#Azul Ashengrotto/Floyd Leech

[thateldribitch]

A Red Sky's Interlude

Chapter Three: Chekhov's Molotov

TW: Body Horror, Torture (oops), Murder Bois be Murdering. You've been warned.

Honestly I just post these on tumblr to make the mood boards lol. Here's AO3!

The click of a lock soothes the savage beast. After all, he’ll feed it soon. Azul takes a breath. His heartbeat calms. His eyes skim the water-stained walls with disgust and sharp interest, like he’s looking for the cheapest meat in the butcher shop. That’s what this bastard is, in a way…. Something so unsavory isn’t worth being called his prey. 

Though, that doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate Floyd’s predatory grace. He moves like he’s still in water—effortlessly twining through the narrow channels between too-small, too-cramped tables and cheap chairs. But there’s not a soul in sight. Sunshine-olive eyes instinctively dart to the flickering neon signs advertising different beer brands… and linger on one. Azul shakes his head ruefully and taps his cane as he heads towards the bar. He skims the shittily scrawled menu, before he slips into a rickety seat. It creaks. A hand immediately settles against his back.

Floyd looms. He leans against the counter, barring Azul in with an arm. Smack! His palm against the counter finally summons the stumbling bartender from a smoke-filled room. Azul taps his cane against Floyd’s leg. But, his eel remains, slitted eyes never leaving the bastard’s… throat. He’s not going anywhere, is he?

Azul sighs, shelving his palm and glancing at the smog seeping under the shutter door. “How nostalgic.”

“Hm?” The man grunts, hazily blinking at him. Perhaps he’s the namesake for the bar—the squat, ugly building rather resembles its owner.

“Robbie, I assume?” Azul smiles, all caustic charm.

“Who’s askin’?” Robbie glances at Floyd. To his credit, the eel hides his teeth in a thin-lipped smirk.

“Only someone who appreciates high quality cigars,” he chuckles, adjusting his glasses slightly.

“Yeah?” Robbie proudly shoves his stupidly thick tobacco stick back between his yellowed teeth. Thick gray clouds slide like oil down the stubbled rolls of his neck. His jaundiced eyes fall to a serpent’s lid. The thick knots of his knuckles crack, stiffen, crack again. There’s a wince to his dry lips.

Azul’s only known Robbie for a few moments, but he knows him. He’s arthritic, an addict, and loves money. The fact he flaunts cigars means he likes the status symbol, but can’t afford the lifestyle. Yet he can’t seem to see the ashes he drowns in trap him in the life he lives now. Stupid. Predictable. But even a blind rat can smell money. He subtly shifts so the genuine-gold rings glitter on his tailored gloves. Oh, how this slime of a man clenches his fingers into his knock-off watch….

Actually, it might be genuine… ly stolen. Hm.

“Indeed. Is it….” He pauses, tapping just near his mole. Floyd shifts. Robbie leans back, greasing a cloth over his disgusting hands. “Guhrka, perhaps?”

“Ha!” He shakes his head, then takes a proud puff. “ Ideales . Limited Cohiba. Premium Cuban.”

Almost $17,000 a box. Azul’s eyes appraise the man, and the bastard appraises him in kind. But, a pawnbroker can’t match the eyes of a jeweler. His pupils shift to a caecilian slit. A trick of the light, surely. Robbie sees, he gets greedy, and he forgets. Too stupid to even smell blood in the water. But, he’s either good at something, or he’s in debt with a lot of people. Pouring every extra cent into his expensive little sin. And who knows what he’s done to accomplish that. Not that Azul cares about that part….

But the bastard certainly wouldn’t have pissed him off if he hadn’t kept feeding his bad habit with a worse scheme.

“Oh, I never managed to find one of those,” he taps his chin. Floyd shifts to squat next to him. His chest still brushes the bar top. Azul brushes a hand over his head. “Hm. Would you give me one for the price of another box?”

Robbie swallows, eyes never leaving the more obvious threat. “I uh. Just one?”

“It’s the experience of it, isn’t it?” His grin is enough to poison an emperor. “Having something no one else can have?”

Eyes filling with gold-glitter greed, he immediately nods. His eyes leave Floyd for a moment… then dart back. “Er… anything for your friend?”

“Got anything with Everclear?” Floyd finally pipes up.

“On the house!”

“Bring the whole bottle,” Floyd waves him off, but curls like a spring as Robbie scurries away. Azul settles a hand against the back of his neck, and settles to thumb at those teal baby hairs. His eel shifts closer. He ruffles his fingers through his hair in the wild pattern that he likes, before smoothing it down. Floyd exhales, and nods.

There’s a huff-puff-wheeze from the back room. In eerie unison, the two mermen lock on to the re-emerging Robbie. If the man’s unnerved, he forgets the moment Azul starts to shift through his wallet. The cigar, displayed on a napkin-clad plate, totters into view. “Rob—may I call you Rob?” The man might well agree to anything, with as hypnotized as he is by the hundreds flicking through gloved fingers. “I’ll be taking one of your signs as well. Which one is your best?”

“Uh—the Pink Fairy Absinthe is an antique—?”

“Floyd, grab that one and whatever else you want.”

Rob laughs nervously, but nods. He’s sweating bullets as he stares at the bills, trying to count the green blurs flying through Azul’s fingers. He pauses, stares with his thumb over far too few bills. At least the man’s smart enough to pounce to offer the cigarette to him. It’s mahogany brown-red, rich with expensive tobacco and crisped by a slightly crinkled black and gold tag. But those blue eyes keep boring through him. The Everclear bottle miraculously smacks down on the counter as well.

Anything to taste riches, hm? Not an ounce of pride once there are dollars in his eyes. Azul plops his jaw open, curling a fist under his chin expectantly. Mesmerized, Robert delicately places the cigar in his mouth. He’s so enamored with his proximity to youthful wealth that he doesn’t notice Floyd taking the signs down with brutal efficiency. Knowing him, even the screws are probably fully intact….

He closes his teeth around the smokey-flavored paper, cocking his head away from Rob’s plastic-white Bic lighter. Jaundiced eyes fixate on the way he cocks his cigar at an elegant angle, meeting the elaborate end of a gilded coral lighter. The warm light barely catches the glint of Floyd darting his tongue over his teeth—there and gone. Their eyes lock. He puffs a cloud into those sunshine-yellow pools. Floyd’s nostrils flare; his pupils dilate.

“So, uh—about the money?” Rob reaches forward, drawn by the siren stack of bills. His jaw hangs down. Ah, so he is good at counting.

That’s all he’ll ever be good for.

Floyd snaps forward. Rob gurgles out a blood-choked scream, staggering back into the unfortunately cheap glass shelves. Crash! Shards coat the palm that bore his weight. Yet he still clutches his mouth, writhing his oil-slick ham legs against the filthy floor as if it’ll stop the red waterfall flowing down. Those pig-like eyes bug out as his tongue splats against the ground next to him.

“Fuck, ah fuck—that wath so grossth—” Floyd sputters pink-tinged spittle against the counter.

“There’s some in your teeth,” Azul exasperatedly pokes his chin off the shoulder of his ‘business’ suit.

“Uuuuuuugh,” Floyd lets himself be pushed away by a single fingertip. Oh, the impulses of this terrifying eel of his. Though, he has to admit the results are rather satisfying. Robbie is far too panicked to even move. The ‘freeze’ part of the instinctive human reactions to danger etches into his horrified features. He’s just lying there , suffering and panicking and unsure of what to do.

Perfect .

Azul just flashes his teeth in a wide, near deranged smirk. Meanwhile, Floyd peels the aluminum with his teeth, scraping a few grisly chunks off the points before spitting the cap off and to the side. He spits shrapnel at the writhe-wailing bartender—and in one, smooth motion, dives over the counter with the Everclear. Azul settles into the rickety seat, flicking ash onto the dismembered tongue as Floyd looks up at him expectantly.

“Do what you like. Just make it slow.”

“Hot.”Floyd drops to his heels, and, with one hand, yanks Robbie up to face him. Gravity causes thick, black-red rivers to gush from the stumped remains of his tongue. He kicks and wetly squeals. Floyd smashes the Everclear over his knee. Thick glass shards scatter, sliding into paper-thin skin, digging deeper with each, pained writhe. A pitched-hoarse giggle masks a gargle-scream.

