wrinkled from his previous twisting and turning of it. “I suppose that makes us even.”
“Hell yeah it does.” You motion for him to sit and he does, stretching his napkin out and placing it on his lap. “Did you really make all of this from scratch?”
“Indeed. That is a wild mushroom and farro soup. It’s a recipe I recently learned. Do tell me how it tastes.”
“No fair. It’s hard to be mean when you’ve done all of this for me. And from complete scratch, too.” Pouting, you stir your spoon through the soup. It’s packed full of sliced mushrooms, carrots, celery, and onions. In short, it smells divine. You’re certain it’ll taste so when you bring a spoonful to your lips, blow gently, and indulge. After three more scrumptious spoonfuls, you conclude with an obnoxious assessment: “The broth is exquisitely…exquisite. And the vegetables taste fresh and…super good. Yeah, it’s really good! One-hundred out of ten! Kinda heavy for a soup, though, but that makes sense if you’re using it as the main course.”
Jade’s smile reaches his eyes. “Thank you for saying so.”
As if those are the magic words, he samples the dish for himself, wasting no time in eating more. You peer through the heliotropes while you reach for the bread and butter, watching him savor his meal. It’s almost…cute.
Almost.
“What’s your favorite food?”
“Octopus carpaccio.”
“How come you’ve never made any for me?”
“I wasn’t aware that the nature of our deal has strayed into domesticity. Shall we get fitted for wedding attire next? Are you fond of rings? How about pearls?”
“Shut up. You know that’s not it.” You spread margarine on your slice before dunking it in the soup. “I just wanted to ask.”
“In case you were wondering, Floyd favors takoyaki.”
“I know.”
His spoon stops at his mouth. Seconds after, he exhales through his nose, smiling behind his hand. “I would expect nothing less of his greatest fan.”
“I’d get perfect marks if Professor Crewel taught Floyd 101. But octopus carpaccio sounds delicious. Kinda awkward to think about it when Azul’s an octo-mer, though. Oh, he actually gave me something—a potion I’m meant to take as part of our contract. Do you know anything about that?”
“A potion? I’m afraid I only know as much as you do.”
“Bummer.” You munch on your bread, contemplating. “It’s not a love potion. That much he confirmed, but he said I have to add part of myself to the mixture, let it sit for a little bit, and then drink it.”
“How curious.”
“You’d tell me if you knew, wouldn’t you?”
“For the right price.”
“Ew, no. Forget it. You’ll just scam me.”
Jade chuckles and fixes himself a plate of salad. He drizzles a tangy vinaigrette over it next, pushing the greens around with his fork so the flavor soaks into every crisp vegetable.
“But whatever it is, I hope it’s safe. I’m sorta in the dark right now. That instruction about adding a part of myself isn’t a helpful clue.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out in due time. I’ll be rooting for you.”
“Please don’t.”
“You never did tell me. How did your second attempt go?”
“My second attempt? Oh, the heliotrope! He accepted it. Told me it was pretty and that it looked even prettier in my hair. That was when he gave me the perfume. I’m just not sure why. I mean, I guess there’s probably not a real reason. He’s Floyd. He does whatever he wants when he feels like it. Still, I can’t stop myself from wondering…” You gasp when it hits you. “Do you think he gave me perfume because I smelled bad that day?”
Jade shakes his head, unfazed by your panicked conclusion-jumping, and continues to eat. “I can theorize,” he finally says, dabbing his lips with a napkin.
“Okay, so do it. Please tell me it wasn’t because of what I think it is.”
“Moray eels have a very robust sense of smell. We can tell many things apart purely by smell alone in the sea. We commit recurring scents to memory, such as that of food or family. Smell helps us return to those we cherish, so it acts as a helpful beacon.”
“I…don’t really get it. Are you saying you use smell to guide you? But you’re on land. Visibility must be easier here than down there.”
“To merfolk, one’s smell can evoke a variety of feelings. When you smell something delicious, does it not make you happy? This is much the same for us, even more so when it comes to other mers. Family smells like home and thus we feel safe and comfortable when wrapped in such a distinct scent. The smell of someone you care for will fill you with affection and tranquility. If that same someone is distressed, we can often smell it. Essentially, smell is special to us in a way that differs from humans’ understanding of it. No matter how far we may stray, we can always follow familiar scents to reach our destination. Our home. Our heart.” His hand splays across his chest to illustrate that last point.
“Wow. That’s…really romantic,” you mutter, chewing slowly. “So smell is like a type of unspoken communication?”
Accompanied by the gentle jazz notes from the radio, Jade’s voice is musical. “More or less. We don’t have to speak all the time to know what the other is saying.”
“Merfolk are fascinating…”
“I could say the same about humans.”
“Yeah, but we’re not that fascinating. Not like that.” You study your warped reflection in the soup. “So he gave me perfume to locate me?”
“He gave you perfume to cover my scent.”
Your head snaps up to look at him. Even though he appears unbothered by this possibility, his lips are pursed in a thin line. You think he doesn’t like this admittance.
“Oh.”
“We’re rather territorial, you see. Relationships in the sea are unlike those up here.”
“Floyd—ah, no, that was you. Uh, you mentioned that once—something about morays not following monogamy. But I’m not dating Floyd. I want to, but even I’m not that delusional. So why would he do something like that? I really doubt it’s a jealousy thing. He doesn’t strike me as the type.”
“Perhaps he just wanted to play. See if I might take notice.”
“So he did it to test you?”
“Amusing, is it not?”
“I…guess?”
I really don’t understand your sense of humor.
Jade reaches for another slice of sourdough just as you do, the both of you seeming to need something to occupy yourselves. Your hand covers his, and for a taut minute you observe him with undivided attention. He twists his hand around to hold yours and something tells you to pull away—to run from this moment and never look back—but you remain, allowing the contact.
“Regardless of his reasons, your smell will always be identifiable to us no matter how much perfume you wear.” He squeezes your hand once and then releases you. “Shrimpy’s left her imprint on me and I ain’t gonna lose that so easily. Not ever. Not even in the middle of a feeding frenzy.”
You open and close your mouth like a beached fish, embarrassment crawling up your spine. You shove a slice of bread at him. “You forgot your bread, idiot.”
He laughs. “How kind of you to remind me.”
You’re the worst, Jade Leech.
You spend the rest of dinner with heavy thoughts, your heart caught in a warring debate. If Jade’s theories hold any water, you might just have a chance with Floyd. Maybe he really does feel the same and smelling Jade on you triggered some sort of moray eel instinct. It’s all you can consider even when you attempt to distract yourself with eating.
Meanwhile, Jade regales you with exciting foraging tales and you try to feign attention, too occupied with dissecting his body language as if it’ll open a new avenue for clues. He’s so unlike Floyd—so different with his hobbies and interests and demeanor. But he masquerades as Floyd so seamlessly, reflecting that same level of capriciousness you’ve come to admire. It’s possible Jade just said something to satisfy your endless questioning. Maybe it had nothing to do with either of your scents after all. Maybe Jade’s just a liar, which isn’t news.
But to say that it was because he wanted to wash Jade’s scent off of me… That’s so embarrassing. So then he knew what we got up to in the botanical garden and he didn’t say a word about it. Does that mean he thinks we’re a thing? No, maybe not. Otherwise why else would he have been so adamant on giving me perfume? But then Jade could be lying, spinning some silly story just to trick me. Ugh, why can’t he ever be serious? My love life’s at stake here.
By the time he’s brought out dessert, a warm blackberry cobbler with scoops of vanilla ice cream situated on top, you abandon all of your conflicting thoughts and focus on enjoying your slice. As expected, it tastes like heaven and you lose yourself in the flavors, quickly forgetting about your burdensome romantic complications.
“Thanks for this, by the way.”
“There’s no need for that. It’s part of our arrangement, is it not?”
“Yeah, but I feel like I’m half-assing my part. You put in all of this work to be Floyd and you’re cooking amazing meals, and then all I’m doing is giving you useless critique.”
“It’s useless, yes.” He smiles around a bite of cobbler. “It isn’t very helpful either, but it is entertaining.”
“Way to soften the blow.” Suppressing a groan, you add, “And you’re also teaching me about moray courtship. I’m not contributing at all.”
“If you’re so desperate to do so, why not share some anecdotes about being human?”
“I doubt you’ll get anything out of it.”
“You never know.”
“Sure. All right. Um…” You stir melting ice cream with your spoon. “Dancing.”
“Dancing?”
“Floyd likes to dance, so I just sorta thought of it.” You chuckle sheepishly. “Uh, did you guys ever dance in the Coral Sea? Is that even possible?”
He nods, his lips quirking up slowly behind the convex of his spoon. “It is very possible.”
“Right. Of course it’d be. Sorry, stupid question.”
“Not at all.” He tilts his head, licking the metal. “Have you ever danced before? Ah, allow me to amend my phrasing. Can you dance, or is that not part of your skill set?”
“I can! I’ll have you know I dance best when I’m trying to impress. And when I’m alone! I’m practically a professional.”
“You’re so practically, professionally delusional. How simple a life you must lead.”
“Not true! Also, rude!” Scoffing, you scoot away from the table, the chair legs squeaking in protest. With a huff, you hold your hand out. “I’ll prove it.”
Jade’s lips split apart in a wild grin, his face tinged pink under the dim amber glow of the kitchen lights. “Oh? And have you prepared yourself for the humiliation that will soon follow when you prove inadequate?”
“I hope there’s enough appetite left in that bottomless stomach of yours because you’ll be eating those words soon enough.” You smirk, cocking your head. “And don’t look so excited. This is a competition, not courtship.”
“And yet they become one and the same under the sea…” You miss his whispered musing, so instead he rises from his seat and bows before you. “Do try to avoid stepping on my feet.”
“Hah! You wish I was that bad!”
“I truly do.”
You brush past him, swaying your hips. The challenging lilt in your voice is a siren’s song, tickling his ears with tantalizing tones. “Only one way to find out, no?”
He stands there, watching the kitchen doors swing shut.
You don’t have to wait long, for he steps through seconds after to join you in the lounge. It’s strange to admire the interior after hours, so empty and devoid of the usual bustling energy it’s known for, but it’s not particularly unsettling. It’s a serene silence, broken only by Jade’s clicking steps as he covers the distance to reach you. Backdropped by the colorful aquarium, bathed in pretty purples and beautiful blues, you really are what the moon is to merfolk: utterly, indescribably breathtaking. Every part of you, from your infectious smile to the way you stand with such confidence, is so magnetizing it leaves him mesmerized.
With a flick of his magic pen, the lights in the lounge dim, giving way to stretching shadows and aquatic phantasms, and the speakers crackle to life. The sophisticated notes of a whimsical waltz come tumbling out. Jade smiles at you, his eyes bright and warm.
“May I trouble you to close your eyes?”
You can feel your own smile carving at your cheeks and so you obey, your lashes fluttering. “I’m trusting you just this once.”
“I shan't let you down,” comes his suave promise.
There’s a mystical tinkle and chime, a bright flash of light that tries to sear your eyelids, and then you’re wrapped up in a soothing warmth. Silk rustles and flutters, twining itself around your body like a boa. The accessories come next, draping across you like an ocean lapping at the shore.
At Jade’s gentle command, you open your eyes. He’s conjured a mirror, which allows you to see yourself dressed in an azure gown, its train swishing with every twirl you take. The ruffles and ribbons, in white and variations of lighter to darker blues, bounce when you, overcome with childish glee, shimmy. They settle in waves, refined in a way that speaks of marble and alabaster. Even the dress’s straps, made of pearl strands and cut out at the shoulders, fascinate you. It’s masterfully crafted, all the way to the snug, form-fitting bodice adorned with more pearls and a pretty bow with a rose. Like a cherry on top, the matching choker is secured around your neck.
Lifting the gown to reveal a pair of shiny black heels, you peer at the frilly white stockings, your mouth dropping open in awe. The mirror is magicked away, and now nothing stands between you and Jade.
“It’s so… It’s amazing,” you mutter, running your fingers over the shimmering fabric.
“A transient illusion befitting my moon princess. Ah, but your attire suggests otherwise… Perhaps you’re more of a jellyfish princess.”
You gasp, flattered beyond words. “Can I be both?”
“Greedy. Greedy.”
“You’re one to talk.” Rolling your eyes, you offer your outstretched hand. The corners of your lips twitch upwards. “Well, will you have this dance, loyal sidekick of mine?”
With his hand resting over his heart, he bows. “It would be an honor, Your Highness.”
The music swells just as his hand closes around yours, fingers twining, and the two of you settle into the proper stance. His other hand rests delicately on your waist, and for a moment you struggle to place your free hand somewhere. He smirks at you, his eyes narrowed in unspoken jeer. Your glower isn’t harsh in the slightest, for your scrunched features give way to a wide, toothy grin when you tug him towards you. His delight is palpable, and he falls into the pace you set with measured finesse.
It’s easy to recount the steps crucial to a standard ballroom dance, and you execute them as if it’s as natural as breathing. The two of you glide effortlessly across the sleek floor, your reflections cast in dappled light. Swaying to and fro like a marionette, your dress billowing behind you, you lift your gaze to his. He’s smiling—truly smiling!—and the sight fills you with satisfaction. You can’t explain it, but it’s so very wonderful to behold a side of Jade that isn’t the reticent walking danger he subjects the school to. Not that that side is bad. For all of the trouble he causes you, you don’t mind it.
You thought you could dislike him, if only to make it easier to pursue Floyd, but rather you gravitate towards the companionship he provides. And not because he’s a phony Floyd, but because he’s Jade.
“See? I told you I could dance.”
“I didn’t doubt you for a moment.”
“Said the liar.”
“My expectations were quite low to begin with.”
Jade twirls you with minimal effort, and you giggle, following the pace he sets alongside the magnificent tempo. You gaze into his mismatched eyes. He’s nothing like Floyd. Tonight he’s Jade, and for the first time that’s much better than any performance he could ever put on.
“I learned back home, but I never stuck with it because I didn’t have a partner to try the routines with. But then I was transported here and I found out Floyd loves to dance, so I practiced in hopes that one day I might be able to—whoa!”
He lowers you into a dip just then. Startled by the sudden change in position, you cling to him while your heart spikes up into your throat.
“Oops.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
Jade smiles down at you, unaffected. “You’re a wonderful dancer.”
“I could’ve told you that.”
“You just did.” He lifts you up, spins you gracefully, and pulls you flush against his chest. “Your body says everything your lips do not.”
