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#twisted wonderland n/sfw
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PLSPLSPLSPLSPLS DEAR AUTHOR COULD YOU WRITE A SCENARIO WHICH READER IS INSECURE AND FEELS LIKE SHE DOESNT DESERVE TO BE WITH HER BOYFRIEND, BUT THEN HE SHOWS HER HOW GREAT SHE IS?
(nsfw pls)
LILIA VANROUGE HEHEHHHAHAHHAHA
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REASSURANCE [ DRABBLE / NSFW ]
AUTHOR'S NOTE: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING, DARLING! I DO ADORE THOSE TYPES OF SCENARIOS WHERE YOUR F/C JUST SIMPLY SHOWERS YOU IN THEIR AFFECTION JUST TO PROVE YOU'RE WORTH THEIR TIME! I DO HOPE THAT WHAT I'VE WRITTEN IS TO YOUR LIKING! ENJOY READING, DARLING! TW: ORAL (READER RECEIVING), BITING LILIA VANROUGE X FEM! READER
"Keep those legs wide for me, dollface,"
Lilia purred, his voice muffled by the flesh of your thighs as he sunk in his fangs into them once more, evoking out a whiny and breathy gasp from your pretty lips "Now," He muttered, pulling away from your thighs to look up to you, bright pink eyes glinting mischievously "Why don't you list out the many reasons you deserve to stay with me, hm?" The finger that trailed across your damp core sent a shudder down your spine, the urge to just clamp your legs was strong but the urge to have that burning feeling in the pit of your stomach flare up was stronger
"B-Because I'm pretty," You stammered out, tears on the brink of falling down your cheeks as the fae let out an approved hum, sinking his face back between your legs "Because I-I'm sexy—ah!" A cry of ecstasy was ripped out of your throat upon feeling Lilia's tongue swiping against you in one long stroke; his forked tongue hot and wet "And the last reason?" He rumbles, face deep into your core. You swallowed down a whine, your heart throbbing against your ribcage painfully so "B-Because you love me," is what you managed to croak out before another swipe of his tongue made your brain into mush, the only words you're able to catch on from his mouth was "Good girl,"
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deluxe-rabbitsu · 2 years
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CW: Suggestive drawing 👁️
its not really that explicit bc i cropped it but u know...
Btw the purple separator will be used for content warnings such as suggestive/nsfw, gore or violent content etc.
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I did an art trade with someone and they asked me to draw Vil,,,,of course I was over the moon when I drew this because it came out so good?? Better than I expected:)
And more to the fact that I'm not good drawing men
Anyway look at this babe,,, I'm screaming without the s 💕
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I love Vil so much,,,what wouldn't i do for this man? 😩💖
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deathsmainchild · 2 years
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Am I the only one who wants Lilia to fuck them till they can't walk or no?
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merakiui · 3 months
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never-ending noctuary; love forevermore.
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yandere!malleus draconia x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, somnophilia, non-con, overblot!malleus, obsession, breeding, baby-trapping, malleus is written to have two dicks, spoilers for part two of book seven note - and sitting powerful on his throne of thorns, omniscience at his fingertips, the lord of malevolence takes a bride.
An eerie, all-consuming quiet has fallen over Sage’s Island.
It is frigid and unfriendly like winter. Harsh and oppressive like silence. Painful and abrasive like brambles. Time has come to a swift halt here, and with it the people fall into never-ending euneirophrenia. Delights so dreamy shall inhabit the minds of all who sleep, the grandest gift granted to those unwilling. Like fate itself, wound around every living soul, it is inescapable. Inevitable like death—unfair and unforgettable.
But then it is also peaceful and secure. Quaint and warm like a blanket. Fluffy and floral like spring’s first kiss. Solace is far sweeter when spent in oneiric solitude, and so it will seem for one-thousand years. Forevermore, stretched taut into the future, the dream persists.
Is that not the best blessing? To those who wish to savor a fleeting moment just a second more, is this not a wish granted generously tenfold? Rather than immortalizing the past with photographs, it shall never come to pass. There is no need for bittersweet recollections or tearful farewells. The present will persevere, lived out in endless dreams.
Surely this is the correct course. Not just for Malleus, for he is a gentle, kind creature who recognizes the mutual desire for interminable merriment, but for the entirety of the island. Although in hoping for love forevermore, he has shackled himself to selfish, Epicurean pleasures. The type which normally lasts as long as a vision spent on cloud nine.
Currently, sitting proud and alone on a cold throne, Malleus knows of no greater joy.
The party may have fallen still as the grave, bodies slumbering in stiff propinquity, but it hasn’t finished. The food may have congealed, inedible and decaying, but it is there. A testament to spirits kept aloft, if only to ensure no one ever knows the desolation of endings.
Paradise is what you make of it. Thus, should you hope for it, you can walk on the clouds in your mind and never know of Icarus’s plights. You can shed insecurities and anxieties and taste delectable metamorphosis. You can be anyone and anything. You can be strong and wealthy. You can be fearless and heroic. You can be an impossible ideal.
You can be loved.
Malleus watches your seemingly lifeless form splayed on the sofa, limbs draped over that of Ace and Deuce. It’s a tranquil sight, a marionette freed from the strings of somber, suffocating life.
Under a roof of thorns, you are reborn.
Paradise is wondrous for Malleus, albeit a touch silent. He wonders what you might say if you were to stand at his side and observe this eternal slumber party. Would it fill you with awe? With appreciation? With abject terror?
Perhaps there is no use in theorizing. He doesn’t need to know, for you will love him even in sleep.
He rises, taking each step at a time. Thorny branches and roots part to make way for him, a groom traversing the aisle in search of his bride. You lie still, secrets sealed behind pretty, plush lips, and if he was not the cause for your current state he might assume you were late.
But there is no death here. It cannot reach. It will never reach because Paradise knows not of death or suffering.
Paradise is the garden before the infestation. Paradise is the body before bacterial devastation. Paradise is love before departed lamentation.
Malleus gazes at your restful face, leaning down to trace a clawed, blot-tainted finger along your cheek. There are no tears; you are a doll incapable of such sorrow, sculpted to portray perfect neutrality. He is most pleased with this development, his chest rumbling with a triumphant chuckle. Now you shall never know an ending ever again. Now you shall remain here, safe and stagnant in his arms, far from the mirror that may allow you to return home.
Gathering your body in his arms, he lifts you from the cushions. You crumble in his grasp, head lolling and arms noodling at your sides. Sagging dead weight, but he places his ear to your chest to listen to the melodic thrum of your heart. You’re alive, frailty shielded from the horrors of the world. Here, in thorny idyll, you will live forevermore.
Historically, all rulers must have someone to call their own. Whether it be by way of arrangement or convenience, strung together for the sake of conjoined power or out of obligation, this is an irrefutable fact. Historically, all rulers must bear an heir—someone to carry on the glory of an ever-present lineage.
Malleus refuses to bring a child into the world unless they are given the blessing of the one thing he was deprived of since birth.
A mother.
You fit in his embrace, a puppet tugged into a one-sided waltz. He steps over fallen bodies as he holds you against his chest, following the routine even though you aren’t awake to reciprocate.
Historically, a married pair must share the first dance. Or that’s what he’s read in fairy tales.
There are no rings here; promises are left unspoken. He won’t entertain rejection because there is no room for it in Paradise. Every unsavory, horrid thing—pestilence and pain, death and destruction, and sadness and sin—is packed away in Pandora’s box and shelved. Malleus won’t risk opening it to release the tiny shred of hope desperately clawing for escape. It’s not worth it.
He will foster his own hope if he must, and she exists in his arms—beautifully motionless.
The steps are executed with care, up the stairs and towards a lonesome chair. He attempts a twirl, lowering you into a dip. Your arms hang limply, eyes shut in permanence. Brimming with fondness, Malleus tugs you back up to press his lips to your forehead.
“Dearest one,” he mumbles, “may you know many fruitful fantasies in the arms of Morpheus.”
He reclaims his seat and situates you to face him while perched on his lap. You slump against him, near-boneless. He smiles at you, imagining the ruckus that would certainly come about from such a daring gesture. Sebek would squawk at you to have more respect and dignity. Silver would tut and shake his head. Lilia would look on in amusement.
These are small pleasantries, little wishes he hopes to witness someday.
Historically, a married pair must consummate their bond.
Malleus’s fingertips flit across your figure, feeling fabric beneath his palms. He tries to exercise restraint and take it slow—everything in moderation, Lilia would remind him—but he can’t contain his nympholepsy. Your clothes are discarded at once, shredded to scraps in his haste. He moves clumsily, following the searchlight of intrinsic ardor. You’re softer when bare, he observes, peeling your bra from your skin. A pallid hand presses down onto your breast, the pudge of which caves beneath his fingers. He withdraws and it bounces back to its shape.
Fascinating, he marvels with wide, enchanted eyes.
Claws tweak at your hardened nipples next. He’s careful because you’re notably weaker. Even in sleep, he must mind his hedonism. Too much and you will break. Too little and he’ll be left unsatisfied. Malleus watches your expression. It was mostly neutral, but now your eyebrows are twitching in response to his touch.
In sleep, you are the most vulnerable.
He knows this because he’s peered in from afar, admiring you through a glass barrier while you slept unaware in Ramshackle. He would never do anything without invitation. Though it may not be in writing, your body is oh-so-inviting. And he indulges because he’s only known this fervor in the deepest, darkest dreams.
Curiously, in his pursuit of passion, Malleus happens upon the special space between your legs. Delicate like a flower, it’s the prettiest part of your anatomy. If he wishes to connect with you, to tie himself to you in unholy communion, he must acquaint himself with this sliver of seventh heaven. He’s never seen one up close; the sight is foreign but very welcome. He drinks it in, burning your form into his retinas. Two fingers trace your labia, stroking along flowery folds in V-shaped strokes. You twitch in his arms, an unconscious, knee-jerk reaction.
At some point, in the middle of his experimental exploration, Malleus begins to hum. It’s a soft, genial lilt. Low and soothing, the lullaby fills the silent halls of Diasomnia’s common room like poison gas.
He contemplates whether this is enough. Can you feel these sensations even when you’re so deep in your dreams? Perhaps so, for when he brushes back the hood protecting your clit to rub at it you soak his fingers. Lubricious, your wetness shimmers on his fingertips when he pulls them away to admire the very essence of you. Without hesitation, he places his fingers on the pad of his tongue to clean both. It’s a divine taste, proof of pleasure.
You cannot speak, so instead your body does so for you. A most bewitching behavior.
Malleus’s hand slithers back towards home, his fingers sliding in with surprising ease. Gummy walls cling to slender digits, embracing the intrusion as if it’s meant to be. With each pump of his fingers, your body warms. The sinful squelch of scissoring fingers joins his humming in a salacious song. Every now and then, you spasm in his arms, your lips parting ever so slightly to release a sigh or a breathy moan. It’s musical, a whimsy he’s only just discovered.
“My beautiful bride,” Malleus croons, “you will know love in my arms. Love forevermore, here in this sanctuary. Fear not, for I have done away with all that may terrify and traumatize.”
Pressure is straining beneath the belt, an itch that must be promptly dealt with. Removing his fingers, he shifts you on his lap so that he may free his cocks from confinement. Twin monstrosities curve towards his stomach; perhaps you’d have been frightened if you were awake to behold them. His hand settles on the small of your back, steadying you as he lines one of them up with your body. The tip just reaches past your navel. For a moment, Malleus ponders whether he might break you.
Careful now, he can hear Lilia’s chiding. Impatience will lead to injury.
He heeds the unspoken warning, lifting you with both hands until the head of his cock is kissing your pussy. And then, slowly, he lowers you down onto him. Your pussy stretches around him, a snug squeeze that only grows tighter with every inch swallowed. Malleus pulls you flush against his chest when he’s halfway slotted, his breathing staggered. Your body quivers, walls fluttering around him, while his other unsheathed cock presses against your navel. Pre-cum smears on your stomach.
He’s determined to cherish you, thrusting all the way to the hilt after a few determined tries. It’s a firm fit, but it’s still bliss. Hissing through his teeth, brows knitted in concentration, Malleus wraps his arms around you and fucks. Mindless, mostly, but with the intent to reach the only acceptable end here: orgasmic ecstasy. He makes up for the lack of motion on your part by moving his hips to meet yours as he rocks you up and down. Whimpers slip past your lips; he shushes you with song, humming through groans and grunts.
This is love.
Malleus thinks so when he positions your hands over his other untouched cock. The illusion doesn’t last long because your hands are quick to fall away. Instead, he grasps your hand, guides it back to his shaft, and pumps himself using your precious palm for friction.
You’re bounced up and down in a parody of consensual copulation. Malleus dwells in imagination, picturing you in a wedding gown. He considers what you might say, the vows you would undoubtedly swear, and the sweet nothings you’d exchange late into the evening. He’d twirl you across an elegant ballroom while everyone looks on with tender adoration and reverence. He’d show you the stars hanging just within reach, and when you’re swept up in riveting romance the sky is tangible and dreams are spun from sugar.
He’d place you on his bed, stripping you of your dress, hands trailing up to tug the frilly garter from your thigh, and you’d smile at him, open your arms and welcome him with mutual affection. You’d bloom for him like a moonflower, your heart beating in sync with his, as he fulfills the final promise—one so bodily imperative. An oath to disturb desolate halls with noise. To hear the pitter-patter of tiny footfalls upon stone floors—he can’t imagine anything more harmonious.
You would soften throughout the months, bright with that foretold pregnancy glow. He would press his hands to your rounded belly and feel squirming within, restless kicks and nudges. You’d discuss potential names over breakfast, and he would hover even though he knows you’re plenty capable. But he worries because you’re so fragile and fleeting. So pretty. So round with child. He wouldn’t leave you alone for a moment; you’re far too enchanting. Perhaps, in some distant future, he’ll lower to the height of your stomach and sing to the baby.
A smile would tug at your lips and you’d reach down to pat his head, running your fingers over his horns. And then— 
Malleus cracks his eyes open, his breath hot against your face. His chest heaves as he comes down from the high of domestic daydreams to find your stomach spattered with cum. Swallowing thickly, he peers between your bodies at your pussy stretched around his other cock.
Oh, he came inside.
Unexpectedly. Or perhaps not, for this was his intention. But once is not nearly enough, and he must fill you until you’re fit to burst—until it’s biologically certain you’re pregnant.
An emotion flickers on your face. Malleus mistakes it for jubilation, the type which calls forth a sunshower on your cheeks. He kisses the tears trailing down your face, ending at your lips for a chaste peck.
This is not the finale. It is simply the beginning.
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it-happened-one-fic · 21 days
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Hi, sorry to bother you but I would like to ask for a post from Leona, where Cheka is trying to get her two favorite people married (ie Leona and the reader)
Hi! Sorry it took me so long to respond to your ask! I had a bit of trouble writing this one, but over all I had fun too. I hope you enjoy!
Duly-Noted - Leona
Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fluff/ sfw/ featuring Cheka/ request
Word Count: 1790
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Leona huffed out a sigh as he watched Cheka play with you on the floor of the Ramshackle dorm from his relaxed lounging on the couch.
It hadn’t taken him long to figure out his nephew’s scheme when, as soon as the little fuzzball had appeared, he’d cheerfully stated that he wanted to come and play with you. Of course, Cheka had given himself as soon as he’d included his demands that Leona come along with him, even though he’d been to visit you at Ramshackle dorm plenty of times on his own.
Cheka was definitely fond of you, and Leona couldn’t really blame the kid considering how you patiently played along with the child. But that wasn’t what was really going on here.
What was going on here had more to do with Cheka’s pressing questions about why Leona so often told family members that he wasn’t particularly attached to anyone at school.
He could still see Cheka’s bright eyes looking up at him with an insistent frown on his face, “You know that is true, Unca! You like Y/n!”
Leona had snorted at his nephew, shaking his head at the child and, for once, was genuinely amused, “And what makes you think that?”