“So you really thought ya could give away our shrimp?” His single, gold eye burns through the man’s rotten soul. Slowly, he drags him up. Red leaks down the sides of his head, as the hairs strain against the weight of his whale-bloat gut. Up and up. Just far enough that he can jam a piece of glass into the vulnerable joint of his knee. “How much did you get from that Lionfish, huh?”

The glass jerks out. Dives back into the skin with a far more vicious strike. “One cigar?” He drives the shard deeper. Something severs. His leg falls limp. “Two?” Deeper–it splinters before it can pierce through to the other side. Floyd pouts, drops him, and stands. “Ugh. Boring.”

His foot cracks down on Robbie’s other knee, shattering it with the sheer force of the stomp. Limp in a pool of his own blood, he only knows peace for a moment before Floyd jolts a spell through his system. He chokes awake, eyes wide with fear.

“Nuh uh.” That sharp, wild grin pounces back down. “We’re done when I say we’re done.” Pausing, he cocks his head to the side, then scratches his cheek. “Or Azul does.”

“You’re fine,” he chuckles as he leans over the bartop, waving his hand like a king giving some royal decree. Floyd’s eyes lurch back, like one predator snapping to acknowledge another… and melts as Azul pets his head. “Don’t mind me. I’m just enjoying the show.”

A pleased hum accentuate’s Floyd’s pleased blush, unsettling over his sadistic grin. He whips around. Crunch . His fist drives into his nose. And he just. Keeps. Swinging. It looks barbaric, wailing on a worm barely able to moan in pain. But it’s precise. Ribs! Pelvis– femur! Humerus , carpals. Fingers . He snaps those like wooden sticks, each joint splintered like a crippled lightning bolt. At least twice more, Floyd must use the spell to keep. The bastard. Awake.  

Abruptly, he stops. Elegantly, he dives back up to place a blood-stained watch over Azul’s waiting wrist. He nips his finger, grins as it flicks him, and then dives back down. It’s one, smooth motion—a predatory, primal swoop. As if he were one with the air as he was with the water. A ribbon of motion. Pure, primal grace. And so sweet. He rolls his eyes and smiles, admiring the brass against his cuff. It’s an antique. What a find. 

And what a cheapass.

“This was an Oro Blanco, by the way,” Azul flicks the cigar with the hastily-wrapped black label on to the sputter-screaming man. An ember sparks on his clothes, ignites into wildfire along the pools of strategically soaked skin. The Everclear burns with frightening speed. The smell of cooked flesh fills the area, as Robbie writhes and thrashes and gargles.  But he looks on, glasses shining unimpressed before the flames.

“Disgusting old man,” he drives the heavy cane tip into Robbie’s sternum. Drives hard enough to feel the bone splinter. The grease-stained wife-beater drowns in strangled chunks of boiling blood. But the thick clots can’t escape the throat fast enough. Unable to scream as he drowns in his own lifeblood, Robbie feels his skin crack from the heat. Pink muscle bursts from seared fissures. He can smell himself cooking. Perhaps it’s the panic, perhaps it’s the pain, but he begins to contort wildly, uncontrollably. A body’s final twitch of life before—

Floyd waves his pen. Robbie chokes as he’s robbed of the chance to die. Because he’s not allowed to leave so easily. Oh, they won’t stick around long…. But they’ll make him suffer long enough to make sure his tinderbox bar will be his coffin. 

“They’ll never know, you know,” Azul removes his glasses to look Robbie in the boiling pits where his eyes once sang their silent screams. “They’ll think you drank the alcohol equivalent to gasoline, stumbled into your bar, and bit your tongue off. And then the rubble crushed you. The. End.” 

No one will bother to look further. No one will avenge him. He’ll die in the smoke he once craved. The realization tears another gargling wail from the man…. But blue eyes only glitter with hellfire. “You underestimate pretty things, don’t you, Rob? That’s why you think they’re easy money….”

“You are pretty small, though,” Floyd plops his chin on Azul’s shoulder. “Like this, anyway.” His hands hook around his waist, dragging him closer. He doesn’t care about the slow gasps in the wheezing cries. He doesn’t like the smell, though. Doesn’t like the heat. He all but drags Azul off the chair, away from the fire. 

He just dangles, plopping his head back with a hum. “I’m still not our smallest.”

Not anymore.

Floyd hums back at him, drumming his fingers against Azul’s stomach. He drags him up to flip him around and bury him in his chest. Compliantly, he wraps his legs around his lover’s middle, letting himself be carried off into the night. By the way Floyd hunches around him further, he knows he’s pleased by the gesture….

Possessive and protective in one.

On their way out, Azul flicks his pen three times. Once to clean the blood from their outfits; once to remove their tracks; and a final flick makes Robbie gasp in one more lungful of smoke. And with that, he can contently settle into his lover’s neck. He nudges his nose against the old imprint of his teeth against Floyd’s steady pulse. 

“I’m assuming you teleported those signs home?” He drapes his arms gracefully over broad shoulders. 

“Mhm.” Floyd drags his cheek across his like a pleased cat. “Gonna give that pink one to Shrimpy.” 

“Cute,” he hums. Content silence spirals between them. People bolt past. Screams ring out of ‘fire, fire!!’ Smoke blocks out the moon. But no one pays any mind to the sweet couple doting on each other. Believe it or not, humans tend to look away from one lover being whisked away in the other’s arms. And it’s dark.Their more aquatic features are hidden by the cover of night.

“You think you can breathe underwater like this?” Floyd’s voice shatters his schemes, makes him focus on the rare, sheepish tint to the question.

“Oh? And why, pray tell, are you asking that, Dear?” He purrs.

“...You’re really small like this,” he mumbles. He squeezes Azul closer, fingers kneading at the small of his back. “Just. You’re usually bigger. Y’know?”

“Mm. I suppose I probably can—”

That’s all the encouragement Floyd needs.

Splash!

The last thing he thinks he hears is some smug little giggle about hogging him. Something about Jade. Revenge. Petty brotherly squabbles. But then sharp teeth skim over his lips, water bubbles around them, and his thoughts slip away in the slide of Floyd’s tongue against his. There’s no need to worry, after all….

He knows both of his other mates are fine.

They’re together, after all.

Some people were probably like "But where's Jade?!"

Oh we'll answer that eventually, don't you worry.

[ephemii]

𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚! 📸✨

Grace finally has a Magicam account, and what better use for it than immortalizing their friendships?

.𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ.

🦐 yuur_grace

❤️ 630 🗨️ 43 🔄 22

𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 I finally made an account!! First pic, tea party preparations with housewarden of Heartslabyul! 🌹🫖

❤️ 𝗮𝗰𝗲_𝗼𝗳𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 LMAO? HE'S SUCH A PRUDE LOLL

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎¬♠️ 𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗱𝗲_𝗱𝗲𝘂𝗰𝗲 @ace_ofhearts dude you're aware that housewarden Rosehearts owns a magicam account right?

♦️ 𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗻𝗱_𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗱 totes adorbs!! but kinda bummed u didn't pick me for such a cute pic idea... (ㅠ‸ㅠ)

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎¬🦐 𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 @diamond_mind Oh I'm so sorry!! I got so busy with preparations that it slipped my mind u_u; I'll save you a spot next time, promise!

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎.𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

🦐 yuur_grace

❤️ 450.2k 🗨️ 130.1k 🔄 130k

𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 ....okay so this MIGHT turn into a series. I pray to the Seven that Leona isn't active on magicam or else I'm migrating (he looks so peaceful tho, doesn't he?!)

🐺 𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗵𝗼𝘄𝗹__ Grace.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ¬🦐 𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 @jackhowl__ Jack...... 5 replies

🐆 𝗿𝘂𝗴𝗴_𝗯𝘂𝗰𝗰𝗵𝗶𝟯𝟵𝟳 you owe me a deluxe cutlet sandwich now btw 😇

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎¬🦐 𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 I don't recall that being on our TOA?? 1 replies

🐰 𝘀𝗮𝘃𝗮𝗻𝗮_𝗻𝗽𝗰 ????? LEONA KINGSCHOLAR???? ISN'T THAT THE PREFECT WHAT. 1435 replies

🦁 𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗺_𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝟮𝟱𝟲𝟯𝟴𝟮𝟵𝟮𝟱𝟮 Sevens you narrow minded idiot.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎¬ 🌐 𝘁𝘄𝘀𝘁𝗻𝗽𝗰 is that literally fucking leona kingscholar 34572 replies

➻oh, except.... maybe they forgot one little detail...