“Yeah? Then what am I saying now?”
Standing on the tips of your toes, you hook your arm around his neck and turn to smirk at him. His arm wraps around your stomach, firmly holding you in place against him, while his other hand splays across your chin, guiding your gaze towards his. You hold his stare with a smoldering determination, your hearts beating as one amidst intimate proximity. And then, with his eyelids fluttering to a near-close, he tilts your head further up, leaning down to capture your waiting lips in a soft, soulful kiss.
There are no squirming tongues, clicking teeth, or bloodied maws. Just a precious press of his mouth to yours, an unvoiced declaration of desire.
“That you’re immensely proud,” he whispers, his lips now centimeters from yours, “because you’ve proven my assumptions wrong. More than that, you hoped to catch me off guard.”
“And did I?”
“Why not read my body language and find out for yourself, hm?”
“Sly eel,” you mutter, impressed with his temerity. “You know that’s not gonna work on me. Not unless you’re Floyd.”
“Perhaps not.” Jade spins you out of his hold, disentangling the both of you from your propinquity. “But it’s worth a try, no?”
“A valiant effort.” You pull him along, easing back into the waltz like well-oiled clockwork. Your feet follow the steps in time with the tinkling melody. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Can’t get enough of me?”
He flashes his teeth at you in a menacing grin. “Is honesty not the best policy?”
“It is when you follow it.”
“In that case, we share a commonality.” His fingers crawl up your shoulder to brush the ribbon around your throat. “We’re both liars seeking the comforts of dishonesty.”
“Don’t group me with you.”
“Are you not just as shameless, or am I mistaken?”
“You’re insufferable.”
“Yeaaah? Even though I’m Shrimpy’s favorite? Ain’t I the most congenial?”
Despite yourself, you laugh. “You think he’d say it like that?”
“Not in the slightest, and yet you’d still manage to fall for it.”
“Every time. Without fail.”
Exhaling a disconsolate breath, his smile thins and his eyes cloud over with despondency. “Very predictable.”
The two of you waltz until midnight, exchanging banter and recalling dance-related stories while gliding across an illuminated floor. Your gown falls away in diamond-shaped patches when you step out of the lounge and into the tunnel hall, now back in the clothes you were wearing when you first arrived. You frown when you catch sight of your plain reflection, the fast-paced, upbeat glamour of the evening withering into something slow and quiet. As if it was all but a fleeting dream.
“I can’t believe I’m admitting this,” you say after he’s caught up to you, “but I had fun tonight.”
Jade nudges you. “Ain’t it always fun when you’re with me? You sayin’ this is the only time?”
“Oh, shush.” You return his Floyd-like prodding with some of your own antagonizing pokes. “I had fun with Jade when he’s Jade. There. I said it. You’re not so terrible to hang out with.”
“What was that? I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch that.”
“You heard me.”
“One more time.”
“You wish.”
He chuckles. “I suppose I should return the favor. You aren’t so difficult to manage either.”
“That’s a completely different statement. And so backhanded, too!”
“Was yours not worded the same?”
You roll your eyes as the both of you exit Octavinelle via magic bubble. Pressing your palm against the smooth surface, you admire the endless sprawl of ocean, lit by deep-sea bioluminescence and the few artificial lights surrounding Octavinelle territory. Despite the creeping shadows and occasional darting of sea creatures, it’s prepossessing like a mystery. You’re so absorbed in your ogling, so transfixed by the aquatic scenery before you, that you fail to notice he’s watching you closely.
It’s so pretty… I wonder if Floyd thinks so every time he returns to Octavinelle. Or maybe it’s nothing spectacular to him because he lives this back in the Coral Sea. You spot Jade’s reflection then, your eyes zeroing in on his placid smile. Jade probably thinks the same. Actually, what even goes through his head? I can never tell.
With a contented sigh, you turn to slump against the bubble and cross your arms over your chest. “You don’t have to walk me back, you know. It’s out of your way.”
“No, but I insist.”
You shoot him a dubious look, wondering what it is he might possibly want in return for his act of goodwill. Unable to read his intentions, you resolve to take it as it is: a kind gesture.
“Well, thanks for being so chivalrous.”
Under a velvety sea of stars, Jade escorts you all the way to Ramshackle. You hurry to hold the gate open for him and he catches on to your scramble with pointed perception.
“In case you’re unaware, I am capable of doing good deeds without the need for compensation.”
“You’re such a liar!” you exclaim, shaking your head and ushering him through. “No Octavinelle student has ever said that and meant it.”
“Then I shall be the first.”
You swat at his arm and then skip ahead two stone steps. “Yeah, right. You’re way too opportunistic for that.”
Jade stops beside you at Ramshackle’s front door. “I’ve heard a new hire will be joining us. It would be quite convenient if she was made to do all of the work under the guise of training, wouldn’t you agree?”
“That poor new hire. I wonder who it could possibly be,” you say, your delivery flat and unamused. “It’ll be my first day. Have mercy on me.”
“I’ll consider it.”
You stick your tongue out at him. “I’m demoting you back to villain. No more sidekick privileges.”
“I hardly had any to begin with.”
“Hey! Not true! You—”
Just then, a cacophony of chortles pierce the air. You whirl and find three transparent heads poking through the front door, their features alight with mischief.
“Aah, young love. Takes me back.”
“To what? The last century?”
“Hah! I’m surprised you can even remember that far back!”
Your eyes widen to a comical size. “G-Ghosts?! What’re you doing here? How long were you listening in?”
“Long enough,” they answer in eerie unison, all giggles. Hungry for gossip as usual.
“You finally get your kiss with the Leech boy?”
“Yeah! We were waitin’ for ages.”
“Can’t really age anymore, though, but it sure did feel like an eternity. You’d think we’d be dead by now.”
“Oh, wait, we already are! Hah!”
“Sooo, didja get your kiss?”
Burning with embarrassment, you swat at the three of them, seething through your teeth. Your hands pass through their frigid apparitions no matter how much you flail. They reshape themselves with ease, laughing throughout the process.
“Ew, no! Wrong twin!” you hiss, shaking your head. “That’s Jade, guys. Jade.”
They peer past you at him. He smiles and lowers into a respectful bow. “Good evening.”
“So it is indeed Mr. Jade!”
“Apologies. We mistook you for your brother.”
“Greetings! Fine evening for a little smoochin’, don’tcha think?”
“Stop!” You gasp, your face hot with humiliation. “You’re making it worse! Please go back inside. I’ll be in in just a second.” Your attempt to push them through the door is made in vain, for they can’t be moved or touched. “Shouldn’t you guys be scaring Grim or something? Give me a break!”
Jade catches your wrist just as you attempt to bring your fist down against the door. The ghosts vanish into thin air, their cackles a haunting echo.
You huff, offended that they left before you could scold them. “Don’t listen to them. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”
He squeezes your hand to soothe your bubbling temper. “There’s no need to fret. They’re merely teasing.”
You’re slow to snatch your hand back. “Yeah. Well… Still.”
“Still?”
“It’s awkward!”
“You’ve made so many bold declarations regarding Floyd, so I was under the impression you weren’t capable of feeling even the tiniest shred of shame. If I recall, weren’t you begging to be bitten in the botanical garden? You wanted my teeth in your shoulder, did you not? You wanted ‘Floyd’ to mark you in such a way so that everyone would know—so that they’d see physical proof of our relations.”
Your mouth drops open in horror. He remembers that?
“S-Shut up! Stop talking!” You bound forwards, pushing him down the stairs and towards the exit. Jade allows this, covering each step without scrimmage. “Seriously, you just love to run your mouth, don’t you?”
“You’re more than welcome to remedy that. According to your friendly poltergeists, tonight is prime for kissing.”
“Kiss me and I’ll kick you in your kneecaps.”
“How cruel.” He feigns a pout, eyes glossing over. “Shrimpy’s so violent…”
You’re about to retort when you remember the kiss he snagged at the lounge during your waltz, and suddenly his crocodile tears are rendered ineffective.
You shove him through the gate, refusing to dignify his nonsense with a reply. “Goodbye! Farewell! Get out!”
“Sweet dreams, Shrimpyyy.”
“Yeah, yeah. Good night.” You flick your hand at him in a shooing motion before latching the gate shut. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jade.”
Shrugging off his Floydness, he returns to himself and pauses as if reflecting. He places his hands on the fence and leans closer to you. Without thinking, you meet him halfway. Before either of you can linger, he closes the distance to kiss your cheek.
“Officially Octavinelle,” he reminds you with a wink.
You stumble away so fast you almost trip. Jade chuckles behind his fist, annoyingly kittenish.
“I hate you.”
“You don’t mean that. Shrimpy loooves me,” he calls out in Floyd’s voice as he departs.
“As if, asshole!”
You scowl at his retreating figure until he’s a mere speck. Once he’s gone, you relax and rub at your face. The feeling of his lips is branded into both your skin and memory, and you fear it will remain like that for a long time. Not wanting to think about what that could mean, you spin on your heel, stomp the rest of the way to your dorm, and throw the door open.
“Ghosts, get back out here!” The authority in your voice morphs into uncontainable glee when you spot them peeking at you from the ceiling. You squeal and jump about the foyer, spinning and whooping all at once. “Oh my gosh! I have so much to tell you! Wake Grim—he’s gotta hear this!”
second part.
#yandere twst#yandere twst x reader#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere jade leech#yandere jade leech x reader#yandere jade#yandere jade x reader#n/sfw#tw: pregnancy#tw: baby trapping#tw: choking
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I love the original concept for trolls 3 that Branch was the one that got taken:
- Poppy suffering from No Little Guy Following Her and doing all the worrying for her
- Poppy meeting Branch's brothers and getting all their perspectives on The Fight but not learning that they abandoned Branch as a toddler and didn't come back for him when Branch's grandma died until they meet up with Floyd or later
- Floyd learning that Branch built the bunker from Poppy and Breaking Down
- Branch learning that his brothers are actually here, they actually came to help him
- Potential scene of the brothers fighting again in front of Branch in the diamond bottle
- Floyd lore
- Branch losing his mind on his own
- I feel like Branch would appeal to Velvet more where Floyd appealed to Veneer. Velvet likes Branch, thinks he's solid, they're almost frenemies until Velvet mentions that she's gonna replace Branch with whatever troll comes for him (she knows there's Someone, but she doesn't know Branch was in Bro zone, she just heard him singing by himself on her way to Burgen Town) and Branch immediately starts freaking out because he knows Poppy's gonna be after him
- Branch dying, reaching for Poppy before his brothers
- Poppy. Poppy seeing this.
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I don't like the fact that the fandom makes Branch forgive Floyd just for being the "favorite brother"
I'm a big fan of angst BroZone, they deserve a big kick in the ass.
But I notice that something I find very repetitive that Branch doesn't forgive his older brothers except for Floyd. And it seems to me that it shouldn't be like that, Floyd also has fault for abandoning Branch and I think he's the one who has it the MOST.
Yea, Floyd was the one who said goodbye and all that and blablabla.
BUT, let's not forget that he made a promise to come back for him after he finished his solo career. AND IN THE END HE NEVER CAME BACK. For 20 YEARS he never came back for his brother, and in the movie he didn't even mention visiting the Tree again. (I'm forced to give JD a point) Floyd managed to make Branch believe and they built their hideout.
And I have questions.
-Why hasn't he returned during these decades?
-What was he doing during these 20 years?
-Did he also go to see the tree but when he found the decomposing tree he thought that everyone died just like JD thought?
-Didn't he have any news about Branch after the events of Trolls 2?
-What if Floyd really lied to Branch to not make him feel bad?
The last question is a theory I thought about. Floyd may have said all that to Branch because he knew that he couldn't tell a baby that he would go off to make a life for himself without his family.
Also, if the events of Trolls 3 hadn't happened, I bet on my life that Floyd would still be around without bothering to go after Branch, while Branch would continue to feel that lack of family love and abandonment problems.
In conclusion, make BroZone angst but Floyd also gets his ass kicked.
#dreamworks trolls#This time there's no art#sorry guys#But I needed to say that#I really really like Branch&Floyd angst#It's better than Branch&JD angst#trolls floyd#trolls branch#trolls band together
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Guys. Vil did Ortho's make up with a regular brush and not an airbrush. I'm light headed thinking about Vil being affectionate with a first year who actually wants to reciprocate it.
Ortho wants to be acknowledged as a real boy and Vil gives that to him every single time. He would caress Ortho's skin because of how unnaturally soft it is. When Ortho looks a little peeved at the thought that a self learning automaton can't have soft skin, but Vil clarifies that he meant "for a 16 year old boy. He has soft skin for a 16 year old boy."
When Ortho misses film club meetings, idia tells Vil that he has a bug. Vil's not entirely clueless, he brainstorms with Epel things that he might enjoy while he feels better. They settle on a holographic soup that Ortho delights in downloading.
When he returns, Vil feels around his neck for any remnants of a fever or swelling, his so called "lymph nodes." Ortho finds it all pleasant, even if it is a weird sensation. Despite being built with touch sensors and complex coding to distinguish between touches, most people aren't aware of them. They try not to touch him.
Vil would also fall in love with Ortho's eccentricities. He loves that Ortho is outspoken with his own opinions, especially on the films they create. Vil would tell him that his little synthetic laugh is contagious, and makes him laugh too.
The problem with being created so human, with his own scarily similar humanity, is that he feels grief without the justification. Idia's bad moods can ruin his too, a lack of touch can make him lonely. Being excluded feels just like that.
The small ways that NRC boys, the 3rd years in particular, include Ortho leave me sobbing on the floor. Malleus referring to Ortho as Littler Shroud, using a name that he reserves for living things to address Ortho. Floyd and Jade strong arming Idia into making Ortho feet so he can wear shoes (LOL?) kjasdas post cancelled I can't stop laughing
#vil schoenheit#ortho shroud#littler shroud#twst#twisted wonderland#malleus draconina#floyd leech#jade leech#my babies#idia shroud#twst imagines#mw
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Underestimated
Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x You/Reader/OFC
Summary: Being mistreated isn’t uncommon for a woman working in a male-dominated field, but Bob isn’t going to let it slide when he witnesses it happen to you.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, oral (m receiving), p in v, military/mechanical inaccuracies (I’m assuming), misogyny, etc.