“You look at them the same way Papa looks at Mama. And Y/n likes you too! Why don’t you just take them home with you? Then you don’t have to worry about leaving them here while you visit us!” Cheka was as determined as Leona had ever seen him, but it was a drastic misreading of the situation.
Leona had plenty of reasons to not want to visit home, and none of them had a thing to do with you. But the moment he’d told the child that, Cheka had smiled. 
He’d been all but beaming up at Leona from where he sat on his lap, hands fisted in Leona’s shirt like he thought his uncle would run away, “But you do like them.”
There were moments, like right then, when Leona almost wondered if Cheka was more intelligent than his father. Perhaps he’d taken after his mother in that sense. But then Cheka’s hare-brained plot for tricking you and Leona into a relationship certainly hadn’t been well schemed.
After all, Leona wasn’t the only one who'd caught on. You had, too. Though, to be fair, Cheka wasn’t exactly being stealthy with his questions about how, “Wouldn’t it be great if we all lived together?”
Leona had fully planned on handling it, but you'd only smiled, shaking your head and saying you’d talk to Cheka about it, “He’s just a kid after all, and he doesn’t mean any harm. There’s no need to come down on him so hard.”
Leona had only eyed you with rising eyebrows before shrugging, “Have it your way. But he won’t drop this easily. He’s a stubborn little thing.”
You’d snorted, elbowing him lightly as you went by to rejoin his nephew, “Must run in the Kingscholar family.”
And that had been that.
Truthfully, Leona hadn’t known what you’d told his nephew, but Cheka had fallen largely silent on the matter of a possible romance with you after that. 
In hindsight, though, Leona really should have known better to think that was all there was going to be to it. Nothing was ever that simple. Especially when you or his nephew were involved.
He had to hand it to Cheka, though; he’d been completely caught off-guard when the child had suddenly questioned him about his wedding plans. Especially since it happened during a trip to Sam’s with Ruggie.
Cheka held up the little ring-shaped lollipop, and before Leona could even start to refuse to buy the treat for him, the child spoke with innocent curiosity, “What kind of ring are you going to get for Y/n when you two get married?”
Leona blinked, his eyes widening as he stared at the child who just stared up at him while Ruggie did a spit-take and Sam’s eyebrows lifted. The only sound that broke the silence was the occasional beep as Sam continued to scan items.
Leona finally frowned, crossing his arms as he eyed the child, “What makes you think I’m going to marry the Herbivore?”
Cheka frowned almost immediately, as if he were trying to mirror his uncle’s expression, “Y/n and you like each other. But Y/n said they couldn’t move in with us until you two had gotten married. They said people would talk since we’re royals and they aren’t if you didn’t.” 
Cheka’s expression slowly shifted to one of concern, his tiny hand reaching out and grasping Leona’s pants leg, “You are going to marry them, aren’t you, Unca? Y/n’ll be sad if you don’t.”
Ruggie only barely managed to contain his laughter in an ugly-sounding snort that had Leona shooting him a look while a smile began to creep across Sam’s face.
“Did they?” Leona’s gaze shifted back to his nephew as he spoke, his tone careful as he eyed the child. But he was already putting two and two together without Cheka having to say anything.
You certainly had talked to Cheka about it, but now Leona was going to have to talk to you about this.
Ruggie wiped his eyes lightly before kneeling, humor still flooding his voice even as he eyed Cheka, “Well, marriage is a pretty big deal, Cheka. Leona can’t just go proposing without putting some real thought into it.”
Cheka frowned, but Ruggie only titled his head, reasoning with the child easily, “Y/n deserves the best, don’t you think?”
Leona watched, eyebrows raised, as Cheka frowned thoughtfully before his tiny face cleared like a sun coming out from behind clouds, and he nodded, smiling widely, “Oh! I see! Leona wants to sweep Y/n off their feet like those princes in the stories Mama likes so much.”
Leona didn’t even bother hiding his groan as Ruggie snickered mischievously, nodding and egging on the child, “Exactly, so you’re going to have to give him some time to do just that.”
Ruggie paused, glancing up at Leona with a grin that had Leona glaring at him warningly. But the hyena beastman was hardly even phased as he looked back at the child seriously, his eyes sparkling with poorly disguised mischievousness, “We’ll both have to support him, Cheka.”
Cheka’s expression turned determined as he nodded before looking up at Leona, “Good luck, Unca!”
Leona sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out an annoyed, “Uh-huh,” as he watched Ruggie lead his nephew out of the store.
 He would get Ruggie for what a mess this was inevitably going to end up being, as well as deal with whatever the little mercenary wanted in exchange for his assistance later. First, he had a certain herbivore to find.
And he couldn’t complain that you were hard to find. But then you never were.
You were, as ever, at Ramshackle. Working on upkeep for the run-down building on your day-off, just like you usually did on the weekends when you weren’t working at the Mostro Lounge.
Leona didn’t even have to call out since Grim handled letting you know he was here for him.
You turned, blinking up at him in surprise, before a smile split its way across your face. Leona wasn’t really looking at you, though. Instead, he was staring at the busted chair you were apparently working on with a frown. 
How the crossbar had wiggled its way out, was beyond him, but that was evidently enough, what had happened.
“Leona! No little prince with you today?” Your voice was bright, and Leona found himself looking back your way as he propped himself in the doorway.
He crossed his arms as he looked down at where you were seated on the floor, tilting his head at you, “Nope, but a certain little prince did tell me what you told him the other day.”
You blinked in confusion before your eyes slowly cleared, and you let out a small chuckle, shaking your head slightly, “Oh, that. He bought the marriage excuse pretty easily, and at least that way I didn’t have to lie or something like that to him.”
Leona felt his eyebrows rise at your words as you twisted to go back to work on the chair, seemingly unconcerned by what side effects your words might have had.
“Yeah, but now that he’s found out we’re dating when no one else has, he’s going to report directly back to either Falena or his wife,” Leona pushed himself off the wall as he spoke, walking over to where you were.
You simply shook your head at his disgruntled words, a smile on your face, “I still don’t see why it would be so horrible for them to know. But even if he does tell them, they probably won’t believe him. Not if Falena is as concerned about your love life as you say he is.”
Leona frowned as he watched you before kneeling and reaching around you to help you support the chair while you fought the crossbar into place, “No, he’ll call and ask all sorts of questions or, worse, have his wife ask me all sorts of questions.”
You hummed, tilting your head slightly, “You’ll be able to handle it if it comes to that. But, like I said, I really don’t see why it’s a big deal if they know or not. I’d like to meet your family.”
Your words caused his eyebrows to lift once more as he glanced over at you, watching as a frown crossed your face.
You glanced over your shoulder at him, confusion accenting your voice as soon as you spoke, “How did you find out what I’d told Cheka anyway? Did he just tell you?”
Leona let out a huff, his ears twitching as he glanced off to the side, “He saw one of those lollipop ring thingies at Sam’s and asked me what sort of ring I was going to get you for the wedding.”
You laughed aloud, earning yourself a look even as you shook your head in light-hearted amusement before glancing at him, “Hopefully nothing like a Ring-pop. That would be hideous.”
Leona grinned, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder, “You don’t want something big like that?”
You snorted, shaking your head, “No. I think a rock that size, even a fake one, would be a little heavy.”
He let out an amused huff, turning his eyes back to the chair as he idly considered what sort of ring might actually be best, “Duly noted.”
After all, your thoughts on it all mattered too, even if you didn’t know that held actually had been looking at some rings already.
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Soft Yandere Deuce who is still very much a clumsy dumbass and gets caught by you...and you're into it.
The sudden loud thump from your closet after leaving the bathroom gave you a big startle and almost made you drop your towel.
When you open it a flushed and disheveled Duece is flat on his ass, having seemingly tripped, his pants and baby chick print boxers pushed down past his knees.
He's wide-eyed and scared once he sees you. Trying to cover his hard-on with one hand while attempting to pull up his pants with the other, he ends up crying.
Blubbering and begging, telling you how he is so so sorry and to please not hate him, he just likes you so much-
He's so upset and doesn't notice the smile on your face but shuts his mouth once you let go of your towel letting it drop to the floor.
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treysimp · 2 years
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I don't know how else to say this, do you want to make out on my couch? (Explicit Remix)
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Side: Riddle Rosehearts/AFAB!Reader (Reader has a vagina)
Riddle/AMAB!Reader
As per our vote (thank you again for voting!) Riddle is the next spicy couch series conclusion. According to said vote, next in line is Azul. Do you all agree?
This is a partial continuation of the work “Do You Want to Make Out on My Couch (Part 6)”. Said fic is also included below if you want to re-read the beginning or this is your first time seeing this work.
Reader not described other than their junk, and pronouns are not used for them.
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, M/F sexual relations, handjobs, PIV sex, ask to tag for more.
Want more TWST? Here's my masterlist!
To skip straight to the action, scroll to the next picture of Riddle, thanks!
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“Really!” Riddle sputters, his brows knit in irritation “you should…. you really…” he trails off, his eyes frantically darting around your face as if a puzzle piece would magically fall into place if he just had the final hint.
“…You should ask in a more romantic way than that.” He finally finished, fingers drifting to your tie to straighten the lopsided knot.
Your eyebrows involuntarily raised to the sky.
“Is that a no, house warden?” You ask. You wanted to start hysterically laughing, oh my God how could he possibly be so cute? 
Waiting for his response, you placed your hands on top of his to still the fingers that had been fussing over your tie. 
You were going to get him to answer your question in a forthright manner if it killed you.
“It’s not-not a no!” Riddle sputtered, pretending to wipe his mouth with his sleeve to hide away his increasingly flustered face. You noted that he had kept his other hand in your grasp though, feeling him shake gently beneath you.
“Next time I expect flowers! Or chocolate!” He finally shouted, pulling both of his hands away to cross them over his chest haughtily. You couldn’t hide the grin splitting your face.
“Oh? You’re already planning on next time?” You said, smoothing your hand over his ruby hair. 
Riddle seemed to finally register his slip of the tongue as his face lit as scarlet as the rest of him. 
“No!” Riddle practically screamed. You were glad Grim wasn’t here tonight, as he definitely would have woken up upon hearing this exchange.
You raised an eyebrow, “No?” 
Riddle’s gaze was fixed on the floor, face knit in irritation. 
“Only if you play your cards right.” He finished, turning his head away with a huff. 
You couldn’t stop the giggling that bubbled from your chest, God he was the cutest. How did he do it? 
Not being able to help yourself, you wound your arms around his body, pulling him close to you as you buried your head in his neck. 
Unsurprisingly he smelled great, like sweets and roses and some other sort of soft musk that was no doubt from some sort of expensive atelier. It was so charming the things he did to take care of himself for the sake of appearances. 
You idly wondered if there was a rule about smelling good in Heartslabyul. There probably was, but you decided that asking would only mortify Riddle further, and you wanted to get him to do more than talk to you tonight. 
Riddle was stiff as a board, arms hovering around you awkwardly for a moment until he finally relaxed, pulling you snugly into his arms. 
“Do you really want to kiss me?” You could barely hear Riddle mumble, his voice muffled by your hair as he nuzzled it into your neck to mirror the way you had been holding him. 
You pulled away slowly and held him by the shoulders, eyes boring into his shy grey gaze. You took a moment to take in the loveliness of his face for just a moment, relishing in the closeness you had never been afforded before now. The red eyeliner around his lashes, the rosy sheen of his heart-shaped mouth, and a tiny mole you had never noticed on top of his eyelid. So lovely.
“Yes. I do.” You said softly. 
If you could believe it, Riddle got even redder. He cleared his throat and seemed to make an internal decision, twining his hands behind your neck as he pushed himself forward to meet your lips. 
His lips were stiff but very, very soft. You pressed gently against him, massaging your mouth against his in hopes of loosening him up. It seemed to work, as you heard the smallest of moans as Riddle tried to mirror your movements, lightly sucking on your lower lip. It was shy, but also heartbreakingly genuine and careful. 
You both separated slowly, you wished you could take a picture of the expression on his face. 
Gorgeous eyes half open, glossy lips slightly swollen from the contact, he pulled the bottom of said lips into his mouth to chew on it lightly as he snapped his gaze to the side. How was he even real? His beauty shines like a fairy tale prince, and yet this gorgeous boy thought himself a villain. How ironic. 
“Again.” He whispered, pushing his face back towards you with more aggressive energy, seemingly having gained confidence now that the spell of your first kiss was broken. 
His kisses sped up and gained in ferocity, each time you separated for breath being punctuated with another ‘again’. His affection grew more demanding, his chest grew tighter and each breath became more labored. 
“Let me inside.” Riddle finally demanded, his hands curled into the lapels of your jacket. “I want to come inside.” 
You swallowed audibly and nodded, pushing the door open while Riddle pulled you inside of Ramshackle.   
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Now that the dam of tension had broken, Riddle was adorably needy.
He ushered you to the couch, pushing you down and continuing to pepper kisses on your face as he whispered little compliments and appreciations to you, almost inaudible between the soft smacks. 
Pulling his face away from yours for a moment, you stroked his cheek with your thumb, taking in the soft flush of his face and the way that his wide grey eyes scanned your face frantically for an explanation as to why you stopped him. 
“What is it?” He questioned, putting one hand over yours as he worried over his lip anxiously. 
You shook your head and stifled a laugh. Where did all that confidence go? 
“You’re just beautiful, is all. I wanted to appreciate it.” You teased, happy to see how much your every move affected him. 
It was charming to see the faces he made when he was overthinking, though you would prefer that he relaxed a bit more sometimes.
Riddle inhaled through his nose loudly and steeled himself. A strange reaction to a compliment, you thought. 
Riddle grabbed you by the lapels and shook you lightly. Face pinched in a clearly frustrated frown.
“H-how can you-! How can you say stuff like that so easily! It’s infuriating!” He huffed, then sighed, then buried his head into the crook of your neck. 
His next words were quieted even further by your skin.
“How can you say something so romantic? So… like a fairy tale…” He murmured. “I’ve been in love with you all this time and you just… come out and say this? How am I supposed to act?” 
Riddle was lost, trapped between happiness and panic. He had convinced himself that he didn’t need affection, he just needed order. 
Much to his discomfort, his thoughts felt even more chaotic than ever when faced with one of his most secret desires coming true. He couldn’t decide if the tears threatening to spill from his eyes were ones of happiness or sorrow.
“Riddle…” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his shaking frame. “Do you really want this? It’s okay if you don’t.”
Riddle bolted up to attention and shook his head violently.
“No! Absolutely not! I-I want you! Desperately!” His proclamation was a bit over the top, but it made you smile. 
Everything about him was just a little over the top after all, why would love be any different? It was what drew you to him. 
“Okay then… what do you want to do?”
Riddle hesitated, clearly puzzled over this question. What did he want? 
You sat in the comfortable silence for a moment, but it seemed that he was pretty deep in his head. You decided to offer your own option instead.
“Riddle, I want to make you feel good. Will you let me?” You asked, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at his face.
Riddle nodded stiffly and slowly crawled backwards as you rose to meet him. Eyes fixed on your lips while he tried to smooth out the wrinkles in his clothing. He was clearly doing this out of habit, considering the fact that his clothes being out of place was your fault anyway.
You approached him carefully, sliding your fingers under the collar of his shirt as you coaxed each closure undone, holding your breath as you got a peek at each additional inch of his perfect doll-like complexion. 
Riddle was visibly shivering, lightly gasping and leaning into your touch each time that cold fingers happened to make fleeting contact with his bare skin. Finally unbuttoning enough to push the shirt off his shoulders, his torso revealed bare. 
You started slowly, giving him unhurried and smooth kisses on his lips as you gently massaged his body with your hands. 
He was so unbelievably soft, but you could feel the slim muscles that lay under his skin as well, clearly having benefited from his riding practice. 
You took joy in watching the goosebumps form on his skin as you slowly trailed your mouth down his body, fluttering butterfly kisses punctuated by each little whimper and gasp that spilled out of his mouth. 
Riddle had clamped a hand over his mouth in embarrassment, and while you wanted to hear his sounds better, you let him have that one piece of comfort. 