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎.𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

🦐 yuur_grace

❤️ 23.2k 🗨️ 2.3k 🔄 442

𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 Decided to pay our octobuddy a little visit at the @mostrolounge this afternoon 🐙🍹What a face! (also, wow where did all of you come from?? Was Leona's sleeping visage that baffling of a prospect? ùᴗu,, actually, I'm now realizing that I hadn't even set this account to private...oops.)

🐬 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁𝘀.𝗮.𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘆 ahahah!! oh man look at his face! little shrimpy's got guts~

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ¬🦐 𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 thanks for being the cameraman buddy ùᴗu ͙͘͡★ 7 replies

❤️ 𝗮𝗰𝗲_𝗼𝗳𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 I'm surprised you didn't get ptsd just from walking into that room LMAO

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ¬🦐 𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 @ace_ofhearts hm okay how about you join me next time

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ¬❤️ 𝗮𝗰𝗲_𝗼𝗳𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 @yuur_grace no thank you <3

🐬 𝗷𝗮𝗱𝗲.𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗰𝗵. hahah. how swift. perhaps i may join you one day to capture such riveting images. 3 replies

🌐 𝘁𝘄𝘀𝘁𝗻𝗽𝗰 ok no I'm actually so invested we can't just move on from the fact that this guy showed up all of a sudden and just KNOWS Leona kingscholar personally?!?? 200 replies

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎.𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

🦐 𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲

❤️ 530.5k 🗨️ 221k 🔄 138k

𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 Another face cradled! And a dear friend hugged! Had a blast at this wonderful get-together in Scarabia dorm ☀️🏮🎇 I think I'm ready to sleep for a week though hahaha ^^;

☀️ 𝗸𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗺✪ I'm so glad you came! I don't think I've had that much fun with friends in a while! You're always welcome whenever you feel like visiting 😊✨

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎¬ 🦐 𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 @kalimalasim always!

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎¬ 🌐 𝘁𝘄𝘀𝘁𝗻𝗽𝗰 ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME 1240 replies

🐍 𝗷𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹_𝘃 There's still some leftovers if you'd like to take some for Grim. Or yourself, really. 2 replies

🌐 𝘁𝘄𝘀𝘁𝗻𝗽𝗰 oh okay so there's even MORE. why not. SURE. 212 replies

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎.𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

🦐 𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲

❤️ 970.6k 🗨️ 596.3k 🔄 502k

𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 Nothing better than a long evening spent with the beauty queen himself @vilshoenheit. And look, he reciprocated! How sweet~ 💜✨ A wonderful idol, an even better friend.

👑 𝘃𝗶𝗹𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗲𝗻𝗵𝗲𝗶𝘁✪ How precious. Do take good care of that manicure.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎¬👑 𝘃𝗶𝗹𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗲𝗻𝗵𝗲𝗶𝘁 Wait, Grace, is this a private post?

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ¬🦐 𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 will do! 🤍 2304 replies

🍎 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗹_𝗳𝗲𝗹𝗺𝗶𝗲𝗿 man you're better than me, i can't stand a second doin any a this balderdash

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎¬🦐 𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 your loss,, it's sooo relaxing 🙂‍↕️

🌐 𝘁𝘄𝘀𝘁𝗻𝗽𝗰 YOU GUYS I CANT COPE ARE YOU KIDDING MEEEEEEE 784 replies

🌐 𝘁𝘄𝘀𝘁𝗻𝗽𝗰 is this guy some sorta undercover cop or sum?? how's he got all these crazy ass ties??

🏹 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗵𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗸 oh, là là... quelle beauté, the calm before the storm~

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎.𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

🦐 𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲

❤️ 60.3k 🗨️ 43.4k 🔄 22.5k

𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 Seems like I've been graced with this nice little picture from @0r1h0_shr0ud2 during a visit to Idia's dorm! No face hold unfortunately, but it's quite cute!🩵🤍 Very rare, it seems Idia has yet to realize the photo being taken ^o^. Peep the adorable little PreMo gacha figure I got for him...? 👀

🩵 𝟬𝗿𝟭𝗵𝟬_𝘀𝗵𝗿𝟬𝘂𝗱𝟮 I was so happy that you decided to stay and keep my brother company, Grace Alexander-san. Idia doesn't show it, but you really made his day!

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ¬🦐 𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 @0r1h0_shr0ud2 awww! I'm always happy to spend time with you both! 🤍 3 replies

💙 𝗴𝗹𝟬𝟬𝗺𝘂𝗿𝗮𝗶 woah when was this?! you can't just spring such a rare event out of nowhere! delete, delete!!! 5 replies

♦️ 𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗻𝗱_𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗱 oh my Seven!! you both look so dope! truly inspiring— and can we talk about how *adorbs* you look with that biscuit hanging from ur mouth?? (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎¬🦐 𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 @diamond_mind brothaaaa keep this up and you'll be fighting off rumors for days LOL ùᴗu ahuahu

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ¬❤️ 𝗮𝗰𝗲_𝗼𝗳𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 @yuur_grace OH U WANNA HEAR ABOUT RUMORS??? HAHAH

🌐 𝘁𝘄𝘀𝘁𝗻𝗽𝗰 Am I tweaking or is that like. *The* Idia Shroud from the family Shroud part of the largest technological pioneers in Twisted Wonderland. Or am I insane.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ¬🌐 𝘁𝘄𝘀𝘁𝗻𝗽𝗰 this HAS to be a social experiment atp?? What in the world is this guy's power??? 467 replies

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎.𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

🦐 𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲

❤️ 2.1m 🗨️ 740.3k 🔄 680k

𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 it felt almost special, leaving my vest off. Maybe it was the winter breeze. Tsunotaro helped me with his cape, though, despite my insistence. What a sweet personality! 💚🐉 We took a long walk through an abandoned woods, found some gorgeous gargoyles. To end my little series, I asked to hold him as well. He doesn't own a magicam account so I can't tag him... But at least he can keep the pictures :) Hurray! It ends! 🤍✨

🌐 𝘁𝘄𝘀𝘁𝗻𝗽𝗰 THERE IS NOOOOO FUCKING WAY I REFUSE NO NO ABSOLUTELY NO WAY THIS IS AN EVIL PRANK WHAT WHAT WHATTTTATSYSYTHJDHJ WHO IS THIS GUYYYYYY 1204 replies

🌐 𝘁𝘄𝘀𝘁𝗻𝗽𝗰 OH YES DROP THE BOMB ON US WHY NOT. OKAY. THREE OTHER CELEBS WEREN'T ENOUGH I GUESS. 762 replies

🦇 𝘃𝗮𝗻𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗲𝗲 Grace, you must know I have never been so entertained in my long life. Why, Malleus himself sits beside me and stares down at the screen in bafflement!

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ¬🦐 𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 @vanrougee ???? Explain?? ToT

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎¬♦️ 𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗻𝗱_𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗱 @yuur_grace you sweet summer child 😭✋

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎¬ 🐊 𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴.𝘇𝗶𝗴𝗯𝗼𝗹𝘁 @yuur_grace YOU ARE ENTIRELY UNCONNIVING. YOU PLACE MALLEUS UNDER INTENSE SCRUTINY FROM THE MASSES AS WELL AS LADY MALEFICIA! YOU SHOULD BE MORE MINDFUL, HUMAN!!

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ¬🦐 𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗿_𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲 OH my god.

HEHEHE I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS AS MUCH AS I DID THIS WAS SO EXHAUSTING BUT SO FUN TO MAKE !!! 🩷🤍🩷✨✨ Also pls don't look too hard at the numbers ik a lot of them are wrong I'm sleep deprived and high on 3 monster cans 🤍

[bananahkim]

Twisted Wonderland icons!

Heartslabyul

Savanaclaw

Octavinelle

Scarabia

Pomefiore

Ignihyde

Diasomnia

Please credit me when you use them. Do not edit my icons.

[jangmi-latte]

we're a villain school, of course we got a pocket sized version of our family.

[papicup]

Ladies and gentleman....

Him

.