——————————————————————————
For as long as you can remember, people (men) have underestimated you. Starting with your older brothers thinking you were an easy target, though they quickly learned that wasn’t the case. Next, your math teacher overlooked your intelligence because you were female. Your guidance counselor tried to persuade you away from the Navy after graduation because you weren’t tough enough for the military. The RDC laughed in your face the first day of boot camp, saying someone of your stature would never make it through; it sure felt good to see the smile fall from his face when you received ‘Outstanding’ marks in your physical readiness test.
But just because you were used to being underestimated; doesn’t mean it doesn’t get old.
It’s been two months since relocating to your hometown to be the lead aviation structural mechanic of North Island and none of the men you oversee have warmed up to you. The look of disappointment on your crew’s faces when you were introduced was obvious; your name was gender-neutral so they were counting on a male. You hadn’t expected them to befriend you, but you did expect respect; which was definitely lacking.
“A little help over here,” you call out, struggling to not lose your grip on the intake part you were trying to replace.
“Hello? Can someone help me?” You ask again a few minutes later, muscles trembling as it slides further off your shoulder. Not only would it hurt like a bitch if it lands on you, but it’s also not a cheap part if it bends or breaks.
“Equal pay for equal work, sweetheart. You can’t do the work yourself, you shouldn’t be here,” Jackson, the smug asshole, replies while the others chuckle in agreement.
“Fuck,” you grit out, trying not to panic as it begins to fall. But strong hands are helping you guide it into place. The same hands that have been on your mind since he dwarfed yours when he shook it on your first day.
Your attraction to the rest of him has only grown in the time since, along with your feelings; you adore his sweet, quiet demeanor. Natasha keeps telling you he feels the same way about you, but you haven’t built up the nerve yet to make a move.
“I’ll hold it here while you attach it,” Bob says softly near your ear. Your heart races as you do so, getting close enough that you can smell his signature leather and clean laundry scent.
Bob’s brows furrow as he watches your arms shake from the exertion. “How long were you holding this up?”
“About 5 minutes,” you reply, catching him shaking his head from the corner of your eye.
You’re done a moment later, sighing in relief when you put your arms down.
“Thanks,” you say as you set down your screwdriver and wipe your hands. You can’t help but notice how good he looks in his flight suit.
“No problem. Why didn’t you ask for help?” He asks as he wipes off his own.
“I did,” you sigh. “The boys here uh…aren’t too fond of me being their supervisor.”
“Why not?” He asks, perplexed.
“Because I’m a woman,” you reply with a shrug. “They don’t think I’m right for the job because I ask for help with lifting sometimes. Among other thing so I’m sure.”
His expression quickly turns angry.
“What’s up, Floyd?” Jackson says, smacking Bob on the shoulder. “If you need something worked on, you’re better off coming to me.”
“Why’s that?” Bob asks, shrugging his hand off and turning around.
“Come on, you know a woman’s place is in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant,” Jackson jokes.
But you’re not laughing. Neither is Bob.
“A woman’s place is wherever the hell she wants it to be, Jackson. I know you’re an idiot but I can’t believe you’re dumb enough to say something like that in front of me, but also your female commanding officer. I haven’t been impressed with the way you,” he stops and looks at the rest of the guys that have gathered around, “any of you have been treating her since she started but refusing to help her is going against direct orders. Not only could she have been injured, but the part she was holding costs more than a year’s salary for you.”
He steps closer to Jackson as he continues. “I’ll leave it up to her if she wants to report it, but if I ever see you disrespect her again, you’ll have to deal with me.”
You’re suddenly feeling hot and flustered as the crush you’ve been harboring intensifies as sweet, shy Bob defends your honor.
Jackson visibly gulps, nodding before he looks at you.
“Go home for the day,” you say with a glance at the clock before you begin to clean up your bay. “All of you are dismissed.”
“Look, I’m sorry-“ Jackson starts but you cut him off.
“Save it, Jackson,” you sigh. “I’m not going to report you, but I will if it happens again.”
“Yes ma’am,” he replies before scurrying away.
Bob follows you as you wash your hands in the sink, scrubbing the grease off. “Sorry, if I overstepped. I know you’re more than capable of standing up for yourself. I just can’t-“ he starts but you interrupt him as you dry your hands.
“You didn’t overstep. I appreciate it,” you assure him as you look over his shoulder to make sure everyone’s gone.
You take a step closer, bringing a hand up to play with the zipper of his flight suit.
“Thank you,” you murmur as you pull him to you for a kiss.
He freezes as your lips touch his, but only for a moment before he kisses you back; the tension that’s been building snapping in an instant.
“I’ve wanted this since the moment I laid eyes on you,” he breathes as you kiss down his neck, groaning as you nip his collarbone.
“Me too,” you murmur against his neck before pulling back to take his hand. “Come on.”
You lead him to the parts room, unlocking the door and pushing him against it once closed, gasping into the kiss when you feel his thick erection pressing against your stomach.
He groans when your hand finds him next, palming him through his flight suit. You shiver before pulling down the zipper, wanting more of those delicious sounds.
“What are-oh God,” he sighs when you fall to your knees, flicking your tongue over the wet spot on his boxerbriefs to taste the precum.
“Wanna taste you,” you say, hands pausing by the waistband of his briefs. “Can I?”
You continue when he nods, gulping when his size is revealed to you. “So big,” you murmur, meeting his eyes as you lean forward to lick the precum beading.
“Fuck,” he whispers before his head falls back against the door with a thump and his hands fist at his sides when you suck him into your mouth.
You bring a hand up to stroke what can’t fit in your mouth and unzip your own coveralls with the other, slipping inside and between your legs to give yourself some relief. Your eyes fall close with a moan as you circle your clit.
“Oh-oh my God,” he gasps when you moan, his eyes zeroing in on what your hand is doing. “Are you touching yourself?”
Your eyes open and take in his wrecked expression before you hum around him.
“Ah…w-wait,” he pants, guiding you off him and to your feet. “I almost-I don’t wanna cum yet.”
You smile as he spins you, pressing you to the door. You shiver as he leaves wet kisses down your neck and whimper when he sucks your nipple through the thin material of your sports bra.
“Next time,” you promise, stopping him as he starts to kneel. “Right now I want you inside me.”
He inhales sharply at your words and nods as he reaches for his wallet, pulling out a condom.
“What are you doing?” You ask with a giggle as he puts it under the light while you slip your coveralls off.
“Making sure it’s not expired,” he replies with a chuckle. “It’s been in my wallet for a few years. It’s good for a few more months yet.”
“Good,” you reply, watching as he rolls it on.
You wrap your legs around his waist when he lifts you and lines himself up to your entrance.
Your mouth finds his as he pushes inside you, and you whimper at the sweet stretch.
“You feel like heaven” he whispers before trailing kisses to your shoulder as you adjust, withdrawing to push back in when you’re ready.
Now it’s your head that thunks against the door as he fucks into you at a steady pace, grunting softly into your neck with each deep thrust.
He pulls back to watch you through lust-heavy eyes as he wets his ring and pointer fingertips before sliding them between you to circle your clit. “Feel good?” He asks, voice husky.
“So good,” you moan, clenching around him as your release starts to build.
“Good,” he nods, “I want you to cum for me, can you do that?”
“Y-yes! Fuck, I’m close,” you whine, your hands scrambling to find purchase on his shoulders as your orgasm rapidly approaches.
He leans in for another kiss and the change of the angle is all it takes for you to fall over the edge with a throaty moan.
Bob’s hips stutter and he fills the condom with a deep groan when you clench rhythmically around him.
He sets you down gently once you’ve caught your breath, making sure you’re steady on your feet before removing the condom. You pull your underwear back on while he zips up his suit.
“What are you doing tonight?” He asks as he kneels, helping you step back into your uniform.
“I have a date with a load of laundry,” you joke. “Why, what’s up?”
“Think it’d be upset if you rescheduled?” He asks, leaning forward to press a kiss just above your bare knee, then halfway up your thigh as he pulls up the fabric. “You said I could do this,” he places a wet kiss to your clit through your underwear before continuing to rise, “next time. So I was thinking I could pick up takeout and we could have ‘next time’ tonight?”
“I like the way you think,” you reply with a smile, leading the way out of the hangar.
——————————————————————————
A/N: Thank you @lexixstewart for the idea (again!) You have such good ideas! I hope you like it!
As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs!
Sorry if you’re not a Bob girly, but I’ll add my taglist here:
@mamamaystbr
@its-the-pilot
@dizzybee03
@sweetwhispersofchaos
@shanimallina87
@blindedbythelightt
@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth
@phoenix-rising-starbird-one
@mrsrobertfloyd5
@charmedkim
@k-k0129
@bellaireland1981
@hookslove1592
@amiets2
@nero4te
@eli2447
@atarmychick007
@vixenobrian
@86laura11
@hisredheadedgoddess28
@dempy
@angelbabyyy99
@buckysteveloki-me
@djs8891
@mizzzpink
@daggerspare-standingby
@mrsevans90
@littlezee80
@emma8895eb
@jessicab1991
@devil-angel-winchester
#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#robert bob floyd x ofc#robert bob floyd smut#robert bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x you#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x ofc#bob floyd x you#top gun maverick
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would they say the n-word / are they racist: twisted wonderland edition
Inspired by twstowo's taxes headcanon post.
I meant to post this during february but i just didnt.
REMEMBER THAT IS ALL FOR SHITS N GIGGLES. IF YOU THINK YOUR POOKIE IS/IS NOT A RACIST, REBLOG OR LEAVE A COMMENT
4/2 edit: JESUS CHRIST DON'T TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY 😭😭 THESE AREN'T REAL HCS, JUST SOMETHING STUPID FOR BLACK TWST FANS TO ENJOY
GRIM: Yess that's my baby boy my son my son yes I give him the pass
RIDDLE: Couldn't waterboard the n-word outta him. Uses 'Off With Your Head' to punish anyone who uses slurs
TREY: Wouldn't. Not a racist and has no interest in saying the word.
CATER: Researches what's offensive to certain groups so he can stay respectful, no n-word from him
ACE: ace is literally that one white friend who thinks his n-word 'jokes' are funny (they're not) and he walks around with Riddle's collar because of that. He def went to a middle school named after a Confederate, but he's not racist for the most part
"I play basketball so-" or "I'm gonna say the n-word: ninja!!" - 🥸
DEUCE: No. He's a good guy. He would never and if he said something remotely offensive, he'd apologize with tears
LEONA: YESS BLACK KING 🗣🔥🔥‼‼‼‼
JACK: Could and he does, but only occasionally. Punches the shit outta Ace's shoulder if he says something distasteful
RUGGIE: YES he just light-skinnted 😕 Ace would make fun of him for eating all the stereotypical foods
AZUL: Slightly racist. Just slightly. Seems like the type to get a lil tense when a tanned, well-built dude walks into the Monstro Lounge. starts clutching his pearls n shit
JADE: No, I don't really see him being racist or saying the n-word
FLOYD: Probably the least likely to say the n-word and would get offended that you even assumed. Like his entire mood would change if you mention it
"Ehh Shrimpy? You tryna get squeezed? What made you think I would say that??" *fucking kills you*
KALIM: No, no n-word from Al-Asim. I could see him as a racist though. i think of kalim as purposely ignorant so in my mind, he's INTENTIONAL with his microaggressions but no one really calls him out on it.
JAMIL: Yes but only cuz I give him the pass.
VIL: Doesn't say the n-word (he knows better) but probably screams it in his thoughts. idk guys vil just seems a bit racist.
ROOK: Who's in Paris. LOL but I don't think he'd say the n-word. Also probably one of the least racist here. But he'd bring up eugenics in a convo and ruin the mood completely.
EPEL: I genuinely don't know if he would or not. Like because he from some rural area (to my knowledge, i js started book 5), i feel like he wouldn't because he'd know better. but i also heard that epel is misogynistic and hating black people & hating women go hand in hand (misogynoir)
IDIA: No but it wouldn't be surprising. i can already imagine him in that cod lobby. probably gets his slurs from cater
ORTHO: No my sweet child would not say the n-word. would blast idia out of this world with a charged beam if he said anything offensive
MALLEUS: No.
LILIA: Probably has said it before and is the most educated when it comes to black culture in the diasomnia group other than sebek (my 4c king)
SEBEK: No, in fact i might give him the pass (#mixedking😍❤️)
SILVER: No but probably a little colorist. yk how some black men love to scream from the mountain tops that they love white women? well silver is that white woman. js saying
this was fun to make. pls remember that its just a silly post, dont get mad because only hit dogs will holler.
"what abt the staff/yuus/extras-" send an ask :3
4/2 edit: its crazy cuz the only mad people are white🧍🏾♀️
#st4rfalle#st4r writes !!#twisted wonderland#twst#malleus draconia#idia shroud#vil schoenheit#kalim al asim#azul ashengrotto#leona kingscholar#riddle rosehearts#twst grim#ace trappola#deuce spade#trey clover#cater diamond#jack howl#ruggie bucchi#jade leech#floyd leech#jamil viper#rook hunt#epel felmier#ortho shroud#lilia vanrouge#twst silver#sebek zigvolt#k0droid#twst x black reader#twisted wonderland x black reader
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Hi! Could I request a brozone x female reader hc's where the reader is a bit sassy and the bros find it funny and hot lol. Thanks!
Brozone x Sassy Fem! Reader
A/N: Sorry for the long wait
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John Dory:
- Completely head over heels for you
- John Dory loves a challenge and when you got sassy with him, you were definitely a challenge
- Finds it completely attractive and he thinks he’s going insane at first
- Before he gets with you he finds himself uninterested in others when they’re soft and easy, unlike you who always puts up a fight
- Left speechless sometimes when you shut him up with your clever comebacks/insults
“No cause you’re amazing and all but your attitude has been stressing me out lately.”
“Damn that’s crazy. Skill issue.”
“Wha- SEE!”
- Loves your tough demeanor though don’t let him fool you
Bruce:
- If anyone can handle a sassy reader the best, I definitely think Bruce would be the one
- If he can handle like 12 kids he can deal with you
- Loves his woman with a little spunk anyways
- Adores it having a woman that can not only stand up for yourself, but stand up for him too 😂
- If you have kids and they’re just as sassy he’s a little hysterical at first but he finds it hilarious when he gets used to it
“And I told her if she had a problem she can call my dad. Period.”
“*Nervous laugh* Period huh? Ok honey can you come here, I’m starting to think this kid is your clone.”
- But he’ll never regret his decision of choosing you, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him
Clay:
- Clay was meant for sassy women. Built for sassy women.
- I actually believe that he’d find non sassy women a little boring (but if he loves you, he loves you)
- At your constant beck and call (usually unless he’s working hard and he’s on a roll)
- If he could explain you in one word: “Hot.”
- If you’re ranting about some female who pissed you off today, he’s all ears. Just nods his head and agrees with your every word, even if you were considered “wrong” (like pffffft- how?)
“And this girl had the nerve to tell me I was stupid! Like be for real, didn’t you graduate highschool at 23?”
“No literally. I feel bad for you, she’s getting on my nerves just listening about her.”
“You get me so much.”
- Now he’s a big gossip and it’s all your fault 😂
Floyd:
- Probably didn’t realize you were sassy until he actually started dating you
- The second he watches you loose your temper he’s flabbergasted. And I mean that.
- Like for the next couple of days he’s basically jaw dropped
- When he finally gets over it he’s chill but once he sees you ima cation again, he feels…different
- Like suddenly this man’s heart is pounding, his cheeks are heating up, and his ears are practically smoking
- Accidentally picks up some of your attitude a little bit and sometimes it takes his brothers to point it out
“Are you serious Floyd?”
“Yup. But personally I told him he can miss me with that bs. Period. Wait-”
“HAH-”
Branch:
- Now we already know that Branch is a little sassy himself:
“Annnnnndddd~ a falsetto made of GOLD.”
“If this diaper was any smaller I could taste it.”
“Fine. But this is more than likely beneath me.”
- He however doesn’t realize he’s sassy so he’s unsure when it comes to you at first
- When he finally realizes that you’re the love of his life, you two are a pretty mouthy duo
- Like when his brothers first met you they were PUZZLED. Like eyebrows RAISED. They genuinely wondered if they had a long lost sister and they would have to break it to branch.
- If you were together during the plot of the first Trolls movie, you’d have Poppy stressinnnnnn
- Onc eye comes to an agreement that you both have that similarity in common, he just falls in love with you more 💙
————————————————————————————
#trolls#trolls band together#clay trolls#floyd trolls#john dory x reader#bruce x reader#clay x reader trolls#floyd x reader#branch trolls#branch x reader#trolls x reader#trolls headcanons#sorry for the long wait#=)
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HOW I FEEL WITH YOU? WELL I... he blurted out an answer, 'maybe he should have thought twice about his answer'
GENDER NEUTRAL READER
" I LOVE YOU. "
The words came out bluntly, without much of a thought, as if it was a known fact, the way your eyes widened took him back, and only then did the man comprehend what he had just said, "Was that too blunt.. I— thought you knew.." he asked, losing his blunt composure slightly, his words gentle and soft, hoping he didn't alarm you in any way with the direct confession.
— ACE TRAPPOLA, floyd leech, MALLEUS DRACONIA, jack howl, ROOK HUNT
" I WANT TO LOVE YOU. "
He pondered on the question, 'How did he feel about you?'... looking at it.. he couldn't explain it.. he felt comfortable around you, your presence filled him up with joy, and most definitely brought a smile on his face, it felt as if everything felt better when he was around you.. He couldn't help but catch glances of you, in-between classes.. Having your attention on him, was something that.. made him feel strange.. but not in a bad way.. a comfortable way.. he blurted out the answer before he could finish thinking, unable to comprehend how he's already fallen deeper then he could've imagined, for you..
— DEUCE SPADE, epel felmier, VIL SCHOENHEIT, silver
" I THINK, I LOVE YOU. "
Slightly confused, he'll say the words softly, in a calm manor, unable to sort out the overload of feelings that course through him when he's around you.. He's not used to this, he may never grow used to this.. yet he can't help but feel fulfilled and so very warm when he's with you, his words getting stuck in his throat when you slick your hair back, he can't take his eyes off of you.. so he can't help but conclude.. "I think, I love you.."
— RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS, ruggie bucchi, JADE LEECH
" I LIKE YOU.. NO I LOVE YOU! "
The words fell out of his mouth effortlessly, it even took him a moment to comprehend what he just said, as his eyes widened ever so slightly, he averted his gaze from you quickly, turning his head away.. avoiding direct eye contact with your confronting gaze.. a slight flush washed over him, as he tries to think of an excuse..
— KALIM AL-ASIM, trey clover, SEBEK ZIGVOLT
" I COULD LOVE YOU. "
He felt conflicted, trying his best to avoid your questioning gaze, aching for an answer.. he wished truly that he could confront these emotions he felt, and just tell you.. flat out.. it was odd.. it was as if the walls he built up, throughout the two of yours friendship, came crashing, as he uttered the words, stopping mid sentence unable to finish the rest of his words, not ready to confront or tackle his emotions.. "I-i could lover you—"
— LEONA KINGSCHOLAR, azul ashengrotto, CATER DIAMOND, jamil viper, IDIA SHROUD, lilia vanrouge
© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.
#malleus draconia x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#silver x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#idia shroud x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#rook hunt x reader#epel felmier x reader#kalim al asim x reader#jamil viper x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#jade leech x reader#floyd leech x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#jack howl x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#ace trappola x reader#deuce spade x reader#trey clover x reader#cater diamond x reader#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#twst silver x reader#twst fluff#twst angst#twst headcanons
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Idk how well text posts do on Trolls Tumblr, but I have so many thoughts rn and want to talk about feral Branch details.
Feral Branch HC:
Branch has fur, claws on both his feet and hands, his ears move like a cat, and he can see better in the dark
"Feral Trolls" are gray trolls who have adapted from being away from others. Trolls have a built in instinct that recognizes strength in numbers. You see this with rainbow trolls being able to change their colors/auras, and all trolls being able to manipulate their hair. Gray trolls cannot change their aura, but they are around others so they can stay normal
But isolated gray trolls biologically change due to them not being around others. This happens over years, and not automatic. Once a troll changes like this, they cannot undo it. So this is why Branch cannot go back to "normal" physically, even tho he isn't gray and around others
(there's also a psychological/self actualization part. Gray trolls tend to see themselves as the problem and rainbow trolls end up more likely to becoming "feral" looking due to their ability to change their aspects.)
All genres have feral trolls, all presenting differently. Rock and pop are the most similar since they are the two physically closest looks wise
Normal trolls are omnivores, but eat more plants since their digestive systems and body needs focus more on plants. Feral trolls need more meat, but are still omnivorses
If I can get psychological, a lot of their "feral tendencies" are actually just trauma responses and bad socialization issues due to isolation. A lot of responses are stemmed from fear and anger, so lashing out/growling/swiping at others is normally out of fear or response. Plus having to survive in the wild, y'know?
Okay. Done with that part, let's get into Branch!
Branch likes to be in trees and high ground. It comes from living in a pod in the troll tree, but he lives in the bunker because it's safer. So you'll find him in trees normally because he likes being high
Branch normally hibernates during the winter, but ever since he met Poppy he stopped hibernating. This makes him horribly grumpy during the snow season
Not shown: Branch loving his ears to be scratched. Her more sensitive than normal and he loves them being pet. He also loves to lay on top of people. It comes from the need of warmth and him thinking that others need warmth.
He wouldn't lick others, since they don't have fur. But if he's around other feral trolls he'd definitely lick them.
His parents were both half rock and half pop trolls. They both looked like rainbow pop trolls, and the rock parent (dad) did not live in the troll tree. Grandma Rosiepuff was the maternal grandmother and a pop troll
The parents names were Briar and Melody
Branch has the need to burrow all the time. It comes from years in the bunker and from hiding from danger in the earlier years. You will see him burried in someone's bed probably.
Branch is really good at math and science once he starts learning and back into the village. It comes naturally to him. He wants to be a pod architect because it comes naturally to him
Clay and Bruce follow the same thing, where Clay really likes accounting and Bruce loves to run business.
Floyd is the best at performing, with JD behind him. JD though is actually really good at taking care of others and survival. Surprisingly JD can garden and keep a ton of plants alive to feed himself.
Branch and Clay are autistic with different levels of support needed. Branch needs less support while Clay needs more. Thought I'd mention this.
Clay and Viva were best friends before the Troll Tree attack. The others did not know this. Viva and JD are the ones that helped Clay learn better coping mechanisms when the band started to sour
Branch is more sensitive to sound and light. He hates fireworks and doesn't like to be touched unless he knows the person
Ablaze is the one who mainly is teaching Branch coping mechanisms for his PTSD. Poppy is his support throughout everything, but she doesn't know how to help someone heal.
Branch mandates Kismet group cuddles. This dude it touched starved and they’re the only ones he is comfortable like that other than Poppy
Even after Branch is able to speak again, as he was nonverbal when he met Poppy and by Trolls 2 he is speaking again, he prefers to be quiet and doesn't talk as much. It is simply preference at this point
Branch likes to interlock his tail with Poppy's when they're not touching, but close enough :)
I might do more later, but I am about to go into work :)
#trolls#dreamworks trolls#trolls branch#trolls 3#brozone#trolls brozone#trolls poppy#broppy#trolls broppy#feral branch#feral branch au#feral au
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Could I request octavinelle, Riddle, Kalim and Malleus x GN!Reader who's like Lizzie hearts
If you don't know how she is, she's a character from ever after high and she's the daughter of the queen of hearts
I used to be obsessed with Ever After High. Also, Lizzie is a hopeless romantic lol. It was written so that Reader is not Yuu, and is in Heartslabyul.
Riddle Rosehearts
He felt so honored to be in your presence, as you were the child of the Queen of Hearts herself. However, you were the exact opposite of what he expected. He expected you to be as strict as he was, and while you sort of were, you were a whole lot nicer and more lenient. You were actively trying to be kinder, and because of that the whole dorm loved you.
When you had asked if he would be your boyfriend, he was worried about what his mother would think. However, how could she say no when it was the child of the Queen of Hearts and also the heir who requested to court her son? Your relationship is actually super awkward in a very adorable way, if I’m being honest.
Riddle actually really loves your unique magic, where you can construct anything out of cards. And unlike a normal tower of cards, it’s structurally stable. You were able to help rebuild the dorm after your boyfriend’s overblot because of your power, and for free. Unfortunately, you had to regrow the roses manually. It was okay because when you got angry, Riddle explained that like your love, it takes a while for it to grow. That sentence alone made your heart flutter.
Azul Ashengrotto
Let’s be honest, everyone thinks it's an honor to be in your presence. But Azul tried to take advantage of you at first. You were smarter than that, since you were the heir and you needed to be aware of when someone was trying to manipulate you. The fact that you could cut something with your finger was definitely a factor in what got him to back off.
However, because of your desire to not rule like your mother did, you held out an olive branch and tried to get to know the person under the owner of a successful Lounge. Eventually, you both got romantically involved and into an official relationship. There were a few bumps, as the two of you were constantly kept busy, him with the Lounge and Octavinelle and you with preparing to inherit the Queendom. It felt as though you both were from and in different worlds, and you were.
Years later, Azul would say that your ability to build structures out of cards built a bridge between the two of you and you met in the middle. You both would call each other through FaceTime on your phones over breaks to really see each other, and over Spring Break in particular you had been excused by your mother to spend your time at NRC. So, you helped Azul at the Lounge so that you could see him a bit more.
Jade Leech
Even though you were a member of a royal family, he just loved to tease you so much. You should have expected this, to be honest. The way you mix up fabrics and such so that it matches the aesthetic of the Hearts family is something that he points out frequently. It goes against the norms he had gathered from other humans, but you fit right into the Heartslabyul dorm.
He offers a patience exercise, to say the least. As much as he loves teasing you, he knows when you have reached your boiling point. He also knew how hard you were working to prepare to inherit the Queendom of Roses, so he often helps you. You decided to get him back and say that he should start training as well to be King Consort, and this caused him to stop in his tracks and process what you just said.
Your unique magic is very fascinating to Jade, both in a personal and business perspective. You would be able to expand the Queendom on your own without help from the people, and your power could be used to expand the space of the Mostro Lounge for free. Of course, these are merely thoughts and he had no intention of acting upon them and trying to coerce you into a contract with Azul.
Floyd Leech
Riddle thanks you for becoming the tweel’s new obsession. He calls you ‘queenfish’, mainly because his nicknames are marine-life themed and you come from the royal family of the Queendom of Roses. Be prepared for a suffocating amount of affection because this man does not hold back.
If you thought Jade was a patience exercise, you have a whole other thing coming. This man knows what buttons to press, but not when to stop pressing them. Whenever you lose your temper, he smiles and thinks it’s all a joke until you use your unique magic to build a wall between the two of you for the entire day. Thus, he can’t see you, hold you, squeeze you, and this makes him irritable as well.
At the end of the day, he apologizes for annoying you and you, being the hopeless romantic that you are, caved in and let the cards fall away from the outside of Ramshackle. The first thing that the eel did was squeeze you and beg you to never do that again. After all, he can’t go 5 minutes without his beloved queenfish without making it someone else’s problem.
Kalim Al-Asim
He finds it super cool how you both had very similar upbringings. The two of you were destined to inherit something, him his father’s merchant company, you your mother’s queendom. But, only one of you was really concerned about it. The other was just trying to live life and have fun doing it. I will give you one chance to guess who is who in this situation.
When you voice your desire to try and be kinder, our lovely Kalim here takes it upon himself to teach you to be the kindest person you can be. Through the process, you both grew very close and even had your first kiss. Thus sealing your love for each other and putting you both in an official relationship.
Your unique magic really comes in handy when Scarabia needs to be reconstructed after Jamil’s overblot, and this kind of creates a treaty between both Heartslabyul and Scarabia. An act of good will put you on the good side of students from both dorms, which really helped you accomplish your goal of becoming a more respected and less feared person.
Malleus Draconia
You both have probably met each other before NRC, as you were members of royal families from different kingdoms/queendoms. There was an ongoing peace treaty between the Queendom of Roses and the Kingdom of Briar Valley. What struck him when you met for the first time was how you were not afraid of him. No, your brash attitude did not discriminate, and the memory of you demanding to know who he was and how your expression did not change after informing you of his identity made him laugh.
Then, you both were enrolled into NRC. You were sorted into Heartslabyul, and he into Diasomnia. Your friendship did not change, and when Yuu came around the three of you were great friends. It was during the same year where he invited you to go gargoyle watching but it was a huge plot to actually confess his love to you. He held out a blood-red rose to you, and you accepted it as you placed a kiss upon his cheek in return.
The only time he had seen your unique magic was when you were helping out Yuu by making Ramshackle a bit more structurally sound with your cards. He was there to also help, and Yuu and Grim got to experience the combined power of two heirs working together. This had Malleus thinking about how if the two of you got married, it could possibly solve the issue between faes and humans, as it would unite the Queendom of Roses and the Kingdom of Briar Valley.
#twst#twst x reader#twst wonderland#disney twst#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst riddle#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle rosehearts#riddle x reader#riddle#twst azul x reader#azul ashengrotto#twst azul#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul x reader#azul#twst azul ashengrotto x reader#twst azul ashengrotto#jade#jade x reader#twst jade leech#twst jade#jade leech x reader#jade leech#twst jade x reader#twst floyd leech#floyd leech x reader#floyd leech
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thinking about androids again, but rather than the plot seen in android jade,,,, consider android floyd who is being developed by tech genius idia shroud with input and funding from business magnate azul ashengrotto.
(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, vaguely implied non-con/dub-con, android floyd)
He's designed to be a companion for those who are lonely and in need of the company (whether physically or socially). You're just a tired, overworked university student, so it's mind-boggling to you when there's a sleek limousine parked just beyond campus property. Security guards are insisting you come with them because there's someone who'd like to meet you.
In the limo, you find yourself sitting across from Azul Ashengrotto himself. He doesn't bother with flowery introductions, instead cutting to the heart of the matter. You've been randomly selected to help with a very important phase of his and Idia's project. The general idea is to test how well the android interacts with a normal, ordinary person in a monitored setting.
You're very confused. You never signed up for any lottery, and you certainly aren't affiliated with anything of that sort. You're just trying to get through your degree, survive two part-times, and hopefully make enough to keep afloat for another month. Azul tells you this isn't an issue; you'll be generously compensated for your time and efforts. It's only three months; you'll be permitted to live your life as you normally would, only now you'll be accompanied by a highly intelligent android.
Despite hearing all of this, you hesitate when he reveals the lengthy contract. As you flip through it, analyzing each clause and category, Azul says something that piques your interest. "We don't expect you to house an android in your little apartment. Goodness, that's simply ludicrous. We'll provide your housing for these next three months. After all, we must be able to monitor your progress."
"Housing? What do you mean?"
He smiles at you. Backdropped by leather interior, the lights casting odd shadows on his face, he looks near-sinister. But he leans forward to press a ballpoint pen into your hands and the illusion vanishes. "I think you'll find it quite to your liking. If you've finished your classes for the day, why not visit the property with me? Then you may decide whether you wish to participate."
You're not worried about that part. What worries you the most, however, is the fact that he's right. You are finished with classes for the day and you have nothing planned. You took today off from work. Your schedule is perfectly free.
But of course the Azul Ashengrotto wouldn't know that, would he?
The house is a smart home, equipped with every necessity and appliance. Everything's controlled by a remote here. It's not very far from your university either, built on a hill that overlooks houses below. It feels a little isolating and smells very new and clean. Like that fabled new car smell, only it's a house. But everything is so unique to you. Its minimalistic design is oddly cozy, and you can't help but feel enchanted the deeper you venture through the two-story home. It's all so unreal!
Azul gives you the rundown, explains how the remote and each button works. You can lock doors, open and close windows, mess with the thermostat, turn the home security on and off, and even start the oven. You hold the power to this home in the palm of your hands. It's immensely fascinating.
By the end of the tour, you're shaking his hand and signing his contract, agreeing to three months of study. Not only are you provided this nice home, you'll also be paid per week. And the pay is far more than you were making with your two jobs.
The android has a long, tongue-tying serial number, so to make things easier he's named Floyd. They even gave him a surname in preparation for the twin android who is being designed to complement and mirror him. He certainly looks human when you meet him, but there's this uncanny nature to his presence that slightly unnerves you. He's too perfect. Skin too smooth. Eyes too bright. Hair too soft. He towers over you, having to bend down to walk through the doorframe, and every movement he makes is very mechanical and stiff.
Still, you smile at him and offer your hand. "Hi there. I'm (Name). Your...housemate, I guess."
He nods, peering down at your hand before lifting his own. "Floyd Leech. At your service."
You were expecting to feel coldness, so you startle when his hand fits into yours and it's warm. It feels so very real. So deceptively lifelike. You wonder if he can regulate his own internal temperatures. Just how advanced is he?
"Right... Um, I look forward to getting to know you!"
He nods again, releasing your hand after a perfectly timed handshake.
Azul had given you a special number should you need to reach him or Idia. All you needed to do was phone it if at any point you were to feel confused or unsafe. "But I don't think you'll utilize it," he told you when you stood in the lab, watching Idia Shroud flit around to do final maintenance checks to ensure Floyd was ready for his first trial run. His eyes were open the entire time, two mismatched lights centered on you. His stare was listless, but somehow you felt as if he was looking through to your very soul. "He's very safe. In fact, he's programmed to assess and react appropriately to dangers of all kinds. You'll be safe with him around."
And safe you are.
You've always been alone, so it's nice to have a roommate, even if he only speaks when spoken to. It's awkward for all of one week until you ease into his pattern. From various vantage points throughout the house, Idia and Azul watch through hidden cameras. You cook your meals for yourself and Floyd watches, assisting when you order him to. You leave for class and Floyd waits by the door for you to return, standing stock-still for hours.
You lounge in the sitting room and put on all kinds of films. Action. Comedy. Horror. Floyd's eyes never leave the screen. But sometimes he watches you more than he watches the movie, noting all of your reactions. He doesn't understand why you get so emotional over sappy romances. So you explain it simply: "It evokes emotions. We all have emotions, and these movies make us feel them. Happy. Sad. Angry. Upset. Things like that."
But Floyd doesn't feel. Even so, he listens and he nods along, filing your answers away for later dissection. It's interesting.
By the end of the first month, Floyd's adopted new habits. Ever since you told him he's free to do as he pleases, he's taken to cooking your meals for you, doing your laundry, preparing your bag for the day. He's surprisingly good at it. He does chores when you leave for classes or work. And for the first time in a while you're excited to return home, knowing he's there waiting.
Floyd adds new words and phrases to his ever-expanding vocabulary. You watch a lot of TV together and he starts to use some of what he hears in his own speech. He picks up informal language quickly, and it isn't long until he's using words like sup or dunno instead of the rigid how are you? and I am unsure he was previously programmed with.
The first sign of unrest comes when you realize Floyd's also connected to the smart home. At first you didn't think it was a bad thing. After all, with him controlling it you won't have to worry about getting up to grab the remote if you've already sat down. Floyd can do that for you. But then the remote goes missing, later turning up shattered. You ask Floyd what happened and he looks at you and says, "Why use this piece of junk when you've got me?"
"Still... What if you're not able to help? What if you're in sleep mode and I need to open a window or something?" you argue, cradling the splinters of remote like they're an injured baby bird.
"That won't happen," he replies smoothly, issuing you a soothing smile. "I'm always gonna be here for ya. Count on it."
And you do because, by the time the three months are nearing their end and Floyd's developed into quite the companion, more and more human than he's ever seemed, you find yourself stuck.
No, not stuck. That's not quite right. You're more so trapped.
Floyd locks the doors, shutters the windows, turns off the lights. You're cowering in the closet, the only place that feels just a little safe in this moment. You can't reach Azul or Idia either. He's shut the power off, the internet connection, everything. The smart home on the hilltop feels like a tiny island now, and Floyd's the shark always circling it, waiting for you to dip your feet into the depths.
"C'mon, Shrimpy," he calls out, and it's a nickname you were once so fond of because he thought of it himself. "I already told ya I ain't gonna hurt ya. So just come out and talk to me."
You have no idea where you went wrong. Was it too many horror films? Was it the fact that you started to rely so heavily on him for companionship, ignoring your human friends in favor of staying in with Floyd? Or was it because he was blocking their numbers that you never received any messages and automatically assumed they were cutting contact? He said he'd always be here for you, so why to this degree?
The closet doors are thrown open. Floyd drags you, kicking and screaming, out by the ankles. Every camera has gone dark on Azul and Idia's end. All but one. The one in the bedroom. Floyd stares directly at it when he lifts you up and lays you on the bed, gentle and sugary-sweet.
He smiles and waves before that screen blanks out, leaving you truly trapped with him.
And because it's all experimental, morbid curiosity trumping ethical morals, no one comes to rescue you.
Three months is more of an indefinite forever in this lonesome smart home.
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So this hasn't been explored but I read so many fanfic about how Branch's brothers are desperate for Branch to open up to them and are mainly jealous on how he does much better with Poppy.
I also read another fic about how Floyd faked his kidnapping and is basically, "Oh Poppy's just using him for sex, Branch is not in a mental state to be in a relationship." He basically wants Branch for himself. He doesn't like that he's doing better without him. And unknowingly wants to destroy Branch's confidence that he built on his own.
So what I'm saying is.... What do you think about these plots? Would this most likely happen?
Hmm, both are interesting concepts…
Personally, I can’t picture Floyd with darker motives, he just comes off as such a sweetheart in the movie 🥰 But, I’m sure that the author of the fic has handled it in a way to where whatever actions he takes/thoughts he has still sound in-character for him. I can however see Branch’s bros in general feeling envious for Branch’s openness to Poppy, and I think that this would be a scenario that sounds very believable. Sure, they’re happy that he can talk to his girlfriend about personal issues, but each want to work towards getting that same level of trust with him for themselves.
I have this plot idea for a fic that's been sitting around in my head (not sure if someone else has written something like it as I’ve barely read any fics from TBT) where it’s kind of a semi-rivalry between BroZone and Kismet over Branch. To me, it seems that while Kismet disbanded, they did not end on a bad note unlike BroZone, so Hype, Ablaze, Boom, and Trickee already have a better-standing friendship with Branch under their belts than the bros do – one that makes the brothers jealous, and fearful that Branch would want to rejoin their band instead of staying with BroZone (but then of course they will learn that isn’t the case, and everyone gets along and whatnot lol)
#trolls#trolls 3#trolls band together#brozone#kismet#branch trolls#floyd trolls#poppy trolls#dreamworks#thanks for the ask!#kittyball answers
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Bobby’s Got It Goin’ On | Bob Floyd x Reader
Summary: When Jake takes it too far, you step in
Warnings: Smut, oral (reader receiving, bc in my mind, bob is a pussy eating king!) fingering, consensual groping, blowjob in a car (0/10, do not recommend doing this) protected sex because!!! it’s a must!!! swearing, lil tad bit of angst, sexism? Hangman being, well, himself. Also, I suck at titles and summaries 🙃 18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. And please, let me know what you thought! Reblogs and comments are so very appreciated and help us fic writers <3 Xoxo, Parker
If there was one thing you knew for certain about Jake Seresin, it was that he had a loud fuckin mouth. And quite the talent at opening it at the wrong fuckin times. Like now, for instance. You and the crew were all at The Hard Deck, hanging out and celebrating getting through another long work week. Things were going well, you found yourself perched next to Bob, as the two of you made easy conversation.
You liked Bob, a lot. How could you not? He was sweet, smart, handsome as ever loving hell… Only issue, was he probably didn’t feel even the slightest bit same for you. That was okay though! Because in the end, you’d rather have a friendship with him than ruin it by telling him how you felt only to be rejected.
It was better this way, regardless of how bad it hurt or how much pestering you’d get from the other squadron members to just confess you feelings.
Pushing back the slightly depressing thoughts, you continued your focus on Bob, who was getting rather animated as he told you a stories from his childhood and teen years. Head thrown back in laughter, you couldn’t help but to gently slap his arm, a habit you had developed over the years and could never quite shake. Most people would have found it annoying, but not Bob. Never him. He found it endearing, plus… he couldn’t deny that the skin to skin contact was nice. You were so soft and warm, so, so… perfect.
Bob continued to blush while you giggled, “wow, Bobby, I never would’ve taken you for such a bad boy!” If his cheeks weren’t already as red as a stop sign, they certainly were now. “I wasn’t! Really! Just a… ya know, had a bit of teen angst, I guess.” Bob muttered, not being able to handle how goddamn beautiful that smile of yours was. “Well, teen angst aside, I think some trouble looks good on you. Kinda rouged. Chicks dig that, ya know.” You spoke with a soft smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes as you thought of him with any other woman than you.
Bob wore his usual lopsided smile as you said that, his skin feeling even warmer now. Jesus, you were so perfect. This moment was so perfect. Until it wasn’t.
Hangman, being the ever present thorn in your side, just had to go and ruin it. “Y’all wanna know what else chicks dig?” He spoke with a shit-eating grin as he plopped down beside you, making himself more than comfortable but not at all welcome. “Not really,” you huffed out through gritted teeth. A devilish smirk blossomed even wider on the blonds face, “chicks dig a man who’s tough and confident, unafraid to take charge and get shit done. Like me, sweet pea.” Jake ended with a wink, something that shouldn’t have pissed you off so much. But it did. He always managed to get under your skin in a way no one else could. He just had that effect on people. Obnoxious.
“Well, maybe some women aren’t into that,” you shot back. “Maybe some of us like a quiet, down to earth, gentleman who doesn’t boast about how supposedly great he is.” Jake barked out a laugh, his eyebrows shooting high up and almost into his hairline. “Damn, girl.” Jake whistled, “ya got fire in you, f’sure. Gotta find the right to manage that. Some prissy, sissy of a man ain’t gonna be able to tame it. Like Bob!” Said person looked up at you sheepishly for the first time since Hangman had crashed your little party. “Bobby here wouldn’t know what t’do with all that you got goin’ on, he uh, he just ain’t built for it.” Okay, so now you weren’t just pissed. You were fucking livid.
“And what the fuck do you know about anything, Bagman? Huh? What’re your qualifications to be making such claims? In fact, when’s the last time any of this macho bullshit actually worked on a woman? Cause ya wanna know what I think? I think you’re just an insecure little boy who acts like he’s gods fuckin’ gift to this world, like he’s got it all goin’ on for him. But you don’t! You can sure as hell act like it, but we all know you don’t. You wanna know who does, though? Bob. Yeah, that’s right. Bobby’s got it goin’ on!” By this point, you had stood up from your seated position so you could feel like you had a bit more of an upper ground, as you glared down at Jake.
Bob, who still hadn’t uttered a peep since Hangman’s interruption, saw how close you were to hitting the man and gently decided it was time to divert from the situation and led you outside. His hand, strong but gentle on the small of your back, guided you throughout The Hard Deck until you both found yourselves under the pale moonlight. “God!” you groaned angrily. “I mean, who the hell does he think he is? Such a prick! Like, I get it, you haven’t been laid in a while but fuck don’t take it out on people who don’t deserve it! It’s just so, so, so fucking frustrating. Aren’t you frustrated? I’m frustrated! No, I’m pissed! Oooh, I’m so pissed. I could go in there right now and punch him right in his stupid f-,” You stopped short in your rant, the pacing you started somewhere along the line coming to a halt.
Bob was just standing there, head bowed, not saying a word. “Bobby?” You whispered gently, mentally cursing yourself for your tangent now when you should’ve been making sure he was okay. Opening your mouth to speak again, Bob cut you off. “Did… did you meant it? W-what you said. I-in there? Or was that just to get Hangman off my back?” The shake in his voice made your heart crack in two, but what truly broke it was the look on his face. So unsure, so pained, so scared that it was all just a big fat lie.
“Bobby, I-” you started, but was once again cut off. “It’s fine, I-I uh, I get it. I do. No hard feelings. But, um, thanks for taking care of Hangman.” Bob went to pass out, presumably to his car so he could get the hell out of there and save himself any further embarrassment for tonight. Before he could make it far, you grabbed his arm, tugging him back towards you and pushing your lips to his. Bob left out a soft whine, immediately melting into the feeling of you.
The kiss was soft, warm, delicate and messy all at once. It was everything you ever dreamed of, it just sucked that the events of tonight were what led up to it. Pulling away, your hands went up to cup his face, locking eyes with his in the compassionate embrace. “I meant every single word, Robby. All that, and so much more.” Bob broke out in a smile, with you following not far behind, before he surged forward and connected your lips once more. This time in a much more needy and demanding kiss, with his and your hands roaming each others bodies.
A soft moan left your lips in a tiny squeak, Bob pulling away with a satisfied grin. “Maybe we should take this somewhere a little more private? Don’t really feel like sharing those noises with anyone else.” You gasped and gently hit his arm, like how you had earlier. “Bobby! You dirty dog! I cant believe you… but yes. Yes. Let’s go, now. Please.” Bob couldn’t help to laugh at the display of utter desperation from you, as he led you to his car. The second you were inside, a full makeout session ensued. You ended up on his lap, albeit with some struggle because his car was tiny, but you made do. Grinding on his growing bulge, you moaned widely, his tongue darting into your mouth. “Fuck, Bobby, take me home. Want you to take me home and fuck me so bad. Will you, please?” You whined and begged, and what kind of man would he be to leave you so needy like this.
After you were safe and secure in the passenger seat, Bob wasted no time on stepping on the gas as he made his way back to his rental. After the mission, many, if not most, of the original crew got a transfer. Yourself included, though unlike Bob, you’re place wasn’t as nice. That didn’t matter though, it was all small details in the end. Because now you not only had the best of friends, but you finally got the guy. And said guy was taking you home to fuck you.
The drive wasn’t long, but damn, did it make you needier. You weren’t sly in the slightest, as you snuck your hand slowly up Bobs thigh, climbing higher and higher, stopping just below where you so desperately wanted to touch. Bob gave you a look, eyebrow quirked, lips in a smirk. “This okay?” you whispered, just to be sure. “More than okay, darling.” He confirmed, and that was more than enough for you to launch your attack. Unbuttoning his pants, you make quick work of pushing down his boxers as far as they would go before his hard and ready cock popped out. Your mouth went agap at the sight, suddenly feeling drool looking at the edges of you lips as you took in the length and size of him. He was huge! “Holy shit, Bobby, you really do got it goin’ on.” And with that, you took him into your mouth.
He couldn’t reach all the way in, so you made due by streaking the rest of him. Occasionally groping his balls, which earned the heavenly sound of his moans. You continued bobbing your head up and down, savoring the taste of him and the way he swore. “F-fuck! Yeah, yeah, just like that. Taking it so well, j-just like a good girl.” You moaned at the praise, feeling yourself getting wetter by the second. Then, before you knew it, the car came to an abrupt stop and so did the blowjob, as Bob gently grabbed your cheeks and lifted your head. “As much as I’d love to come in your throat, sweet thing, I’d much rather continue this inside. Where I can really treat you good,” he said with a wink. Oh, god, he was so fucking hot.
The two of you managed to stumble inside, hands never leaving each others bodies as you nipped and sucked at any possible exposed skin, groping and grinding and messy as he led you to his bed and practically tossed you on to it. By the time you made it to his bedroom, both of you were almost fully nude, aside from the underwear you wore. Which were fully soaked now, by the way. And damn, did Bob enjoy the sit. Sinking down to his knees on the floor, Bob grabbed your legs and scooted you forward so your ass hung over the bed almost completely. “Fuck, s’wet f’me,” he mumbled against the skin of your thighs, your ankles now hanging over his shoulders.
He worked his way up, pressing kisses to the soft skin, loving the way you moaned and begged for me. “You want my mouth or my fingers, darling?” He asked, and the smirk he wore when you screamed, “both!” only widened. “If it’s both you want, baby, then it’s both you’ll get.” And with that, your panties were gone in a flash as he tore them off and dove right in. “FUCK!” you moaned loudly, your hands frantically clutching the bedsheets. “Yes, yes, yes! Oh, right there! Fuck yes!” He’d barely begun, still only using his tongue, as he lapped at you like a man starved. It was heavenly, the warmth of his tongue and the speed at which it tortured you with bliss.
Minutes, maybe even hours, fuck who knows how long went by with him in between your thighs, just licking and sucking and slurping at what you had to offer before he asked if you wanted his fingers yet. Of course you had screamed yes again, but it was all garbled and mumbled from the pleasure you felt. Bob chucked between you, the vibration a heavenly feeling on your clit. The added sensation of not just one, but two fingers prodding at your sensitive hole had your mind swimming in pure ecstasy. You knew you were close, and his fingers speeding in and out of you mixed with his tongue on your clit only brought on that freeing feeling. Bob must’ve felt the way you clenched around him, the way your thighs shook, and masterfully continued his work. Drilling his fingers inside of you and bringing your clit to rest in between his puckered lips had you exploding into a dazzling glow of orgasm you’ve never felt before.
Bob stayed between your thighs, fingers slowing down as he coaxed you through your orgasm. Once he knew you were good, he gently pulled his fingers out and tapped your thigh in a way of telling you “good job”. Climbing back onto the bed, he smiled down at your fucked out figure. The way your eyes were glazed over, your naked chest rising and falling. It was a beautiful sight to behold, and he was so lucky he got to be the one to do it. You smiled back at him, before slowly getting up so you sat on your knees with him on the bed, hands stroking up and down his arms. “As good as that was, and trust me, it was really good, I want you to fuck me for real now.”
Bob didn’t need to be told again, he bolted towards his bedside table, almost ripping the drawer out as he searched inside the messy compartment. “Aha!” He said victoriously, holding up a condom. You smiled softly at the man, who despite being a literal sex god a minute ago, still had the capability to be the goofy dork you’ve had feelings for forever now.
“You ready?” he asked earnestly once he got the condom on, you’ve never been more ready for anything in your life. “Just hurry up and fuck me, Floyd.” you said breathlessly, and that was more than enough for him to pounce on you like his life depended on it. His lips met yours in a flurry once more that night, the taste of you not gone from his mouth as he all but attacked yours. The tip of his cock met your folds in a blissful roll of his hips, making you gasp. Needing him inside you desperately, you grabbed his cock gently and helped him slowly guide it inside you, breathing out a sigh of relief once he filled you to the fullest. On your back, you laid there, allowing yourself to get used to the feeling of him. Bob, ever the patient man, didn’t move an inch until you gave him the go ahead.
Once the coast was clear, he was like a beast, snapping his hips at an unstoppable force. It felt so good, like all your nerves were set ablaze in the best way. Your ankles wrapped around his waist, your hands scratching up and down his back. The way he was bent over you gave him perfect access to your tits, to which he took full advantage and brought one of your nipples to his mouth. The feeling had you clenching around him like a viper, his hot tongue dancing around the sensitive skin of your breast brought you close to the edge again. His thrusts were hard and wild, but calculated, hitting the perfect spot every single time. You were both moaning like animals, swears and praises and the scent of sex filling the air as you fucked each other into the night. “Fuck, Bobby, m’so close. Wanna come with you, wanna come with you so bad.” you whined out, and Bob can’t think of a time in his life where he’s heard or experienced anything sexier.
“I’m almost there, my girl, fuck, so close. Just hold on f’me like a good girl, can ya do that? Can you wait like the good girl I know you are?” His voice was so gruff, deep and full of ecstasy. “Yeah,” you managed out in a high pitched whimper, something that made Bob’s cock twitch from inside of you. With a few more deep strokes inside you, he was ready, and he knew you were too. “Let go, baby. Come with me, fuck! You better come with me, baby, know you can.”
And so you did. And it was glorious. Earth shattering, mind blowing, you name it. Your skin was hot and sweaty, and you shook like a goddamn earthquake as you came, Bob not far behind as he experienced his own orgasm. Moaning wildly, he collapsed beside you the second he pulled out. The two of you lay there, breathing heavily, minds reeling from the most amazing and intense and powerful sex both of you have ever had in your entire lives. Once the two of you caught your breaths and energy enough to move, Bob cleaned the two of you up before pulling you into his arms. You laid there, head on his chest, looking up at him in pure fascination and wonder.
Yeah, Bobby’s definitely got it goin’ on for sure.
And Hangman can fuckin’ suck it!
#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd smut#bob floyd fanfic#bob floyd#top gun smut#top gun x reader#top gun fanfic#robert floyd#robert floyd x reader#robert floyd smut#banner by cafekitsune
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Oh gosh I just stumbled on your writings your writing is so nice!, and I loved in a relationship with jamil and floyd they were so good 😭,im sorry if your getting a buncha these now may I request in a relationship with azul if thats ok?
✎ With You ~ Azul Ashengrotto
summary: the highly requested in a relationship with Azul! usual three categories! crushing, confession, and dating!
tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, gn! reader
a/n: I adore azul— this just took me forever bc of writer’s block! but!! here he is! i’ll probably spin a wheel for who I do next, but if you’re curious, the current requested are: jack, epel, sebek, kalim, riddle, jade, and vil! so if you were looking out for them, they’re coming soon! also, i‘ve been considering making a tag list, so yeah! anyway, enjoy azul!! — winnie <3
✎ starry - eyed !
» Azul is the type to vehemently deny any feelings he may have towards you. When you first met, he assumed that his interest in you was nothing more than seeing you as a potential business prospect. He kept a close eye on you, but as time went on, his excuses became feeble in the face of what he felt.
» He’d keep insisting that your meetups are “business research,” even going as far as taking notes after every meeting in hopes to convince himself that that’s all it was. However, as time goes on, he finds that he doesn’t even think about finances or his business when he’s with you. He becomes entirely invested in conversations with you and the happenings of your life.
» Upon realizing that he isn’t doing the “research” he foolishly told himself he was doing, his avoidant tactics only increase in strength. He didn’t like you— he couldn’t.
» He wants to convince himself that it’s bad business to get emotionally involved— that there’s no room for romance in his world, but deep down, he knows it’s all an excuse. Truth be told, Azul is terrified at the prospect of liking you.
» With his history of bullying, Azul doesn’t have much of a positive self-image. The people close to him know that his confidence is fragile, and the bravado he hides behind is built on a foundation of power. However, when it comes to the romance world, Azul is playing on an even field with everyone else that may like you.
» In such a world, Azul fears that he has nothing to offer you.
» You’re kind and generous in a way no one else is. Azul’s underhanded tactics aren’t a suitable offering for you. And if power and money doesn’t appeal to you— what then? What can Azul possibly offer to you? What did he have that made him the most suitable option out of the countless people vying for your hand?
» Nothing. That’s what. That’s why Azul cannot like you. Because if he did, it’d be futile.
» There is no contract. He’d be giving his whole heart to you with no guarantee that you’d give anything in return. He’d leave himself vulnerable to being positively crushed by rejection. He could handle losing in business— such losses came with the field, but in love? Tell him— what proven strategies can be put in place to prevent pain or heartbreak? What insurance is there when your heart is tattered with the pain of rejection?
» There is none, and Azul knows this for certain. However, as time goes on, he finds himself unable to deny his feelings any longer as he spends more time with you.
» You happily listen to his business ramblings, propose event ideas for the Lounge, and you’ve even mastered the art of reigning in the Leech Twins. You fit in so perfectly into his life, but that only terrifies him more. He finds himself scared of losing you, but unable to commit himself to the idea of being infatuated by you.
» In response to this standstill, he draws away from you. This way, he becomes used to your absence instead of your presence. Then, should you learn of his feelings, the rejection won’t feel as harsh.
» What he doesn’t anticipate, however, is that you take notice. You recognize this behavior almost immediately. Not only that, you call him out on it.
» “Azul, why are you avoiding me?” you ask as you walk into the VIP room. Azul pauses, surprised at your sudden presence.
» “I— well… What gave you such an idea?” he questions, attempting to play oblivious. You roll your eyes.
» “Ashengrotto. I know you better than most. I can see through that farce of yours. I’m not mad or anything, I’m just worried,” you say as you sit in front of him. “Is it the lounge? Studying? Do you need my help with something?”
» The gentleness in your tone warms his heart. His face flushes red involuntarily. “What would you want in return?” he questions. You laugh.
» “This again? Nothing, Azul. I just want to help you because I like seeing you happy. So? Did something happen?” you ask, tilting your head curiously. Azul looks away, biting back a fond smile.
» He supposes that, if you’re offering, he might as well get clarification on his situation. Of course, he does so without telling you it’s about you.
» After he explains everything, you hum a bit.
» “Well, why are you so hung up on what you bring to the table?” you inquire. Azul halts.
» “Pardon?” Azul tilts his head.
» “Well, what I mean is that a relationship isn’t transactional, y’know? It’s not about if you can bring ‘power’ or ‘money’ to a relationship. In fact, I’d say that that’s useless,” you insist. Azul hums.
» “Then, what do you suppose is the most important quality?” he asks.
» You smile softly. “Aside from being a decent person? Whether or not the person you like likes you back. I know you don’t like things being out of your control, but that’s the truth. I mean— you like this person because you simply enjoy their company, right? Not because they bring anything to you,” you explain. Azul nods.
» “That… is correct,” he mumbles.
» “Exactly. So, who’s to say it’s any different for them? If they like your company, that’s more than enough. They won’t need power, fame, money, or any of that. In a relationship, you and your effort are enough, Azul.”
» Azul’s eyes go wide as you explain that to him. While yes, it’s a simple concept, it’s something an over thinker like him easily forgets. He can’t help but smile softly and thank you for your advice.
» It’s then and there that he decides he must confess to you. Not only did he already like you, but the way you approached his problem with a level head and a kind demeanor only solidified to him that you completed him. When he approached a situation with logic, you reminded him that sometimes, it was better to be emotional. And when he got too emotional, you grounded him with logic. Above all else, though, you support him through so much.
» And Azul is nothing if not competitive. He refused to lose to someone else. He had to show initiative and confess to you first. If he does, you’d know how serious he is about you.
» With that, he quickly starts drafting up a few ideas.
✎ say the words !
» In the journey to come up with the perfect confession to win your affections, Azul faces many obstacles. The biggest one being his competition.
» Azul tasked Jade and Floyd to keep tabs on people who also sought your companionship. This resulted in the knowledge that, apparently, you were getting confessed to on a near weekly basis. Jade mentioned a few names, but they were all faceless students that he didn’t quite remember.
» While Floyd, with a strangely giddy expression, would always report that you rejected the potential suitor, Azul still became nervous. Would the next confession be a rejection, or would you accept? How would his confession stand out amid so many others? Were you even interested in romance, or did you already have someone else in mind?
» Eventually, Azul decides that collaboration is the best way to go about it. Attempting to find an idea himself is like talking into an echo chamber— it results in no progress. Initially, he turns to the twins for assistance, but they both give him eerie smiles. Instead of helping, they insist that it’s “fun to watch him figure things out,” thus denying any assistance.
» Azul knows he won’t be able to convince them otherwise, so he seeks help elsewhere. He considers a few options: Jamil, Riddle, and Ruggie, but ultimately decides that those are people he’d rather not be open and vulnerable with. Eventually, he settles on discussing the matter with Idia during their club hours. While he was certain the other lacked romantic knowledge, he at least knew that he’d receive brutal honesty in regards to the situation.
» “Idia. I have an inquiry regarding a personal matter,” Azul starts. Idia narrows his eyes at him.
» “Uh… I have no interest in your shady dealings,” he mumbles. Azul huffs.
» “It has nothing to do with my perfectly sound business practices!” Azul shakes his head. “Actually, it has to do with romance.”
» “Huh?! Romance?! Whaaat… so even a shady antagonist can have a heart,” Idia mumbles before continuing. “Uhhh my knowledge doesn’t extend beyond video games. Why bother asking me?”
» “Because I know you’ll be impartial. Anyway, I have a… friend that I’m rather fond of,” Azul starts, but Idia quickly cuts him off.
» “Not to ruin your moment, but I know who you’re talking about. You’ve got low-tier stealth stats. It’s obvious you like them,” Idia mentions with a sigh. “I mean, they’re oblivious to it, but still. I’m guessing you want some s-rank confession to woo them?”
» Azul pauses, shutting his mouth and huffing. “Yes, I want to… ‘woo’ them. I have no idea how, though. I’ve drafted countless ideas, but all of them seem plain. During lunch hardly seems romantic, and the beach seems cliche. I’m at a loss,” Azul admits. Idia stares at him for a few moments.
» “Please tell me this is some weird joke. Are you being real right now?” Idia deadpans.
» “What? I’m hardly joking! I’m truly at a loss. Why else would I request assistance?” Azul mutters. Idia groans.
» “This is like grinding hours for a total OP secret weapon, then not even using it in the final battle,” Idia mumbles. “You have your glitzy lounge, right? Close it for a day and confess there. Seriously, I’m a newbie in romance and I could even think of that.”
» Azul goes silent as he thinks about it. He’d always viewed the Monstro Lounge as nothing more than a business prospect. Though, the atmosphere was certainly ideal. He made sure of it himself. You did quite enjoy studying there, too.
» Azul let out a long sigh. It was so obvious that he almost wanted to slap himself for not seeing it sooner.
» “That is a great idea, Idia. Thank you. I’ll close it down early Friday night, then. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have many preparations to make. And a lifetime of embarrassment to work through for not realizing such a simple solution,” Azul insists, quickly leaving the club room.
» With that, his plan is in motion. Jade and Floyd, while not willing to help him previously, are now willing to help put his plan into motion. They ensure that the Lounge is fully closed that night and pass on the invitation to you. Floyd cooks a specialized menu Azul put together, and Jade helps decorate for the occasion.
» After everything is ready, Azul awaits your arrival nervously. Floyd and Jade keep him company, though mostly tease him for being so clearly anxious.
» “Azul. At this rate, I’m afraid you’ll break the seat with how tightly you’re gripping it,” Jade mentions. Azul straightens, pulling his hands away from the chair he’d been leaning on.
» “Eh? To be fair his nervousness could be faaaaar worse. Imagine if we told him what we saw earlier~” Floyd teases. Azul tenses.
» “Oya, Floyd. We said we wouldn’t mention that to him. Now look at him. He’s even more fearful than before.” Jade smiles simply. Floyd laughs a bit.
» “Ah, well. Too late~ You know, they got confessed to earlier. It was another random bottom feeder, but~ figured it’d be better that you knew,” Floyd sings, smirking. Jade chuckles.
» “It shouldn’t be an issue. I’m certain,” Jade says. Before Azul can pry for details, footsteps echo through the lounge. “Oh? Seems our guest of honor is here. Good luck, Azul.”
» With that, Jade leaves, Floyd following him out. Azul lets out a shaky sigh and turns to face you, putting on his usual expression as you walk over, eyes wide as you take in the decor. Dainty lights were strung overhead and gentle flowers decorated the tables.
» “Wow, this is pretty. I knew you were closing early today, but I had no idea it was for this. What’s the occasion?” you ask with a bright grin. Azul smiles, pulling out your chair for you.
» “There’s no occasion. It’s simply a gift to you,” Azul states, seating himself after you. You give him a teasing smirk.
» “What’s this? Azul Ashengrotto giving me a gift with no strings attached? Color me surprised~” you hum. Azul blushes and rolls his eyes playfully.
» “You're speaking as if this is a one-time occasion. I’ve gifted you plenty in the past, you know. Or have you forgotten my generosity already?” Azul asks, faking a pout. You laugh gently.
» “Of course I haven’t forgotten. I could never forget the generosity and kindness that rivals that of the Sea Witch. I dunno… I guess it almost makes me feel special!” you mention. Azul pauses for a moment before looking at you.
» “It’s because you are special,” he blurts out suddenly. Your eyes widen and you go speechless. For a moment, the silence weighs heavy between you both before he clears his throat.
» “Forgive me… I know you’ve already leant your ear to another for a confession today, but could you listen to one more?” Azul asks softly, vulnerability lacing his tone. You wordlessly nod, keeping your eyes on him. Azul shifts a bit under your gaze but persists.
» “I’ve felt this strong affinity for you for quite some time now. At first, I thought it was just a mutually beneficial friendship, but then… I realized it was more than that. I tried to distance myself out of fear, but you managed to stop me before I could get far. You’ve always been good at recognizing when something’s troubling me.” Azul gives you a fond smile before continuing.
» “You reminded me that relationships don’t need to be transactional. That I’m enough. I greatly enjoy your company. I know you don’t want my money or my power, but it feels wrong to confess empty-handed. So, instead, in this verbal contract, I’d like to offer you two things.
» “First, a promise. I promise to do all in my power to make you happy, and to be a suitable partner. But more importantly, I’d like to offer you my heart. I cherish you more than any other. All I ask for in return… is an answer. Will you accept my confession, and the terms of my verbal contract?” Azul looks at you with bated breath. The air is tense and you don’t say a word, but soon, a few tears slip down your cheeks. Azul’s eyes widen and he rushes to your side.
» Before he can inquire about your well-being, you wrap your arms tightly around him, nuzzling your face in his neck.
» “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for that? Great Seven, I’ve rejected so many people just hoping that you might eventually say something. Yes. Of course I’ll accept. I’d love to be with you, Azul,” you express happily. Azul lets out a relieved sigh, embracing you and reveling in the feeling.
» “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. You have my sincerest apologies,” Azul mumbles. You shake your head, pulling back to smile at him.
» “You’ll always be worth the wait, Azul.”
✎ at last , with you !
» Unsurprisingly, given that they were eavesdropping the entire time, the Leech twins are the first to learn about you and Azul’s relationship. Now that you two are together, they reveal that they’ve known the feeling was mutual the entire time.
» Azul gapes at them, angrily asking why they hadn’t said anything sooner. Naturally, they respond that it’s far more interesting to let these things play out without interference. As irritated as he is at the notion, Azul feels grateful. He feels much more sound in his decision since he had time to truly think it over.
» However, that brings up more curious questions to him. How long have you liked him? Who else knew of your feelings? Was he the only one kept in the dark?
» With a laugh, you express that you’ve liked him for quite some time now. This shocks Azul beyond words, but it also makes him feel elated and secure in his relationship with you. He can’t help but feel just a tad cocky. All of these people were confessing to you, yet you still chose him? It’s quite the phenomenon!
» Of course, as usual, you insist that he’s the phenomenal one. You waited for him because you loved him, and that’s a fact he should never doubt. Azul knows it’ll be a struggle to get past his insecurities fully, but when he’s with you, it feels like that goal is far more manageable.
» As your relationship develops, you two eventually find a nice balance. Azul is still running a business in tandem with his studies, so he gets incredibly busy, but you have your own obligations, too. You’d think that you’d have no time to spend together, but Azul goes out of his way to make time for you.
» Whether you’re silently reading in his office while he works, or he’s going over paperwork in your room while you’re studying, you two always find ways to spend time together. Even if it’s just being together in silence while you’re both working, Azul feels at home. Being in your presence is enough to soothe him.
» However, every so often, your schedules align and you’re able to go on a proper date together. Azul plans these as far in advance as he possibly can. The moment he notices that your free time lines up, he’s planning a proper date with you.
» Azul is (secretly) a hopeless romantic, so he adores having romantic dates with you. When caught up in a cold world filled with emotionless business decisions, it feels nice for him to be able to step away into the warmth of your company. So, his dates reflect that accordingly. Whether it be a private dinner or a stroll beneath the stars, he makes sure every date is one to remember.
» You allow Azul to be himself when he’s with you. He isn’t trying to run a business, make deals, or keep his grades up. There is no facade for him to upkeep when with you. He’s the same, sensitive octomer that he's always been ever since he was young.
» At first, Azul is still weary of being vulnerable around you. After all, you’re his beloved partner! He can’t stand to show a shameless side of himself to you. He wants you to think highly of him. He wants to show you his best. He can’t imagine what you might think of him if he were to show you that younger, weaker side of himself, let alone his merform!
» This all changes after his overblot, though. You easily notice the build-up of stress and the increase in contracts, given that you’re always by Azul’s side. In the beginning, you turn a blind eye to it all, but once your friends get involved, it’s hard for you to play clueless much longer.
» You assist in the plan to take him down, fully expecting Azul to hate you for it. Azul expects much of the same. He took things too far, and he hurt you. When you tried to get him to stop on your own, he didn’t listen. Instead, he pushed himself beyond what he was capable of and showcased the ugliest parts of himself to you.
» When he wakes up, you expect him to be angry. Instead, you’re met with a look of sorrowful shame. Azul can’t meet your gaze, face flushed red and eyes glossy with tears.
» “I-I’m sorry… I’ve shown you something so unsightly and I nearly hurt you,” he mumbles. He mentally braces himself for the breakup— for you to turn away and leave him behind. The worst part about it? He’s powerless to stop you. He’s lost all of his contracts, but he doesn’t care about that anymore if it means losing you, too.
» However, he’s surprised to find that you don’t leave. You let out a relieved sigh, smiling at him warmly.
» “Azul. I’m hurt that you went that far, but I’m more hurt that you didn’t tell me you were struggling so much. I love you. All parts of you. You didn’t show me anything strange. In fact, I’m glad I saw everything,” you explain gently, leaning your head against his.
» Azul regards you with a fragile expression, eyes wide. “You… aren’t leaving? Why? Why stay?” Azul questions. You hum gently, running your fingers through his hair.
» “Because one mistake doesn’t define who you are as a person. You’re still my Azul, even with your past, present, and future mistakes. I love you as is, good and bad. I’m just glad you’re okay,” you mumble. Finally, in such an intimate moment, Azul fully lets his guard down and allows tears to slip.
» “I thought I lost you, too. I don’t care for those petty contracts if it means you’ll no longer love me,” Azul’s voice cracks as he speaks. You gently wipe his tears away, smiling as you pepper his face with gentle kisses.
» “You could never lose me, Azul. My heart is yours. Nothing will change that. Now, come on. You still need to heal, so rest. I’ll be here when you awaken again.”
» Throughout his recovery, you remain dutifully by Azul’s side. He feels incredibly grateful to you for it. You saw the things he tried so hard to erase and accepted him in his entirety. His true form, his pain, his past— none of it phased you. If anything, it gave you a better understanding of him.
» Azul gradually returns to his usual, slightly arrogant self, but you can see the change clear as day. He still uses his usual dealings and business practices, but he no longer uses it as a means of coping with his perceived weakness. Instead, when he does feel that lingering doubt, he turns to you for support.
» And when he’s resting in your arms after a hard day of managing the lounge, he knows that he has no need to hoard power for the sake of protecting himself.
» After all, his heart is in the most capable hands possible.
» He’s yours. And that’s all he’ll ever need.
— fin.
#twisted wonderland fanfiction#twisted wonderland x reader#twst fanfic#twst x reader#twst#twst headcanons#twisted wonderland fanfic#twisted wonderland#twst azul#twst azul x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul ashengrotto headcanons#winnie-writes#winnie-wishes
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Cliva Theories
I thought I’d write my personal thoughts on the Cliva ship and how I imagine it playing out if it possibly does head down the romantic path. I also want to give my comparison if they stick to the platonic route.
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Thoughts on the ship generally:
When I learned that Viva was related to Poppy and later found out that she's actually her long-lost older sister, the thought of her falling in love with one of Branch's brothers sounded like such an adorable idea to me. Considering that she and Clay rule over the Putt Putt Trolls together, the pair already have an established relationship in the platonic and professional sense. The two seem to have a lot of respect for each other (which I'm sure Clay appreciates as he wasn't taken seriously by his brothers during his teen years) and seem to be the best of friends.
Viva appears to look up to Clay as her rock and confidant when it comes to her strongest fears and insecurities (something she struggled to open up with even Poppy). The fact that she’s been so open with him and trusts him with the responsibility of being her right hand man shows that Clay has proven himself as trustworthy and that he’s very important to Viva. She was obviously devastated by his betrayal in the movie, but doesn’t appear to hold a grudge due to her focus on freeing Clay from his diamond prison while Branch and Poppy were working on freeing Floyd. Obviously Clay is very important to her, not just as a right-hand man but also as a friend.
Despite trying too hard to be serious, Clay isn’t afraid to have fun and be silly around Viva, which shows he feels comfortable around her and she helps him embrace the fun side of himself while also acknowledging his desire to be taken seriously. Clay may also lean on Viva when it comes to handling his insecurities and frustrations (specifically regarding his issues with his brothers). I’m sure he appreciates someone as fun-loving and energetic as her taking over the responsibility of being “the fun one” and I’m sure he actually has fun with Viva due to not feeling the pressure of living up to his past boy band image. These two truly seem to empathise and understand each other as trolls.
I definitely believe that Clay and Viva have a shared love of dancing. Clay was obviously in charge of choreography for Brozone back in their youth, plus he’s famous for his Rusty Robot and later the Well-Oiled Robot dance moves. Viva is obviously a talented and enthusiastic dancer herself with lots of energy for crazy moves like flips and cartwheels. I personally would love to see more of these two dancing together, whether it be as two friends dancing together or possibly as a romantic dance fast and/or slow.
I think it's only natural that possible romantic sparks could grow between them as they re-adjust back into the lives of their long-lost family members and also accept that Bergans are no longer out to eat them. They obviously have a strong and special connection which they already built up even before they learned that their respective younger siblings are dating, so the possibility of them falling in love themselves does not seem that strange.
I have heard some people say that it's wrong and even incestuous for Branch's older brother and Poppy's older sister to start a romantic relationship because when Broppy gets married it will make them in-laws. While I do acknowledge for some people it may be weird for one romantic partner's brother to date and/or marry their romantic partner's sister I will say in the ship's defence that it is neither morally wrong nor incestuous for a husband/boyfriend's brother to date and/or marry his wife/girlfriend's sister. They are not related by blood or legal siblings themselves, so there are no reasons why they can't date or marry (with Poppy, Branch's and King Peppy's blessing). It's not that unusual for a couple's siblings to fall in love and eventually marry in real life and fiction (e.g. The Chipmunks and their Chipette counterparts in the Alvin and the Chipmunks franchise are some examples). Either way, let's try to respect each other's thoughts and opinions without judgement or harsh criticism.
I’m certainly open to this ship from a compatibility standpoint, but from a chemistry standpoint I think I’ll need a little more convincing as their limited interactions seemed more platonic in nature than romantic. I personally felt that Clay calling Viva “girl” sounded more like how a male would greet his female friend than how he would a potential lover. Although I have heard from some people’s translation of some non-English dubs of Trolls Band Together that Clay calls Viva “babe” which sounds slightly promising on the romantic side. Still you could easily say that was simply how the international production people personally translated the dub rather than it being the original writer's intention. Still, I’m certainly open-minded with this interpretation.
I definitely think like Branch, Viva will need some time to reconnect with her family and readjust to the outside world again, including learning to overcome her fear of the Bergans and coping with her trauma and abandonment issues. While well-meaning in her desire to protect her sister and fellow Putt Putt Trolls, I found her holding Poppy and to an extent the other Trolls hostage in order to “keep them safe” to be quite frightening and unhealthy. I only hope that to some extent Clay stayed with Viva out of genuine loyalty and care for her and not because he was basically held hostage by her. It would not be healthy for them to build any type of relationship out of fear and possessiveness.
Just like Poppy and Viva are adjusting to their newfound sisterly relationship, I think both Clay and Viva would also need to make some adjustments in their relationship as it changes with them being back with their families and learning to trust the Bergans. I’m curious how they’ll lead the Putt Putt Trolls now, whether they return to Pop Trolls Village or continue to run the Putt Putt Village together as they always have, but this time make it more welcoming and friendly to Bergans and give themselves and the Putt Putt Trolls more freedom to explore outside their home. I believe it will not only be good for Viva’s mental health, but will also help their own relationship to grow as Viva learns to be less codependent and becomes a little more interdependent with Clay. Plus, I trust that Viva doesn’t hold any hard feelings against Clay for his betrayal, knowing that he was only trying to save his brother. I’m sure she can empathise and understand him on that over knowing the pain of losing and parting ways with family.
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Here are two plausible directions I could see the ship taking:
Romance option
Perhaps over time, Clay and Viva begin to notice that their relationship has grown and changed as they've settled back with their families. They start to realise that their feelings for each other may be more than platonic and their partnership may be based on more than a purely professional connection. I imagine that they both may struggle to open up about their feelings for each other at first. Clay's brothers (namely John Dory) may tease him over his crush on Viva but are overall supportive of the relationship.
Clay’s brother’s teasing him over having feelings for Viva (3:51 to the end) I imagine Chandler as Clay, Rachel as Bruce, Phoebe as Branch, Ross as Floyd, Monica as John Dory and maybe Gunther as King Peppy:
youtube
Branch in particular empathises with Clay's struggle with getting out of the friend zone and being in love with an overly energetic royal. He and Bruce may offer Clay courting and dating advice as they are currently the only two brothers to be in happily committed romantic relationships.
Poppy is incredibly supportive of Clay and Viva becoming a couple and even offers to help them get together. She gets excited at the possibility of the pair going on double dates with her and Branch. Despite some hurdles along the way, the two eventually get the courage to confess their feelings for each other and eventually become a couple.
Before that happens, I could see a little ship teasing happening between them in this form. Perhaps Poppy and Branch have just gotten engaged or maybe it’s their wedding day and the two can’t help but get into a touching yet very awkward discussion similar to that of Ross and Rachel from Friends as they watch the happy young couple.
Viva and Clay ship tease example (0:05 to 0:34) (*Warning*: Sexually suggestive adult content)
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I could see the conversation playing out like this:
Viva: “Look at them, they make such a Fantastamazing couple, don’t they!”
Clay: “My baby brother and your little sister are in love and getting married. I never would have believed it.”
Viva: “Yeah, kind of ironic…what with you being my right-hand man and all. I guess it shows they were really meant to be.”
Clay: (chuckles a little) “Yeah, it is a pretty big coincidence, huh?”
After a few moments of silence, Viva finally speaks up again.
Viva: “Hey, Clay?”
Clay: “Yeah, Veevs?”
Viva: “Do you ever think…we’ll have what they have?”
Clay: (becomes noticeably nervous but yet also hopeful) “Uh, we, as in…”you, me, us: together”
Viva: “Oh nonono, not us (gesturing between the two of them) together (laughs nervously). I mean like, you with someone and me with someone.
Clay: “Oh, whew. (fakes wiping his brow) You kinda scared me there.”
Viva: “No probs, Clay. Just shake it off!”
Clay: “Right, shake it off.” (Clay shakes himself rapidly like a dog and Viva lets out a little laugh to which Clay follows after her)
Viva: “You make me laugh.”
Clay: “Hey, I’m the former Fun Guy of Brozone and your current right-hand man. It’s what I do.”
Viva: (chuckles, though she’s still smiling it looks somewhat strained) “Yeah…i-it would make things kinda weird if we became a couple wouldn’t it?”
Clay: (smiling but his eyes look visibly saddened) “Y-yeah, real weird.”
The two share a heartfelt but very awkward moment, hinting that maybe the idea of them being a couple isn’t so weird to them. They may even be visibly disappointed at the thought of the other thinking it’s weird.
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In terms of romance comparison to other fictional characters' relationships I would imagine a romantic relationship developing in a similar fashion to these character’s relationships:
Melman and Gloria:
Perhaps like Melman, maybe either Clay or Viva have had feelings for their friend for a long time but have always been too shy to admit their feelings, while like Gloria the other expresses interest in dating, completely oblivious that their friend is in love with them. Maybe it’s only when one of them starts dating someone else who later turns out to be wrong for them (not that they have to be a bad person) do they start to realise the strong extent of their feelings and they get the boldness to finally confess. Overall, in the end the oblivious friend soon realises that their best friend is actually the one for them and the two eventually become a couple.
Melman and Gloria moments:
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Melma and Gloria love confession:
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Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable:
Viva and Clay share a lot of similarities to Kim and Ron in that they aren’t just best friends (Kim and Ron have been friends since Pre-K, while we’ve yet to learn what age Viva and Clay were when they first met) but are also professional partners, e.g. Ron Stoppable is Kim Possible’s crime-fighting sidekick while Clay is Viva’s right-hand man in the leadership of the Putt Putt Trolls.
Kim and Ron as a couple:
youtube
Unlike Melman and Gloria in which one was simply too shy to confess their feelings and the other is oblivious to their friends feelings for them, it’s hinted a lot throughout the Kim Possible series that Kim and Ron share mutual feelings for each other but neither of them confess out of fear ruining their friendship. It was certainly confirmed to be the case from Ron’s side of things, while it’s merely hinted at from Kim’s side.
Proof that Kim and Ron had feelings for each other:
youtube
I could see either Clay or Viva being reluctant to admit their feelings for each other out of fear of their friendship being ruined as a result of their feelings being unrequited or their relationship doesn’t work out and they break up. I could see this storyline working well as their excuse in future Trolls shorts and/or films.
There’s a possibility that they may have even not confessed their feelings due to it interrupting their professional relationship, e.g. Clay was too focused on being taken seriously in his job as Viva’s right-hand man while Viva let her fear of the Bergans returning stop her from considering a romantic relationship with Clay, possibly out of fear of losing him too or she was too focused on her job as leader to consider what her feelings for Clay truly were.
With time for them both to reconnect with their families and time to readjust to the real world again, perhaps they both consider the possibility of romance in their lives, which possibly opens them up to dating other trolls but realising that they don’t have the same connection with their dates as they have with each other, leading to them realising that their feelings for each other may be more than platonic.
Chandler and Monica:
Perhaps they may go down a similar route as Chandler and Monica from Friends where perhaps they begin a relationship off-screen and try their best to hide it from their siblings, either because they don’t feel ready to tell their family and/or they’re worried about how they will react to them being a couple. Though when they finally do confess their relationship, I’m sure their whole family is very supportive of the two as a couple.
Monica and Chandler Love Story (*Warning* - Contains sexually suggestive adult content and possibly triggering fat jokes)
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One thing all these couples have in common is that they were all friends first before eventually becoming a couple. The female character is generally depicted as a bold and beautiful woman (seemingly out of the guy’s league) who while she’s generally strong and independent does occasionally struggle with insecurities (with maybe the exception of Gloria perhaps), while the male character is generally depicted as more comical and goofy but overall very supportive of their female friend and vise-versa. Perhaps they date other trolls or other creatures, but ultimately realise that they’re each other’s true love.
As we all picked up, they are quite similar to Branch and Poppy’s dynamic as well, only their roles are reversed somewhat with Viva being the more emotionally traumatised one and Clay being the more stable one who is there to emotionally support his friend/lover. Though Viva still has Poppy’s energy and enthusiasm while Clay is a little more cynical and organised like Branch.
If they do become a couple like Poppy and Branch I could see it happening in a slow burn manner with little romantic hints here and there. Though hopefully there are enough differences in their pairing that they don’t play out exactly like their younger siblings do and therefore their own relationship is still its own.
Platonic option
Of course, there's also the possibility that these two may just remain really good friends and later close in-laws when Branch and Poppy eventually get married. They may even support the other in their romantic relationships with other trolls/creatures.
In terms of other fictional friendships and professional partnerships I can definitely see similarities between Princess Fiona and Brogan’s shared leadership of the Ogre Resistance in Shrek Forever After to Viva and Clay’s shared leadership of the Putt Putt Trolls.
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They may also have similarities in their relationship to General Amaya and Commander Gren from The Dragon Prince series who have a very close friendship as well as a professional partnership much like Viva and Clay themselves. I feel if either one or both of them eventually fall in love with someone else I could see either of them supporting their friend’s romance as Gren supports Amaya’s relationship with Queen Jenai. Perhaps if Clay is one to fall in love with someone else (such as perhaps a girl from his Sad Book Club) maybe Viva would feel a little jealous at the thought of losing her best friend and confidant, but only when Clay reassures her that he’ll always be there for her as a friend does she eventually accept his new relationship and gives the couple her blessing.
Whichever direction Cliva goes, whether it remains platonic or heads in a more romantic direction, I am keen to see more of these two interacting with each other and seeing how they met and became partners in leadership. I hope their relationship grows with the changes to their situation and environment and continues to flourish.
I'm just glad that Broppy has become canon as their romantic chemistry was so obvious and I'm just grateful that the ship has sailed nicely. Whatever happens with their older siblings is up for debate.
#dreamworks trolls#trolls band together#trolls 3#theories#cliva#clay and viva#clay trolls#trolls viva#trolls#broppy#brozone#Youtube
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Trien: ...your world..really does love its wars doesn't it
Yuu, sitting on their desk, petting lucius: Yeah I know right? Anyways when the first atom bomb (Trein: first?) Got dropped on Hiroshima it actually vaporize most people instantly. It also seared their shadows into the earth and nearby building, so you can literally walk through the shadows of dead men. It was like Pompeii, kind of.
Trien: That's...Terrible, really. Pompeii??
Yuu: oh boy here we go... ok, so there was this city that was built at the base of Mount vesuvius in ancient Rome. But it turns out that Mt Vesuvius was actually this huuuge volcano!
Trien: volcano?
Yuu: yeah, a volcano! Most people just assumed it was just a dead mountain or a dead volcano- It was not a dead volcano.
Trien: Yuu, what is a volcano?
Yuu:
Yuu: oh sweet Jesus you've got to be kidding me...
Trien: who's jesus-
(I think that twst not having some of the same natural features as us is funny. I have also decided that twst does not have tornados or dust devils. I'm telling Riddle about tornado alley)
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm
I don't think there is anything to really suggest that twst wouldn't have volcanoes or tornados. But Tornado Alley? That's something I could see them not having. And it would absolutely not be something that borderline british boy Riddle would know about~
If you really wanted to freak them out though I would explain the concept of a hurricane party. I can't see the Twisted Wonderland boys doing that. Except for maybe Floyd or Lilia.
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