It was cute, and unsurprisingly as someone who liked Riddle this much, you were easily swayed by cute things.
Finally trailing your kisses to his abdomen, you unbuckled his belt and started to make quick work of his pants, silently proud in how you could tell how aroused he was by the tightness of the fit. 
After getting his zipper down, you placed your fingers on the waistband of his underwear, patiently waiting to see if he would let you so forward or ask you to stop. You were willing to do whatever he asked of you. 
“Please…” He whined, a strand of ruby hair falling into his face and sticking to his cheek. You reached up and tucked the offending hair behind his ear.
“Anything for you.” You said, pulling his pants down teasingly slow. 
Finally springing out of the restriction of his underwear, Riddle let out a barely audible sigh of relief. 
You were surprised, quite frankly. 
He wasn’t hung, per se, but what he did have far exceeded what you would proportionally expect of his small and soft body. He was pale and smooth, petal pink at the tip, with a generous curve to the sky. You pushed back the thought of where that curve might be able to hit for later, you were taking care of him right now, after all. 
You gingerly ran your fingertips over the softness of his skin, keeping your eyes locked on Riddle’s face to see every change in expression and twitch that hinted at his quickly crumbling composure. He was harshly biting his lip, and you could see that his ever-present flush of red had crawled down from his face to his chest. 
You started stroking him gently, not too fast, just ghosting touches along him. You worried that too much too fast would overwhelm him, and you wanted Riddle to enjoy this for as long as possible. 
Gripping him loosely, you started at a slow tempo, watching the way his thighs would twitch when you ran your thumb softly over the bulb of his head. 
You had internally compared him to a doll, but perhaps he was actually an angel. 
Watching the way that Riddle’s back arched off of the couch in yearning as you began varying the pace of your pumps, you certainly felt like you were having a religious experience. 
The way his soft grey eyes rolled back in his head, the way his arms and body tensed and relaxed with each stroke, it was mesmerizing. 
You couldn’t take your eyes off of him.
You heard Riddle softly call your name, so you shifted your focus back to his face. Nibbling along his neck as your pace turned strong and slow, you started milking him in a way that made his hips harshly buck into your hand. 
“Yes, Riddle?” You cooed between barely-there kisses. “How can I help you?”
Riddle looked up at you with glassy lust-heavy eyes.  
“I’wanna…” He gasped, urging his length into your hand at a particularly harsh stroke, “I wanna make you feel good too.” 
His words were slightly slurred, and he looked almost drunk on the feeling of your touch on him, his gaze wandering from your hand to your face and back again. 
“Oh?” You tease, spitting onto your hand and adding the moisture to the steady build-up of pre-cum that Riddle had been supplying you with.  
Your effort was met by another heady moan and then a hand harshly catching your wrist, causing you to stop your motions in surprise. 
“Let me fuck you… please?” Riddle asked between pants, the hand that had grabbed yours clearly shaking.
You swallowed audibly with a gulp.  
Well.. you always were a sucker for cute things.
He made quicker work of your clothes than you had his, perhaps owing to all of the beautiful yet complicated outfits that we wore regularly. 
Riddle's face was knit into a frown of concentration. The process of him taking your clothes off was a little less than sexy, but his innocently-serious charm made up for it.
Upon spying the skin of your chest, he froze. Staring at the pertness of your nipples in the cold air and the softness of your skin, he couldn't resist reaching forward to cup your chest softly, massaging the area with tender care. 
“Ah.. that feels good Riddle.” You say in encouragement. 
If he really wanted to make you feel good, you were going to make an effort to tell him when he got it right. You moved your hands over his to knead your chest a bit more aggressively and to lightly pinch at your nipples. 
Riddle froze for a moment again at your demonstration, but quickly got the hang of the motions, causing your breath to come out in shaky puffs. 
Riddle had made his way to your bottoms, undoing your buttons and sliding them down from your waist. He observed the small wet spot that had been forming on your underwear with pride, knowing that he was the one making this mess of you made his heart swell. 
He hooked his fingers under the garment and pulled, revealing you wholly bare to him. His breath caught in his throat at the view.
“...Like an angel.” He murmured reverently, pulling you to him to passionately kiss you once more. 
How ironic for him to say that, you thought.
The hard heat of Riddle's length had begun grinding against your thigh, his moans matching the tempo of his length rutting into you. Hands returned to messily groping at your chest, open mouthed kisses spread across your face, neck and chest. 
Sitting back on his feet to catch his breath and the rapid beating of his heart, Riddle grabbed his length in his hand and stroked it softly, staring directly into your eyes.
“Can I feel you?” He asked, looking at you through his thick lashes. You nodded and opened your arms to invite him to you. You wanted to feel him more than anything. 
Riddle started slow, rubbing his tip up and down your slit to gather some of the moisture that you had been so kindly supplying for him.
Remembering what you had done a few moments prior, Riddle spit on his hand and ran it through your lips and across his length, letting out a slight gasp at how good the slick felt on his burning skin. 
Feeling as prepared as he was ever going to be, Riddle began pressing himself inside you slowly, pumping his hips slightly to allow him easier entry.  
Your breathing was heavy as you were using all of your self-restraint to not claw the shit out of Riddle’s back. 
After a few moments of heavy breathing, gentle thrusting and gasped praises, Riddle bottomed out with a loud groan. 
Hazarding a glance at your face, he was amazed by the bottom lip that was plumped from the friction of his kisses, eyes half-lidded in need and his cock completely buried in your body. 
He had to move. Right now.
Riddle knew that he had to start slow and gentle. While he would never admit to reading a smutty romance novel in his life, he certainly had tried to absorb all he could from the ones he did get his hands on. 
Riddle allowed himself to pick up a little bit of speed, electing to move from slow and shallow thrusts to deep and grinding ones instead, both of you groaning when he kept pushing just past the point of comfort. 
Your chest was rising and falling to the beat of his hips meeting your own, and he found himself varying this timing to see if he could make you move in different ways, delighting in how you might spring forward or arch your back depending on where and when he was hitting inside of you.  
“Riddle, faster…” You gasped, knitting one of his hands between your fingers in an intimate hold. Riddle nodded and began doing as you asked, slamming himself in and out of you, pistoning himself so hard that you could feel his balls slap against you with each thrust. 
Your sounds were unlike anything that Riddle had ever heard before, and he wondered if something as heavenly as this could be considered addicting. 
One more thing that he had recalled from a particularly steamy bodice-ripper was that there was a button above the lips that was supposed to feel even better than just his thrusts. 
Taking the hand that you weren’t holding off the back of the couch, Riddle placed two fingers on the top of your lower-lips, drawing messy circles with his fingers.
You held back a giggle (because after all, you were actually impressed) as you guided Riddle’s fingers to your clit and helped him swirl his fingers. The friction created a warm tingle in your toes, and you knew you were close. Based on how Riddle had lost all sense of consistent timing and rhythm, you suspected that he was too. 
“Riddle…” You shakily called out, willing him to look at you again, “p-please cum for me darling.” 
Your voice quivered between thrusts, but if someone could be described as literally having a fire behind their eyes, that was what it was like looking at Riddle.
Gaining to a violent speed, both of your moans and gasps and pleads building into a crescendo, Riddle held your hips one final, bruising time, as he finished and near collapsed over you. 
Not wanting to finish without you, Riddle frantically swirled his fingers over your clit until you released the loudest ‘ah!’ of your life. Riddle felt you clench around his overstimulated dick and almost felt like fainting, but he resisted the urge in order to watch your face as you came down. Both of you panting, sweating, shaking, an absolute mess.
It was the first time he could really say that he was happy having made one.
"...Prefect?" 
"Yeah, Riddle?" 
"Do you want some tea?" 
"What do the rules say about tea at night?" 
"I can't find it in me to care about the rules right now." Riddle said with a smile, snuggling up to your side sleepily. 
"Me either." You replied, pulling Riddle off of your couch for you both to clean up and hopefully get some sleep.
You were far too tired for tea, as cute as it was of him to ask.
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And there you have it! Did you like it? Do you want more of Riddle? Someone else? Let me know!
AMAB counterpart is coming soon and will be linked as soon as its posted.
Violent Delights Part 2 is also mostly written because I am out of control haha.
Love you reader!
Requested tags: @readinganas, @yandere-kou, @daeda21, @buckketboy, @kxhyuns, @aikochan4859, @prince-zukohere, @star-gods, @sarahyumiko2, @rosalie-in-twisted-wonderland, @chopid-lulu, @naniky, @kashasenpai, @the-mermaid-of-the-stars,
2K notes · View notes
Soft thoughts about being in a Poly relationship with Malleus and Idia
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Malleus spoils you two by buying you both a copy of basically every game he ever finds. Why two? In case you two wanna co-op! Also, he doesn’t want to make you have to wait and take turns, so he gets you both consoles to play it on.
Malleus tries to play with you two but gets confused and just ends up sitting between you two and watching. He’ll ask questions and even try to encourage you two even though he doesn’t know what’s going on.
Malleus even tries to get every piece of merchandise he sees for fandoms he’s familiar enough with to know you and Idia like them. He doesn’t tell either of you where (or how) he always gets the rarest figures (there’s only 500 of them and he got FOUR for you two).
Idia tries to pitch in by upgrading everything in Diasomnia and Ramshackle, so now both dorms have little cleaning robots so the dorm leaders (you and Malleus (((and Idia) don’t need to worry about keeping the dorms tidy.
Idia tries to complete with Malleus, worrying if he isn’t keeping up you both will lose interest in him, though it’s easy to see and you and Mal ‘punish him’ by sandwitching him into a cuddle pile until he stops doubting himself.
Malleus loves sandwitching you two but doesn’t like being in the middle, he prefers to be the one ‘protecting’. Idia once got brave enough to pull you into his lap. Malleus saw how happy it made you two so he lifts you both up and places Idia and you in his lap. (Idia screamed and grabbed you. He thought he was going to fall!)
-
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ashensgrotto · 9 months
Text
A Merfolk's Melody (Part 4)
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Characters: Yan!Floyd x Reader, Yan!Jade x Reader, Yan!Azul x Reader
Word Count: 13.5 k
Intro      Floyd Leech     Jade Leech     Azul Ashengrotto (You Are Here) Epilogue
Synopsis: The sea always calls to those who feel lost and alone, wanting to fill the empty part of their soul until they are loved and full… and as such, it’s only fair that the strange creatures that live beneath its depths would want the same as well…
Author’s Note: Another 4-part fanfiction courtesy of @merakiui ‘s headcanon of the reader being stuck in a room/wall (I’m sorry, but I just enjoy your headcanons and they always give me these ideas) -> https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/722393818829373440/in-addition-to-being-stuck-in-a-locked-room?source=share & https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/722677892623056896/about-the-stuck-in-a-wall-trope-in-the-oceani?source=share
Here’s how it’s going to work: each character is going to get their own part following the intro. It is going to focus on the Octrio again (bc it’s my current liking, sorry guys). If you want to read a certain character’s part, feel free to jump around and select the one you’re most interested in. 
Again, as stated before, this is a work of fiction; I disagree with any and all behaviors that are represented in this story.
****
Memories of childhood that often replay in one’s mind had pros and cons; the pros being that of a fond memory, a happy memory filled with joy, wonder, and excitement… the cons being that of a horrible memory, a dark memory filled with anger, hate, and disgust.
One of these memories was often one from when you were approximately six or seven; you had been at the tide pools on the far side of the beaches and away from the cabin by the sea. Your friends had left for the day, promising to come and play with you tomorrow morning - allowing yourself a bit of breathing space as you watched the little creatures that lived in the tide pools. Small crabs scuttled from one small pool to the other while starfish rested along with the barnacles and sea urchins against the multicolored stones and shells that lined within the pools. You would reach out and stroke the creatures - mainly out of curiosity, but also because you didn’t want them to think you were going to hurt them. 
As wonderful as it was - as adorable as it was - a shadow always surrounded it.
Five children - maybe two or three years older than you - would often come to the shoreline, not to play, but to torment the little creatures that lived in the tide pools - the same ones you often played at. They would laugh and tease you, calling you a bilge rat or a strumpet, sometimes throwing small pebbles at you or kicking sand into your eyes. Then, they would snatch the little crabs and starfish out of their pools, dangling the poor creatures around as they slowly dried out - other times flinging the defensive animals out into the open waters, teasing that they were feeding their ‘beloved shark’ that lived in the open waters. You would cry and beg for them to leave them alone - wishing harder and harder each day for them to leave you and the little creatures in the tide pools alone. 
And as the memory fades into the background, you could’ve sworn you saw your tormentor’s faces shift from glee to fright in a matter of seconds… and tentacles black as ebony appeared in the corner of your vision.
The memory, regardless if it was real or an illusion conjured by a dream, often played in the background of your mind following your boyfriend’s betrayal - the unwanted trigger that made it replay over and over again like a bad film you had seen countless times; and it was because of that unwanted trigger that your body floated down into the waters of the sea, pulling you into a much larger version of your little tide pools.
Rocks and sand dusted the bottom of the crashing waves while large patches of seagrass waved at you with the tide, the water murky and hard to distinguish anything beyond the length of your arm. Sand and pebbles floated around you as each push from your legs forced the water to kick up more sand and pebbles along with the occasional crushed or abandoned seashell floating in the murky depths. 
Opaleyes and Clingfish swam among the reeds and seagrasses, darting to and from as your shadow passed over them, while the heads of monkeyface eels peered out from between rocks that scattered here and there on the ocean floor. Crabs and shrimp of different colors and sizes scuttled to and from along those rocks, their eyes shifting about as if waiting and watching for something while the occasional little octopus floated from stone to stone - one coming up to latch to your hand as it's little suckers poked at your skin before swimming away. Starfish lounged on the rocks where barnacles grew and sea urchins rolled slowly across the sandy floors.
It was beautiful in its own way - calm and comforting.
However, there seemed to be a lingering fear that surrounded the area - a sense that something much more dangerous than any sea creature that lurked in the depths of the ocean was around. You would often look over your shoulder before ascending to the surface, intaking a big gulp of air before diving back downward - unknown to you that you were being followed and watched. Had you looked over your shoulder twice before each ascent, you may have seen several large appendages floating in the water as well as a set of sea blue eyes watching you from the tall seagrass beneath you - following close behind you and waiting to make their move.
As you took another plunge, you decided to use this time to look for a seashell as the ocean had lulled you to a state of calmness before returning to the surface - perhaps you could find a nice one to give to your coworker who had been so supportive of you during your time of need over the past month and a half. You drew close to the sea grass, your hands curling into the grass as your fingers traced the sand, searching for a seashell that would be a perfect gift. 
You had often collected them as a child and given them to your friends - they were relatively easy to find, often washing up on the shore as many were remains from a seagull’s supper. Remains of clams, cowries, and scallops often were found and strung on string, creating bracelets that were sold in souvenir shops along with conch shells, lightning whelks, and shells of shark eyes. However, one the most prominent shells that you had harbored in your possession had been a nautilus shell - silver-white in color and was about the size of a half-dollar coin. They were rare to come by - especially on the shorelines where the Nautilidae, the creature who lived within these shells, were out in deeper waters; the shell had been a gift from one of your friends, saying that it was a good luck charm. You always kept the shell close, strung on a braided string that clung to your wrist and went everywhere you went - the shell a reminder that not everyone was as they seemed. However - the bracelet had disappeared many years ago before you left for college, a heavy tide snatching it from your wrist never to be seen again.
Perhaps you would find it again as you explored another part of the sea grass - searching for the perfect shell for your co worker. As you searched in another area, your legs kicked a little too close to the seagrass as a strand wrapped around your ankle.
You kicked your leg again to remove said strand but the strand held on tighter and… became thicker?
You looked toward your leg and saw an obscenely large tentacle wrapped around you and slowly traveling up your leg. It was pitch black in the murky depths with an underbelly lavender-gray in color - multiple suckers nearly the color of lilac kissed your skin, leaving pale red circular marks along your foot, ankle, and calf. You pulled at your leg, but another tentacle appeared, wrapping around your other leg as two more gripped at your waist. You jerked and struggled before a soft voice spoke.