(I was lazy to add hat that Jack was holding )

And the outfit is complete . Lilia what are you doing in the new event???? 🤧( i wish this was real )

EVery halloween without lilia is NOT complete ( coming from a person who don't even celebrate )

Me after this:

Can somebody tell me can i reblog but organize it so the posts are seperate or do i have to make a reblog acc ? I really wanna start reblogging but i feel like i will mess up the blog 🗿

[pawnyao]

Always an angel never a God

[lapin0522]

[eldritch-alicedoll]

his princess sketch version

Since I make it for my portfolio so I want to post my sketch hehe

[solxamber]

Pick Us!

In which you have to choose a club and it looks like everyone wants a piece of you.

Part 2 (Choosing a club)

You were minding your own business, dodging Grim's increasingly creative ways to get you to buy premium tuna, when Crowley swept in with his usual dramatic flair.

“Ah, my dear pupil!” he exclaimed, arms wide like a bad community theater actor. “To better immerse yourself in school life, you must join a club. It’s mandatory!”

Before you could protest or ask any clarifying questions, he disappeared in a swirl of his cape, leaving you standing there with nothing but Grim’s unsympathetic shrug.

Naturally, this information traveled faster than you could process it, because the next thing you knew, Ace was practically dragging you by the arm across campus.

The Basketball Club

“Alright, listen,” Ace began, spinning a basketball on one finger and grinning like he just invented the sport. “You’re obviously joining the basketball club. It’s the best. I’m here, Floyd’s here, and even Jamil’s here, so really, it’s a no-brainer.”

“Is that supposed to sell it?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Uh, yeah!” he said, tossing the ball toward you. It immediately bounced off your hands and hit the floor. Ace, undeterred, caught it mid-bounce and gave you a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you. I’m, like, super good at this. Just ask him!”

From across the gym, some poor guy—bless his heart—tried to nod in support, but you caught the nervous look he shot Ace instead.

“Okay, sure,” you said, “but isn’t this just an excuse for you to show off?”

“Maybe,” Ace said with zero shame, dribbling the ball dramatically before attempting a layup. The ball bounced off the rim and into Floyd’s waiting hands.

“Shrimpy!” Floyd called, tossing the ball behind his head without looking (and still somehow making the shot). “Join the club. It’ll be fuuuuun.”

You hesitated, because with Floyd, “fun” could mean literally anything. “Define fun,” you said cautiously.

“Simple! You, me, and Ace crushing people in games!” Floyd grinned, leaning closer to you. “And if anyone tries to mess with you, I’ll squish ‘em.”

Ace groaned. “Floyd, you can’t just threaten people into joining.”

“Why not?” Floyd asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Because it’s weird!”

“No, it’s effective,” Floyd countered, shooting you another toothy grin. “C’mon, Shrimpy, you’re already here. I’ll even let you call the plays. Or, you know, not. Whatever.”

“...You’re just bored, aren’t you?”

“Obviously,” Floyd admitted, leaning lazily against the wall. “But hey, if you join, I won’t let Ace hog the ball. Win-win, right?”

And then there was Jamil, who had been sitting silently on the sidelines, observing the chaos with his usual exasperated expression.

“Are they done?” he asked, finally standing and walking over to you.

“I don’t think so,” you replied, watching as Floyd tried to steal the ball from Ace mid-dribble.

Jamil sighed. “Typical.” He glanced at you, his tone cool and measured. “Ignore them. They’re just trying to drag you into their antics.”

“Antics?” Floyd repeated, offended.

“Yeah, Jamil,” Ace added, narrowing his eyes. “What’re you implying?”

“I’m implying you’re both terrible at convincing people,” Jamil said smoothly. He turned back to you. “If you’re interested in joining the club, you’ll actually get something out of it. Physical exercise, teamwork, strategy. And if you stick around, I’ll make sure you’re not stuck with them during practice.”

“Hey!” Ace protested.

Floyd just laughed. “Jamil’s still salty about the last scrimmage.”

“Hardly,” Jamil said, arching an eyebrow. “I’m just pointing out that if you want to learn how to actually play, you’d be better off with me.”

You blinked. “Are you… offering to train me?”

He shrugged, but there was a faint smirk on his face. “If it means saving you from their nonsense, yes.”

All you can do is sigh and say "I'll think about it"

Track and Field Club

You barely made it out of the basketball club’s gym alive when Deuce grabbed your wrist like his life depended on it. His expression was that unique combination of earnest and panicked—classic Deuce.

“Wait, don’t decide yet!” he said, already dragging you down the corridor. “You haven’t even seen the track and field club! You might like it better!”

“Deuce,” you began, trying to keep up without tripping. “I haven’t even—”

“Just come on!”

Before you knew it, you were standing on the edge of the outdoor track, blinking in the sunlight as Deuce shoved you forward like he was presenting a prize to a panel of judges. Jack, in the middle of sprint drills, stopped mid-stride to look over at you. His tail flicked once, and he jogged over with that intimidating mix of focus and curiosity he always had.

“You’re trying to recruit them?” Jack asked, crossing his arms.

Deuce nodded, puffing out his chest like he was making the ultimate sales pitch. “Yeah! Track and field’s way better than basketball. No offense to those guys.”

“I take offense,” you muttered, but neither of them heard.

“Plus,” Deuce continued, “we’ve got variety. Running, jumping, throwing—you can do anything. It’s not just bouncing a ball around, you know?”

Jack nodded in agreement. “It’s good for discipline. Builds strength, endurance, and focus. If you want to improve yourself, this is the place to do it.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, glancing at the track. “And what if I… don’t exactly have focus?”

“That’s fine!” Deuce said, grinning brightly. “We’ll help you! Right, Jack?”

Jack nodded. “Of course. We’ll start with basic drills.” He gave you a once-over, sizing you up. “How’s your stamina?”

“Define… stamina,” you said cautiously, because you had a feeling your answer wasn’t going to impress him.

Jack’s ears twitched, and he leaned slightly closer. “How far can you run without stopping?”

“Uh,” you began, nervously shifting your weight. “To the fridge?”

Jack blinked. “...You’re joking, right?”

Deuce coughed loudly, clapping a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about that! Everyone starts somewhere, right? Besides, they’re here because they want to try something new.”

You stared at Deuce. “I don’t remember saying that.”

“Exactly!” he continued, ignoring you entirely. “Think of how awesome it’d be to have us training you! We’ll get you in the best shape of your life. Right, Jack?”

Jack, who was still mildly horrified by your fridge comment, hesitated. “...Sure.”

Deuce, now fully in salesman mode, gestured to the track like it was some sort of holy land. “And you don’t have to worry about teamwork stuff! You can focus on your personal goals and—”

“Unless you’re in a relay,” Jack interjected.

“Right, but relays are cool!” Deuce added quickly. “Like… team spirit, you know?”

You glanced between the two of them, taking in Jack’s intensity and Deuce’s enthusiasm. They were both staring at you with a mix of hope and determination, and honestly, it was kind of endearing.

“Okay,” you said slowly. “If I join, do I get to skip the first practice?”

“No,” Jack said immediately.

Deuce grinned sheepishly. “But we’ll go easy on you!”

“Jack doesn’t look like he believes that.”

Jack tilted his head, his tail swishing once. “You’ll thank me later.”

“I’m not sure I’ll survive later,” you muttered.

Deuce ignored that, clapping his hands together. “Great! I knew you’d love it here! C’mon, let’s give them a quick demo, Jack!”

Before you could protest, the two of them took off around the track, moving at speeds that made you feel dizzy just watching. Deuce kept glancing back to grin at you, while Jack stayed focused, every stride perfect.

You stood there, bewildered and vaguely impressed, wondering if joining any club was a good idea at all. Still, as Deuce stumbled back toward you, sweaty but grinning like a puppy who just fetched a stick, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Think about it, okay?” he said, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “We’d love to have you here.”

Jack jogged up beside him, barely winded. “You’ll fit in if you put in the effort.”

“Yeah,” Deuce agreed, nodding earnestly. “So… what do you think?”

You hesitated, glancing at the track, then at them. “…I’ll get back to you.”

Deuce grinned like that was a victory, and Jack just nodded approvingly. As they walked back to their drills, you realized you had yet another club to consider—and these two weren’t going to make it any easier.

Board Game Club

Before you could make your escape—or even fully process the events of the day—your wrist was suddenly seized by Ortho, who zoomed in out of nowhere like a missile with a purpose.

“There you are!” Ortho exclaimed with unsettling cheer. His grip was surprisingly firm for someone who probably didn’t even need to touch you to move you. “Big Brother’s been waiting! Come on!”

“Wait—what? Ortho, where are we—”

“No time for questions!” And just like that, he lifted you into the air like you were a deranged package and he was some kind of express courier. You barely had time to flail before he rocketed off, delivering you with precision to the board game club's headquarters.

You landed with an unceremonious thud, right in front of Idia, who nearly fell out of his chair.

“Ortho!” Idia hissed, his flaming hair flaring. “You can’t just abduct people like that!”

“But you said you wanted them to join!” Ortho chirped. “Mission accomplished!”

Azul, seated calmly at the head of the table, adjusted his glasses and smirked. “Well, well. A delivery service—how efficient. Welcome to the board game club.”

You were still processing the fact that you’d been airmailed when Idia slouched lower in his seat, muttering, “Ugh, so embarrassing. Ortho, seriously…”

“Uh,” you began, brushing yourself off. “Hi?”

Azul gestured grandly to the table in front of him, where an array of meticulously organized board games was displayed like they were ancient treasures. “Here, we focus on strategy, intellect, and the fine art of outwitting your opponent. Unlike other clubs,” he said with a pointed glance at the door, “this one doesn’t require you to break a sweat.”

“That’s actually kind of appealing,” you admitted, still wary.

Idia perked up slightly, his hair flickering a little brighter. “See? I told you it’s cool. I mean, if you like, uh, not running around like some NPC.”

Ortho leaned over, nodding enthusiastically. “And Big Brother’s really good at this stuff! He’s undefeated in our club tournaments!”

“That’s because you’re the only other member who’s not a liability!” Idia blurted, before realizing what he’d just said. “Uh—I mean—you’d totally, like, be an asset. Probably.”

Azul cleared his throat, clearly annoyed at being excluded from the compliment. “Allow me to demonstrate. Why don’t we have a quick match? You against Idia.”

“What?” Idia sat up straight, his hair sparking nervously. “No way! That’s not fair—I can’t just—”

Azul gave him a smile sharp enough to cut glass. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of losing, Idia.”

Idia’s face turned pink. “Fine,” he grumbled, setting up the board. “But don’t blame me if I crush them.”

You sat down reluctantly, realizing too late that this was probably a trap. Idia’s fingers moved at lightning speed as he set up his pieces, muttering calculations under his breath. Ortho leaned over your shoulder, giving you completely useless advice like, “Just believe in yourself!”

To your surprise, you managed to hold your own for the first few turns. Idia glanced up at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were reevaluating your existence.

“Huh,” he murmured. “Not bad. For a newbie.”

“Is that a compliment?” you asked, moving your piece cautiously.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he said quickly, his face turning red again.

Azul chuckled from his spot at the table. “See? A game of wits and strategy. Isn’t this far superior to running laps or throwing balls into hoops?”

“Hey!” you said, pointing your game piece at him. “Don’t diss the other clubs. They’re passionate too!”

Azul raised an eyebrow. “Passion doesn’t win battles. Strategy does.”

The game dragged on, and by the end of it, you were completely out of your depth. Idia, on the other hand, looked like he’d just stepped out of an anime boss fight, his hair flaring dramatically as he made his final move.

“Checkmate,” he said, grinning slightly.

“Wrong game, Big Brother,” Ortho corrected.

“Whatever!” Idia snapped, but he didn’t look too upset. “It’s over, okay?”

Azul leaned forward, smirking again. “So, what do you think? Ready to join?”

You leaned back in your chair, your brain fried from trying to keep up. “I… I need to think about it.”

Ortho beamed. “That means they’re considering it! Success!”

Idia muttered something under his breath about “too much pressure” and “why is this so stressful,” but you caught a tiny flicker of a smile as he fiddled with one of the game pieces.

Azul, ever the businessman, handed you a brochure as you left. “Take your time. But remember—intellect always wins.”

You left the board game club feeling like you’d just survived a high-stakes negotiation. And as Ortho cheerfully waved goodbye, you couldn’t help but wonder if all the clubs were this intense.

Film Studies Club

You were rounding a corner, still recovering from your latest club recruitment ambush, when a perfectly manicured hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.

Before you could even yelp, you found yourself being gracefully pulled into the Film Studies Clubroom by none other than Vil Schoenheit. His strides were purposeful, his posture impeccable, and his expression…well, let’s just say it was the definition of I’m doing you a favor, peasant.

“Vil?” you sputtered, barely managing to keep up. “What are you—”

“I need to vet you,” Vil said simply, his voice calm but leaving no room for argument. “The Film Studies Club could use some fresh blood, and you look… adequate.”

“Adequate?” you echoed, mildly offended but too intrigued to argue further.

He led you to the center of the room, gesturing for you to stand under a perfectly angled spotlight. “Don’t misunderstand,” Vil continued, crossing his arms and regarding you with a critical eye. “I’m merely evaluating your potential. Our club requires both talent and diligence—qualities that, if I’m being honest, are rare in this school.”

“Uh, thanks?”

Vil ignored you, pulling out a script and flipping through it like he was deciding your fate. “If you can’t pass the audition, you can still join as a backstage hand,” he said airily. “We’re short on those too.”

“Wow, what an inspiring pitch,” you muttered, but Vil’s sharp gaze silenced you immediately.

“Read this,” he instructed, handing you the script and gesturing for you to begin.

You hesitated, glancing at the lines. “You’re serious? Right now?”

“Do I look like someone who jokes about art?” Vil asked, raising a perfectly sculpted brow.

Point taken.

Clearing your throat, you started reading, trying to put some effort into it. Vil watched you intently, his expression inscrutable. He occasionally tilted his head, as if mentally dissecting every word you spoke, every movement you made.

When you finished, you looked at him expectantly, waiting for his verdict.

Vil tapped his chin, his eyes narrowing. “You’re not hopeless,” he said finally, in a tone that made it sound like a compliment. “Rough around the edges, yes, but I’ve seen worse.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly.

“Don’t be smug. You’ll need work,” Vil continued, ignoring your tone. “But I suppose you have potential.”

“And if I didn’t?”

Vil gave a delicate shrug, his expression cool. “Then you’d still be useful behind the scenes. But consider this your opportunity to elevate yourself. Being part of my club means striving for excellence—no exceptions.”

You couldn’t help but smirk. “Is this really about me, or are you just desperate for members?”

Vil’s eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of amusement there. “Desperation has nothing to do with it. I’m simply ensuring that my club remains unparalleled. If you happen to benefit from my guidance, so be it.”

“Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse? I'll think about it.”

Vil’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles. “Smart choice. Now, don’t make me regret it.”

With that, he turned on his heel, leaving you standing there wondering what exactly you’d just signed up for—and if Vil’s idea of “elevating yourself” involved a complete personality overhaul.

Science Club

You barely had time to process Vil's dramatic exit when a familiar voice whispered theatrically, “Ah, my muse! Fate conspires to bring us together!”

Before you could react, Rook Hunt appeared—swooped, really—out of nowhere and expertly whisked you away from the Film Studies Clubroom. It was less like being led and more like being caught mid-flight by an overly enthusiastic bird of prey.

“Rook?!” you yelped as he practically danced you down the hallway. “What is happening?”

“Mon ami,” he declared, his eyes glittering with fervor, “you must see the science club! A world of wonder awaits you!”

“Wait—science?” you echoed, incredulous. “You’re in the science club?”

“Ah, oui! Science is but another stage upon which the beauty of nature and humanity performs its eternal dance! The experiments! The cultivation of life! The creation of culinary masterpieces! All expressions of art, no?”

You weren’t sure if he was describing scientific principles or poetry, but before you could argue, Rook had dragged you into the science clubroom.

The room was a chaotic mix of activities. One corner housed a vibrant garden under grow lights, another had chemistry equipment bubbling away ominously, and a third corner smelled suspiciously like freshly baked bread. Trey Clover stood near a counter, pulling cookies out of an oven as if this were the most normal thing to happen in a science lab.

“Ah, there you are,” Trey greeted, smiling warmly. “Rook said he’d bring someone by. I’m guessing you’re deciding on a club?”