"Stop fighting me, angelfish…"
Your head snapped up, feeling your lips part as your eyes met pale sea blues and horizontal pupils.
Before you, entangled within seagrass and seaweed, was an octomer.
Octomers were typically shy merfolk that preferred the shelter of large caves - or grottos - much like how their octopus counterparts were, hiding in the dark crevices as they watched and waited for prey to come by and avoiding interaction with other sea creatures. The reasoning behind this was rumors and speculation of them being casted out by the merfolk due to their heritage and greediness - possessive to the point of suffocation - and were believed to be vain about their appearances; many of them were rumored to host beautifully colored tentacles in oranges, blues, yellows, reds, and purples. Some were also in shades of pale grays and browns and often used camouflage to help blend into their surroundings. Legends of octomers were also rare and the only one you had been told about was one who granted wishes - living in the darkest part of the sea off the coast of your little oceanic village and would come to the shorelines to make deals on behalf of the sea itself. 
As much as octomers were fascinating as they were an oddity and rarity in legends and among merfolk, they were also quite deadly. It was no secret that many octopi were poisonous - with enough venom to potentially kill a man within minutes if not treated like the blue-ringed octopi that lived in the tide pools and coral reefs. Legend stated that some octomers also hosted this venom - holding the venom in sacks that were hidden within their mouths instead of the beak that hid under their tentacles, though no one knew for sure. They may be solitary creatures, but that did not mean they would back down when placed with a problem before them as they were also intelligent beyond a doubt - having the existence of nine brains at their disposal.
And the one before you seemed to know exactly what it wanted.
The octomer before you was absolutely stunning - silvery skin with a kiss of pale lavender covered his facial features, chest and hands while his neck, sides, arms, and hips were painted black with little scales of deep dove gray littered the parts of his shoulders and tentacles. Eyes of pale sea blue glowed in the murky depths as silvery hair sparkled like starlight under the sun’s rays that cut through the shifting water. Strong cheekbones defined his face, a strong nose and thin jaw made him appear all-knowing; thin lips pressed together, a little black mole perched beneath - a little beauty mark that would be the envy of many. The gills on his sides fluttered in anticipation before his eyes flashed, brow furrowing as two more of his tentacles snapped upward - one wrapping around your waist and the other pressing over your eyes.
“Don’t look at me!” the octomer hissed, his voice softening, “Please… don’t look at me, angelfish… I can’t bare for you to see me like this…”
You were struggling against him now - unsure of what the octomer wanted from you and why he was now so entangled by you. Surely, you had never met before… right?
So, why did that nickname sound so familiar?
You felt the octomer shudder against you as you struggled, his grip tightening onto your form, “Angelfish… why do you keep fighting me? Did you… forget me?”
You wanted to say that you had no idea what he was talking about, nor did you know who he was - maybe he was confused and mistaken you for someone else. However, you really couldn’t at the risk of losing the air in your lungs that you were desperate to hang onto. 
“You couldn’t have… you promised you wouldn’t!” The octomer was now becoming desperate - though you couldn’t see it, you were certain tears had started to form in his eyes as you felt his hands grip your arms, leaving bruises as his grip tightened, bringing you close to his face as he practically screamed, “You promised! You promised you would never leave me behind! And yet… you did.”
His voice became sour then, practically murmuring, “... I suppose I should do something about that, to keep you with me until your last breath…”
You felt something dig into your neck - something sharp and painful as bubbles broke passed your lips in a scream as a fire erupted under your skin - your body suddenly locking up and forcing you to remain still before something was pressed to your lips.
“Be a good friend and test this little concoction out for me,” you heard the octomer whisper against the shell of your ear, “This… will help with that problem of yours.”
As soon as the liquid hit your tongue, you wanted to regurgitate - push it out and back into the bottle that was pressed into your mouth. Lips and fingers pressed against your neck, stroking and kissing as the unknown liquid eventually made its way down your throat, making you gasp as something rattled within your core. A sharp nose ran along your neck, skin suddenly thinning and lifting like fish gills as lips pressed against them - one on each side.
“Ah… how beautiful, angelfish,” the octomer whispered against your ear again as a shiver ran along your spine, “They turned out marvelously - just as I expected… perfect for my wonderful, sweet angelfish…”
You tried struggling against him again, but your body was still trapped by the bite and by his tentacles. You whimpered softly in fear as the octomer continued to kiss your neck, his teeth scraping the edges.
“Don’t be afraid, angelfish… you know I would never hurt you. The venom will wear off and you’ll be a free fish again - but I do intend to keep you close, after all…” you felt his breath tickle the hair on your nape as bubbles caressed your skin, “...I would never hurt the person who accepted my love at first, nor accepted my wedding gift…”
You felt something small and familiar wrap around your wrist - the familiar shape of the nautilus shell bracelet that had once been in your possession now returned to its rightful place on your wrist. A gasp sounded from you as lips pressed against yours before you felt the tickling sensation of seagrass surround you.
The octomer had pulled you close, his arms coming around to hold you close to him as his lips danced across your still eye-covered features, pulling you into the seagrass to keep you hidden from the rest of the aquatic life that existed around you. Tentacles trailed around you, moving and shifting as the little suckers that ranged from the size of small pebbles to large stones kissed your skin, marking you with bruises and as the octomer’s possession. Your body could not fight the venom that was still coursing through you, keeping you still as the mer worked you over, lips trailing from your face to your neck and to the top of you chest as hands and tentacles curled at the offensive clothing that kept the two of you separated.
He tore at the buttoned shirt you had slept in the night before, the fabric floating around you as the buttons sank to the bottom - his face burying itself in your chest and his hands trailed lower, pulling at the ties of your cotton shorts and ripping them apart as well in a desperate longing to have you bare beneath him. Bubbles containing sighs and gasps left your lips, but your new gills provided by the octomer breathed in for you, fluttering with excitement at each touch and kiss that was pressed against your skin.  
There was no preparation as something long and thin slipped into your folds between your legs, nothing prepared you for the heaviness that curled into your belly as multiple suckers kissed your entrance - bringing your body to life and weeping for the creature that had overpowered you. The tentacle that was wrapped around your eyes slowly released you, curling behind you to cushion you against the sandy bottom and the octomer’s hands rested on either side of you - his tentacles pulling and prodding at you, kissing your skin as his eyes glowed brighter as he took in your contorted features with every gasp and cry as his hectocotylus made its home within your body. He pressed his forehead against yours, moaning softly against you as you met each of his thrusts with your hips, gasping aloud.
“Oh… angelfish… look at you,” he moaned softly, a tentacle slipping between you to curl and press against your stomach, making you gasp, “Look at you with my marks… ah ha - I’ll have to do this every day… keep you covered with my markings… signs that you have been taken by me, and no one else…”
You whimper in want, the fire raging in your body pushing you closer and closer.
The octomer leans forward, kissing your ear and nibbling on the lobe softly as he whispers, “You… you remember don’t you? Our little promise… our little secret… Tell me… say my name, angelfish. Tell me my name… the one you gave me… what color are my eyes, angelfish?”
The words echoed in your haze-filled mind.
What color are my eyes?
What color are my eyes…
What color…
“Azul…” you whimper as his tentacles curl within your body, forcing your hips to snap forward and arching your back against the sand - creating a little cloud of debris.
“Yes, (Y/n)...” Azul whispers, lips digging into your skin, “Yes… my angelfish…”
***
Azul watched as he held you close - keeping you embraced in his octopot as he guarded you from the dangers outside, his tentacles still tracing over your body that was now plush with his eggs. You had fainted during the last round and although he still had more to give you, frightening him for a moment but quickly realizing you needed rest before you could take any more. He would hold onto the remaining eggs until you awoke - then he would take you again until every last egg was safe within you. Once that was complete, he would take you back to his cave - keep you hidden within a special room until the time came for the eggs to hatch.
It was hard to believe he had found you again after so long - a nearly forgotten promise reminding him of how much you meant to him.
He remembered the little girl on the shoreline, crying out as a group of boys tormented the little creatures within the tidepools, begging for them to stop. At first, he - the little octo-twerp - did not understand why you were crying, why you were so adamant about protecting creatures that were weaker than you. As he continued to watch you from his hiding spot with each passing day - and how you played with the Leech twins of all people - Azul slowly realized that you were a part of the sea, someone that was born human but had merfolk qualities. He admired your strength and cried at your weakness, wanting nothing to go to you and comfort you - he knew you better than you knew yourself, after all. It took courage on his end, but he approached you - nervous about his appearance. 
At first, you were startled by his approach - most anyone would have been.
But, then, you smiled and asked if he knew Jade and Floyd - and thus the friendship between the four of you began. You all would play near the water, letting the waves crash over you and revealing their true forms to your eyes only - laughing as they splashed you and pulled you into the sounding waves. You would lounge in content by the tidepools, watching the little creatures as they lurked under the water and continued their daily lives. It was years later that Azul presented you the nautilus shell bracelet that would be your promise to him for a life together - just the two of you.
Then, you disappeared.
Jade and Floyd, who now worked with Azul as his eyes and ears in their part of the waters, indicated that your family had moved closer to inland - there was no way for the tides to reach you, nor for you to reach them. Azul had slumped for years, continuing his research and deciding to try to formulate a potion that would allow him to seek you out.
However, that was cut off when his mating urges began. All he could do was swim to shallow warmer waters, his thoughts only of you as he writhed in want and pain, so desperate to feel you beneath him - to hold him and never let him go. 
It was lucky that you had swam out to open waters and had alerted him of your presence, a welcoming sight for the octomer who thought he had lost his whole world six years ago.
His gaze flicked from the entrance of the octopot to your form resting in his arms and tentacles - bubbles appearing as you inhaled and exhaled against him. Azul smiled and nuzzled the crown of your head with his cheek, content to have you by his side again.
“Sweet angelfish… stay with me, my darling… stay and be mine…”
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3cremepie3 · 3 months
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Hiii!
Can I request some angst with a happy ending with Malleus and Fem reader?
Like they get into a super bad argument cause of a misunderstanding and reader says a lot of nasty stuff. He now really thinks everybody hates him. But in the end reader apologizes and clears the misunderstanding. A kiss and make up fic?
You don’t say?
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Synopsis - Y/n has changed for the worse. Their relationship hasn’t been affected until one night were the spark between Malleus and them falters. Malleus x gender neutral reader agnst and fluff!
Warnings - jealousy, cussing, depressive thoughts, degradation, accusations, Y/n is a bitch. Not proofread!
A/n - I was gonna do a whole series like this like 6 months ago with the twst dorm leaders. Thanks for brining this back 💋.
“He’s definitely my favorite person here.” You exclaimed hugging your best friend Leona tightly. His tail wrapped around you pulling you excessively closer. The crowd of your friends around you chuckled at your remark. Saying how cute your bond had grown. And how Leona was only such a softie for you.
Malleus watched in the corner his mood quickly growing sour. The air in the room grew tense but you were too caught up in Leona to tell. Other people quickly moved from around him scared of the Fae’s capabilities.
Leona caught wind of the tension shooting Malleus a wink as you cuddled him. Malleus's hand gripped the desk chair quickly splitting the wood. The chatter around you was too loud for anyone to notice. But the next person to sit there would fully fall through.
Malleus sprung up and walked out of the room. “What’s he doing,” you asked. “I’m gonna go see what’s up with him guys brb,” you waved. Your groups of friends snickered predicting the bickering that was about to happen.
“Mal stop walking so fast.” You heaved trying to catch up with him. His steps were much larger than yours and you were quickly left jogging next to him. “Why are you leaving we just got here. You begged me to get you an invite why have you changed your mind?”
He came to a sudden halt and you crashed into him. You rubbed your sore face as he faced you. “I thought I was your number one Y/n?” He asked a sad glint in his eyes further apparent from the soft moonlight. The cold air from the open hallway felt like it had knocked you over. “Yes, how could you ask that Mal.”
“You know I love you.” You reassured him squeezing his hand in a tight clasp. “Well, it doesn’t feel that way. Today you invited me out and I get it that I don’t tend to go over well, especially with others but I felt excluded.”
“And then that damn lion being so close to you,” he sighed. He wasn’t able to finish his sentence before you cut him off. “You have gotta stop being so insecure Mal!” You scoffed then rolled your eyes. “Aren’t you a king? You need to act like one then and not like a little boy.”
“Jesus I understand I’m fine but there’s no need for you to be this clingy,” you chuckled. “What I’m saying is there’s no need for you to act like such a loser. You can have a social life if you just get yourself out there. FYI you have to stop being such a coward to do so,” you ranted.
Malleus had never heard you speak to someone in such a rude manner. “I can tell this is your so-called new friend's mannerisms rubbing off on you. Because my love you have changed drastically.” He dropped your hands off of yours the look on his face turned to a disappointed one. “My friends are amazing for your information don’t be mad because you don’t have an asshole,” you spat.
“It’s hard to find people who cherish you,” he admitted. “And here I thought I had one only to be mistaken this whole time.” You would never see Malleus cry he promised himself that once you got into a relationship. But this is the closest you would see him to a breakdown. He bit his lip not wanting to say anymore and his head hung low as he walked away.
Your mind quickly replayed what you had told him regretting it deeply. But you stood in the dark hallway your body held down by shame for too long. By the time you checked for Malleus running around the dark empty hallways until you were out of breath, he was gone.
It didn’t take long for you to find him the next day. And you tried to go up to him but you couldn’t get a word in as Sebek looked at you infuriated. Never had you seen him so red in your entire life. Your face felt hot since he was glaring daggers at you in class. “What’s up with him,” your friend asked? “He’s mad because Malleus and I got into a fight.”
“Ha, really what happened?” It’s not funny and I don’t want to talk about it,” you sulked. “Come on don’t be extra you’ll be okay you’re the bachelor/ bachelorette of this campus you’ll be fine!” No I won’t be fine I fucking loved him,” you screamed.
Your face grew red from embarrassment why did you blow up on your friend like that? You ran out of class surely you were gonna get written up but you didn’t care. You collapsed in the hallway exhausted from all your pent-up anger with yourself.
“I’m so fucking stupid,” you hissed. “Yeah, I’m glad you realized that part,” Ace giggled. “Hey go easy on them can’t you see their upset,” Duece protested. “They didn’t go easy on when they betrayed us for those idiots. Don’t you remember that feeling of humility Duece,” Ace questioned.
Duece sighed having lost their quick argument. “Ace is right,” you frowned. “I a fucking nobody lost my king,” you cried. “Um Y/n you’re making a scene.” You could feel the stares of others around you. You sat up moping out of public view. Ace and Duece followed you around a bit trying to console you.
“It couldn’t have been that bad right?” He said I’m no longer his sweet girl god I want to throw up.” Your voice cracked with sadness. “And I called him an insecure loser without thinking of his feelings,” you added. Ace and Duece gasped.
“You called the future king of Briar Valley a loser,” Ace yelped. “Yes,” you muttered. “Wow, Y/n I’m glad he humbled you honestly,” Ace snickered. “Ace stop it’s clear they didn’t mean it. But seriously Y/n you do have some major audacity. It’s grown considerably in the past couple of months,” Deuce spoke.
You thought about what they had said to you as you walked back in class sitting with your head down on the table. Have you really changed that much over the past couple of months? And why were you undermining everyone else’s feelings? As Malleus would say to you “there’s no need to dwell on the past.”
You would have to sort things out immediately. That's why you snuck into his dorm skipping your last period to do so. You hid in his wardrobe squished between his fancy clothing. His clothes smelled like him and you couldn’t help but inhale them. God it had only been a day and you missed him so much.
You waited and waited for what felt like forever until you finally heard shuffling outside of the wardrobe. Heavy footsteps moved around his room. They grew fainter the clicking sound of his shoes disappearing indicating he took them off.
Your heart started to beat faster as you felt him creeping more and more towards you. “Malleus!” Lila called out to him stopping him in your tracks. “Coming.” His deep voice boomed. God, he was so close to you centimeters away from discovering your position.
But you heard as he walked out of the room answering Lila’s beckoning. You let out a breath relieved and you returned to the comfort of his clothes against your back. That comfort quickly was snatched from you as you were slammed out of the closet. Your body raged with pain as you were held in a chokehold. “Found them,” Silver screamed out.
His angry expression soon fell realizing it was you and not an assassin. “Oh, it’s just you Y/n?” God, I’m sorry,” he winced looking as though he was in more pain than you. Malleus and Lila rushed in with the announcement of your name. “Silver go get Sebek and call off code red.” I’ll leave you two alone.” Lila shut the door behind you and Malleus. You continued to cough still feeling Silvers strong gasp on your throat lingering on your skin.
Malleus stood in the corner not shooting a glance your way. You were the first to talk still out of breath. “That wasn’t supposed to happen,” you laughed. But he stood with his arms crossed not amused. “Listen Mal I came here to say I’m sorry. I would’ve talked to you normally but I know Sebek wouldn’t have allowed me.”
“Today in class his glare was so sharp it practically killed me. You chuckled but it died off quickly and awkwardly. Everything was quiet even the activity outside seemed to stop. “I’m sorry Malleus.” You stood up trying to meet his eyes but he remained neutral. “You were right I’ve changed recently. I don’t know if it’s the pressure of this new world getting to me but I’ve become corrupted.”
“I can’t only blame others. I’ve been stupid enough to not see the greatness of what I had. Those months we spent together just lazing around at ramshackle were my happiest ones.” For a minute you thought you still weren’t getting through to him but his weight shifted as he turned towards you.
“I let others flattery get to my head so much that I started to believe it. That was my fault I should’ve known to never trust them. Most of them just wanted to get in my pants like you warned me. But I never listen because I want to believe that people just like me for me.”
“They only want my body so they could experience an “out of this world experience”,” you mocked. “And I was too delusional to listen to you. So I tried to change that by making friends. But I never considered your feelings and how I should have boundaries with them.”
“I was the coward who was too scared to put her relationship before her useless social life.” I pushed so many people away,” you cried. “Fuck I’ve lost everyone important and I still don’t understand why you were mad at me before that,” you wailed.
“I’m sorry Malleus I’m an idiot.” He huffed walking over to you. His hand-picked up your drooping head. “It’s hard to stay mad at you for long even if you’re being bitchy.” You gasped you had never heard him swear. But you deserved it. “I heard about you crying on campus. Silver and Sebek saw you and reported it to me.”
“Thank you for apologizing Y/n what you said hurt my love. But I’m willing to forgive you.” Really,” you exclaimed. “I’m so so sorry Mal you’re not a loser or a coward and you are a perfect king. I was only projecting.” You hugged him so tightly you thought your arms were gonna break. He laughed and your face lit up seeing a familiar sight.
“Promise me one thing, my love?” Hmm,” you perked. “You’ll stop hanging out with that lion and his crew they're ruining you. And that smug bastard is trying to take you from me. He thinks he’s slick.” You heard thunder crack outside with Malleus's statement pushing you even closer to him.
“Sorry I got a bit worked up,” he smirked. “I was just imagining the things I would do to him if he ever got too close.” You said he was your favorite person after all.” I meant he was my favorite beast person in my friend group Mal!” Why would I put him over you?”
“I must’ve misheard you then.” Wow, we were fighting the whole time over this,” you laughed. “I could’ve avoided hurting you.” But then we wouldn’t have reconnected,” he frowned. “You’re right Mal I say let’s kiss and make up.”
“Let’s do just that.” He said locking your lips either his. It had been a while since you last felt a kiss this passionate. You didn’t want to stop breathing no longer matter as you smothered each other. You fell onto his lap looking up at his face which was admiring yours. As stole another kiss from him you felt a change brewing between you. A good one.
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leeyd · 2 months
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Mdni
Dom riddle rosehearts. That's it. That's the post.
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WELL DESERVED MEAL [ FIC / NSFW ]
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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I DECIDED TO POST THIS IN A CLIFF HANGING WAY SINCE I HAVEN'T WROTE A SINGLE WORD TO IT AFTER MY INSPIRATION AND MOTIVATION FOR THE IDEA DIMINISHED.... REGARDLESS OF THE WAY HOW I LEFT THINGS, I HOPE ALL OF YOU ENJOY READING IT REGARDLESS!
TW: CUSSING, PETNAMES ( SWEETHEART, PRINCESS, BUNNY ), MENTIONS OF KNOTTING, IMPLIED BREEDING KINK, CONSENTED GANGBANG (????), MANHANDLING (?), THREE IN ONE HOLE ( YES, THREE. STRETCHY MAGIC GO BRRRRRRRR )
SAVANACLAW TRIO X FEM!READER
"Fuck, you're so tight for us, sweetheart"
He growled into your ear. Leona's calloused hand squeezed your breast, evoking out a whimper from your throat "Might make us think you actually want us to use you, princess" It was the hyena's turn to grab them, fingers skillfully pinching your perky nipples, making you dig your nails into his forearm even more. "It's so warm being inside you, bunny. Can't wait to knot you full with our cum.." Jack let out groan as he held your legs up, efficiently spreading them wider for the three of them to thrust inside your sopping cunt.
The male lion chuckled lowly at how whiny you were getting, head thrown back as you pulled Ruggie more into your embrace; legs limp in the hands of Jack. It was YOUR idea after all, you offered yourself to them and how could they, as beasts, reject such a hearty meal? With a body like yours, the temptation was inducing and they wholly succumbed to it; likewise how they're balls in deep, their hard tip stroking your insides deliciously. You felt full, so full from having to take in three eager cocks that want to paint your womb white with their seed.
It doesn't help how Leona held your sweater in one hand before ripping the fabric away from your skin, throwing it in some corner of the room before smoothing over your breasts, lazily massaging them as he bucked his hips into you; eliciting out a hiss from the other two. "As much as I want these on..." Following suit, the wolf's hands lowered and lowered until it rested upon your thigh, fingers digging under the smooth silky fabric held by the garter belt. It was as if he knew what they were and how easy it was to make them undone, he was always full of surprises. Without so much of a second thought, Jack ripped off the stockings. The sound of nylon being torn bounced off the walls; albeit even more louder than the sound of your moans. "I think I like the feeling of your skin under my hands more, bunny"
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After a hot minute, I present my next gift art to @merakiui
It's an eel boi- specifically scummy/sleazy eel boi. He's one of my favorites that you've written, and I just can't Mera, I can't. He's a problem for me (in a good way).
Just aaaaAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH- I had to actively change a few things as I was working on this as I wanted to try and make him as close as I could how I saw him. Lemme know how much of the detail you see. And somehow I can totally see scummy/sleazy floyb with this shirt.
The tattoo on his left arm made me upsetti- I was trying to go for a goblin shark skeleton, but like half of its face had to be cut off- and then the eel skeleton tattoo was a menace. (When I think scary sea creatures- goblin sharks immediately pop to the forefront of my brain)
He's under the cut, as I'm not sure if it's age appropriate or sfw???? It's borderline imo, but I'd rather be safe than sorry.
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dearestones · 1 year
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Clothes Maketh Man (Yandere! Azul Ashengrotto x Reader)
Warnings: Yandere character, yandere behavior, manipulation, victim blaming, slight NSFW (nonconsensual touching and kissing). 
*Note: Gift for 500 followers, also first NSFW work hahahah. 
@lilyalone Request: Thank you so much!!! I’m so honoured to be your 500th follower, could i request yandere Azul (twst) buying stuff and choosing clothes for his darling and maybe a bit of light nsfw after (you don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable)
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Silk. 
Lace.
Cashmere.
Azul always had an eye for fabric and the price tags that came with them. Even when he had been a guppy swimming and scheming in the sea, he knew that the clothes that humans, beastfolk, and fae liked to wear always bore significance. It was akin to the way some of the high ranking merfolk would wear jewelry or baubles that they either scavenged from shipwrecks or traded from willing landfolk. In envy, Azul would watch some of his wealthier classmates parade around with sparkling gems hanging around their necks or dangling around their tails. Even his mother, hard working as she was, would sigh quietly to herself as she worked herself to the bone making her restaurant a success under the sea. 
In the end, the Ashengrottos became a household name, but Azul had grown up before all that. His childhood was spent looking for ways to advance himself, to become a version of himself that far outshone and dazzled brighter than any other merfolk. 
And when Azul was selected to go to Night Raven College as one of the very few to enter such a prestigious institution, he had felt that all of his aspirations and goals were coming true. All he had to do, he thought, was expand his business ventures, create more contracts, and succeed academically. He had no need for meaningful friendships. After all, socializing with others was nothing more than a game of chess: all memorized strategies and quick thinking. 
Azul would do anything to make himself the most successful and prized student of Night Raven College and soon, the world’s greatest mage of all time. 
And that included wearing the finest.
Clothing was restrictive, colors could easily clash. However, Azul was a quick study and even quicker to amass the money and resources to attain the clothes that he needed. It had taken time and the majority of his funds did have to go to the Mostro Lounge, but he did end up buying a closet full of clothes that could put the majority of Pomefiore to shame. Although his clothes were not as expensive as the garments the heir to the Asim family fortune would wear or match the regality of the royalty from Savanaclaw and Diasomnia, Azul felt that he could match up to them.
And then—
When Azul had placed himself in the top ranks of most of his classes—
When Azul had created hundreds of contracts to counteract all of his shortcomings—
When he had forged enough social connections to ensure that he would never be at a loss to whom he could contact for the smallest of favors—
You came stumbling into his life.
Well, you hadn’t exactly stumbled into his life, but you did manage to give off the impression that running around with a flaming cat—weasel? raccoon? gremlin?—monster was a normal, average thing to do in your everyday life. While the chamber of mirrors sustained a lot of damage, Azul was somewhat gratified that he showcased both his offensive magic and willing cooperation to work with the Housewarden of Heartslabyul. Hopefully, that would be enough to convince the Headmage that he deserved the decrepit little building on campus to be an extension to Mostro Lounge. 
But then you were made Prefect of the now called Ramshackle Dorm. (Talk about a horrible name. First impressions were everything and the Headmage was hardly doing you any favors by assigning you to that dump). 
And then you managed to talk Riddle into relaxing.
And then you managed to teach Leona that he was more than his status as the second born son. 
And then you managed to outsmart him.
Him!
And if that wasn’t bad enough, all of his contracts had been turned into dust, he could no longer operate on his old modus operandi, and—and—and—
You were interesting. You tamed the many Overblots that came after him. 
You were smart. And witty. And clever. And—
You were everything Azul was not. 
Without even trying, you managed to ensnare the love and acclaim of most of the population of Night Raven College. That usually wasn’t such a terribly hard endeavor: all you needed was an insane amount of precision over your magic, infinite potentiality of both magic and imagination, or a reputation that expanded outside of the borders of the college. However, you had none of those requisites. You were merely a magicless human who was an unknown from a world of unknowns. 
Furthermore, the connections you made rivaled that of Azul’s own contacts. 
It rankled Azul, but then he realized something.
He could use this. 
If he could convince you to be friends, it would make his network of connections more consolidated. Plus, even if he could no longer make anemones out of his contractees, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t use your charm to manipulate potential employees into his service.
However, as much as Azul prided himself on creating well thought out plans or preparing for the worst, it was his creativity and adaptability that got him this far in life. There was a reason why the Leech twins still stuck with him after all these years. 
So, when he realized that he had… ‘feelings’ for you, he decided to follow the current. Sure, emotions were not part of his arrangement with you, but what was the harm? It would make his interactions all the more believable and who knows… it could turn the tide in how you saw him.
For a time, Azul was content in slowly wooing you. Merfolk courting was slightly different from human traditions, but the principles were the same. Make your lover feel wanted and cared for. Put effort in one’s appearance. Appear helpful and trustworthy. Impart bits and pieces of one’s personality in an effort to appear relatable and desirable to one’s partner. 
What Azul really liked, after realizing that the Headmage did little to provide for you, was to see you dressed in clothing that he chose for you. 
At first, it was out of practicality. What kind of lover would he be if he allowed the object of his affections go out in public with old clothing from previous Ramshackle Dorm residents and whatever they could scrounge up from friends and merciful teachers? The first time he buys you something, it’s a uniform that fits your proportions perfectly. A part of you is grateful that he got you something so practical and it makes you feel like you actually belong to the school, but another part of you was hesitant to accept it. Was his angle truly to make sure that you were dressed well? 
Azul laughed at your hesitance, but he did relent and say that it was both out of the goodness of his heart and the fact that it would benefit both of your images as students of Night Raven College. Eventually, you accepted it, but that was merely the beginning. 
Soon, your lover began steadily replacing the rest of your closet with more and more expensive and tasteful items. Gone were the days where you would have asked Ace and Deuce or other friends for clothing that wasn’t threadbare. It was considered a win in your book that you didn’t have to continue dividing your budget between Grim’s terrible tuna habits and your own needs. While you were wary at first concerning Azul’s intentions and his too blatant display of wealth, you conceded and only offered words of thanks and shy touches to express your gratitude. 
At first, Azul was gratified to know that you were reciprocating by wearing the clothing that he bought you. The hugs and hand holding was a little too much for his sensibilities, but something akin to pride filled his chest whenever he saw the rest of the school glancing at the two of you in envy. That’s right, he thought. He was the only one worthy enough to be dating the Prefect! And they were responding quite well to his courtship.
Everything was going according to plan. 
However—
He began to realize something about himself. 
You were such a social creature; you liked going out with your friends and getting into all sorts of trouble. It was no problem to give you aid from time to time, but a slow realization came upon him in slow, but steady increments when he watched you in the aftermath of such varied incidents. It wasn’t abnormal to find you comforting the victims of Overblots or befriending new people, but you looked so lively! Since when were you so receptive to engaging in such casual skinship with men who weren’t him? 
Pushing away such thoughts was easy at first. 
So what if Ace liked to wrap his arm around your shoulders?
Who was he to judge when he saw that you liked taking naps with Leona?
Or that you thought dancing with Kalim was fun?
You were only doing what came naturally and that was the point! You were his when it came to networking and in advertising his restraurant, you actually had to form those connections. If he stopped you, the future where he would be the greatest mage would never occur. And yet…
That childish feeling of envy permeated his very being whenever he saw you outside of his grasp.
What were pearls, luxurious fabrics, and fame compared to your sweet touch and adoring gaze? Even when you were swimming in his gifts, the rest of the students of the school (and even outside of it if he was paying attention to those Royal Sword nitwits) continued to touch you. To tamper with what was his.
You were his.
Couldn’t anyone else see that?
You wore his pearls. You wore his clothes. You were at his side in public holding onto his arm. 
Out of anyone else, why were you also as blind as the rest of them?
It took some time—but the best plans had to be planned in advance—but Azul finally regressed to what his old self had always done when he was faced with mounting envy and the need to claim what he assumed should have been his from the start.
He drafted a contract.
And again.
And again.
Time and time again he scanned through the clauses and subsections for any noticeable loopholes, decorated the wording with calligraphy to confuse the eyes and legalese to stun you into compliance. It didn’t matter what the intentions he conveyed to you were, the end result would be the same. 
To anyone else, it would seem like a lifetime of servitude.
To him, and one day you might understand and agree, it was a marriage contract. 
Don’t worry. One day you’ll celebrate your eternal love with a wedding ceremony, but for now the both of you will be satisfied with this binding contract.
So why were you crying when he told you after you signed the dotted line that you were his forever? Didn’t you agree to be his lover the second you accepted his courtship? If you were truly bothered by the idea of marriage, then why were you wearing the clothing that he picked out for you? You were always willingly at his side before, you just happened to be bound to him outside of a verbal arrangement. Now, he had proof that you were his.
And now, everyone else would know about it.
Did you think that he was going to stop at just a marriage contract? My dear, you need to brush up on your reading comprehension skills. No, there was stipulation after stipulation as his eternal partner. 
You could no longer be away from him for more than a few minutes.
If you had to leave for any reason that he deemed suitable, the Leech twins had to accompany you. 
Ramshackle Dorm was no longer your home, you would now sleep in his bed and stay in Octavinelle until the both of you graduated.
But most of all, you still had to maintain appearances in public. No matter how much Azul wants to deny it, he’s an octopus and octopi are notoriously good at multitasking. While he’s showing you off, you’re reeling in as many new contractees as possible. And if you ever dare think about alerting anyone about your situation, well…
Jade and Floyd have their uses, you know. 
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.
.
Tonight was just like any other night. Between schoolwork, school organizational meetings, and his duties to the Mostro Lounge, Azul found himself slightly overworked. However, seeing you seated in front of a vanity had his heart thumping faster and his worries dissipating into thin air. You were mostly undressed, only a few undergarments covering your modesty as you fiddled with a few choice pieces of jewelry. You had yet to change in your evening ensemble because unlike the rest of the members of Octavinelle, Azul preferred that you wear as many different outfits as possible. 
Only the best for you.
“Good afternoon, dear, I have a meeting with some third year students this evening. Care to join me?”
Azul pretended not to notice that one of your hands that was handling a silver chain necklace had turned into a fist, your knuckles straining with tension. 
“Of course, Azul,” you murmured. A practiced line that had been dictated to you after several sessions with the Leech twins. “What shall I wear tonight?”
You heard Azul hum as he stepped towards the closet, a pleasant skip to his step as he did so. You kept your head bowed low and hoped that your captor would find something appropriate for tonight and leave you to your devices until you had to come out and play the part of Azul’s arm candy. It was rare, but sometimes Azul didn’t cling to you.
Tonight was not the case. 
After hearing Azul rifling through the various clothing and garments that he set aside for you, the hanger noisily clinking against each other, you heard his dress shoes smartly clacking against the floor as he strode back to you. Unfortunately for him, you refused to look up from your lap. That was fine by him, he liked moving you to do as he wished.
He placed the clothing on the back of your chair, careful not to cause excess wrinkling in the fabric. His gloved hands traced circles into your back before he began caressing your arms and enclosing your hands with his. It took a moment, but he gently coaxed you to relax your fist so that he may withdraw the necklace. 
“A good choice.” He pressed a chaste kiss on the smooth slope of your shoulder. “Be a dear and face forward.”
If this were a lighthearted situation, you might have laughed. There was no reason to have you face the mirror. He could have just as easily clasped the jewelry around your neck without any trouble. Still, you did as he bade.
As the silver chain settled into the hollow of your throat, you accidentally caught Azul’s eyes piercing your own. You tried to look away, but a warning touch to your chin had you sitting, rigid and straight forward.
Gazing at you with adoration, Azul continued to pepper your exposed skin with kisses. Most of them were light, almost forgettable. Those were the types of kisses that you would rather receive from Azul nowadays; you could almost pretend that things hadn’t changed in your relationship. That Azul hadn’t become so obsessed with power and your ability to be kind to anyone. However, his other kisses were open-mouthed, sucking, harsh. It was like he had been fasting for days, his favorite food forever in reach, but he didn’t want to satiate his hunger just yet. No, he allowed his hunger to fester and grow until he was breathing heavily behind you, his mouth laving at your skin, his arms and hands grasping and fondling as much of your skin as he could get away with.
Once upon a time, you would have leaned back to accept his touch and reciprocated his love with your own. Now, all you could do was unfocus your eyes as you gazed at the mirror, your hands shaking and breathing shallow. If you breathed in too deep, you thought, you might collapse and moan out his name.
Deeper and needier, his fingers clenched at your skin; red crescents dancing on your skin as imprints of his fingers haunted your body. Above, he nipped at your neck, your ears, any part of your body he could reach, he wanted to mark as his own. 
Soon, however, one of hands were circling down your stomach and down and down and down and—
You squeezed your thighs close together, but a growl behind your ear had you forcibly relaxing in the hold that he kept you in. Satisfied now, his fingers caressed the part of you that you didn’t want him corrupting. His touch was soft, but insistent. He stroked up and down while his other hand alternated between squeezing your thigh or rubbing at the fat of your belly.
Just when you knew you were at the brink of embracing the heat pooling into your stomach, Azul withdrew. You bit back a whine, but your captor must have caught wind of your reluctance because he smiled into your neck and drew you up for a chaste kiss on your lips.
“Like I said, I have a client meeting soon, but—” Another kiss, this time at the hollow of your throat where the chain had settled. “—at least we both have something to look forward to.” 
His bright blue eyes glittered with mischief, but hunger and fervor swept in its depths.
“Now, before you get dressed—” He leaned around you to root around the vanity until he found what he was looking for. A makeup kit. “—how about some makeup?”
You could only nod in submission. 
Clothes maketh man, but what was Azul but a monster playing in a human disguise?
.
.
.
DISCLAIMER: I do not condone yandere behavior outside of fictional settings. Please don’t mistake the actions of fictional characters displayed in works of fiction to be considered harmless in real life.
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TWISTED WONDERLAND MASTERLIST
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merakiui · 2 months
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タコの花嫁。
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yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, arranged marriage, oviposition, breeding, royalty au note - in an effort to bring peace to two warring sides, you are engaged to the sea queen’s son.
If anyone is to blame for the abysmal diplomacy between the Land and the Sea, it would be your ancestors. Pompous and foolhardy, they thought they could rule the grand seas stretching out from the harbor, beyond weather-worn docks with their rotted, seaweed-strewn planks and briny fetor. The ocean was vast, unexplored territory—a dangerous, deceptive beauty harboring life far beneath unruly waves.
And your ancestors intended to claim it.
Sailors would recount tales of fishfolk—uncanny creatures who looked more marine than the two-legged mammals of the land. They’d raise mugs, each overflowing with ale, in drunken merriment, terrifying themselves with the mysteries of the deep, dark sea.
“It ought to give ya a proper scare straight to Davy Jones himself!” they’d say, voices lowered conspiratorially. “Soon as yer candle goes out and all ya’ve got’s the moon to guide ya… You’ll hear ’em slip through the water if yer listenin’ well enough.”
“You ever go and spy one up close?”
“I’d sooner see the Devil himself and let him keelhaul me before facin’ those cursed beasts!”
“The cut of their jib ain’t so pretty. Enough to give men like us a fright and we’ve seen all sorts of somethin’.”
“Monsters, I say! Monsters!”
Festivals were held to keep these beasts at bay—to prevent them from gathering the courage to creep up onto the land. Every year, during the summer solstice, pits were hollowed on the shore and bordered with stones. Flames licked towards the sky, red-orange fingers clawing for purchase amidst the stars above. Townsfolk would sing and dance late into the eve, bellowing songs passed through the generations. Children would skip up and down the beach, torches in hand, and cry out an old chant: “Fish for you and me are meant to stay in the sea! Should you see one on land, may the Heavens strike it down with a gentle, loving hand!”
Their excitement did well to ward off the fishfolk. Sometimes the lone child would spot one in the distance, peeking out from between the rocks before diving back under in a splash.
On land, humans were safe. On land, the fishfolk couldn’t catch them.
It was different in the sea.
Ships were destroyed in terrible tempests. The waves tossed them around as if they were nothing. Many sailors would find their demise at the bottom of the ocean, torn to shreds with shattered skeletons. Viscerally brutalized, they died with secrets on their tongues—secrets of the strange fishfolk who’d drag them down, down, down to a watery grave.
On one cold February afternoon, the octopus prince was brought into the world. In shadowed fathoms, a grand celebration was held. After so much time—misfortune after misfortune—one fry survived out of the entire clutch. He was round and soft and small, colored blue from exertion and fighting through the tug of the current to reach home. The Sea Queen met him halfway and embraced him, ecstatic tears in her eyes, for a mother’s love is stronger than any political power.
“My little Azul,” she said, stroking a hand along his cheek, “how precious you are.”
No ships were sunk; no lives were lost. It was a peaceful day for both the Land and the Sea. And it would continue to be so in the future. Every year on that same February, it was made a day of peace to honor the little prince.
A day of life, not death.
It was on that same February eleven years later when you were tossed into the frigid depths like a hatchling cast out of its nest. Similarly, your birth had been a wondrous occasion. Your parents brought five boys into the world, each just as adored as the last, but they had been hoping for a daughter. It was a miracle when their fervent wishes were finally granted. You were spoiled as all daughters often are, pampered and doted on by your family and the palace staff.
Your brothers, though protective and caring, were a troublesome and rowdy bunch. Kyffin was the eldest. Two years younger was Emyr, and another two years behind him was Owin. A year younger than him were twins Morcan and Martyn. They picked on you as all immature boys often do when caught up in sibling rivalries, aiming to be the only one their parents see. To prove themselves as the best, the strongest, the wisest.
So it was with a half-cruel heart that Emyr tossed you into the waves from where he stood in the rowboat.
“Only way to learn is with exposure!” he called down to you, watching as you struggled against the push and pull of the sea. 
“C-Can’t!” you shouted back, choking on salt and flailing about. “E-Emyr, I can’t—can’t swim!”
“Don’t be silly,” Owin added with a sweet smile. “It’s how we learned. That old sod threw us right in. You’re lucky it’s us and not him. He was awfully mean with it, wasn’t he?”
“Terribly so.” Emyr watched your struggling a moment longer and clicked his tongue. He held the oar out just before you could slip under, and you clung to it with shaky hands. “Come on—let’s get you up here. You’re not gonna get it today.”
“Fin got it on his first try.”
“Fin gets everything on his first bloody try.”
Relieved, your heart pounding like a drum, you peered up at your brothers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it…”
“Nothing to apologize for. You’ll get it one day.”
“We’ll keep trying until then. And once you do, we’ll throw you a big party.”
“Really? Will you really do that?” Your expression brightened, but your brothers’ faces darkened. They saw the shadow before you did. Saw the webbed hands reaching out, the serrated teeth glinting in a sinister smile.
And then—
Owin leaned over, his arm outstretched. So fluid was his motion that it took you by surprise. “(Name), grab on! Hurry! Before—”
The rest of his warning was muffled by the water. You hardly had any time to brace yourself when you were yanked under, your nails raking across the wood of the oar as you went with the force of the pull. Salt stung your eyes when you cracked them open, peering frantically at blurry surroundings. Teal-green specks slid silently through the shadows, mismatched eyes flicking over your form. And then there was a high, raucous sort of chittering. Like a dolphin’s cry, loud and piercing. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your palms against your ears.
It only lasted a few mere seconds, but it felt like an eternity trapped in the coils of a creature you couldn’t comprehend. One moment you were holding your breath and the next arms were hooked around your torso, and you were pulled up and into the belly of the rowboat. Your hands flew to your throat, and you coughed up seawater while Owin patted you.
“It’s fine. It’s…okay,” Emyr muttered, his voice shot through with fear. It was the most shaken he’d ever sounded.
Blood fogged in the water, staining the tip of his harpoon. He gazed down at his hand. A deep, jagged gash ran angrily from palm to wrist. He hissed and closed his fingers in a tight fist.
“We gotta get back,” Owin was saying, still rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I’ll row. You rest.”
“Not good,” Emyr said instead, shaking his head in dismay as he watched your attackers retreat.
“We’re still in our waters, right? We didn’t go past the boundary, did we?”
“Let’s hope not.”
“We didn’t, right?”
“Let’s hope—” Emyr paused, collecting his words. “Let’s hope those monsters were in the wrong.”
“Father’s gonna kill us.”
“If not us, the monsters.”
Both brothers looked towards you. Your tunic was torn, stained through with saltwater and blood. You shivered all the way to shore.
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Following that mishap, an official meeting was called between the Land and the Sea. The King—your father��met the Sea Queen at the border. He stood proud on his ship, peering down at her with fire in his old eyes.
“Your Majesty.”
The Sea Queen was just as formidable as those who came before her. Her tentacles unfurled as one, and if you looked at them long enough they almost seemed to take on the shape of an obsidian-colored crinoline.
“I believe my mother and your father made the terms quite clear all those years ago,” she said, a wave lifting her to meet the King at the deck of his ship. “So then, with that in mind, there should be no reason for us to meet under these circumstances.”
Emyr and Owin stood just behind their father. You peered through their legs at the Sea Queen, silently amazed. You’d never seen anyone quite like her before. At least, not a real person. You’d seen her in storybooks, depicted as a fearsome beast with devilish features, and though there was something intimidating about her gaze and build she appeared understanding enough. Her grey skin was sleek in the morning sun, her long, silvery strands tied up and pinned with an ornate hair ornament. She looked beautiful in a magical, enigmatic way.
“I couldn’t agree more,” came the clipped response of your father. “Alas, misfortune has brought us here.” He stepped aside to allow her to behold Emyr’s bandaged hand. “Harm has befallen my son and daughter. I suppose you might have an inkling as to why they find themselves in their current state?”
She frowned, but you couldn’t tell if it was out of sympathy or some other emotion. “Perhaps one of them can give reason to the wound now marring one of my subject’s sons.”
Your father glanced overboard at the snake-like merman cradled in the arms of another merman. They looked near-identical, their features unmistakable. He glanced back at Emyr, his gaze hard. “Go on then. Explain yourself.”
Emyr stepped forward. “With wholehearted respect, Your Majesty, it was out of self-defense. Your kind—they attacked us first.”
“You were in our waters!” one of the mers exclaimed, pointing a clawed finger towards Emyr. “It’s all your fault Jade got hurt!”
Owin hurried ahead, his hands gripping the taffrail. “He’s playing it up! It was a graze!”
“He could’ve died! You almost killed him!”
“That is enough,” the Sea Queen said, jutting an arm out to silence both sides. “I understand everyone is hurt here. Our feud lies in misunderstanding.” She gazed at you next. “Little one, we have yet to hear your story. Do share.”
You glanced at the guards, at Owin and Emyr, and then at father. He nodded encouragingly. “U-Um!” Shyly, you approached the Sea Queen. “My brothers were teaching me how to swim. I don’t know anything about whose water is whose. I just wanted to learn how to swim.” You met the fierce scowl of the mer holding his twin brother and quickly looked elsewhere. “He grabbed me before my brothers could pull me up.”
“Because you were trespassing. Anyone who tresspasses ought to—”
“Floyd.”
At the not-so-subtle warning in his father’s voice, he shut his mouth and snarled. His brother—Jade—was handed off to their father, who assessed his state with a frown.
“He will live, but it will take time for him to recover. My son is right. Your son could have killed him.”
“Just as your sons could have killed my sister!” Owin shouted, glaring.
Floyd stuck his tongue out, remorseless.
“It is impossible to know which side is in the wrong,” your father began, turning towards the Sea Queen. “Seeing as both have been injured, I am willing to apologize on behalf of my sons.”
“What?!” Owin’s head turned towards his father. “You’re bloody mad! Have you not seen—”
“Father,” Emyr interjected evenly. “We have nothing to apologize for. We were within our waters. We had no ill will towards the others. It was completely innocent.”
The Sea Queen hummed her contemplation. “The boundary was drawn for a reason, decided upon by those who came before us, and yet it does more harm than good. It is not for safety’s sake. It is to keep us divided—to ensure that neither side will ever know peace.”
“And you’re implying that we get rid of it?”
She nodded, quite serious. Everyone looked on in equal parts shock and disbelief. “Why do we continue to fight? It does nothing but open old wounds, rendering them incurable. Innocent lives are lost in petty squabbling. And for what?”
To that, no one could offer a smart reply.
“Therefore I propose peace. A union to welcome a new era—one in which we embrace one another as allies without animosity.”
“A union?” Your father raised a brow, suspicious but willing to listen. “I suppose it would be beneficial. My people would be free to travel the seas at their leisure.” “And mine would no longer have to live in fear of being thoughtlessly slaughtered and taken as trophies.”
“Unbelievable,” Orwin muttered.
Emyr elbowed him. “Knock it off.”
“We’ll collaborate on a contract. One that dissolves the invisible boundary that has been the cause for so much suffering. In order to attain true peace, I shall offer you my only son.” She glanced at you and then back at your father. “Your daughter shall marry him when they are of age.”
“What?! No way! Ew! Gross!” Your voice came out shrill and you shook your head in protest. “I don’t wanna marry an octopus! No, I won’t do it!”
Your father stood in front of you. “She’s my only daughter. If something were to happen—”
“Which is precisely why I bring up this engagement. Should they be betrothed, we as their parents will promise to uphold peace to give them bright futures and they will act as the first example of a human-mer alliance. Unions between humans and merfolk are unheard of, but is this not the best way to foster harmony between the Land and Sea?”
“I won’t do it! No! Don’t make me marry a gross—” Emyr gathered you in his arms, holding his uninjured hand over your mouth.
“Let the grown-ups talk.”
Owin frowned. “I still don’t agree with this…”
Your father mulled it over, his eyes glazed in thought. “Very well. We will create a contract—an official peace treaty.”
Both leaders shook hands and planned to convene at the end of the week to discuss further.
You watched the mers depart, each one slipping under the sea. Floyd was the last to go, staring at you with a mean sort of vitriol. And then he, too, dove under.
“He didn’t mean it, right?” you whispered to Emyr after your father gave the order to turn the ship around and head for land. “I won’t have to marry an octopus, right?”
Emyr could only offer a commiserate frown.
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“She’s a brat,” Floyd spits. “Stupid, evil Two Legs.”
Jade chuckles and runs his fingers over the scar. “I consider it an honor.”
“Yeah, well, I think it’s messed up. She’s the reason you can’t ever swim naturally again. While she’s up there in her pretty, little tower, safe and sound, you’re still hurting.”
“It’s not as much of a hindrance as you may think. I’m not weak, mind you.”
Floyd grumbles. “Still. She’s mean.”
Azul gazes up at the palace, sighing dreamily. “She’ll be my wife someday. That’s what humans call it, yes? Husband and wife… What wonderful words.”
It’s been one year since the peace treaty. Since then, humans and merfolk have made an effort to get along. This is the second time Azul will be meeting with you. He’s nervous. The first time you went out to sea to greet him, and he’d gotten so anxious that he inked right then and there. His mother entertained you from where you sat in the boat with your personal guard. It was a mortifying experience—one that had taken him months to recover from.
Now he’s going to try to meet you in the shallows. Try is the key word here. He’s scared, all three hearts beating as one. Is it too late to reschedule?
“I can’t believe you’re actually okay with this. You that lonely?”
Azul turns to scowl at both twins, but it’s mostly directed at Floyd. “I never asked you to tag along. Leave me alone.”
Jade smiles. “And let the Queen’s little prince swim to his death?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Sure you can. But what about when Two Legs gets ya? What then?”
“She wouldn’t do that.”
Floyd rolls his eyes. “You saw what her brothers did to Jade.”
“Because you tried to kill her.”
“Because she was in our territory!”
Azul huffs and pushes him away with a tentacle. “Regardless, we’re supposed to be on good terms now. You’ll break the contract if you try anything dangerous.”
“He’s right, Floyd.”
“Ugh. Whatever.” Floyd turns away, stubborn. “This is lame. I’m not stickin’ around.”
Jade lingers long enough to observe the way Azul lights up when he spots you on the stone steps. And then he disappears beneath the water.
Barefoot, holding your dress up and out of the way, you pad across the beach.
“Why are you here? I’m busy. My brothers are taking me into town.”
The smile that had been fighting to break out on his face frosts over. “Oh. I… Um…” Azul fumbles with the conch shell he’d collected on the way here. A gift for you. He made sure to study human speech patterns in the months leading up to this meeting. He’s fully prepared! And yet you look so displeased. “F-For you! I found it…”
You stare at the shell clutched in a dark tentacle. Tentatively, you reach for it. “Why?”
“Ah. W-Well, my mother says gifts are an important part of any bond. In the sea, we give gifts to the ones we care about. To friends and family and o-other halves…”
You turn the shell over in your hands. “We’re not friends.”
“Not yet,” he tries, but you shake your head.
“You ran away from me the last time we met. That’s not very friendly.”
His face flushes blue and he opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. It wasn’t on purpose.
You’re already turning on your heel. “I don’t have time for this.” You toss the shell over your shoulder. Azul watches it land in the sand, just out of his grasp.
“W-Wait! I… I want to talk to you. Please don’t go. You’re going to be my other half one day, so I’d like to—”
But you’re already dashing across the beach to get to the stairs.
Azul deflates against the rock. Tears overflow in floods. Is it because of him? Is he to blame? Why don’t you want to be his friend? Is it because of the peace treaty? Why?
Why? Why? Why?
Azul doesn’t want to think negatively of you. Humans are sensitive creatures. He reads up on them in the palace library, poring over literature and textbooks in an effort to better understand you. But as the months pass and you seem to simply tolerate him for the sake of the alliance, he begins to suspect something.
It’s made apparent the next time he sees you, where you walk right past the beach to catch up with your brothers. He hides behind the rocks, two blue eyes following your figure until you’re out of sight.
Floyd was right. You are a brat.
And yet he can’t hate you.
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On the eve of your eighteenth birthday, Azul meets you in the shallows.
Nowadays you send letters, preferring strained long distance over the personal intimacy of face-to-face relations. These exchanges are purely diplomatic. But now that he’s asked to meet with you, a rare occurrence, you’ve deigned to greet him in person. It’s the least you can do after he’s gone through the trouble to travel here. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him that he’s almost unrecognizable. You remember the round, baby-faced octo-mer from your childhood. The one who lounges against the rocks is leaner now—his features defined, jawline as sharp as his eyes. They cut through the gloom to find you.
“You wished to see me?” You’re in your nightwear, a silky gown with an even softer robe. A cool breeze blows across the beach, and you wrap your arms around yourself for extra warmth. “Azul?”
He hesitates, his gaze trailing up your legs. You’ve also changed a lot in the time you’ve been apart. You’ve grown taller, filling out in places he didn’t know humans could fill. What he’d give to hold you… His mother says he needs to be patient. Fickle thing that you are, you’re the reason he’s spent six years trying to appease you through letters—to win you over and be anything more than that “annoying octopus” you’re doomed to marry. Perhaps it would have been easier to act just as you do if it weren’t for the fact that he’d been elated at the premise of having someone to love. When his mother broached the idea in the days following her meeting with the Land King, he’d stared at her with wide, excited eyes.
“There’s a human girl who wants to be my friend?” he asked, to which his mother smiled and nodded.
More than a friend, actually, but then all he was focused on was finally getting to experience the one thing he’d never known or had: friendship.
Sighing, he foregoes formality and holds out a necklace. It dangles from the tip of his tentacle. Strung on a dainty, silver strand, pearls wink back at you under the moonlight. Azul averts his eyes, his cheeks a pleasant periwinkle.
“Happy birthday…”
“Oh.” You move in closer, taking the necklace from him. His tentacle pursues you, twining delicately around your wrist. “Um… What is it? Do you need—whoa!”
Azul tugs you closer. The sea laps at your ankles. Beneath a tapestry of stars, you meet his azure stare. His features are set with a determination you’ve never seen before.
“I want to start over.”
“Start over?”
“I’d like to be on friendly terms with you. We’re so cold. Distant…” Azul frowns, seeming unsure of what to say or do next. The tentacle laced around your wrist like a bracelet tightens its hold. “We’re to be wed one day. I want to make this work.”
You blink at him. He thinks he may have gotten through to you, having finally broken through layers of stone and ice, but then your nose scrunches and odium shimmers in your gaze.
“That’s impossible. I’m a human. How am I supposed to live with an octopus?” You shake him off with a huff. “I’m not sure what our parents think this will accomplish. I don’t want to be a pawn to be moved around for the sake of peace. I’m my own person.”
Azul’s expression sours. His lip curls up into a sneer. “Well, I don’t find it very enjoyable either. You’re not the only victim in this scenario.”
You exhale an exhausted breath. “Azul, I appreciate the gift, but it doesn’t mean anything if you’re only giving it to me to curry favor.”
I wasn’t, he thinks, but he doesn’t say that. Admitting it would be a weakness. Admitting it would mean coming to terms with an unrequited opinion.
“At least one of us is making a conscious effort.”
“At least one of us isn’t trying so hard. It’s pathetic.”
“You’re not obligated to accept my goodwill.” He smiles, smug. “Yet you do every time. I’d wager you enjoy my materialistic affections.”
“As if.” Despite this, you hold the necklace out of his reach when a tentacle flexes towards it. “It’s mine now.”
“So you are fond of my ‘pathetic’ ways!”
“I’m not!”
You jerk away with a vicious scowl, but your foot catches in the sand and you quickly find yourself tipping backwards. If not for the tentacles that coil around your waist to steady you, you would have fallen on your rear. Your chest heaves with adrenaline. Stunned, you stare at Azul.
“You…caught me,” you breathe, lips parted in awe.
“Did you think I’d let you fall?” He cocks his head at you, grinning playfully. “Why, I’d never! Unless it’s me you’re falling for, in which case I gladly welcome the—”
“You’re such a pest.” Untangling yourself from his grasp, which he allows without scrimmage, you step away from the water’s edge. He watches you secure the pearls around your neck, and his hearts stumble in his chest when you point an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t delude yourself with foolish nonsense. I have no interest in you.”
With an indignant harrumph, you start towards the palace.
“May we meet here tomorrow?” Azul calls out after you, testing his luck with what little chance he has.
“Don’t push it.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“Good. Keep waiting, dummy!” You break into a sprint, hurrying off into the shadows.
Azul smiles at the empty beach. Whether or not you like him, it doesn’t matter. You’re to be his one day. You’ve always been, ever since he was eleven.
He’ll wait, even if you won’t show.
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Ostensibly, twenty-one years wise, you’re getting married today.
Your gown is just as exquisite as your hair and makeup. Pearls cling to your throat and arms—classic wedding attire for merfolk. A thin veil shields the scheme in your stare.
This was an inevitability, but you’re determined to fight it until the end. No matter how quickly time seems to pass, you’ll do everything you can to stall and slow it.
Gripping a sharpened dagger in a resolute fist, you drag it through the long, sprawling train of your gown.
“As if I’d marry an octopus,” you grumble, cutting fine fabric until you’re permitted smoother movement. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you scowl. “I’m no one’s bride.”
By the time the maids arrive to check on you, you’ve already stolen out the window.
The rowboat sways on choppy water. You’ve watched your brothers do this enough times to have the technique engraved in your memory. Your arms strain with the oars, every muscle screaming in protest, but you fight through the pain. The palace looks smaller and smaller with every passing minute. Eventually, you’re so far out that the land is but a mere speck.
It’s going well. You’re escaping towards a better future—a future without the octopus prince.
You glance towards the horizon. Your boat undulates with the waves.
You’ll miss your brothers, your maids, your personal guard…
Water slops over the edge. You yelp, startled. Have the seas always been so rough?
Despite everything, you’ll miss your father.
Just as you think this, your boat rocks to the side. You grab onto the edge to steady yourself, but it’s already too late. It tips over and you go with it, careening into the sea with a noisy splash. Twin shadows cut seamlessly through the murky water. You catch sight of a yellow eye before you propel yourself towards the sky, coughing and heaving once you break the surface. You grab onto the overturned rowboat, your dagger clutched in one hand.
You search the surface for them, eyes flicking to and fro in a frantic panic.
Somewhere… Anywhere… Where are you?
And then you find them, peering at you from the other side of the boat.
“Go on then,” you spit, glaring. “Kill me.”
Floyd bares his teeth at you. “This time I ain’t gonna leave a scar.”
“You know we mustn’t. That’s not why we’re here.” Jade smiles at you, but there’s something in his eyes that unnerves you. “Your Highness, you should know it’s poor manners to leave the groom on his special day.”
Floyd circles you restlessly. “S’not fair we gotta be nice when you’re so mean.”
“I’m not going to marry him.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in that matter.”
“What’d Azul ever do to you?”
You attempt to answer that before realizing the truth. Nothing. He’s done absolutely nothing but be kind and understanding and patient. And I took that, chewed it up, and spat in his face.
“If you used that brain of yours, you wouldn’t have thrown yourself to the sharks. We can’t get to you on land.” “But it’s fair game in the sea,” Floyd finishes, every syllable dripping with pride. “Stupid Two Legs.”
“I’m inclined to agree. You’re not the brightest human. A pity.”
“My brother should’ve gutted you when he had the chance. Maybe then—”
You see the whites of Floyd’s eyes when he strikes, launching himself at you with a clawed hand, sharp, pointed teeth aiming for your jugular.
This is it. You’re dead.
…or not.
The searing pain never comes, nor does the impending laceration. You cling to the boat and watch dark tentacles rise from the depths to close around Floyd, ensnaring him in a firm hold. He thrashes, snapping his jaws like a deranged beast.
“Let go of me, Azul! Lemme at her! She’s a bitch! I’ll kill her!”
“There will be none of that.” Azul tuts. “I don’t intend to marry a corpse.”
Jade swims over to you. “My feelings aren’t hurt in the slightest, Your Highness. If it weren’t for your status and connection to Azul, I’d have disemboweled you ages ago. Quite a relief for you, yes?”
You swallow your horror, allowing him to detach you from the boat so that Azul can turn it over. A tentacle curls around your waist, lifts you from the water, and places you back in the boat. You stare at your hands. They’re trembling. You can hardly hold the dagger properly.
It takes some convincing and a lukewarm apology from you, but Floyd promises to be good. He doesn’t do anything as you’re pulled back to shore, but he does stare at you for the duration of the trip, his eyes tracking your every movement. You press yourself into the belly of the boat, defeated and riddled with anxiety.
Your father isn’t pleased. When you see his enraged expression, the debate dies on your tongue. “You are to marry the prince,” he seethes, pulling you aside, “or else you jeopardize the peace of our kingdom.”
You’re washed and fitted in a new dress. Guards are stationed at all possible routes to prevent another escape.
When you walk down the beach to meet Azul in the shallows, your veil shields the sadness in your stare.
The ceremony carries on without incident. Floyd watches from the water, lurking like Death. You speak rehearsed vows in robotic monotone, mindlessly floating through the rigmarole like it’s second nature. Azul smiles at you through it all, sweetly smitten.
It’s a nightmare lived in real time.
Humans and mers alike congratulate you, cheering for this momentous occasion. Your tongue is numb by the end of it all. You’ve expressed faux gratitude so many times that it hurts to even force the words. And now, as night descends and the party kicks into full swing, you’re left reflecting on the day.
Freedom feels so far away. You’ll never know it again, will you?
Azul guides you away from the crowd. Firelight grows dim with the distance. Eventually, you find yourself taking refuge in a tiny inlet cut into the beach. A rocky outcrop hides you from the moon’s spotlight.
“I’m not upset,” Azul murmurs, curling a tentacle up your leg. “But Floyd is.”
“His brother’s the one who hurt me all those years ago.”
“That was before the union.”
“I’m not letting it go.”
“Perhaps not now, but you will. One day.”
You don’t believe him.
“Our people are at peace. Aren’t you pleased, my love?”
You shove him away, gathering heaps of your dress to walk in calf-deep water. “I’m not your love.”
“Legally, you are.”
“That means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing.”
Azul sighs. “Even now, after everything, you’re still trying to flee.”
“For good reason. I don’t want to be tied down.”
Azul inches closer. Another tentacle wraps slyly around your ankle.
“You’re so beautiful. I feel like the luckiest mer in the sea. To be able to call you my own… My beautiful bride.” He pulls you closer. You resist weakly. “Now that we’re alone I can finally tell you the very thing I’ve thought of ceaselessly for years.”
A tentacle slides up your leg, straying closer to your inner thigh. You flinch away.
“Azul, wait. I don’t want—”
“I love you.”
You squirm in his hold, attempting to thwart the tentacles that grab at your every limb. You trip over yourself in the process. This time Azul doesn’t catch you. Water laps at your dress, soaking through at once. He’s radiant beneath the moon. Dreading his touch, you scoot as far from him as you can get in the water, hoping to reach land. Azul seizes your wrist and pulls you into his arms. You fight him with more force.
“No… No, let go of me! Release me!”
“Why should I? You’re mine now. Is it not customary for a married couple to consummate their new bond? We do something similar in the sea.” A tentacle brushes your veil back so that he can look upon your pretty face. “I’d take you to a quiet space in the seagrass, lay you down in the sand, and then—”
“I don’t want that! No!” You lash out, swinging blindly. A tentacle shoots out to stop your arm before it can smack him. “Azul, please—”
“I was patient. I waited and waited in hopes that you might warm up to me. I cherished you in silence. I learned your language. Your customs. Your habits. I wrote to you. Traveled to meet you. And yet you look at me as if I’m a monster…”
It’s not the devastated look in his eyes or the edge in his voice that scares you. It’s the startling gentleness with which he handles you. Tentacles loop around your body, exploring beneath your gown. You wriggle in discomfort, yelping when suckers brush against the frilly garter secured around your thigh. Azul hums and holds you up in his tentacles, using two to spread your legs so that he may slide it from your leg.
“I wasn’t forceful. I courted you kindly. You accepted all of my gifts. You wore them proudly and I thought—I knew you would love me, too. You were mine from the moment our parents signed that agreement. And if you leave me, you’ll break a political promise and then our kingdoms will go to war and I’ll be sure to collect the heads of your family first. Each one of them, and you will watch as I bring ruin to the kingdom you love so fondly.”
“N-No… Please stop. Please.”
“I’ve waited ten years for you.” A tentacle hooks around your panties. You thrash again, shaking your head at him. He remains unconvinced, watching with gleeful eyes as your nudity is revealed to him. “And aren’t you an angel? Oh, you’re so pretty…”
Like your hopes, your panties are cast aside.
The tip of a tentacle prods curiously at your pussy. Your breath hitches.
“W-Wait! You… You can’t.” His eyes find yours, and you swallow the rising sob. “T-That can’t go inside… It won’t fit. It won’t—”
Azul smiles. “Of course it will. The human body is capable of marvelous feats.”
Even though it’s pointless, you struggle. “I can’t! Please… Azul, I’m scared. Please don’t do this…”
A lone tentacle slides into your hand. Thoughtless, you hold tight.
“My love, there’s no need to cry. I’m not going to hurt you.” He brings you closer, kissing your tears away. “I’m here for you. I’ve always been here, even when you didn’t seem to need me.”
You hiccup, your chest heaving. It’s not lonely for long, for he pulls your dress down your shoulders. Your breasts spill free and are quickly cradled in cold hands. Azul watches your expression with an intense focus while he rolls your nipples between his fingers. You grit your teeth, refusing to respond. But then the tentacle between your legs finds your clit and a sucker affixes to it, suctioning slowly. You gasp and throw your head back, bolts of pleasure racing up your spine. It happens in a white-hot flash. You slacken in his grasp.
Azul laughs, astonished. “Did you cum? Already?”
“Nooo,” you whine, closing your hand around the tentacle once more. Another one strokes your cheek. “You’ve had your fun. Now let go of me…”
“What a silly demand.”
He tugs on your nipples. You groan, lashes fluttering. “Ooh… Stop. No, stop it… Don’t touch there. Not—haa… Not there!”
“You’re so sensitive.” He drags the underside of a tentacle along your cunt and shivers. “And so wet… Is this your season? Do humans experience such a thing?”
You’ve no idea what he’s referring to, but before you can dwell on it he leans down to take your perky bud in his mouth. Your free hand grabs at his hair, pinning him to your chest. His tongue laves across it, warm and wet. You shouldn’t enjoy it so much, and yet you can’t stop yourself from crying out.
He hums against your skin, beaming like a devil. You can’t hate him. He’s your husband. He’s yours. You shouldn’t hate him.
You’re falling apart in his tentacles, grinding down to chase the bliss provided by the underside of the appendage clinging to your pussy. The sinful squelch of skin on skin fills the quiet inlet. The scent of sex and salt intermingles. It’s wrong and it’s right. It’s instinct, carnal and corrupt. Azul groans against your breast, your teat between his teeth.
“Az—ooh!” You tug on his hair, insatiable. Your brain is fogging over with lust. You don’t want to lose yourself in this madness. You can’t. “N-No more… No more.” 
But he’s not listening. He pinches your other nipple between his fingers, and that’s all it takes for you to unravel.
In the aftermath, the tapered tip of a thicker tentacle squirms between your thighs. Mindlessly, you spread your legs and lift your hips for him. It presses in shallowly, a jarring experience.
“Not inside—don’t! You can’t!”
Azul pulls away from you, his expression scrunched in woozy ecstasy. “Why not?” he mumbles, smiling stupidly. “You’re my bride. It’s only fair…”
Before you can bicker, he kisses you. His tongue pursues yours in a sloppy tango. You lick into his mouth, desperate and dazed. Lost in a sea of salacity, shipwrecked on an island of forgotten inhibitions.
The tentacle pushes through rings of tight, slick muscle. Tears spring to your eyes. It feels weird and foreign, so unlike your fingers. He holds you close, minding his strength and pace. It fills you slowly, reaching places you’ve never been able to feel. The lust numbs your senses and gives way to something animalistic—a base desire you’ve suppressed. Azul rocks the appendage deeper until it’s pushed up against the entrance to your womb, squeezed snugly in your warm walls.
“I-It’s in…” you mumble once he’s broken the kiss, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths. “It’s really…inside me…”
Azul kisses your cheek and pets you with a tentacle. “We were made for each other.”
Surely not, you think, but it feels so when he draws back and thrusts in. Maybe he’s right.
He fucks you gently, savoring every single sound you make. He tells you he loves you, whispers it over and over like it’s prayer. You nod dumbly, grabbing at his hand to hold it. The both of you are gasping in unison, chasing cloud nine. In just a few more deep strokes, his tip bullying its way to your womb, he finally finds his end. A thin substance fills you up in plentiful amounts. Distantly, you think it’s water until he drags your hips further down. Your mouth drops open in a strangled scream as something round and gelatinous passes through. It settles in your womb, and you know right away that it shouldn’t be there.
You panic. “W-Wait… Wha—Zul… Stop… No, I don’t want—”
“It’s all right,” he breathes, his mouth on your shoulder. He soothes you with soft shushes and even softer kisses. “You’re okay. I’m here.”
You dig your nails into the tentacle curled in your palm just as a second orb squeezes through. He groans, his eyes squeezed shut.
“Finally…” He pants, a wobbly smile stretching on his delirious countenance. “Finally, my love, my dear—oh, my beloved bride!”
He cradles you like a mother would a newborn. You lie there as he fills you, your voice hoarse from babbling and bewailing. These things—little orbs of jelly—are stuffed into your womb, and by the time you surpass twenty you lose count and blank out, trembling through yet another orgasm. You’re not sure how many more he has left or how many more you can possibly fit. It feels too good to think about that.
“Bigger. They’ll get bigger. You’ll look so pretty—round and full and soft.”
Dizzy, you glance at the bloated dome that is your belly. Your gown strains over it, an impressively deceptive size that you almost mistake for pregnancy. That’s when it clicks. Eggs. These are eggs.
“I’ll make sure they survive. All of them—as many as I possibly can. I’ll stay by your side. I’ll keep you content. I’ll fill you with love—so much love—an abundance of it, and you’ll never know emptiness again,” he rambles, resting a tentacle over your distended middle.
It’s not just a senseless sweet nothing. It’s a promise.
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it-happened-one-fic · 10 months
Text
Thats How You Know - Leona
Author Notes: This fic is actually for the @briarvalleyarchives "Anthems of Old" event. It was inspired by its namesake song, "That's How You Know" from the Disney film Enchanted. It's surprisingly nerve-wracking to be posting a fic for an event, but I had fun writing thing and had to curb the urge to not just rip of the scene from the film. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy.
Type: Fluff/ romantic/ gender-neutral reader/ sfw
Word Count: 1782
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“You know he likes you, right?” Ruggie had leaned over to look you in the eye better as he voiced his question, but you looked away as soon as his words registered. 
His question drew a sigh from your lips that didn’t quite match the odd smile on your face as you kept your silence. You weren’t quite able to answer his question, even as Ruggie frowned at your silence.
The truth was that, in a lot of ways, you felt like Leona did like you just as much as you liked him. But he never really did anything to show it if he did, which left you with questions. 
How could you really know if he did like, much less love, you?
Despite what others said, you weren’t certain. You knew you liked him. After all, you’d taken to picking up on his interests, worries, and other such little tidbits that made up the individual that was Leona. They’d affected you, becoming interests and worries of your own.
What had started out as curiosity and wanting to get to know him better had swelled from there. You’d fallen in love with Leona. And while you knew that Leona didn’t hate you, the matter of romantic interest was….. Well, it was a whole other can of worms that you weren’t nearly as confident about.
Or at least you weren’t until recently. 
It had started out simply enough, with a small note being left on your desk on top of a stack of books. The note itself was pinned in an elegant but largely unfamiliar hand and mentioned the upcoming practical magic test.
Something you knew you were going to flunk, what with your lack of ability to practice magic.
But after just a little bit of studying, it became clear that maybe you had a better chance of passing than you had thought. 
The books in the mysterious stack handled the subject well, showing intensive instructions for how to draw an appropriate magic circle that would help you pass the test without having to actually use magic.
That wasn’t what really caught your attention, though. What caught your attention was the signature on the reverse side of the note, which you hadn’t found until you’d given it a closer inspection.
 Elegant and small-lettered, the signature was barely noticeable but easily capable of causing a smile to appear on your face.
Leona Kingscholar.
You’d known he’d helped Ruggie get caught up with the rest of the school in terms of tutoring and having uniforms when he’d first come to NRC, but you’d never expected him to help you.
Perhaps he did care a bit more for your concerns and troubles than you’d thought….
You’d thanked the Savannaclaw housewarden after you’d passed the test, but he’d  brushed off your gratitude with an almost trained ease. 
“You help Jack out with his work, so if I give you stuff, I don’t have to tutor him myself,” A lazy smirk had spread across his features. He’d looked over his shoulder at you as he’d walked off, throwing a final comment back at you, “Less work for me that way.”
His words had caused you to frown slightly, but you shrugged them off. He wasn’t wrong after all. You and the other first-years often studied together to help each other with your problem subjects. If you could teach Jack things, then Leona wouldn't have to worry about it. Though you were pretty sure he’d never bothered with that in the past either.
But what followed the next day had you forgetting your previously dismissive thoughts. 
You and Grim both stared down at the bright yellow flowers that greeted you from your doorstep. At odds with the otherwise dreary day, they smiled brightly up at you from the discolored wood of your porch. They were one of your favorite flowers from the ones you’d seen since coming to this world, simply due to how happy they looked.
You frowned at the blooms even as you knelt to collect them. They were tied with a rough cord, an oddly rugged touch to such a sweet sentiment. 
You fingered the cord slightly before taking them inside to plop in a glass of water before heading off to the botanical garden for Potionology class.
Except when you at last reached the botanical garden, you froze. Staring at the familiar yellow flowers that greeted you, yet again, with smiling faces from alongside jaggedly cut stems that had no doubt been where your little bouquet had once resided.
It could have been a coincidence that Leona spent large amounts of time in the botanical garden where these pretty little flowers, that perfectly matched the color of yellow he wore on his dorm uniform, grew. 
It was a color that was slowly becoming one of your favorites as the days wore on and was possibly one of the reasons you did like these flowers so much
 Either way, the oddness of it all was enough to make you wonder and smile to yourself at the possibilities.
You were still smiling as you were chopping the potion ingredients and you almost missed the grin Ace was wearing when he leaned over closer, “So, anything interesting today?”
You frowned, immediately suspicious since you knew good and well that Ace didn’t bring those flowers when he’d just claimed they aggravated his allergies mere seconds ago.
 His question, though, was incredibly fishy considering that getting a bouquet of flowers from an unknown sender was definitely an interesting start to your day.
“I got some flowers this morning…. Some of those yellow ones you said you were allergic to,” You eyed him skeptically, but he merely snorted.
“Ooh, got an admirer, have we, Prefect?” He bounced his eyebrows at you before laughing at your eye roll and continuing on.
“My day had a weird start too. First thing this morning, Deuce informed me that Jack apparently overheard Ruggie telling Leona that you couldn’t read minds.” 
The redhead’s grin was sly now as he shouldered you playfully, “Weird, huh? Would’ve thought everyone knew that. After all, if you could read minds, you wouldn’t have needed those books to help you with the practical magic test, right?”
You blinked in surprise at the redhead, ignoring the teasing tone he used in favor of thinking about this new information.
The rest of class went by in a blur until Ruggie came trotting over, an exasperated expression on his face, “Y/n, hun, help a guy out?”
You sighed almost immediately at his wheedling tone but found yourself turning to face him anyway, “What is it, Ruggie?”
You were fully prepared for some sort of grand tale about how he had too many jobs and needed help running something to a class or that he’d found some sort of new couple deal and wanted to go on a fake date in the name of sales.
But it was none of those things. Instead, you were met with a sandwich being shoved into your hands, “Give this to Leona for me. I haven’t got the time, and he’s miffed with me anyway. You’re a real pal, bye!”
He was skittering away, waving with his signature snicker, before you even had a chance to object. You glanced Ace’s way only to be met with a rapid head shake, “Oh no, he gave that to you. You’re on your own, Prefect.”
The redhead backed away like you were carrying a bomb and quickly abandoned you to your newfound work. You rolled your eyes at both of the men’s dramatics but turned on your heel, striding towards where Leona always napped with a sandwich in hand. You had some questions you wanted to ask him anyway.
You stepped into the clearing to see him sitting there with some food already in front of him, causing you to frown at the sandwich in your hand.
He looked up at you with his tail flicking in an oddly energetic fashion behind him. Unlike you, he didn’t seem to  be surprised in the slightest bit. In fact, he almost seemed amused by your confusion.
“About time you got here. I’d almost begun to suspect that Ruggie had somehow missed you,” His words were delivered with the customary smirk, and all of the various pieces snapped into place.
“So, the flowers were from you?” You grinned slightly as you sat down across from him and started unwrapping the sandwich in your hand, only to find that, rather than his preferred variety, it was your favorite kind of the sandwiches offered by the cafeteria’s deli. A rare luxury that you couldn’t usually afford.
Leona looked down at the food in front of him and, instead of answering your question, posed one of his own, “So, have you got an answer for Ruggie’s question yet?”
Your eyes widened slightly at his nonchalant question, and your mind went racing back to just a couple of days ago, when Ruggie had been questioning if you knew how Leona felt about you. “You heard him?”
Leona grinned outright at your shock, “Oh yeah, I heard the whole conversation.” He looked up at you, ears twitching almost pointedly as he leaned back. Totally relaxed despite your own embarrassment.
“You ought to pay better attention to your surroundings. Herbivores like you have to be careful if you don’t want someone catching you off guard.”
He was so smug, but you found yourself recovering from being flustered as a thought registered, “But that’s how you came to know how I felt. Right?”
He snorted before leaning forward, entering your personal space with a single easy motion that had your previous confidence failing you, “I already knew. You’d already proved that plenty of times.”
Mercifully, he leaned back, “So, have you got your answer?”
You found yourself smiling slightly at his question this time despite how pleased he seemed with himself.
 Because of course you had your answer. After he’d done so much to prove that he did care and that he paid special attention to you, how could you not?
He’d known that you’d needed help on a test, that you liked those flowers in that specific color, and that you liked this sandwich. They were all little things, but those little things made up who you were. And he’d taken the time to do all of those things just to show you that he did care and did like you because he’d overheard Ruggie’s question and correctly interpreted your own concerns even though you hadn’t voiced them.
 Paying attention to little things like that and taking the time to reassure you…. That's how you know that someone loves you.
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