You glanced between Rook, who was already gesturing dramatically at a rack of test tubes, and Trey, who held up a tray of cookies like a peace offering. “I… guess I am?”

“Bien sûr!” Rook exclaimed, sweeping an arm toward the greenery in the corner. “Behold! We grow life itself here! Tomatoes, basil, flowers—anything your heart desires!”

Trey added, “We also bake and cook as part of our activities. It’s a great way to learn about chemistry and make something useful at the same time.”

“And explosions!” Rook chimed in enthusiastically. “Occasionally, there are explosions.”

Trey shot him a look. “Not… intentionally.”

Rook turned back to you, his expression radiant. “Think of the possibilities, mon ami! With science, you can cultivate beauty, create masterpieces, and perhaps even unlock secrets of the universe! And, of course, I am here to guide you—to nurture the artistic soul that dwells within!”

“Also,” Trey added, far more pragmatically, “we’re not picky about what activities you want to try. It’s a flexible club, so you could do a little bit of everything.”

You considered this as Trey handed you a cookie. It was warm and delicious, which admittedly swayed your opinion a little.

“Hmm,” you said thoughtfully, “so I could garden, bake, and blow things up all in one club?”

“Exactly!” Trey said with a smile.

Rook leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a stage whisper. “And think, mon cher—if you hone your talents here, you could support Vil in creating the cinematic beauty he so envisions! Science and art, united in harmony!”

You blinked. “Wait, are you trying to recruit me for this club and help Vil at the same time?”

Rook grinned. “Nature does not limit itself to one purpose, mon ami, and neither do I.”

Trey sighed but didn’t deny it.

“Well, this is definitely… something,” you said, nibbling on the cookie. “I’ll think about it.”

“Ah, a maybe!” Rook clasped his hands together like you’d just promised him your soul. “A victory in itself!”

Before you could say anything else, Rook twirled you toward the door, clearly ready to drag you to your next destination—or possibly just keep talking about “the poetry of chlorophyll” until you gave in.

Pop Music Club

Just as you were beginning to suspect Rook was about to wax poetic about “the lyrical mysteries of yeast fermentation,” a sudden voice interrupted.

“Oh-ho, what’s this?”

Before you could even react, Lilia Vanrouge materialized out of thin air, practically glowing with chaotic energy. “Ah, my dear friend! You’re far too bright a star to waste away on science experiments! Come with me—pop stardom awaits!”

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

And just like that, you were swept up in Lilia’s whirlwind. He dragged you down the hallway with a skip in his step and a mischievous laugh, leaving Rook and Trey in his dust.

“Lilia, I can walk, you know!” you said, stumbling to keep up.

“But where’s the drama in that?” Lilia replied, cackling as he pushed open the doors to the Pop Music Clubroom.

Inside, the room was a cacophony of sound and color. Disco lights spun, a half-finished banner reading ‘Next Big Thing!’ hung lopsidedly on the wall, and Kalim was gleefully banging away on a drum like it owed him money. Cater sat cross-legged on the floor, scrolling through his phone and periodically snapping selfies with sparkly filters.

“Oh, hey!” Kalim greeted you, waving so enthusiastically he almost hit himself with the drum stick. “You’re here to join us, right? This club is the best! We have music, dancing, and it’s all just super fun!”

Cater glanced up from his phone, his grin wide and just a little too calculated. “You’d fit right in! Think of all the magicam-worthy moments we could create together. Plus, the followers you’d get? Off the charts.”

“Followers?” you echoed, glancing at Lilia.

“Ah, but of course!” Lilia said, flinging his arms wide as if presenting you to an adoring crowd. “The Pop Music Club isn’t just about music—it’s about presence! Charisma! The ability to captivate a room with a single note or a dazzling smile!”

“It’s also about having a good time!” Kalim added, spinning in a circle for no reason other than sheer joy.

Cater nodded, holding up his phone. “And don’t forget—every moment is a potential viral video. You, me, Lilia, and Kalim as the dream team? We’d own the algorithm.”

You hesitated. “Uh, I don’t even play an instrument.”

“Neither does he!” Lilia said brightly, pointing at some unfortunate bystander.

“Hey!” he protested. “I play the Kalimba!” He promptly tried to play a note, missed the rhythm entirely, and Lilia laughed like it was the funniest thing ever.

“See?” Lilia said, unfazed. “Talent is optional here. All we need is your spirit!”

Cater stood, brushing imaginary dust off his pants. “We also dabble in choreography, so if you’ve got two left feet, don’t worry—we’ll teach you how to make them look intentional.”

“Come on, join us!” Kalim said, grabbing your hands and bouncing up and down like an overexcited puppy. “We could totally use your energy!”

“What energy?” you asked, deadpan. “I’ve been dragged between clubs all day—I barely have any left.”

“Exactly!” Lilia said with a wink. “We’ll channel what’s left into a glorious crescendo of pop music excellence!”

You weren’t sure whether to laugh, cry, or just surrender entirely to the chaos. Lilia’s grin was practically infectious, Kalim’s enthusiasm radiated like the sun, and Cater was already adjusting the angle of his phone to catch you in the best light.

“Well,” you muttered, “at least it sounds… lively.”

“Lively is an understatement,” Cater said, snapping a selfie with you and Lilia in the background. “Hashtag PopStarsInTheMaking! You’re gonna love it here.”

“Let me guess,” you said dryly. “You’re already planning to upload that, aren’t you?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Cater said with a wink.

Lilia clapped his hands, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “So, what do you say? Ready to unleash your inner star?”

“I… will think about it,” you replied, edging toward the door.

“Think fast!” Kalim called after you. “The bass is calling your name!”

You bolted before anyone could shove an instrument into your hands.

Equestrian Club

As you hurried down the hallway, still reeling from the pop music chaos you'd just escaped, you nearly collided with a flash of red.

"Ah, there you are!"

You blinked up at none other than Riddle Rosehearts, who looked as though he'd been scouring the entire school for you. His eyes narrowed, and his voice carried a tone of stern authority mixed with subtle relief.

"I've been looking for you," Riddle said, crossing his arms. "Ace and Deuce mentioned that you’re considering which club to join. As housewarden, it’s my responsibility to ensure you make a proper choice."

You blinked, still processing. "Oh, uh… thanks?"

"Enough dilly-dallying," Riddle said briskly, taking your wrist with surprising firmness. "You're coming with me to the Equestrian Club."

"Wait, what—"

Before you could finish, Riddle had already begun marching you toward the stables. You were half-dragged, half-guided, catching snippets of his lecture along the way about the merits of horseback riding, discipline, and poise.

When you arrived, the warm scent of hay filled the air, and the sound of soft nickering greeted you. The stables were pristine, the horses sleek and well-groomed. Standing nearby were Silver and Sebek, both tending to the horses.

"Riddle, you found them" Silver greeted you with his usual calm demeanor. He gave you a faint smile as he gently brushed a dappled gray mare. "Perfect timing—we were just about to go for a ride."

Sebek, on the other hand, straightened like a soldier at attention, his voice booming. "THEY WILL JOIN US, OF COURSE! IT IS ONLY FITTING FOR AN INDIVIDUAL OF WORTH TO EMBRACE SUCH A NOBLE ART!"

"Sebek, indoor voice," Riddle said sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I AM OUTDOORS!" Sebek retorted, though he did lower his volume slightly.

You glanced nervously at the horses. "Uh, I don’t know if I’m… horse material."

"Nonsense," Riddle said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Riding teaches discipline, focus, and responsibility. It’s the perfect club for fostering growth—and for avoiding unnecessary distractions like some less dignified clubs."

"Pop Music Club?" you guessed.

Riddle sniffed, his expression sour. "Among others."

Silver walked over, still holding the brush, and gave you a reassuring nod. "Don’t worry. The horses are gentle, and we can teach you everything. It’s a peaceful activity once you get used to it."

"Peaceful!" Sebek exclaimed, throwing his arms wide. "It is a pursuit befitting the greatest warriors! EVEN LORD MALLEUS—"

"Sebek," Riddle interrupted, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Focus on the matter at hand."

"Apologies!" Sebek barked, saluting.

Riddle turned back to you, his expression softening just a fraction. "The Equestrian Club isn’t just about riding horses. It’s about elegance, partnership, and understanding. You could benefit greatly from it."

"And the horses are great listeners," Silver added.

"Unlike some humans," Sebek muttered under his breath.

You bit back a laugh as Riddle gave Sebek another glare.

"What do you say?" Riddle asked, stepping aside to let you see one of the horses—a chestnut with a kind, inquisitive gaze. "This is Vorpal. Perhaps a ride would convince you?"

The horse whinnied softly, and for a moment, you considered it. There was something appealing about the tranquility of the stables, the camaraderie of the club members, and the undeniable charm of working with such majestic creatures.

But then you remembered the drum chaos, the science experiments, and Vil’s dramatic vetting process.

"Let me, uh… think about it?" you said, taking a step back.

Riddle sighed, though he looked more exasperated than disappointed. "Very well. But don’t wait too long—indecision is unbecoming."

"Yeah," you mumbled. "Got it."

As you made your escape, you could hear Sebek booming, "RIDING A HORSE WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE!"

You weren’t sure about that, but you were certain that escaping club recruitment was starting to feel like an Olympic sport.

Magift Club

As you staggered away from the stables, thoroughly frazzled by Sebek’s enthusiastic yelling and Riddle’s intense lecture on discipline, you barely had time to catch your breath before—

“Yo, gotcha!”

A pair of hands grabbed your shoulders from behind, and you let out a very undignified yelp. You turned to find Ruggie grinning up at you like a mischievous hyena that had just found its next meal.

“Ruggie! What—?”

“No time for questions, boss,” he said, practically dragging you down the path. “Leona’s orders. He told me to bring ya to the Magift Club.”

“The Magift Club?” you repeated, already sensing disaster.

Ruggie nodded, smirking. “Yup. Let’s go, let’s go!”

“But—wait—I don’t even have magic!” you protested as he hauled you toward the field.

“Details, details,” Ruggie waved off, his grip on your arm firm.

Soon enough, you were dumped unceremoniously on the sidelines of the Magift field. Leona was lounging on the grass under the shade of a tree, looking entirely too comfortable for someone allegedly trying to recruit you. Epel was nearby, aggressively practicing his throws while muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “I’ll show ‘em.”

Leona cracked one eye open lazily as Ruggie dropped you off. “’Bout time,” he drawled.

“Leona,” you said flatly, “why would you want me in the Magift Club? I don't even have magic.”

He yawned, looking entirely unbothered. “Yeah, I know that. You’re still better than the other herbivores running around. You can be the manager.”

“Manager?”

“Yup,” Ruggie chimed in, plopping down next to Leona. “You’d handle all the boring stuff—paperwork, schedules, snacks, makin’ sure Epel doesn’t throw a fit when he gets tackled.”

“I don’t throw fits!” Epel yelled, narrowly missing a hoop with his throw.

Leona smirked. “Sure you don’t.”

You crossed your arms, unconvinced. “Why me, though? You’re telling me I’m the best candidate for this?”

Leona sat up slightly, his sharp eyes locking on yours. “I’m sayin’ you’re the least annoying option. I don’t need some herbivore manager who’s gonna cry every time I take a nap instead of practicing. You’re not useless, so quit whining.”

Ruggie leaned in conspiratorially. “Basically, you’re the only one Leona doesn’t feel like chasing off the field after two days.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a ringing endorsement.”

Leona shrugged. “Take it or leave it. Makes no difference to me.”

At that moment, Epel ran up, panting slightly from his practice. “C’mon, you should join us!” he urged. “You don’t need magic to be part of the team. And if you ever wanna learn some tricks, I can teach ya!”

Leona gave him a lazy side-eye. “Don’t scare them off.”

“I’m not scarin’ ‘em! I’m convincin’ ‘em!” Epel shot back, glaring at Leona before turning back to you. “Seriously, we could use someone like you. The club’s fun, I promise!”

Ruggie snickered. “Fun’s a stretch. It’s more like… survival of the fittest with a ball involved.”

“And napping,” Leona added with a smirk.

Epel crossed his arms. “Well, maybe if someone practiced instead of nappin’, we’d win more games!”

Leona waved him off with a scoff.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I don’t know, guys. This sounds like a lot of chaos.”

“Chaos is half the fun,” Ruggie said with a grin. “C’mon, boss, think of all the free food we get during games. And you’d get to boss Leona around as the manager. Ain’t that worth it?”

Leona snorted. “Good luck with that.”

You glanced at the trio—Epel brimming with determination, Ruggie radiating mischief, and Leona looking like he didn’t care but also somehow cared just enough to try. It was… weirdly tempting, in its own way.

“I’ll… think about it,” you said finally.

“Fair enough,” Leona said, already reclining again. “Don’t take too long, though. We’ve got a game next week, and I’m not filling out paperwork.”

Ruggie winked. “Don’t worry, you’ll come around. Everyone does.”

As you left the field, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just been almost recruited into something much more taxing than a simple club.

Mountain Lovers Club

Before you could escape the Magift field and all its potential paperwork, you took a sharp turn—only to smack right into what felt like a wall of polite menace. A soft, knowing chuckle sounded above you.

“Oh dear, do be careful,” came Jade Leech’s unmistakably smooth voice.

You took a step back, already dreading the conversation. “Jade,” you said warily, “what are you doing here?”

His sharp smile grew ever so slightly. “Waiting for you, of course. Word travels fast, and I’ve heard you’re in the market for a club.”

“Oh no,” you muttered. “You’re not here to—”

Before you could finish, he was already guiding you away, his hand light on your arm but unyielding, like a vice hidden under a silk glove.

“Come now,” he said, his tone as polite as ever, “I simply must show you the Mountain Lovers Club.”

“The what now?” you asked, bewildered.

“The Mountain Lovers Club,” he repeated, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“And… who else is in this club?”

“Why, just me.”

You stopped in your tracks. “It’s just you?”

“Yes.” Jade smiled serenely, as if this were not a glaring red flag. “I am the founder, leader, and sole member. But with your arrival, that could very well change.”

You blinked at him, unsure if you’d misheard. “Wait, so you’ve been running a one-person club this whole time?”

“Indeed.” His expression didn’t falter in the slightest. “The Mountain Lovers Club is dedicated to the appreciation of all things mountainous. Hiking through beautiful terrain, foraging for wild plants, observing unique ecosystems, and—on occasion—befriending the local fauna.”

“Befriending?”

“Examining, petting, observing closely…” His eyes gleamed. “Perhaps all three.”

You shook your head, trying to process. “So… why me?”

Jade clasped his hands together, the picture of poised enthusiasm. “You strike me as someone who appreciates unique experiences. The Mountain Lovers Club offers a chance to explore the great outdoors, expand your horizons, and develop a deeper appreciation for nature’s wonders.”

“And by ‘great outdoors,’ you mean mountains?”

“Precisely.”

“And it’s just you?”

“For now,” he said, his tone warm but his gaze uncomfortably intense. “But every great journey begins with a single step. Yours could be joining this club.”

You gave a nervous laugh. “Uh… I don’t think hiking through mountains is really my thing.”

“Ah, but how do you know unless you try?” Jade’s smile widened. “Besides, I’ll be there to guide you every step of the way. No need to worry about getting lost… or encountering anything unexpected.”

The way he said “unexpected” made you want to run for the hills (ironic, given the circumstances).

“Look, I appreciate the offer, but—”

“I insist,” he cut in smoothly, his tone polite but with a note of finality. “At least allow me to show you the club’s activities. Perhaps a short hike this weekend? I’ve already prepared a route.”

You stared at him. “You’ve already…?”

“Of course.” His gaze was calm, calculating. “Preparation is key. I’ve even packed a lunch.”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Jade, I—”

He tilted his head, his smile remaining perfectly composed. “Surely you wouldn’t refuse without at least giving it a chance? I’ve put so much thought into this.”

“Why do I feel like I don’t have a choice?” you muttered.

Jade’s smile was razor-sharp and utterly unrepentant. “Because you don’t.”

You sighed in defeat. “Fine. One hike.”

“Excellent,” he said, his tone soft and victorious. “I’ll see you this Saturday at dawn.”

“Dawn?!”

“Oh yes,” he said, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. “The mountains are at their most beautiful in the early morning light. You’ll love it.”

As he sauntered away, leaving you to process your fate, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just agreed to something far more treacherous than a simple hike.

Gargoyle Research Society

The moment you finally reached Ramshackle Dorm, exhausted from the whirlwind of club-hopping and increasingly bizarre sales pitches, you let out a long sigh of relief. The day had been nothing short of chaotic, and all you wanted was to collapse onto your creaky old bed and forget the words “club activities” ever existed.

But just as your hand touched the doorknob, a familiar voice, deep and regal, called out from the shadows.

“Child of man.”

You jumped slightly, spinning around to see none other than Malleus Draconia emerging from beneath the pale light of the moon, his presence as imposing and enigmatic as always. He stood by one of Ramshackle’s crumbling stone walls, his expression calm but his eyes bright with an unreadable intensity.

“Oh, Malleus,” you said, your voice tinged with weariness but also a touch of warmth. “Didn’t see you there.”

He tilted his head ever so slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “I was merely admiring the architecture of your dorm. It has a certain… wistful charm.”

You smiled faintly. “I guess that’s one way to put it.”

Then, with the sort of graceful confidence only Malleus could manage, he stepped closer, his presence looming but never threatening. “I have heard,” he began, his tone soft and deliberate, “that you have been seeking a club to join.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “How did you—”

“The winds carry whispers,” he said cryptically.

“Right,” you muttered, deciding not to question it.

Malleus folded his hands neatly in front of him, looking every bit the picture of regal sincerity. “If you have not yet made your decision… I would like to invite you to join my club.”

Your brain, still reeling from Jade’s mountain escapades and Leona’s managerial demands, stalled for a moment. “Your… club?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice brimming with quiet pride. “The Gargoyle Research Society.”

“The… what now?”

“The Gargoyle Research Society,” he repeated, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I am both its founder and sole member.”

Of course, he was.

Malleus seemed oblivious to your stunned silence as he continued, his expression softening into something almost earnest. “The society is dedicated to the appreciation and study of gargoyles. We explore the campus, observing their intricate designs and marveling at their history. There is so much beauty in their silent watch over us.”

You blinked. “So… you just walk around and look at gargoyles?”

“Precisely,” he said, his tone unironically enthusiastic.

“And… that’s it?”

Malleus nodded solemnly. “Indeed. It is a noble pursuit, one that nurtures both the mind and the spirit.”

For a moment, you were at a loss for words. Of all the clubs you’d encountered today, this might just take the crown for most niche.

Malleus, however, seemed utterly earnest. His eyes bore into yours, his expression sincere and unguarded. “I understand if this does not align with your current interests,” he said, his voice softening. “But should you ever feel the call of the gargoyles… know that you are always welcome.”

There was something so genuine in his tone, so quietly hopeful, that you felt a pang of guilt for even thinking about brushing him off. You sighed, offering him a tired but sincere smile. “You know what? I’ll definitely consider it.”

Malleus’s eyes lit up, his calm demeanor giving way to a flicker of pure joy. “Truly?”

“Truly,” you said, nodding.

“Then I shall look forward to the day you join me,” he said, his voice as soft as a promise.

With that, he gave you a small, graceful bow before disappearing back into the night, leaving you to wonder how you’d managed to end the day not only agreeing to a potential club but also feeling oddly flattered by the idea of studying gargoyles.

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “What a day…”

Masterlist

Part 2: Choosing a club

a/n: it completely slipped my mind that ortho is in film studies sorry :(

[anbaisai]

AU where Mostro Lounge launches it as an official sporting event, because Azul smelled the business opportunity (featuring @raven-at-the-writing-desk's Miss Raven with Jade)

(Continuation of the book 4 mystery)

Bonus of the nefarious opportunistic octopus:

[moonjellybeans]

This is what I imagine happened in Octavinelle when Floyd and Jade were sneaking out to go to Playful Land~

[feimaosalmon]

so i had a vision

[marigoldendragon]

Trying to finish the event before it's over, but I had to stop and draw this because JADE NO.

[pomefioredove]

can I request house wardens + leech twins with a reader who doesn't eat enough bc Crowley doesn't give them enough for food, and they end up really ill and collapsing or something. I'm cravin some fluffy comfort rn, pls and thank you 🙏

I got you🫡🫡 as someone who's been through an eerily similar situation, I really liked this request

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ another crowley moment™️

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, floyd, jade, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, mentions of food and not eating

Riddle wouldn't even have to like you to rush to your side. but he does like you, which makes it all the worse

after checking your vitals, you're in the infirmary. he's got doctors for parents, after all, and he knows that malnutrition is bad

he should have seen the signs...

with exams coming, he's been so busy, and he assumed that you were just tired from studying

but he can feel guilty later. right now, he needs to focus on you getting well again, and not killing Crowley

(then, of course, he'll look for some legal statute or clause that he can threaten Crowley with so you're fed properly)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona noticed you'd been acting a little weird lately, but watching you collapse still puts him in shock

luckily, Ruggie and Jack are nearby to help you to the infirmary, so Leona can focus on hunting Crowley down like an animal

there are very few times where Leona is particularly grateful for his status, but this is one of them. just one word on how his family will be hearing about Crowley's neglect, and the old bastard is begging him for forgiveness

even after that, Leona still sends Ruggie with snacks and drinks to Ramshackle

and if you ever scare him like that again, you'll regret it (lovingly)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

the news of you collapsing during flight lessons reaches Octavinelle rather fast. no one is particularly surprised, since Floyd had mentioned how easily you'd been bruising lately just the night before, but everyone is certainly worried

Azul is the first at your side, asking you all sorts of questions, worried sick. Jade has to remind him to give you space to rest, since you look exhausted (had you always had those dark circles? how could Azul have not noticed?)

now, Azul and the tweels could easily find a way to pressure Crowley, but they know better than to trust him

from now on, you'll be eating in the Mostro Lounge, free of charge

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

perhaps Kalim was just oblivious, because he really didn't think anything was wrong until you were suddenly on the floor in front of him

sure, you'd been a little moody lately, but he figured it was just a thing you were going through. and besides, you know that you can talk to him about anything... right?

Jamil hurries to check your pulse, and shouts for him to get the school nurse- which is jarring, because Jamil never shouts

when you explain everything to Kalim later, he feels... terrible. he should've known- no, he should've asked

Kalim insists you stay at Scarabia while you're recovering, and makes sure you have the most enriching, delicious meals money can buy

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil knew it was bad, but not this bad. if he had known you were on the verge of collapsing, he would've taken a firmer approach to getting you to eat

you're going to worry him to death someday, you know that?

after he's done verbally eviscerating Crowley, he'll insist on joining you at every meal. he'll eat at Ramshackle, breakfast, lunch, and dinner, if that's what it takes

he's subtle about it, at least

if he notices that your plate feels empty, he'll just take some food from his and put it on yours. gracefully, elegantly, without a word

you'll come home one day to see your kitchen stocked with vitamins, supplements, and apples (courtesy of Epel)

<3 and a note that says he'll treat you to dinner whenever you want

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

never scare Idia like that ever again. he wasn't even with you when you collapsed, and he STILL nearly had a heart attack

listen, he knows he's not a great role model when it comes to nutritional eating, but you have got to tell him these things. he would've had Ortho go get takeout! or something!

typical Crowley behavior, SMH. what does he think you are? a rabbit? even the school horses get treated better...

no way that Idia is going to even bother with that old fart, anyway. you want something? he'll get it for you. you don't even have to ask, he'll just send food to your place (and have Ortho check your vitals more often but shhh)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I would not want to be in the room when Malleus finds out about this

not even the building. you know what? I'd steer clear of the whole island, because it will not be pretty

when you collapse in front of him, it feels like he's dying, too. the panic sets in, and he sends Lilia to look after you, and Silver and Sebek to escort you to the infirmary, and then he casually threatens to smite Crowley. obviously

if the students and staff of NRC thought Malleus was scary just being Malleus, he's terrifying when he's mad

(rest assured that you will be getting ten times the amount of food from now on)

it's thunderstorms for days after, but he never leaves your side

[laiinsf]

Jade would love Hannibal (2013)

[mirisart]

Life is short - And Octavinelle wants you to appreciate it!

...That took a while. My sister sended me a video and said: Octavinelle. She is always such an inspiration! I just had to do it, but because I can only draw and not edit videos or something well...now listen to Azul and appreciate art!! Nah, don't worry. I had much fun and I hope you like it~

Under the cut is the original clip for you: