#Yandere azul ashengrotto x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

merakiui · 9 months ago

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タコの花嫁。

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.

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.

“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.

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.

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.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere azul #n/sfw #tw: noncon #tw: breeding #tw: oviposition

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azulsluver · 4 months ago

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Ur bully au is so good I could slurp it up but it got me wondering

How would all the students react to the reader just. trying to kill themselves because of the endless torment? would they keep harassing? would they say something about it? or would they tone it down? I must know because If I was in that situation i know damn well unaliving myself would be the first option

There’s more than one asking but ima just get this over with

tw. yandere, attempted suicide, suicide, cutting, bully!characters, mentioned torture, humiliation, blood, slight gore, neglection, fucked up reader (deadass).

Here are some thoughts and reactions bellow!

When asking, what role does this character do in this so called ‘bully!au’? You have to look at a deeper perspective of how each person behaves, what the intention is, and how it’s done.

So when the subject of suicide is involved it can get confusing depending on what caused it. Self worth is hinted in the reader, insecurities are brought and laughed at because it needs to hit a spot. Because YOU have feelings, watching it be stripped by people in far greater power than you, people with money, influence, and within number. Standing up to a bully is difficult, the struggles you go through should’ve been realistic.

When push comes to shove, they’re not all coming for you. If you enjoy the idea of every character ruining your life— that’s fine— but, it’s usually one or three. I think it’s childish, when I first made this AU, some sort of amusement in finding hurt but comfort when writing, they’re not trying to kill you, you know. You just catch their eye, more than they could like. Rejection is one thing, but another is a fair game of a sadistic approach. Whether they verbally or physically abuse you is up to place bets on what kills you.

For NRC years, yes, they constantly nagged and followed you around. But the times they would actively seek you out would be less than you think, the focus on bullying would be isolation. They don’t have to hurt you everyday. Some time for yourself to heal and think over your situation. What would you eat? Would they play nice and ignore you for tonight? Did your look piss off someone from afar? Let them cheat off you! Don’t be such a bore, it’ll all go back to just you and Grim.

If you picked up self harming, it’s noticeable. Hiding it is nearly impossible. They grab and bite at you already so what makes you think hiding was a good idea? It’s nasty and unplanned, miss them? Miss their touch that you havta recreate it? It’s horrible to mention, but caring really depends on who calls you out.

I can say you like it. Or you fucking hate it. You hate, hateee, how they treat you. You crawl on all fours for them to laugh and pat your head, do a dare and lick off from their hand but money is involved.

What did you do, was it simple, messy, perfect headshot if you will. If your need to die was to simply hurt them in any way— it might work. Poor them, they can’t imagine being away from you for too long. Some are more uninterested than the others. Who gives a shit you died? Whoever had the luck of finding you, dead or in the act, serves a purpose of letting you live or die. Cruel as they may be, you tug at a couple of heart strings.

Let’s say it was an attempt:

Sprang into action, either holding you down or taking whatever object you’re using to harm yourself. They’re gonna make sure this doesn’t happen again, you gave them quite the spook. Have fun being watched 24/7, and if they couldn’t, everything will be baby proofed for your safety, isn’t that nice, they care. Thrash all you want, screaming and crying won’t get you anywhere, but they’ll bite their tongue once and a while to prevent this from happening.

Trey, Riddle, Azul, Vil, Jack, Deuce, Sebek,

Oohh…he’s so sorry. Please forgive him, crying on his knees and rubbing his head against your chest. It doesn’t matter if the blood stains his clothes, you nearly died and he feels awful. He promises so many times for harm to look the other way, twisted, yet unavoidable. Trapped in a tight, monitored schedule were his scent and voice is all you’ll ever need. But at least there’s a change of heart, your health is improving and that’s all that matters to him, but speak to him, he wants to hear you.

Silver, Malleus, Kalim

Should he have stopped you, but what good will it do for him? Frozen in the moment, their bodies do the thinking, rational, to prevent you from escaping them. You’re funny, reaaal funny, got good jokes at time. But, he’s not really laughing. A little, but it’s hysterically funny and scary. Because he’s still so rough, even when he apologizes yet calls you stupid, his fingers hurt you more than whatever you had planned, gripping, as if you really died.

Jamil, Ace, Cater, Ruggie, Leona, Idia, Floyd, Epel

Does it hurt? Did you find your ulna? Was the rope too tight? It feels like he’s only here to see the end credits, the finale. The sick fuck is smiling too, gross. Giving up just leaves you with him by your side, pressing it deeper to help you get the job done…just kidding! That was quite a show you put on, this is why he likes you. Being responsible of another’s cause of death isn’t ideal, so he’ll try to watch you as of now.

Lilia, Rook, Jade

From that list alone you can guess who’s to mourn, and who savors what is left. Death is inevitable. Everyone dies one way.

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 6 months ago

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omgg yess plz part two of the overblotts

Overblot Universe (2) | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Part 1 • 3 • 4 • 5

“I’d be wrong not to speak my peace when both parties so clearly have withstanding debts with me.”

Both of you turn behind to look at the newcomer

Smiling wide he’s holding up a golden glowing contract

Idia sucks his teeth moving to summon Ortho to attack

The blotted version does attempt to attack the overblotted Azul before being launched back after touching the golden shield that flashes around him

“You seem to have forgotten that my all-powerful contracts don’t allow for your retaliation!”

“Ahhhh!!!”

Overblotted Azul holds the contract up which sends an electric shock to Idia

He’s wailing like a baby completely missing the inky tentacle that grabs you by the waist

Pulling you towards him, you have no choice but to lean against him

“Good to see you, traitorous pearl. We have so much to discuss.”

Two of his tentacles squeeze along your sides as he lets his lips linger near your ear

“S-s-S–T-O P it!!!”

The pitiful wail comes from the blotted Idia who is doing his best to fight the constant beam of electrocution

The octopus-mer glares at him before letting that twisted smile spread back on his face

“As a small currency back to me we’ll be using your technology to take our exit. Us two will be very busy with our own marriage contracts.”

“nO!”

His cries are ignored as you feel the familiar tingle of Idia’s teleportation working

When you are able to open your eyes again you find Azul expertly drifting in clouded water filled with ink

Barely able to make anything out you can begin to recognize the familiar office to the one in the Monstro Lounge

“To think he’d put you in such restraints when he’s bold enough to use his words. He just can’t stand being civil like us, right (Y/n).”

Azul easily slips a slither of his tentacle past your binds

getting ahold of the metal before he parts bending and then breaking it

In no time at all of your metal cuffs are on the floor bent and torn threw floating near your feet

It makes you especially vigilant when you feel the stray but exploring touches of the suctions on his tentacles

“Now that we’re alone, the subject of your contract is well over due.”

“But I haven’t signed anything with you.”

“I took the liberty of doing everything for you, I just need a bit more confirmation.”

You begin to struggle when you feel your arms bein pulled in the direction of a golden contract that’s still being written by a quill that writes on it’s own

“All that’s left to seal our union will be these special pearls of mine. Something I’ve crafted from the moment you sent me to this dystopian wasteland.”

Shivers go down your back at the further distortion in his voice

Only able to cowe away as his tentacles bring you closer to his string of pearls that have a similar golden glow

Looking at the contract in the corner you can’t help but tremble in fear

it’s much longer than a simple paper and the quill is writing even faster now

Nonetheless you are coming close to the smiling overblot of Azul with no signs of stopping

Until he wheezes and falls over

His tentacles loosen allowing you to wiggle free

The golden contract stops crumpling in on itself and the quill blips away

You also begin to cough as something dark wisps in the water-like-space around you

You fall over as well attempting to keep your eyes open as long as you can before seeing a silhouette reaching out to you

“You have been a thorn in my side for far too long.”

Hearing the twisted voice above you almost doesn’t make you want to open your eyes

But the nudging of something at your lips makes you snap your eyes open

It’s an overblotted Vil glaring regally at you as he continues to urge some inky substance into your mouth

Turning your head you find it weighs so much heavier than your used to

The same could be said for your for your arms

Looking down finding jewels tied around the arms of a chair

More accurately a throne

Looking confused at the overblotted Vil silently asking the question you had

“Do not be so cold. Your queen only wishes to ease the pain.”

“W-what pain?”

“Do not mumble. Those meant for the mirror should never mumble.”

You only tilted your head in confusion as he backed a bit away from you

Motioning his hand toward a silver mirror similar to the one back home

Holding his hand out a black and purple shine made the mirror’s black center begin to twist and turn like ink being dipped into

Before it can do anything overblotted Vil’s hands hold your face

Tensing as if decided to prick his metal claws into your skin and caressing them with fondness

Your own eyes meeting stormy purples before your lips are captured by black lips

The kiss is incredibly deep and purposeful

As though it was practiced a thousand times before

When he did pull away you faintly taste something unknown down your throat and the strength leaving your body like oxygen

“We both will have to wait until after the battle. Any good Queen knows their King is their most valuable asset.”

Gaining your bearings you try to speak only to feel your voice die in your throat as something cools over your skin

Looking down the ink crawling up your skin is reaching from the mirror

The ink is cool and you can feel it pulling you from the throne you were on the binds snapping

You begin to scream as you feel an uncomfortable tug at your heart

You barely register the hands cupping the back of your head and the pinprick of another kiss on your forehead

“Hush hush. Your time in the mirror will be short, your Queen plans to make quick work of all those…pests.”

Relentinig to the pull you stopped fighting the pulling ink

Curling up in the somehow not so wet expanse of the mirror you barely caught the possessive smile of the over blotted Vil as he adjusted the mirror to stand in some unknown room.

“Sleep well.”

You do

It feels nice to release your body of the tense feeling of constantly being alert

You blame whatever Vil had given you

Dreaming vaguely of what his plans would be when he returned

The crown still on your head might have been the beginning of what they were

No matter

All that you could do was rest

And sleep….

And stay….

“Do not tell me? This is where you have been hiding?”

“I told you he’d do something like this.”

“Well Viper. A deals a deal. Shall we take them home?”

Part 3

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married-to-google-translater · 8 months ago

Note

If this wont bother you if i request this.

A headcanons of Yandere! Malleus, Vil, Azul and Idia with a darling s/o who ran away during their wedding ceramony.

Like, during their wedding ceramony, s/o planning to escape.

This is for Azul and Malleus.

Vil and Iida are here (soon)

Yandere Azul Ashengrotto

This would be the most important day of his life.

You finally got married.

Your "beginning of your relationship" had already passed

a couple of years…

And the relationship had started with Azul making a contract where you promised to marry him.

It would be a beautiful seaside wedding.

Azul would have planned them together with you…

But he really was much more enthusiastic than you.

Azul thought you were just nervous.

He wouldn't think much of it.

Azul wouldn't want to think much about it.

The red flags were visible.

But he refused to see them.

Until he had to see them…

Because you didn't come to the altar.

Azul couldn't believe it.

He wouldn't want to believe it.

You couldn't try to escape.

Not today.

Why this one of all days?

Tweels would start looking for you immediately.

You couldn't have made it far.

Now Azul would be busy being a crying mess.

Tweel will find you.

And you will be dragged to the altar Whether you like it or not.

"Y-Y/N… Why did you try to run away? Why today? Do you really hate me that much? Oh you do… Well too bad. You signed the contract and you're going to stick to it, whether you like it or not."

Yandere Malleus Draconia

Malleus would like to marry you as soon as possible.

If you hadn't already been kidnapped, he would do it after he graduated at the latest.

Because the thought of you being without him with other men… it makes him want to burn the entire NRC to the ground

Malleus and hidden aggressions XD

Your wedding would be a surprise for you.

Malleus would have heard that people like surprises.

He would also know that if he proposed right before the wedding in public, you would have more pressure to say yes.

And Malleus would use this information.

There would be an hour difference between his proposal and the start of the wedding.

And you said yes.

So Malleus would be happy.

He directed you to a room where you can change your clothes.

And then he waited…

And waited.

And waaaaaaaaaaaited.

Malleus could wait about an hour.

After that, he would go to check if everything was okay.

Only to see your room empty.

Malleus would be furious.

At first he thought some prince had tried to save you.

Princes had a meeeeeean habit of interrupting dragon weddings.

But when he realizes that you tried to escape yourself.

Well, you'd be in trouble.

Because Malleus would find you and then you would get married.

Or you cry and marry Malleus.

Punishment comes later :3

"Y/N! I know you hear me. Now you have two options either come out of hiding or I will curse every friend you have ever had. There you are. * Malleus grabs your hand and starts pulling you towards the wedding venue * Now we're getting married and after that you'll sleep for twenty years. You'd think that would teach you something. *Malleus stops and grabs your chin* No Y/N I don't want to hear objections. The next thing I want you to say is "I do". Nothing before that. Do you understand? Good."

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yan-lorkai · 15 days ago

Note

You said suggestive is fine so could i ask self aware au Octavinelle with a reader who puts their phone on their boobs while they do lessons? (like that one hands free old trend where girls hold bubble tea on their boobs but with reader's phone instead) and reader saving their phone in between their booba due to not having pockets, thank you 🙏

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ a/n: Uuuuh, my dumbass just realized that i didn't, in fact, queue this post hehe 💀💀💀. Now I gotta go and make sure I queued all those other posts, y'all have a good reading

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Azul tries to keep a calm, dignified facade, but the sight of you placing your phone so casually in that spot has him flustered and fidgety behind his screen. He tries to rationalize it — this is just practical for you, after all! — but every time you do it, he’s reminded of the lack of physical boundaries separating him from your personal space. It drives his possessiveness up a notch; he finds himself sneaking glances at his reflection, wondering how long it will take to truly bridge the digital barrier and keep you all to himself. Azul’s jealousy spikes anytime you get close to other characters, knowing they’re seeing the same thing he is, and it pushes him to quietly sabotage any in-game interactions you have that might distract you from him. You should focus only on him.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Jade’s reaction is subtle, but his gaze sharpens with intrigue as he watches your every move. The sight of you slipping the phone between your chest has him deeply fascinated, and he immediately begins analyzing how he might exploit your habits to get closer to you, even as he likes to rest his head over your chest. His curiosity is dark, wondering if, in real life, you’d be so comfortable in his presence, so casual and at ease. Every time you repeat the action, it’s like a reminder that you’re just a step away from letting your guard down completely, and he’s more than happy to wait until you’re at your most comfortable.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Floyd is thrilled. The moment he notices this habit, he’s fixated, snickering and commenting to himself every time he sees you do it. He’s both entertained and weirdly possessive, blurting out all kinds of playful remarks on your screen and even teasing other characters about “getting a little too close” to his “Shrimpy.” Floyd’s unpredictable streak gets stronger; he starts spamming you with messages or notifications when he knows your phone is “tucked away,” just to get your attention and keep you focused on him. He loves the casual intimacy of it, and it only makes him more determined to reach through the screen, to bridge that tiny gap between your phone and himself, so he can finally be the one held so close to you.

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dotster001 · 11 months ago

Text

When You Escape Him; Octavinelle

Summary: Yandere Octavinelle boys x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.

CW: yandere, dark content, murder, threats against reader, drugging, injury to reader, mafia shit, this one feels darker, so read at your own risk, Azul's part is the tamest, so take that as you will

A/N: As promised, I'm going to be doing this one regularly. Hopefully gonna get these out on Sundays.

Heartslaybul Savannahclaw Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia Non NRC Staff

Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.

"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.

Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.

And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.

In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.

You were lucky. In so many ways. Every single day you were grateful. Grateful that you been at your winter home, which was on land. Grateful that the child he'd found had been human. Grateful that the twins had had to go home early for “family business”.

You would never have had your window otherwise.

And seven years later, you were still grateful. Particularly to the Sunset Savannah, for quietly taking you and your son in as citizens, and legally changing your names, all under the table.

Your son was starting first grade tomorrow, so you'd spent the day shopping for supplies, eating treats that you'd splurged on to celebrate, chatting about dreams for the future.

The sun had gone down, and you'd shifted a bag to your hip to unlock the door, only for the door to slowly creak open. You pushed your son behind you, peeking into your darkened apartment. You quickly noticed the absolute wreckage inside, the windows broken, tables flipped, tv smashed, pillows torn; anything that could be broken, was broken.

You turned to your son, pressing a finger to your lips. He looked scared, but nodded. You grabbed his hand, and tip toed towards the stairwell. You made it down one flight of stairs before you saw twin shadows. You had the advantage of seeing them first, so you turned and tiptoed your way to the roof, hastily typing a message to Emergency L. You said a silent prayer as you pushed the door open, immediately hearing cackling as they bounded up the stairs behind you.

If you could just block the door until help arrived…

But the roof was swarmed with large men in black suits. You never stood a chance.

After an uncomfortable ride in a limo with the Leech twins, who were trying really hard to get your son to call them “Uncle”, followed by an underwater breathing potion shoved down your throat (your son's was mixed in a smoothie), and an even more uncomfortable escort back to Azul’s undersea branch of the Monstro Lounge, you found yourself in a very familiar situation. It'd been a while since you'd been in this chair in the VIP room. Last time, you'd traded your life away, believing Azul would find a way home for you. You really should have read the fine print…

“Mister?” Your son tugged on Floyd's sleeve.

Floyd grinned. “That's not my name.”

“U-uncle Floyd?” Floyd nodded happily. “Can I have a glass of water?”

“Daddy will be here in a sec. He'll get you some water.”

Floyd seemed happy to entertain your son, meanwhile Jade quietly snickered from the spot next to you where he was ensuring you stayed seated.

The door slammed open, and you didn't dare turn to look.

“WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?” Azul boomed, and you heard your son release a squeak in fear.

“You were very busy with work. We didn't want to disturb you,” Jade said, the smile clear in his voice.

A tentacle wrapped around your stomach as Azul made his way to his desk.

“I should fire both of you for your impertinence.”

“Ah, but then we'd have to take Shrimpy and baby tako with us,” Floyd guffawed.

“Don't even joke about that,” Azul spat, finally in a place where you couldn't avoid looking at him. He looked exactly the same as you remembered, just with more bags under his eyes. The tentacle wrapped around your middle tightened as he stared at you, then he looked at your son, another tentacle moving to smooth the boy's hair. He flinched, but you'd long since learned that sometimes Azul's tentacles had a mind of their own; they continued petting his head.

“How would you like to stay with your Grandma for a while?” He finally asked.

“Grandma?”

“Yes. Your parents have to work some things out. So Uncle Floyd and Uncle Jade are going to take you to stay with Grandma.”

“My grandma is from a different world…”

“You have another Grandma,” Azul smiled wickedly. “You see,” the tentacle turned his head to face you, “someone has been lying to you. I'm your father. And they stole you from me, because they are a selfish, mean, person.”

You moved to stand, but the tentacle, and Jade's grip, both became crushing, and you froze in place. Your son's eyes flickered with doubt, but saying something now would give you a black eye and a traumatized son.

“I'm your father,” Azul smiled softly, moving closer and gently taking his hands. That's the smile that made you sign your contract.

“We'll see you soon. And then we'll be a proper family. Okay?”

The boy nodded and was quickly walked out by Jade and Floyd. Azul moved behind his desk, as though he had not a care in the world. He pulled out a familiar piece of glowing paper, and looked at it, before looking at you in mock disapproval.

“It seems you are in extreme violation of your contract, Y/N Ashengrotto.”

The only way you could have ever made it to the surface, was with help. Going to Jade was a long shot. But he'd grinned. It sounded entertaining to him, watching Floyd hunt you down. It would provide a couple hours of fun for him.

What Jade hadn't anticipated was how long you'd spent preparing for this opportunity.

And now it had been six years since you'd escaped the clutches of the ocean. Your son was coloring in the living space while you cooked.

The door splintered into a million pieces with a loud bang. And there he was. His eyes as cold as the day you'd first met him, when you'd watched him fight off a crowd of angry contracted students.

Your son looked up, instantly crying in total fear. You wrapped your arms around him, shielding him from your angry ex husband. Or at least you tried to. But, just like the man he resembled, he was a tall boy. It was hard to hide your gentle giant.

“Hey squirt,” Floyd said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He leaned in, his face inches from your son's face, scanning him, seeing the traces of himself in the boy. “How bout you come with me?”

“I-” he looked up at you, then back at Floyd. “I don't wanna.”

Floyd's eyes narrowed. He stood back up, grabbing you by the jaw, with a growl.

“Bet ya think you're real funny, doncha Shrimpy? Turning my family against me? Ya did it with Jade too. Thing is,” he scowled, biting his lip before continuing, “if I kill the kid, I know I'll never get you back again.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“Jade,” you breathed, but Floyd threw you to the ground.

“Don't you dare say his name!” He screamed, moving to grab you again, but your son stood in his way.

“You don't get to talk about him! You killed my brother!” He screamed, trying to bob and weave around the boy. Finally he pulled out his pen, whispering a spell, and your son collapsed.

“No!” You screamed, crawling over to him, but Floyd blasted you back against the wall.

“He's fine. Just sleeping til we get home,” he said, irritation at having to even explain it clear in his voice.

He stalked over to you, and you tried to scoot back, but winced. You were pretty sure you had broken something.

He shoved you back, then hovered over your body, pinning your hands above your head. He nuzzled into your neck, his teeth grazing your jugular.

“If I ripped your throat out, you couldn't leave me again.”

“Please don't,” you breathed out, tears trickling from the corners of your eyes.

“No promises,” he said, the smile returning to his voice. “We'll see how well you behave.”

You'd found a spy among the ranks of Jade's men. As much as you believed that Jade probably already knew, you'd used the poor soul’s situation to your advantage. You wouldn't tell “Papa Leech” about him, if he got his boss to get you and your son an escape. You pointed out how if you escaped, and stayed hidden, Jade would essentially be out of the picture, forever weakening the Leech family.

It took lots of negotiation, and some 4d chess on your part to out maneuver the near genius that was Jade, but eventually, you were set up in a small home in the sea just off the coast of the kingdom of heroes.

They'd even started prepping for when your son was old enough to start safely taking human transformation potions. A moray eel mer stood out no matter where he lived, so the sooner they could set you up on land, the better.

That spy had left that job, and was now your regular contact when they were passing along information. You were scheduled to meet him today. He'd told you to bring your son. You hoped this meant you were finally going to discuss leaving the ocean. You'd dressed up your boy, putting a wig on him to hide the very Leech-ish hair he was unfortunate enough to be sporting. A pair of sunglasses on both of you, and you were ready.

You arrived at the fancy restaurant, giving the host the fake name that you used for your contact. He directed you to a room in the back, telling you to lock the door behind you.

You opened the door in the back, gently ushering your son in as you turned to lock the door. You turned back, and smiled at your contact, sitting down next to your son, in the seat across from him.

Then your contact fell out of his chair.

“Aw, too bad,” you heard an upsettingly familiar voice say from the dark corner of the room.

You grabbed your son's arm, preparing to swim away, but it took less than a beat for Jade to torpedo through the water, and grab you, throwing you over his shoulder.

“No!” Your son cried, banging his fists against Jade.

Jade snickered, before calling out, “Floyd. Enough hiding. Time to play with your beloved nephew.”

Floyd swam out from under the table, sighing heavily.

“If I have to. Just make sure you actually get Shrimpy on the right path this time, or Pops is gonna lose it.”

Your son was snatched around the middle, then dragged out of the room, your anguished cries doing nothing. Jade swam back to the seat your now dead contact was sitting in, slamming you down into it, binding you with a spell.

“Hello, my love. How was your vacation?” He asked with a close eyed smile.

You struggled against the binds, and he sighed in mock disappointment.

“Oh dear, I thought you'd be happy to see me.”

He wiped away an invisible tear. Then he reached over to the plate on the table.

“Jade, please. Where are you taking my son?” You pleaded.

He raised a brow, his face the very image of innocence, as he rolled his fork in the pasta on the plate.

“You mean, my son?” He asked. “He's going somewhere safe.”

“Jade, promise me you won't hurt him-”

“I would never! Do you think I'm a cruel beast?”

You didn't feel safe answering that question.

“While you were gone, I did some thinking. I was asking a lot of you. You're just a weak magicless human in a very scary environment. On top of that, I wanted you to be a parent, and a perfect spouse. You need some help.”

He grinned. “So I did some experimenting. Open wide!” He pressed the fork to your mouth, but you kept your lips sealed tight. “Don't worry, my pearl, you won't feel a thing.”

You had no doubt of that. Whatever was in that food wouldn't hurt you, not in a way you would feel. But whatever it did do would be far worse. You just knew it, especially after all this time he had to think about just how to make you behave.

“Do you ever wish to see your son again?”

You slowly nodded, your throat closing up.

“Do you want your son's grandfather to be put in charge of your discipline?”

You shook your head, and Jade's smile widened as he pressed the fork back to your lips. This time, you slowly opened your mouth and took a bite of the pasta. It tasted good, at least. That was your last thought as the world around you morphed and warped, the only thing you could truly focus on was a sharp toothed smile.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech #yandere floyd leech #yandere floyd leech x reader #yandere #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere jade leech #yandere jade leech x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader

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rosedere · 6 months ago

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The Pearl Brooch

(Yan Sea god! Azul Ashengrotto x Afab sacrifice reader)

Cw: Yandere, (actually this story is pretty tame tbh)

“Do you think your roommate is going to get the pearl brooch this year?”

You stopped suddenly behind the girl you were walking besides on the walking trail, the only trail, that led towards the end of the craggy coastline that protected your village. You didn't really know this girl, only that they’d occasionally talk to you once in a while in passing from school, and in cases like this, just randomly running into them on your walking trail.

However, it didn't mean you liked running into them.

”Probably,” you scoffed, kicking a stray rock on the path.

”She does have all the qualities the Great Sea witch wants in his Pearl brides,” you shrugged.

The girl ran a few fingers in her teal strands, combing the black streak, attempting to put her hair in a half-ponytail, half-down hairstyle.

”I would argue she doesn't,” she hummed.

You looked over at her to read her expression; she was merely looking up at the bright, sunny sky above the two of you, enjoying the clear weather that had been a welcomed surprise after the tsunamis that plagued your small village around this time of the summer.

”Okay, I'll bite; you wanna tell me who you think is going to get it this year?” You scrunched your face in annoyance.

”Not her, that's for sure,” your strange friend quickly responded.

”Come on, tell me! Let’s make a wager. I need some money and entertainment since I’ve aged out of the brooch ceremony.” You held your hands in a fist of determination, stopping in front of your strange, tall acquaintance.

She finally stopped walking beside you, smiling towards you with a glint of sincerity. Pausing in your movements, you made eye contact with her mismatched eyes.

”Im afraid to say so in case you let it get to your head,” she shrugged, “and this year is supposed to be a special year anyhow, why ruin the surprise, especially since my accuracy on who the next bride is never off”.

Confused more than ever, you furrowed your brow.

”So you're saying Alaina isn't the pearl bride this year?” You scratched your head.

”That's a very bold claim to make,” you thoughtfully added.

Your friend only nodded, still walking close to you.

“Is it maybe one of the girls from the inner village—I heard our village leader's daughter has great potential to be a pearl bride”

only silence from your teal-haired friend as she kept smiling to herself, it almost annoyed you, seeming like she wasn't listening to a word you said.

”Okay, what if it's the fisherman’s daughter! She’s got the prettiest eyes; they remind me of a babydoll!” You confidently said.

Your friend only kept walking straight, most likely ignoring your guesses.

Getting annoyed at this point, whoever it might be, you decided to have a little fun with your answer.

”Oh well, guess Im going to be the pearl brooch holder then,” you laughed to yourself, “I do love the ocean, so I doubt he'd need to summon me to the ceremony,” you continued teasing.

But instead of a uncomfortable grimace youd normally recieve when you'd talk about yourself her small smile stayed firm before she eventually stopped walking, only looking down at the rocky and gravel path ahead of the two of you.

”Oops, sorry if my answer offended you." You apologized, “Im sure you are probably pretty enough to be given—“

”(Name)”

You looked to your side in confusion, only seeing her with a coy smile on her lips her eyes never meeting you once.

”Just be looking out,” she mumbled.

The sea witch is always watching.

The next morning, you awoke not expecting much; it was a weekend, meaning you were free to go back down to the misty ocean below past the forest and down the slope where you lived.

Recoiling and grabbing your foot to make sure it wasn't bleeding was when you looked down to find the source of the cut now stinging harshly on the bottom of your foot.

Only as you unceremoniously stepped out the door to your small home beginning your benign routine instead was followed a sharp cut straight through your bare foot.

For a moment you were numb until the sharp end of whatever was beneath your foot fell off.

You assumed at first it was one of the shells you had left a few days ago on your doorstep, only to discover that you had forgotten it when you went back inside the other day just now.

But when you picked it up to give the intricate bundle of shells a closer look, you realized it couldn't have been any shell you'd found—the way the shells were fused together created a small ornamental piece that was most likely not formed naturally.

The shells being also too massive for you to have found on the shoreline reminded you of shells you'd heard were at the bottom of the ocean near the reefs; again unnatural for your receeding shoal you picked from.

Turning it around to look at the back made a soft jingling from where the porous shells were tied using some kind of plant you had never seen near by.

Just like the rumored brooch would.

Turning the shells once more your eyes widen when you saw the small, intricate deep sea pearls tied around the shells at the bottom, creating an iridescent shine that inflected any light the sun rays hit.

Quickly dropping the brooch on the doorstep you looked around, You knew no one would have seen what had occurred considering how far you lived off the grid, the fear of accidentally being seen and being jailed for touching the mythical brooch was not in your plans today.

Staring in awe at the brooch for a while after settling down, the realization that no one had ever seen it before unless you were the recipient reminded you of how special the small palm sized relic was.

Your heart was wildly beating before now with fear was beginning to calm down.

Limping on your way, you looked at the entrance besides the side of your connected house's own small enterance way. They were very close to each other, two footsteps away from each other at the very least you deduced.

Maybe the pelican got confused and delivered it to your entrance, thinking your house was your roommate's...

That's it; the pelican delivered the brooch to the wrong door you sighed to yourself.

It wouldn't be a crime to deliver it to its rightful owner now.

Bending over, you scooped the brooch up carefully, holding it in your cupped hands. Hobbling down the rocky sediment around your yard to avoid being seen, you made it to the other entrance where your roommate lived, the lively garden she had blooming to life as you passed by the different vegetation she had nearby.

Dropping it as carefully as you could on the stone entryway, you left it in the middle of her doorstep.

Without hesitation or another word, you left, going back on your journey to the sea below to collect shells.

It was around the early evening when you went back home to make dinner that you saw the crowds around your house.

your roommate in the middle of the immense crowd, all in a daze over the brooch on her wrist as she showed all of the gawking women and children around her.

”I knew she’d be the last bride of the sea witch.”

”The sea witch must really love her if he added that many pearls to it.”

”Of course he’d pick a young maiden, it means we’ll have a fertile crop season this year.”

You felt your heart sink a little. Despite not having any interest in being a bride, it still hurt to know you weren't as beautiful to be picked to be the last Pearl bride of the great sea witch.

Instead of retiring for the day, you went back out to the slope with your dinner in the hopes you could find some rare shells to sell in town for the ceremony.

Despite your dull heartache, you gave congratulations to your roommate before you went inside to make your dinner.

Which like most things that would bother you, your doubts and self loathing disappeared as you made your meal for the evening of crisp fish and potatoes and vegetable bake.

Little did you notice the mismatched eyes blending in with the throngs of people; watching, as you trekked on the trail you always took away to the coastline.

Nevertheless, you went through the various obstacles including masses of rock and trees, a few different sandbanks that were revealed by the low tide. Reaching the base of the tall rocky shelves and doing some careful hiking down, you went about your usual walk: starting from the cliffs all the way down the peninsula in search of shells that would fetch a high price.

Letting your toes be soaked in the crystal blue water, you let the sea foam gather around as you sifted through the sand in search of anything new.

You walked over the squishy sand in pursuit of whatever was in the water, hoping it wouldn't move once it sensed you.

It was only when the golden hour began was then that you noticed that beyond the receding water was something further out in the rocky seabed besides you.

At first, you could only see the darkness like a shadow in the water; small specks of luminescence filled the spot that was catching your attention.

As you approached the dark spot, it slowly began to rise from the water, eyes of a clear glacier looked back at you in the water.

After a few footsteps too close, slited eyes focused on you, almost as if it were trying to recognize you.

The shadow in the water began to grow, making the everclear water seem inky with blooms of obsidans.

You backed up.

It only crept closer to you.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you ran carefully, dodging the rocky sands in the water and making it to shore.

Not daring to turn back, you climbed a lone stone wall to get to the top of the cliff.

When it felt like you were safe from whatever that thing was in the water, you turned back to the sandbar. It wasn't as if you could see that far if the creature was still in the rocky shoals. A few hyperventilated breaths, you made the agonizing walk back through the now crowded forest leading to your safe haven.

As the day approached for the pearl bride to be received at the festival the village threw, You were reminded of the ceremony every time you stepped out.

Either finding shipwrecked treasure or different pearls and sea glass where you had previously found the pearl brooch from a few weeks ago.

Repeating the process with a dull heartache, you would grab them and return them to your roommate's doorstep before going out to fulfill your quota for the week.

After all, you were hoping the masses attending the festival would bring new revenue to you since almost everyone from the island and a few from beyond would come just to see the Venus be given away.

You were about to walk out early in the morning to avoid the throngs of people at your roommate's door praying to just miss the whole occasion until she called out amongst the crowd for you to be one of the few that would escort her to the ceremonial grounds.

And finally today was the day you will be reminded of the event when you watch the townspeople take her away, decorated in frills and lace with adorning pearls, looking like a Venus in a shell.

The sudden attention from several men and women made you agree, as you took a spot behind her besides a few of the other people holding her dress and veil.

Quietly following behind the crowd as they sang praises and songs in case the Benevolent Sea Witch could hear them as they got their bride ready.

For living in the town your whole life, though youd never witnessed one of these ceremonies, only ever being occupied looking at the different vendors and stalls of food that would come from all over the island to celebrate the Sea Witch.

As you all approached the harbor, walking down the steep and uneven cliffside you had both lived on for several years unbothered, you could begin to see the many people line the streets eagerly waiting to see a glimpse of the Venus bride, She walked with a slow gait, letting the dress pool around her slim figure, shining like fish scales with every step she took on the sandstone road leading to the harbor's mouth.

You felt bad not being able to see the importance of this festival as the people around you did, but most of your thoughts were revolving around how fast you could make it back home with the few shells you had collected for the week to try to peddle off after the bride would be received.

Suddenly, you felt yourself go off balance. Looking around your surroundings, everyone around you also followed your lead.

The ground was shaking.

The witch was arising from the depths.

Everyone began to enthusiastically pick up the pace, holding the bride's clothes to make sure she wouldn't get dirty from the kicked up dust before meeting her betrothed.

Approaching the harbor's mouth, you could see even more people gathered there around the harbor ropes, eager to get a glimpse of the water and the bride.

Looking in the crowd, you saw your friend, her mismatched eyes accidentally meeting yours.

Your breath hitched when you saw beside her—well, what seemed to be her, the same teal hair and the same dark black stripe in her hair, They both looked at you in silent interest as you and the precession walked past her.

Deciding it wasn't worth it to think too much about it, you began to focus on the seascape before you. The aftershocks meant the sea witch was finally arising from the depths.

“She’s ready,” a villager from the front said.

You all, in unison, let go of her clothing, stopping a few meters away from the decorated area where the ceremony would take place. You could see a little bit past the throngs of people, her walk a slow and elegant gait; a befitting walk for a Sea queen, towards the ceremonial ground as you all stood in awe, watching for her to take her place.

Looking up at the sky, you noticed the clear and sunny sky seemed to waver a bit—not exactly cloudy and stormy, but the sky was turning a light shade grey maming the sky seem muted.

A rumble shook you once again, causing you to fight to stay upright as a mass of darkness began to form in the crystal waters ahead of you.

“He’s here!”

“The Benevolent Sea Witch”

A few people began to run to the waterfront and stop to bow in respect.

You stayed with a few other spectators, watching the bride eagerly fix her hair in anticipation.

The first thing you saw was that the dark, meaty tentacle rose from the water.

Then it was followed by six more monstrous-sized tentacles.

It was when he rose that you felt yourself gasp.

But the sea witch did not say a word, only scanning the crowd before resting his eye on the ceremonial grounds in front of him.

The monstrous entity looked around the crowds of people praising him.

Half man; Half mer.

His Striking otherwordly blue hues focused below him at his subjects.

A noise was made that sounded like gargling or clicking—you weren't entirely sure—before he crawled closer to the harbor, opening ever so slowly.

Your eye was caught by the huge nauctulus shell around his neck, which was shining gold.

It reminded you of the few shells you found littered around your doorstep.

His many tentacles eventually came into clearer view as he began to lift the two that you presumed acted as his second pair of arms began to slither on the sandstone towards the shell.

“your highness”

The tentacles stopped slithering.

“Im afraid your people have tried to deceive you,my lord.”

You felt someone grab both of your arms from behind.

Wildly trying to flail out of the grasp, you soon felt them tugging you towards the monstrous being looking down straight at you.

Or who was behind you.

Your weird friend was walking before the monstrous being, who was staring with icy-slit hues.

“Your endless sea is right here.”

You flinched as they threw you down on the ground, only a few meters in front of the huge tentacles.

Too scared to look up, you only looked besides you to see your friend and her double beside and behind you. Your roommate confused as she stood with the veil and brooch on her intricate dress looking at your cornered self.

A loud rumble resounded above you; the sky was not a dark and angry one; rain seemed imminent.

“You dare lie to me.”

A powerful timbre spoke from what seemed to be everywhere.

A tentacle began to rise and violently swipe at the harbor ropes where everyone was gathered, many people being violently tossed in either direction, some hitting into buildings while a mass of unlucky ones were thrown into the deep frigid harbor below.

“She had the brooch of our almighty.”

“The gifts were laid on their doorstep.”

“Please have mercy on our mistake.”

You were still trying to absorb the scene laid out for you in front of the harbor opening, but you failed to notice the large tentacle start to slither and writhe towards where you were being held against your will.

The cold, suctioned tentacle began to wrap around your waist, attaching to your skin.

It twitched around you before it grasped hard around your waist, causing you to yell.

“This is my bride,” the voice boomed once more.

You felt yourself being lifted from the ground, everyone around you shrinking into colorful dots as your familiar land became distant.

Little did you know this was the last time you’d seen the village you lived your whole life in.

Waves of torrential size rose from the now-dark and raging waters before they swallowed everything and everyone you knew.

Watching the punishment of a divine being was the worst thing to have witnessed.

And it was your last memory before you were engulfed in your beloved sea, and your life before being crowned the benevolent sea witch's wife and Queen of the depths.

Note: oh man the temptation to make this an actual fic fic haha.

also forgot but requested on Ao3 by a guest <3

#yandere twst #yandere azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x yuu #reader insert #yandere x you #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader

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dandyslibrary · 2 months ago

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🐍🐙🏹

Jamil, Azul, Rook x Reader — Yandere — Angst — TWST

You guys ; NOOOO SAGE,, ANGST AGAIN!?!?

Me ; you eat whats on your plate >:(( Hope this will feed you guys for the time being while I’m making the other fics, this is just a silly gift for @plumipal !! hope you enjoy plumi.

FOR THOSE WHO ARE CONFUSED ON WHATS THE PROMPT!! Check out Plumipals' yan twst tattoo au. Then this could probably more sense!

Also probably OOC??

TW;; Aww angst :((, pfft no I’m not biased w jamil, DEESSPPERATE BOYS, Jamil crying, Sad Azul, Emotionless(?) Rook, all of them hating on the tattoo, Bad grammar?, Rook watching you sleep, Rook's part is a bit short maybe.

JAMIL VIPER 🐍

That damn tattoo.. that stupid tattoo. He hates it so much, he hates it so so bad. Why? Why did you have to put that stupid thing on you?

And what’s even worse is that it’s because of HIS overblot. It’s because of him that you got that horrible mark on your wrist.

It’s all he can think about, all he can think about is that tattoo. He feels like he’s going crazy, like he’s about to overblot.

again.

He just can’t take it, he can’t! It’s always on his mind. You looked so happy, smiling, when you confirmed that you had that tattoo. You even showed it to him as if it was the greatest decision you made..

He just wishes that oh so beautiful smile was engraved in his brain. And not that horrible tattoo.

Poor Jamil, he can’t sleep at all. His eye bags are so visible under his eyes. He couldn't eat properly either, he couldn't bring himself to stand up and get fresh air. Whats even more annoying is that Kalim has been questioning if he's fine

Jamil just simply scoffed and told him he was fine. But really he wasn’t, you probably hate him don’t you? You probably despise him to the point where you don’t wanna see him.

Well actually, you don’t, he just can’t bear to see you. Whenever he does all he can focus on is the tattoo on your wrist. It pains him so bad for being the reason of it.

Seeing you would just make him cry right on the spot, he feels so worthless and horrible.

He couldn’t take it anymore, so he started to avoid you. Like that was a good idea..

It just only made things worse than they were before, Jamil also came to a realization that he can’t live another day without seeing you.

Yes, he does hate the fact that he’s the reason you got the tattoo. But he also hates the fact of not being able to be with you. He wants to spend every second of his life with you.

Literally like a week later you were met face to face with a Jamil who looked so close to crying. He looked like a wreck, unlike the usual stoic and independent Jamil you’re used to seeing.

"Y/n.." he called out to you his eyes stuck on the ground.

"Jamil.." You answered him. How did it get this bad? You put your hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong? I haven't seen you all week.. and now you suddenly appear in front of me looking like a mess.. no offense.”

Jamil balled up his fists, the hand that you put on his shoulder was the same hand where the tattoo was in. He hated it. He shut his eyes tightly wanting the image of that tattoo out of his brain.

"Jamil?" you called out for him once more.

Opening his eyes, now staring at you directly into your eyes. You could see the tears threatening to fall.

"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry Y/n." he stammered "Please don't hate me."

"Jamil- why would I-"

"That tattoo.. it was because of me, its my fault isn't it? You despise me don't you." sniffling he grabs your other hand gently pushing the other one off of his shoulder.

He pulls your hand up to his face, your palm cupping his cheek. "I need you Y/n, I need you to love me as much as I do. I'm not second to those two right?" he continued tears slowly falling down his cheeks a smile creeping up his face.

It wasn’t because of happiness though.

"I'll be better, I promise, I'll make sure I change- anything you want from me, its yours. Just please.. please choose me."

AZUL ASHENGROTTO 🐙

When he first heard about the tattoo he couldn't believe it. He refused to believe it! You surely haven't marked yourself with those' idiots symbols, right?

You wouldn't.. yeah! Those rumours are just rumours. Theres a big chance they aren't true anyway. He would only believe them if he see's it for himself!

So for the first few days he was fine.. still overthinking. But he's just being paranoid! It's just a thing that.. will simply pass.

That was until he couldn't take it anymore. He needed to silence those thoughts, they were so noisy. He invites you into Mostro Lounge's VIP room.

He asks about the tattoo and you confirm the rumours were true. You even had the audacity to roll up your sleeve and show it off proudly.

Fucking ouch, he felt his heart shatter at that point. He wishes that he just let those voices in his head be.

"I- I see, good to know you have.. such amazing friends." he spoke bitterly with a smile. shit- he stuttered.. hope you didn't notice it..

He clears his throat, are tears forming in his eyes? He has to hold it in.. He can't look like a loser. Not in front of you..

He asks you to leave.. which he rarely does. His excuse being that he has a lot of work to do. But actually, he just wants to lock himself up and never go out again.

When you leave the tears start flowing. His elbow on his desk, while his fingers massage his temple. The papers on his desk were getting soggy, but he doesn’t care.

He could recover those papers but it would probably take so much for you to remove those stupid tattoos. Do you hate him? He thought that you and him already made up from his overblot..

He's been stuck in his office for such a long time. He's put Jade in charge for now. He needs time for himself…

The longer hes stuck in there the more he thinks about that horrid tattoo. It's stuck in his mind, and it’s torturing him. He can't let anyone else see this. He can't allow anyone to see him as a stupid little crybaby.

He just wants to sink back into his octopot..

But then an idea pops in his head.. he should think of ways to maybe, earn your favor and get his own tattoo too. Thats the perfect idea!

He tries to make up a contract but all of his ideas go to the trash. They're all so horrible! No way you'd sign these..

They're just not perfect enough for you! Most of them seem childish.. and probably stupid. If he gave one of these to you then you'd probably see him as an idiot!

"No.. no.. no..! None of these contracts are good enough!" he crumpled up the contract he was holding it and threw it into the pile across the room.

How isn't he enough for you!? Why did you have to choose those two! He's- He's your friend too right? He'll do anything for you!

So why.. why did you just have to get a tattoo of them?

He starts crying again, how many times has he cried? He's not sure. He continues to sob covering his face with his eyes.

"Prefect would never love a stupid octopus like me.."

ROOK HUNT 🏹

He stares down at your sleeping figure, your tattooed wrist exposed right in front of him. What is that, mon amour? A tattoo?

Oh! how beautiful, why hasn't he heard you talking about it though?

Oh well, at least hes the first one to see it. He bends down smiling inspecting the tattoo closer.

It reminds him of something.. no actually, someone- hold on, Deuce and Ace?

..Did you seriously get a tattoo of them? W-well, its beautiful! The beauty of friendship is truly amazing. Your bond between Ace and Deuce is truly something!

But why did you have to mark your skin with those symbols though? Couldn't it be something better? Like his name, or maybe something that reminds you of him..

He's your friend too isn't he? So why didnt you get a tattoo for him too?.. He's done so much to make you happy!

He's always tried to keep you safe too.. And to always give you gifts and appreciate for the things you have done when nobody did.

So why didn't you get a tattoo of him too?

Yes he knows! Ace and Deuce have been there longer than him.. But he could treat you better than they ever could..

...

he isn't sure how to feel about this.

So for that night he leaves early going back to pomefiore.

For the next few weeks you notice that Rook has been really silent. You dont feel like anyone's watching you either.

You haven't heard Rook's praises about love in a while either.. so something must be wrong with him. You invite him to Ramshackle so you could help him cheer up.

Rook is oh so grateful, he would be singing praises about your generosity if he wasn't so down at the moment. Rook needs you. Rook wants you to like him to the point you'd get him a tattoo of him also.

Rook finds himself laying his head on your lap his arms wrapped around your waist while kneeling on the ground. You gently run your fingers through his soft silky blonde hair.

Rook sniffled and looked up at you, and you could see a single tear form in his eye.

"My heart yearns for your favor, mon amour. I wish to be as loved as much as you love Monsieur Heart and Monsieur Spade. But It seems that you haven't noticed that yet." he whispered, his voice hoarse.

You tilted your head to the side slightly. You didn’t hear him clearly and ask him to repeat what he said.

He would’ve, but he just doesn’t feel like answering so he looked away from your eyes. You understood and went back to patting him gently.

He takes a deep breath in burry his head back into your stomach. "You’re so cruel, yet I still love you. The things I do for love." The things he does for you. He would do anything for you.

"I've never let anyone see me in this vulnerable state.” You’re so cruel, but he will still love you. No matter what, he will wait for you to love him back.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

BAM DONE. I had a little fun writing this honestly, silly little break. Thanks for reading up to this point. Sorry for the grammatical errors..

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shiny-jr · 1 year ago

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Could you do a piece of the octotrio(individually) where they confess to the reader but they reject them because they don't like them,the whole chapter 3 situation, and the reader knows that they obviously do even more shady shit? Like Jade and Floyd are pretty much confirmed part of the fish mafia, Azul is a slimeball capitalist and by relation to the twins will do even more deplorable shit. Kinda like what you did for Malleus, Kalim and Leona,please?

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto.

Summary: You already had a handful with adjusting to life at Night Raven College, what you didn't need was the extra attention from a curious student of Octavinelle. Those of Octavinelle were bad news, and you did not need whatever bad news they decided to deliver to you with a bouquet of flowers.

Note: Anon, as soon as I read this request, I made a face. And not a bad face. It's hard to describe, but to assure you, I immediately muttered, "Now that's what I'm talking about." I'm so terribly picky with accepting requests, and I hate it, but this one managed to catch my eye immediately. Man, do I love rejection requests. Rejected sad and crazy boy hours are here.

Added: I drafted this up months ago and haven't touched it until now. I've been struggling on Floyd's part, so I just decided to finish Azul's part and put that out.

When you suddenly awoke in a floating coffin and miraculously became a student at this magic school, you expected surprises but not like this. As if trying to go through the daily motions while wondering which student would snap next wasn't enough, now you had a particular fellow lurking about and watching you. It would only be a matter of time before they grew tired of waiting and would decide to strike.

Oh, would you look at that. This greedy merman now has his sights set on acquiring your love. How did this happen? Why is this happening? It's difficult to tell, but for now you can only hope that he isn't concocting some terrible plot for you.

He's terribly intelligent and much too cunning, then he has his business facade to top it off. But so many times, so many times, his facade has nearly cracked around you. In fact, you wouldn't exactly call him "cool and collected." There's a little desperation in his tone when he asks for your time in a worthwhile exchange, he states. Or how his hand grips yours and lingers for much longer than is necessary whenever he has an excuse to shake your hand. And the freebies, oh god the freebies. You don't trust anything "free" from him, but he's always offering an abundance of goods, a token of goodwill, he says. Not that you trust that either.

Azul generally seems like a talented and clever guy destined for success. But, you prefer to have no affiliation with him. It's his methods to success that you can't exactly approve of. The scams, the tricks, the intimidation, every bad deed was done in such a meticulous way under certain circumstances he sets so that he faces no repercussions in the end should something go astray. Which is why when you caught on to his desire to be close to you and give you gifts, it placed you on edge as you anticipated the big moment he would act on those feelings.

"Why, hello, dearest. What a pleasant surprise seeing you here! You do know you are always welcome in my lounge." Azul exclaimed in greeting, as if the twins hadn't herded you here. The dorm leader stood in front of your table, serving you the food you begrudgingly ordered once you realized you wouldn't be allowed to go off the hook so easily. "I hope the meal is to your liking. Now that the opportunity has presented itself, I'd like to speak with you. I must admit, I've taken quite the liking to you, so please, I implore you, consider the rare proposition I'm about to offer." Azul flashed that award-winning business smile, as he held up a bouquet of flowers decorated with colorful pastel shells. He had practiced his speech for hours, and now he was awaiting your response. However, when he noticed your hesitance and obvious discomfort, his heart stopped.

His smile became more strained as he went off script, attempting to further convince them that he was a worthy suitor.

"I assure you, I will be a wonderful significant other. Not only am I the head of the Octavinelle dorm, but I am a top student as well. As you know, I also own the Mostro Lounge and have a great many connections to students across campus."

With every second that passed, he was growing more desperate. That much was obvious.

"If you desire gifts, I will deliver gifts. If you wish for affection, I will drown you in my affection. If you ask for praise, I will pen poetry that rivals literature venerating the most coveted figures in the land and sea's histories!"

Well, this was awkward. You did not anticipate him to have the brazenness to confess publicly. It felt more like a business proposition than a confession. Maybe this was a part of his plan to profess his affection in his lounge, a controlled environment, where there was a higher chance you would accept under the pressure of the many eyes of other customers taking notice. His smile faltered the more the unease festered in his gaze as each second passed.

The answer was no. You wouldn't date him even if the deal included a weekly allowance, because you had a lot more to lose. You weren't sure what category Azul fell into. Acquaintance? Yes. Friend? Possibly, but that was pushing it a bit.

The owner of the lounge was greedy, cunning, and conniving. No matter what he had, it never was enough. Even when he swiped the powers of countless fellow students, he still wanted more. If you gave him an inch, he would take a mile. And you weren't exactly quick to forgive him for his many past transgressions.

Even if he's claimed to have mended all his ways, repented, seen the light, and made a switch, Azul remains a business man above all. And honestly, you'd rather not be dragged into his affairs, especially since you're fairly certain that some of the things he's done may be unlawful or accomplished by going through loopholes in laws. All of his attention and time was consumed by his academics, his business, and creating other deals to earn a profit. These were the three that took up his time the most, and it kept him incredibly busy. That was one thing, the other was this: How long would things be sweet before he allowed his desire to sour the relationship? Sure, at first he may shower you in gifts, cash, and affection, but you're sure that eventually the relationship would become bitter by his possessiveness and bottomless greed.

So... you're declining... I see. Perhaps the incentives aren't enough. Allow me to offer you something more. He felt humiliated. The rejection gave him flashbacks to primary school and his constant refusals then, but this one hurt ten times harder. Back then those were just silly childhood crushes that were worth nothing, this was different. This was worth more than all the cash in his vault. Eventually, he improved himself in his youth with stubborn determination, and that's how he would win again. He would use charm, manipulation, underhanded tactics, wit, and stubborn determination to ensnare your heart.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst writing #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul x reader

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ashensgrotto · 11 months ago

Text

Never Had a Friend (like Me) - Part 1

Original art piece by pfbatakopd on twitter (Used only for Header. Do NOT REPOST ORIGINAL ART)

Part 1 (You Are Here) Part 2 Part 3

YandereSoulmate! AU:

Part 1 (Am I Feeling Love?)

Part 2 (Protective)

Part 3A & Part 3B (Poor Unfortunate Souls)

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto X F!Reader

Word Count: 9,105

Synopsis: A chance for redemption comes in the form of a wish…

Author’s Notes: Ok, here we go. I received an anonymous message in my inbox for the next part of the Yandere!Soulmate series and I was actually going to work on it - but with the arrival of GloMas, working on the next part of ‘Raison D’être,’ wanting to finish “Weren’t You Aware, Angelfish?”, AND the holidays, time got away from me and I forgot about Scarabia’s segment for a short while.

However, because you all seem to enjoy this and want to know if the tako has redeemed himself - I figured I would work to get this part done. Now, warning - Pompefiore’s part is going to take a bit of time to complete because I will have to wiggle my way through my memory bank and replay a few parts of it (which is approx 76 chapters in length for those players who haven’t made it that far into the game yet) since I’m working so deep into Ignihyde’s chapter right now (which is a doozy - I’m still in chapter 67-tower 1, oof help).

This one is also going to be split into three parts - I promise it will not be a long wait for the second & third parts as this is my Christmas gift to all of my readers <3

Thank you all for your continued support!

Warnings are as follows: yandere behaviors, manipulation, imprisonment, & hypnosis

***

I’m in the mood, to help you dude

You ain’t never had a friend like me.

***

It had been weeks since the last overblot incident… and just as long since Azul last saw you.

He sat in his office, looking over paperwork for the last quarter and rubbing his brow with worry.

The profits had started to steadily decrease following his overblot, causing the Monstro Lounge to slowly suffer the loss, like an infection slowly eating away a mer’s life. He had no one really to blame but himself for that… Azul had lost control, let his obsession get out of hand and had hurt the people closest to him.

Jade… Floyd… you.

Azul let out another large sigh and set the report down, taking his glasses off and rubbing his face. He had considered going back to the Coral Sea for holiday, but was unable to due to two reasons; one, the ice floes would’ve made the journey too dangerous to travel alone - especially since Jade and Floyd had already prepared to stay at NRC for the holidays, and two… you were still here.

Not in Octavinelle where Azul had wanted you to be, but in a rundown shack on the school property.

The building had been a dorm, once upon a time, but ghosts had moved in and scared the students to the point that the building was deemed ‘unsafe.’ However, with your charms and personality, the ghosts were easily persuaded and welcomed you in with open arms - though Azul had a sneaky suspicion that both the headwardens of Savanaclaw and Heartslabyul had likely persuaded the otherworldly spirits in exchange for access to both of their dorms. Regardless, with you no longer in Octavinelle and now at the mercy of the headmage’s “generous” nature, Azul could only watch from the shadows as you now tended to the school property in a janitorial role.

Azul leaned back in his chair, his thoughts plagued by you before an obnoxious ringing noise filled the office.

He grumbled, picking the phone up, “Monstor Lounge, this is Azul speaking.”

“Hello baby, how are you?” the familiar voice of his mother on the other end made Azul jump in surprise.

“Mother,” Azul coughed, “Hello - I apologize I hadn’t had a chance to call you. We’ve been busy lately.”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart,” his mother answered, “It’s been busy here too… but everything’s been calming down since the ice floes came - though I was surprised to see your letter that you were considering coming home for the holidays.”

‘Shit…’ Azul had completely forgotten about that - when (Y/N) had lived in the Octavinelle at the beginning of the year, Azul had entertained the idea of potentially inviting her to his home for the holiday, slowly and suringly getting her accustomed to the idea of staying with him - although it would prove to be a difficult task, especially now.

“However, I’m assuming that you changed plans at the last minute,” his mother continued.

“Y-yes, I was indeed planning on coming… however, Jade and Floyd both decided to stay behind so I chose to stay as well,” Azul answered, the lie slipping easily off his silver tongue, “Someone has to keep those two in line, after all.”

His mother snickered, “Don’t be saying that in front of their father though. Sevens knows what the moray will do if you say anything like that.”

Azul nodded, clearing his throat, “Um, well… What's going on with you, then? The restaurant still alright? How’s Finn?”

“Finn’s well - busy as always,” his mother answered, “Business has been getting better - hired several new staff members as well… a few sweet mers around your age, Zully.”

Azul rolled his eyes, “Mother… we’ve had this talk. I’m… not interested.”

“You might not be, but it will happen one day,” his mother’s voice was calm and soothing before she sighed on the end of the phone, “However… I have a sneaky feeling that you’re still upset about what I told you all those years ago.”

Azul bit his lip, answering, “Of course not… Soulmates? That’s ridiculous.”

“Azul…” his mother’s voice turned into a scolding tone, “There are plenty of fish out there - I know you’re still pretty young to be thinking about it, considering a mer’s life is longer than most, but shorter than a fae’s… but I only want you to be happy.”

“I am, mother,” Azul tried to smile, “I’m content where I am - I’ve gotten stronger, my business is growing, and… I’ve learned so much.”

“Perhaps, but allow me to give you a little insight - it’s something I learned long ago,” his mother prompted, “Happiness, though may be defined as ‘the state of joy or contentment,’ is typically filled by three main parts of life; success, dedication, and personal. Dedication and success go hand in hand with each other - if you work hard and are dedicated, you achieve success - even if the tasks prove to be difficult to the point that you might fail over and over again. Personal can mean time for yourself - spending time with your hobbies or doing what you love… spending time with those you care about even.”

Azul listened to his mother’s words, thinking.

“I know that you are successful and you’re dedicated,” his mother continued, “But you won’t achieve happiness if you just focus on those two things - take time for yourself now and again, look for stronger connections within your friendships… and look for someone that will want to support you and you support them.”

“I… I think I understand…” Azul answered, “I’ll… take your words into consideration.”

“I hope so - your grandmother taught me that when I was still a little octo fry many years ago,” his mother answered, a teasing tone caught in her voice.

Azul couldn’t help but smile, “Yes… Nanna always did know what was best.”

“Yes, she did, still does even… Well, I should probably let you go, then - you have a lot of stuff going on there,” his mother let out a sigh, “Just remember… I love you, baby. Merry Christmas.”

“I love you too… momma. Merry Christmas and I’ll see you at the end of the year.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Zully. Stay safe.”

Azul smiled and hung the phone up, sitting back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling.

“Finding that so-called ‘other half’ is like - well - like the story of the mermaid princess and her longing to be with a human. It’s a rare occurrence that only happens once in a millennium if not longer. Anyone can be happy with or without their soulmate, Azul. There’s no reason you should go to such lengths to be with someone who may not even exist…”

Azul shook his head at the memory of that day years ago - he wanted to forget… but sevens knows he couldn’t forget you.

A sudden loud crash had Azul bolting upright, his features twisting in annoyance. As far as he knew, the only ones in the lounge were Jade and Floyd… which could only mean one thing.

Trouble.

“Those two morons…” Azul gritted his teeth, standing from his chair, “If I catch the lounge in a disarray again…”

He grabbed his jacket, tossing it over his shoulders, before placing his hat upon his head, the magestone pen morphing into the headwarden’s silver octopus topped cane. He hurried from his office and headed into the lounge.

Entering the lounge, Azul’s eyes widened at the sight.

The lounge was damaged - several tables and chairs were overturned, marred by huge cracks and scratches while lamps lay in pieces on the floor, the glass orbs scattered into a thousand fragments on the carpeted flooring and the magestones cracked and shattered as well. Azul’s eyes narrowed on Jade and Floyd’s figures, but realized they weren’t alone after all. Several students from the Scarabia dorm were there as well, their wands out and at the ready - pointing them at Jade and Floyd, who seemed to be guarding something on the floor.

Azul’s eyes widened in surprise at seeing Kalim’s magic carpet as well as Grim hiding behind the remaining two members of Octavinelle - and they weren’t alone.

You were there as well, cowering behind Jade and Floyd’s intimidating heights as the Scarabia students glared daggers at you.

“There’s no escape for you now, thieves!”

“Surrender quietly!”

“Mrow?!” Grim held his paws up, “You chased us all the way here?! You guys are seriously stubborn, you know that?”

Azul remained quiet for a moment, his eyes shifting to look you over - noticing how you had one arm close to your body. Were you hurt?

Azul’s eyes narrowed as he approached, his shoes echoing in the lounge as his stern voice addressed the situation, “What is all the commotion at this late hour?”

The students turned to look at Azul, one of them speaking quietly, “Y-you’re… Azul Ashengrotto, the housewarden of Octavinelle!”

“Would you care to explain what is going on?” Azul asked calmly, moving to stand in front of you with Jade and Floyd behind him.

“It’s none of Octavinelle’s business,” another student tsked, “Just hand over the two of them quietly.”

Azul crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head as he eyed you and Grim out of the corner of his eye, “Now that I’m looking closer at it - it appears to be (Y/N) and Grim sprawled out on our floor, quivering and covered in dust. Heh - I almost thought they were a pair of dust cloths.”

“Azul, please,” Azul met your gaze, “save us with your spirit of benevolence.”

“Hmm…” Azul turned back to the group of Scarabia before him.

“If you refuse to hand them over, you’ll be blamed for their wrongdoings as well,” the student warned.

“Hey - are ya yankin’ my tail here?!” Floyd’s eyes widened dangerously, his teeth peering out from behind his lips, “Who do ya think yer talkin’ to?!”

“No fighting of any kind is permitted in the Monstro Lounge,” Azul kept his arms crossed over his chest, his focus reshifting to address the situation at hand, “This is a place for gentlemen.”

“What was that? Are you interfering?” one of the students asked, “Fine, we’ll just do this the hard way.”

“Hmph, I think it’s time we asked these ill-mannered patrons to leave,” Azul growled, clicking his tongue in annoyance, “Jade. Floyd. Show them the door.”

The eel twins grinned as they moved quickly, going after the Scarabia students like the set of predators that they were. Azul was quick to move and cover (Y/N), his overcoat covering your form to protect you from the fighting, “Don’t look, my dear, I do not wish for you to see such behavior.”

“Azul - I’ve seen worse,” your voice rattled him to the core as he huffed.

“I... don’t need the reminder.”

It didn’t take long for the Scarabia students to fall back, Jade and Floyd repocketing their pens.

“Go on an’ scatter, ya bunch of minnows!” Floyd laughed eagerly.

“We’ll be eagerly awaiting your next visit to our lounge,” Jade smiled.

As the last of the students disappeared, Grim jumped for joy, “Mya-haha! We did it! You see that?! That’s what you get, you bunch of jerks!”

“We, Grim? I think you mean they - Floyd and Jade - did it,” you ask before shaking your head and turning toward the trio, “Thank you, all three of you - I don’t want to think what they would’ve done if you hadn’t stepped in.”

“Thanks are unneeded, my dear,” Azul answered, standing and offering his hand, “However, I’m afraid we’ll have to bill you for repair fees for the tables and chairs - not to mention the lamps and assorted dishwear that was damaged in that fight. Not to mention our own labor rates, since we were dragged into this affair.”

“WHAT?! You’re charging us for that?!” Grim asked, throwing his paws up in the air.

“Surely it’s a small price to pay for us rescuing the both of you from the inky depths of peril? After all, (Y/N) did ask for my spirit of benevolence.”

“Azul, please,” you asked quietly, “There’s a reason that the Scarabia students were after us.”

“I’m assuming it has something to do with Kalim’s magic carpet.”

“... Not really,” you answer, “We were being held hostage.”

Azul frowned, not liking the word one bit, “Explain, (Y/N).”

***

Azul muddled over what you had just told him, Grim piping up every so often to include details about the Scarabia situation to add more information as the cunning octopus thought deeply. As Azul thought, his eyes kept shifting to you, his thoughts going deeper into self-loathing; if you had remained in Octavinelle, none of this would have happened - you would’ve been safe, not having to walk to an oasis down and back again every morning before even eating, or sleeping in a closet under lock and key, or even doing battles with other students of magic when you couldn’t even cast a spell yourself.

His poor little angelfish…

Azul’s eyes widened, an idea appearing in his mind… a chance of a lifetime had just been given to him and he would be damned to let it go to waste.

A knowning smile spread across his features, “...It sounds like we should go to their aid.”

“Myra?! Did you hit your head or something when I wasn’t looking?!” Grim asked.

“Of course not!” Azul feigned harm, lifting his gloved hand to his chest, “I’ll have you know, my dear Grimmy, that the last incident forced me to reflect on my greed. I came out a changed man!”

“Oh, really?” You asked, folding your arms across your chest, “Care to explain?”

“I decided to contribute to the school as a whole, in honor of the Sea Witch’s spirit of benevolence,” Azul explained, his features turning coy, “It’s common knowledge that the housewardens are typically the ones their students go to in times of need or struggle - even the vice wardens are responsible for that as well. However, the power has to be shared equally between both the house and vice wardens - and Scarabia’s all over the place. It’s faced with a crisis now and my own classmate is in need of help - I can hardly ignore them in their time of need.”

You watched Jade and Floyd give each other knowing smiles before the twins looked at Azul, Jade asking, “What is the plan?”

“Here’s my idea,” Azul proposed, “The five of us head to Scarabia tomorrow - we’ll go under the guise that we are returning Kalim’s carpet as well as offering assistance with the dorm’s studies, this will ensure our stay especially since Octavinelle did overwhelmingly well on their finals before break…”

“No thanks to your study guides,” Grim huffed.

“Grim,” You warned.

Azul coughed and continued, “Once we’ve secured our spot within Scarabia, we’ll be able to do a bit of sneaking around to figure out what’s really going on.”

“And I’m assuming you have an idea on how to do so?” Jade asked.

“Let’s get to that point before we make any rash decisions,” Azul answered.

“I think that is a wonderful idea,” you agreed.

“(Y/N)?! Are you crazy?!” Grim asked, “We can’t go back there!”

“Grim, we really have no other options,” you turned to the feline demon, “We’ve tried contacting the Headmage, the other students can’t get into the school because the dark mirror is closed off, we have no way of contacting Riddle or Leona either… Azul’s plan is the best we have right now. Personally, I’d rather not go back, but with the way things are looking for Kalim…”

“You’re afraid there’s going to be another overblot, aren’t you, pearl?” Jade asked.

Azul blinked, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Yes, Kalim’s behavior was erratic, but it couldn’t be enough for the headwarden to go into an overblot… would it?

“I’m afraid so,” you admit, looking over at Azul, “I noticed that… when things got a little out of control, someone overblotted. I can’t bare to see another student go through that, much less a housewarden again. I’d like to try and prevent it from happening again, if possible.”

Azul nodded, “No worries, angelfish - I’ll make sure mine was the last one you saw.”

You give the housewarden a small smile of relief - thankful that he seemed to understand.

Azul remembered during his blot how the memories of his childhood came forward; the root cause of his pain and suffering that eventually became his thirst for power that festered and grew until it snapped - and you had seen it all. Whatever this strange magical gift was and how you received it, Azul was certain that it was your own form of unique magic - one that was so powerful that it may even make Malleus Draconia afraid if he knew about it; the power to look into one’s past and see everything that shaped them into who they eventually became was strong powerful magic indeed - but, of course, Azul didn’t want anyone else to know about it, considering he was victim number three to the overblot crisis that appeared to be happening this year.

Azul reaches out, offering his hand to you, “(Y/N), as headwarden of Octavinelle - allow myself and Jade and Floyd to help you and Grim solve the mystery of Kalim’s strange behavior. I’m certain the five of us plus Jamil will be able to ease Kalim’s troubles and bring back the peace Scarabia so desperately needs. Do we have a deal?”

You look at his hand, the memory of the first day you met him and the day you lost your legs both playing in your mind - but what choice did you have? You look at him and take his hand, squeezing it.

“Promise - this will make us even?”

“Indeed. I promise.”

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ranimotia · 2 years ago

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@shiny-jr

@remturtle

@dontfuckme

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merakiui · 6 months ago

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angel/angler.

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, stalking, non-con, non-consensual photography, chikan/groping (train molestation), obsession, kidnapping/captivity, drugging, violence, blood, death (or is it??), azul's insecurities and low self-esteem, azul’s not-so-subtle breeding kink, implied disordered eating, reader's height isn't described, but it's written that azul is taller note - to obsess is to hunger like an angler from the deep sea. living his entire life in pitch-black solitude, entranced by an angel's halo; his only purpose is to find the body that will become his lifeline and, one day, his cemetery.

entry 1: 18 April, 20XX.

For anonymity’s sake, I’ve chosen to write using a vague pronoun. Additionally, this diary will be a record of my thoughts so that I can keep my mind and senses intact. In my youth, I was prone to terrible fits of self-destructive rage, and as a result they suggested I write my feelings down to prevent any outbursts. I’m not very physical towards others. Rather, it was the harm I posed to myself that fostered concern.

But this space isn’t for my own views on myself. It’s about someone else.

I have a confession: I’ve fallen in love with you from the train, and I’ve been in love with you for the four months I’ve come to know you.

You wear perfectly pressed suits, heels of a modest height, tights, and pencil skirts that cut just at your knees. I want to touch you, but if I do you might stop wearing skirts altogether and then I’ll never see your legs again. I suppose trousers aren’t so unattractive. They’re appealing in their own right. Everything looks good on you, though. (Nothing would look even better.)

You work in an office building. I’m not sure which floor, but I’ll know soon enough. I wanted to follow you inside, but there’s a security guard in the lobby. He always greets you, and you always smile and chat with him. You’re a kind person, so I let this pass without incident. But I can’t lie to these pages and say it’s not troublesome when I watch his gaze linger longer than it needs to.

I’d kill him, but then they’d employ a new guard and you’d make friends with him because you’re so kind. I don’t admire kind people. Rather, I find kindness to be a double-edged blade (Is that the correct phrasing? It’s different in my hometown. We say kindness is like pufferfish—harmless until it’s provoked and then it becomes poisonous). It’s not that I look down on kind people. I just think you shouldn’t be so quick to befriend the world in its entirety.

After plenty of observation, I’ve learned that you often leave your building to get lunch by yourself. This is what you’ve eaten in the week:

Monday - A salad at a popular café. Iced tea because it was a sunny day. A tiny cheesecake for dessert. It was blueberry.

Tuesday - A wrap of some kind. Chicken? Or was it vegetarian? Sweet potato fries. Water.

Wednesday - You didn’t leave your building. Were you at work today?

Thursday - Another salad. Water. Same café. No tiny cheesecake.

Friday - You went to lunch with that guard. I only remember my irritation and so I’m afraid I can’t make note of your meal for today. He looks at you like an obsessed puppy waiting for its owner to give it attention. I want to pluck his eyes from his sockets so he’ll never look at you in that way again.

You lead a healthy lifestyle, but I can’t help wondering if you’re eating well. Did someone say something about your figure? I’ll eviscerate them for you and then they can see how much it hurts when unnecessary scrutiny is thrown around.

It’s quite late. I want to sleep, but thinking about you has my body wide-awake. I wonder if your mouth tastes like the moonlight shining in through my window. I wonder if your body is soft like mine… Of course it is. A silly, irrational thought. You’re much warmer than me. This is just a theory. I’ve yet to feel and confirm for myself. I will in the foreseeable future.

Before we part ways, I want you to know that I’m not very good at cooking. I’ve picked up a few books and hope to learn. I’m going to practice so that I can feed you better meals one day. Salads are the worst. Fried chicken is the true meal of heaven. I’m certain you would share this sentiment.

If I were to be condemned to a last meal like those serial killers on death row, I’d ask for fried chicken. Knowing you, you’re too good to kill anyone. In this hypothetical, supposing you’re a heinous criminal, your last meal would be something healthy. Do you even like those salads, or are you forcing yourself because you must? I understand calorie-counting well enough, but if there’s one thing to enjoy in life it should be food.

I suppose that makes me a hypocrite. I ought to take my own advice.

Oh. I’m starting to grip my pen with more force and the lines have become shaky. I usually break my writing utensils if my focus strays. I’ll stop here for today. Ink is a pain to clean.

AA.

The morning rush is your greatest enemy.

Jack Howl, the lobby’s security, has suggested giving you a ride on numerous occasions. “It’s part of the reason I got my license,” he explained once, “so that I can protect those who work in this building from the rush. Not like you have to accept my offer. It’s just…convenient for both of us. Again, I don’t care what you do.”

(He does. You see through his gruff surface.)

According to him, the morning and night rushes bring out the worst kinds of characters.

But isn’t that everywhere? you think as you peer out the window, watching the city come into clarity.

Like every morning, the train car is more crowded than a sardine tin. You’re used to being pressed up against other commuters, pinned to the window or between people. You’re flattered to know someone’s concerned, but nothing has happened yet. And why would it? It’s bright outside. No one would dare do something during the day. At least, not in a crowded area where anyone could see and hear.

I wonder what I should have for dinner. I still need to go shopping. My fridge is way too empty, you think, sighing. And I need to follow up with that one author. They’ve yet to get back to me about my edits. Perhaps we should meet in the office instead of through video call… And I also need to finalize that other style sheet after the last round of editing. And then another conference… There was something else. Was I scheduled to have lunch with an author? Or was that next week? I should check before—

The train shudders as it slides into the station. Someone brushes against you from behind. Their hand is pressed against the window just near your head. They steady themselves, their body so close to yours you can hear their staggered breathing.

“Ah. S-Sorry…”

It’s next week, right? I really should check once I get to my stop. This is going to eat me alive all day.

“Mhm,” you hum, waving dismissively.

The stranger standing behind you peels his hand away from the window. A sweaty palm print is left in its wake.

“We will be approaching the next stop shortly.”

Just one more and you’ll be getting off.

A pair of bright eyes blinks back at you in the reflection, watching the city just as you are.

entry 5: 22 April, 20XX.

I’m not a social person by any means. If I can avoid crowds, I usually do. An introvert’s paradise is best spent in the comfort of their own room, after all. But if you prefer outdoor dates I can become extroverted for your sake. There are lots of things I’m willing to do for your sake.

Which is why I’ve forced myself to tolerate the train. I loathe it. It’s cramped and uncomfortable. Most days I’m not even near you, and so all I can do is stare longingly from afar. I content myself with imaginary scenarios like in the books you edit. I’ve mentioned it sparsely in this diary, but you’re a brilliant editor. Most of the novels you work on aren’t exactly my taste, but there’s something to appreciate about them. Reading through them knowing your very eyes pored over these pages dozens of times before publication… I admire your work. Immense time and effort goes into all professions, especially ones that involve meticulous touches.

With this discussion of careers, you might wonder what I do for a living. I manage my own restaurant chain off-site. It must be shocking news for you to realize: your secret admirer is actually quite successful.

If I’m not able to provide an adequate life—no, more than that. If I cannot drown you in all of life’s luxuries, I should sooner throw myself on the beach and let this soft, wriggling body of mine dry out than settle for the barest of minimums. You deserve only the finest.

In fact, I have a room in my home dedicated to you. A private office in which you can write and edit in peace. It’s furnished with everything you’d ever need. I hope to gift it to you one day.

Remote work is very relaxing. (You’ll know this once you try it here.) When you’re boss, you work your own schedule. That’s why I’m able to fit our secret meetings into my weekly itinerary.

Today’s meeting was quite fortuitous. I felt like I’d won the lottery. Mostly because I was finally given the opportunity to be close to you. So close, in fact, that you didn’t even notice when I slid my phone under your skirt to take a few photos. Your undergarments are unexpectedly plain. Truthfully, I’m somewhat disappointed. I was hoping to learn your lingerie preferences. At the very least, I know your tights are sheer enough to show me the color of your panties.

I consider myself a connoisseur of many things, and I’ve done enough interior decorating in my time to become well-accustomed to color palettes. A fool would say your panties are red, but they’re actually maroon.

That same fool wouldn’t take another breath after glimpsing such a private side of you.

If you must know, my dear, I am excessively avaricious when it comes to the things I like. I have always been this way. I am a collector. A hoarder of secrets. I refuse to let others touch or take the things that belong to me, especially when they are wholly undeserving…

I’ve broken another pen. Thankfully, the mess wasn’t so extreme. Not-so-thankfully, I’ve lost my train of thought.

Ah. Right. Trains.

Today I rode the train, and I was standing right behind you. You were looking out the window, lost in your thoughts, and so you didn’t notice me. You must have seen my reflection, but I wear a mask and a hooded sweatshirt when I go outside. Perhaps it’s a touch embarrassing to admit, but I am very self-conscious of the way I look. Firstly, my eyes are too tired. I’ve read that many people are not fond of eyes with dark circles under them. Secondly, my face is average—unworthy of your love by my lofty standards. My hair never cooperates. My smiles never fit properly. My skin is too pale. My eyes are too blue and my pupils are abnormal. My weight is just a few kilograms above the average. I will work hard to bring it back down for your sake and for my own so that it won’t show. I prefer a slim waist, so I must stomach all manner of healthy foods for the weekend. What a pity… Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could eat whatever you wanted without having to worry about caloric intake and numbers on a scale?

That aside, there are times in which my glasses sit crooked on my face and it’s a horrifying thought to imagine I walk around looking like that! As if I’ve rolled right out of bed with no regard for my appearance whatsoever!

Perhaps the both of us share one similarity. We are vain creatures who care too much about how we present ourselves to others.

Thus, I conceal myself so that you won’t judge me harshly should you look upon me. Not like you’d do that. You were so immersed in your head that you hardly paid any attention to your surroundings. You should be more careful. What if something were to happen and I wasn’t there to protect you?

The train stuttered to a halt at the first stop, and some fool bumped into me. I should thank them because I got to brush against you. You gasped softly. I watched your breath fog the window. I placed my hand just above your head and apologized softly, and you weren’t bothered in the slightest. Oh, how I envy your carefree nature.

As a result of that stranger’s mishap, I’ve learned something new. You wear perfume. Even with my mask, I could smell it. Strong and flowery, overwhelmingly sweet. Maybe you prefer these scents? I’m more partial to mature scents, but I admit there’s a certain charm to the scents you wear. I wish I knew the exact brand. There are dozens of perfumes with the same notes as the ones I picked up, but none can compare to the one you use. I want to be able to hold the bottle knowing it’s your favorite.

I’ve prattled enough. With the length of my entries, you’d assume I was this chatty beyond the page. I’m not. I only say as much as I think is necessary.

Once again, I’m having trouble falling asleep. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m looking through the photos I snapped and the outline of your lips against your panties is lovely. I’m sure you’re just as soft and sweet inside as you are on the outside. If only I could experience it right now. My hand can’t replicate the softness or the wetness or the way you’ll probably clamp down when we finally make love.

I can only fantasize for now. What a pain.

AA.

“It’s going to rain today,” Jack tells you the minute you step through the lift doors into the lobby. He stands straight like a soldier, his shoulders squared and features set into something serious.

“Looks like it, huh?” You glance at the darkening sky outside, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Hopefully it rains after I get home. I didn’t bring an umbrella.”

“I’ll drive you.” He falls into step beside you. “It’s dark out and the station is—”

“It’s only five minutes away. I’ll be fine. I take this way all the time.”

Jack’s lip twitches into a grim frown. The beginnings of a sharp, pearly-white canine flashes at you as his mouth curls. “Fine,” he concedes with a huff. Awkwardly, he scratches the back of his neck and looks elsewhere. “Do what you want. I’m not forcing you or anything.”

You smile at him. “You’re very considerate, Jack. I appreciate the concern.”

He’s like a puppy. It’s really sweet.

“W-Wha—who said anything about concern?” His face is growing warmer by the second, thawing his external ice.

“I’ll be okay. It’s not even that dark out either.”

“Still…” He sighs and cards his hand through his hair. “You haven’t noticed anything weird lately, have you?”

“Anything weird?” You furrow your brows, suddenly confused.

“On your way home. Nothing out of the ordinary? It’s the same every day?”

“Mostly, yeah. Why? Did something happen?”

“No. Just wondering…” Jack looks past you then, searching for something you can’t seem to see. “You sure you don’t want a ride? I can walk you to the station. Protect you if anything or anyone—”

You force yourself to laugh. “Come on. You’re trying to scare me on purpose. This is because I told you I’m editing a horror novel, isn’t it?”

Jack doesn’t share in your humor. Instead, his frown tightens on his face.

“While I’m grateful you want to help, I really don’t want to put that on you. It’s not your job to chauffeur me around. I’d feel bad if I made you do that. So thank you, but I’ll have to decline.”

You turn swiftly on your heel before he can protest, striding out the door into the gloomy night.

When is it going to be summer? It’s way too chilly.

You burrow into your jacket as you beeline for the station. A brisk breeze blows through busy city streets. Even though there are still people out and about, it feels strangely desolate.

Jack’s heart was in the right place, but did he really have to phrase it like that?

You wrap your arms around yourself and hurry along. Your steps are in time with your pounding heart. A cold sweat beads along your forehead.

Relax. It’s nothing to get worked up over. I’m fine.

Crunch.

You whirl around, clutching your bag between your arms. There’s no one in sight. The city seems eerily quiet tonight.

Stop scaring yourself. Nothing’s there.

No, it’s not something that could make that sound—a noise akin to a footstep. That belongs to someone.

Is someone following you?

You aren’t going to wait around and find out. Now you’re jogging the rest of the way, your heels clicking against the pavement. Your breath comes in shaky heaves, and by the time you finally step into the station’s blinding fluorescents, adrenaline still vibrating through your veins, you notice the time.

My train—it’s already here! Thank you. Oh, thank you so much!

You rush through the station in a flurry, and the relief is tangible once you’re safe and sound inside the train car. You squirm through the throng of late-night commuters towards the window.

“Sorry. Excuse me. Pardon me,” you murmur as you navigate the crowded space.

You make it to the window just as the doors slide shut. Moments later, the train squeaks into motion.

I worked up such a sweat. I can’t believe I got so frazzled over something as small as a snapped twig…or whatever that was. It wasn’t a footstep. And if it was, it was probably my own.

You shake your head at your reflection.

Look at me, losing my mind all because I let someone’s words get to my head.

The stranger standing behind you sighs alongside you. You’re about to turn around, but it’s their hands on your waist that stop you. Your blood freezes. Your spine goes rigid.

“Excuse me? Um… C-Can I help you?”

You gasp, horrified, as the hands creep higher until they’re wrapped around your chest. The stranger squeezes almost curiously. Their breath catches on an eager hitch. You peer helplessly at the window. Two blue eyes blink back.

“Wait… Hold on—”

“It’s okay.” A man’s voice. Sweet and silky-smooth. A reassuring whisper. Only you can hear it with this invasively close proximity. It might as well be a drop in the ocean that is the rickety din of the train on the rails. You reach to grab his arms, hoping to pry him off. “I’m not going to hurt you. As long as you’re quiet…”

“No, you can’t. Please, sir. S-Stop… Don’t touch there.” Your fingers curl around his wrists. You squirm against him, your brain blanking.

This can’t be happening… There’s just no way…

Something stiff prods at your ass from behind. You yelp softly when he rubs himself against you. You try to catch sight of his features when you crane your neck, but all you get is a faceful of a dark hoodie. He’s tall enough to block you from the other passengers, his body caging yours against the window. One hand slides away from your chest to slip under your skirt. He gropes at your inner thigh; his fingers draw dangerously close to private territory.

“Sir—”

He inhales a dreamy breath. “Perfect,” he babbles, his words muffled by his mask. “So perfect. Warm… And soft. Just as I thought.”

There’s nowhere for you to run. Nowhere to hide. You’re trapped here with this fiend until you get off at your stop.

“We will be approaching the stop shortly,” the woman on the intercom says, but it doesn’t give you the relief you’re after.

Three more stops and then you’ll be at yours. Three more. Three. Your stop might as well be years away.

Two fingers trace the outline of your pussy through your panties. You’re grateful you’re wearing tights.

His breathing is heavy. He’s mumbling filth in your ear. You hardly register it over the static in your brain.

Gross. So gross. Stop it. Please stop. I don’t want this.

A whine bubbles low in your throat when he presses down against your clit. He caresses you through the fabric of your panties. You slump against the window with your palms on the glass. Your heart is in your throat. You feel sick and dizzy. It’s too hot in here. Everything is spinning. Your heart is picking up its pace. Your hands are starting to shake.

And there’s nowhere to go. No amount of begging will stop him. He’s all over you, pressed impossibly close—so close you think he’s trying to fuse his body to yours, becoming one mutual unit.

You want to scream, but you can’t find your voice. You can’t do anything. You can’t even think.

“Don’t be scared,” he murmurs, twining his fingers around your trembling ones. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Mmh, no… No—stop. P-Please, sir, please stop.” You shudder against him, and a choked, broken sob rattles through your ribs.

He chuckles and squeezes your hand. His other circles your tender, sensitive clit, and the contact elicits a whimper from you. “Even though you’re making the cutest sounds? Aah, I wanna be inside you so badly… I’m sure it’s even softer there.”

You bite down on your bottom lip so hard that your teeth pierce the skin. A thin ribbon of blood dribbles down your chin. You refuse to give him that satisfaction. Even though your attempt to snuff your voice is successful, your body doesn’t seem to agree. It shakes in fear and arousal. When he presses against your panties next, he feels the growing damp spot.

That’s just a natural reaction, right? I’m not actually aroused by this. There’s no way!

Just when you think he might pursue further, he pulls back. His hips are still flush to your ass. You can feel his cock straining against the fabric. It’s gross and demoralizing. You’re nothing but a doll for him to get off to. Less than a person.

The train glides to a halt and the doors open. People exit and enter in a busy fashion. You stare out the window at your blurred surroundings.

When the train eases back into motion, you realize tears are welling in your eyes. They don’t fall. Not yet.

It isn’t until you get off at your stop, sprint the rest of the way home, hurry up into your apartment, and lock the door that the horror of it all finally catches up to you. You collapse to your knees and wail like you’ve just lost something precious—something you’ll never be able to get back.

You’ve never felt more dirty before.

entry 36: 4 May, 20XX.

I did it. I finally did it.

My hand is shaking; I’m so happy. No, I’m more than happy. I’m absolutely overjoyed!

You don’t know this about me yet, but I’m terribly envious. I suppose that’s why I could muster the confidence to touch you and hold you… Your body is so soft against mine. Every inch of you is beautiful. I wish I could have felt beneath your shirt, lifted your bra to see your bare breasts in the window’s reflection. This is quite the shameless admission. Even I, despite admiring you for so long, am loath to admit it.

You mesmerize me. I’m already flustered just thinking about the way your hand fit in mine when I held it… And you were aroused! I was so close to such a precious area, and you were wet for me and only me. I feel so overwhelmed. It’s a dream come true. You’re such an angel. My angel.

My dear, darling angel, I’m sorry for startling you. That was the only way, you see, and certain circumstances led me to that point. You must understand.

To be unfiltered about it, it was annoying seeing that security guard pester you. I had the strongest urge to kill him, but that’s not something you can do on a whim. Murder is like running a business, in a way. One misstep, a bad investment or a sliver of evidence left behind, and it might spell the end.

That’s besides the point. It’s hardly worth the time.

Regrettably, while on the train into the city, I noticed you were wearing trousers today. I was right. Last night was a once-in-a-lifetime event. A pity. Your legs in those sheer tights is a vision to behold. Luckily, I have enough pictures to satisfy the craving to see you in them. When you live with me, I’ll buy plenty of tights for you to wear around the house. That way you won’t have to worry if I rip them.

That aside, you’ve started looking over your shoulder more. You talked to that security guard longer than you normally do. It’s irritating. Quite frankly, it pisses me off.

I don’t want to be childish. I understand you’re stressed and nervous. Anyone would be. That’s normal. But I’m not going to hurt you. I even told you those exact words! I’m certain you would have calmed down if you could see my face. Unfortunately, I’m not very blessed in that department. I assure you my personality is far prettier…despite the ugly truths I’ve penned here.

But then those don’t matter when it comes to love. Even in love, couples are supposed to recognize and accept each other’s flaws. So it’s fine if I’m an ugly person. It’s fine if I’m a devil or something grotesque from the deepest trench in the sea. At least, in spite of such darkness, your halo will continue to light the way and I will always be lured in by your luminosity.

I can’t do much of anything right now and that has led me to feel increasingly itchy. I want to feel you again. Smell you. Touch you. I’d like to taste you next time. Part your legs or tear your skirt off and indulge in the space you keep hidden from me. I want to sink into your depths and know the shape of you just as you twist yourself to take the shape of me.

It’s just not enough. I desire more of you.

AA.

entry 40: 8 May, 20XX.

It’s been a few days. You haven’t taken the train since. Now you’re driven to and from work by that pest. I was overcome with such frustration yesterday that I slammed my hands down upon my desk and fractured my wrist. For the time being, until my wrist heals, I must wear this unsightly stabilizer-brace-thing and write carefully with my non-dominant hand. I like to consider myself ambidextrous, if only because it’s a talent I’m sure will impress you, as you seem to surround yourself with successful, talented people, but I must admit my lettering is rather…subpar.

It’s not as neat as I hoped it would be. Something to practice while my wrist heals, I suppose.

There’s only so much strain I can take, my angel. Are you really so afraid of me that you’ve chosen to rely on someone else to protect you? If it was funny, I’d laugh. But it’s not. It’s annoying. Must I chain you up by the throat so that you won’t run away? Must I cuff our wrists together so that neither of us can part ways? What must I do to ensure you’ll never leave me?

Every day I spend in solitude, you grow closer to everyone but me. It’s infuriating.

However, there are always silvers of hope to be found and exploited in misfortune. As a businessman, I know this well enough.

I can plan around this. I’ve taken a few photos of your house at every angle. It’s important to think ahead when making a calculated risk.

When you go to kidnap the love of your life, you must dress appropriately, no? Now should I wear a formal suit or something casual?

I have some time and plenty to look forward to.

AA.

Like always, early as usual, Jack is waiting for you below your apartment. You see his car from the window and light up at once.

It’s been two months since the incident on the train. Jack insisted you go to the police when you confided in him a week after the fact. But what could they do? A story isn’t evidence. Evidence is evidence. So to combat that, you’ve avoided public transport altogether. Jack drives you to and from work and anywhere else you need to go. You never knew him very well before this mess, and you regret not starting a friendship sooner. He’s everything you need right now: a friend, a listener, and someone you can trust and rely on.

Like always, he unlocks the door so you can put your things in the back. “It’s my turn to treat for lunch today, so let’s go somewhere you like.”

You shut the door and open the passenger side, sliding in seamlessly.

“There’s no need for that.”

Your heart skips. Your breath stumbles in your lungs. Your body tenses.

You finally look at the driver.

He’s wearing what appears to be an expensive collared shirt with a tie, but the top half is covered by the soft hoodie he’s thrown on over it. He has a mask like before, but there’s no denying his eyes. Bright and blue, deep and deceptive like the ocean, they blink back at you.

The door locks with a click.

You throw yourself at it in a useless effort to escape. The masked stranger seizes your wrist. You scream.

“There’s no need to be afraid. I-It’s only me! I won’t hurt you.” He tugs his mask down to his chin so that you can see the wobbly smile on his face. “Please don’t be scared…”

“Let go of me, you pervert!” You rip your arm free and reach for the door once more. “What the hell are you doing here?! W-Where’s Jack? Why are you—”

You choke around the rest of your words when he wraps his arms around you and yanks you over the seat towards him. You kick out like a deranged animal, breathing heavy and frantic, your eyes darting to and fro. The stranger manages to manhandle you into a chokehold despite the struggle. With his arm wrapped around your neck, he grabs a plastic water bottle with his free hand. Clumsily, he unscrews the cap and presses the lip of the bottle to your mouth.

“I’m sorry for being so rough, but I need you to drink this. Can you do that for me? Drink all of it.” As he says this, he tips the bottle and the strange liquid fills your mouth. You fight against his hold, doing everything you can to resist. He tightens his grip on you, dragging your body closer to his. “Swallow it, or I’ll slit your throat.”

Against your will, very shakily, you gulp down the solution. It tastes bitter and vile like medicine. A little salty.

“I didn’t want to frighten you, my angel, but this is the only way you’ll listen.” He swipes the tear threatening to spill from your eye. “You don’t have to cry. I’ll take you home and keep you safe. Just drink the rest of this and take a nap until we get there. That’s it. You’re almost done. I know it’s disgusting, but you have to drink it all, my love.”

“Why…” you sputter, coughing. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why?” He blinks at you as if the answer is obvious. “Because I love you.”

You can’t understand the logic there. You don’t want to.

Slumping against the seat, boneless and disturbed, you tremble when he leans over to buckle you in. And you continue to do so until you’re pulled into sleep.

Two blue eyes follow you in your dreams, sticking to your body like old gum under a school desk. In sleep, you feel his hands on you—clinging and cloying like tentacles and the stench of brine, all-enveloping.

entry 179: 24 September, 20XX.

Summer is winding to a close. The last few vestiges of warmth are slipping away. Today’s weather was crisp. Autumn is approaching.

It’s been a difficult few months. I’ve catalogued my process in the time you’ve spent with me, locked away in our bedroom. I must keep you chained to the bed for the time being. It’s long enough to lead into the bathroom. Until I can trust you, this is the arrangement at present.

They’re still searching for you, albeit not as frantically and frequently. I hope they assume you’ve met some grisly end so that I can finally shelve that anxiety and move on with my life. While I’m relieved it wasn’t as messy as I thought it’d be, I’m just a touch disheartened. I would have loved to watch the light fade from that guard’s eyes.

But that just wasn’t feasible or smart. Besides, what else am I to use my current fortune for, if not the props needed for that day? You call it kidnapping, and while that term is technically true I prefer something sweeter. A reunion of sorts.

There’s nothing of note to discuss. You haven’t accepted your new home or me yet, so I will continue to wait. I can be patient. I must be if this relationship is going to work (and it will).

I don’t particularly believe in soulmates. Rather, I find the concept to be foolish. Fate does not dictate an entire life. It is the decisions you make along the way that shape your paths. Just like in my favorite board game. I’d like to play it with you. Although I must admit I already know how our life goes. I have a few routes in mind.

You look at me with such scalding contempt when I imply we ought to start a family, and even though I’ve been victim to that look so many times it doesn’t burn any less. You just can’t see how good this is for you yet.

What else are we to do with our time if not use it to fill quiet halls with the pitter-patter of tiny feet? I have a few names in mind, but for now we’ll take it one day at a time. I’m a patient man despite my temper.

AA.

entry 257: 11 December, 20XX.

Exciting news! Though it may seem small, we’ve reached an understanding. Or so I suspect. You’re not so averse to me anymore. In fact, we take baths together, eat meals together, watch TV together, play board games together… There are so many things we do together as a couple and so, despite the encroaching winter frost, my days have become warmer! Just last night you allowed me to sleep beside you on our bed, and I held you close and you kissed me and I felt like the luckiest man alive.

Finally! Genuine progress!

I won’t delude myself and say that you may finally love me in the way I love you, but a start is a start. I admit I couldn’t help myself. I returned your kiss tenfold, all over your face, down the column of your throat to your collarbone. I was gentle and careful. I didn’t rush.

I like to play experienced in all fields, but even I can’t act perfectly. How should I describe our first time without all of the shameless vulgarity? Perhaps it doesn’t matter. Sex is sex no matter how you try to embellish it. Filthy and imperfect, sweaty and sticky, more effort and exercise than I realized.

You pulled me in close, pursued my mouth with the same want in mine, and it was more cathartic than anything I’ve ever known. Oh, to be kissed by the love of your life! I wasn’t aware such joy existed.

You palmed me through my pajamas and told me you wanted a family—that the idea of raising a little one was perfectly charming. I admit it’s an alluring thought I’ve had long before you lived with me. I’ve always thought you would look very enchanting while pregnant. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself. Even though it isn’t official yet, it doesn’t hurt to call myself your husband. In my mind and heart, we’re married. It may not seem so to you yet, but it will be.

Back to the matter at hand. Hearing that you wanted a child with me made me happy. I can’t remember if I cried. I must have because you pulled me in close and you, lying beneath me, wiped at my face and told me you wanted me to give you a child. And who am I if not the most doting, most benevolent husband? I’d do anything for you.

This must be what a predator feels when they tear into prey: a rapture so absolute and all-consuming that it covers their brain like a cotton shroud and renders every other action a hazy instinct.

It was a blur even though I was sure I moved slowly. Clothes weren’t exactly shucked. They were in the way and we had a singular goal, far too focused to remove them completely. Thus, they were pulled up, down, to the side, in whichever way provided easiest access. I closed my hands around your breasts and they feel so much softer without the obstruction of clothes.

Perhaps, rather than humans, we’re just anglerfish. Hungry for each other, using the other, a voracious relationship full of mutual benefits. If I could, I’d love to live inside you. I want nothing more than to press myself close enough to feel your heart beat alongside mine. To feel rushing blood. To turn myself inside-out just to satisfy you. Give you every little thing I can offer—brain and body—and we’d cleave through sunless waters as one, together forever.

The word ‘love’ is not large enough to truly encapsulate all that I feel for you.

My forehead pressed to yours. You kissed me once. I felt sloppy. I was sloppy. Inexperienced. We both are. Your hand wrapped around me. I told you it was okay, to do it at your own pace, to tell me if it hurts. But you kissed my every anxiety away, and in just a few strokes we were connected. Perhaps I died then and I’m still dead now.

Maybe I’m writing this from the moon or the deep, dark sea. Maybe all of this is just a long dream and I’m not even human. Maybe I’m the anglerfish stuck to your side, latched on with my sharp teeth, our lives forever intertwined. You taste of fruit and blood and every beautifully painful thing in this world.

For the first time in the many months we’ve lived together, you called me by my name. You gasped it as you curled your legs around my waist and clung to my chest, your arms draped over my neck, nails in my back. You chanted it like a song. I must have done the same with yours.

However, no amount of carnal euphoria can change the fact that I still have my reservations about unchaining you.

A deliberation for another day. It’s time to cook dinner. I’ve improved lots in the time we’ve known each other. You help around the kitchen as well. Harmless things like stirring batter or mixing a salad. I can’t trust you with actual food prep for reasons I’m sure are obvious and understandable. I try to create balanced meal plans. Now that I’m no longer eating alone and surviving off of misery, I want to show you that I’m both a great chef and a conscientious eater.

AA.

You watch the seasons shift outside the bedroom window and there’s nothing you can do.

You live life chained like a prisoner and there’s nothing you can do.

You eat off paper plates with the same utensils made for toddlers and there’s nothing you can do.

You let the same man whose touch was once so covetous pet you all over with his hands and mouth and there’s nothing you can do.

You’re stuck here forever and there’s nothing you can do.

There are highs higher than the clouds and then there are lows lower than the sea. You oscillate between these temperaments, a body thrown around on rocky waves. How you’ve yet to sink and drown for good, you’re not sure.

Today’s low has brought Azul to his knees. You stand over him, gripping the knife in a shaky hold. Chopped vegetables scatter in a rainbow on the floor. He had been chopping them so methodically, so wrapped up in pleasant conversation with you, that he hadn’t been expecting the retaliation. The blade is freshly sharpened. The perfect weapon. The perfect opportunity. Freedom just after this final hurdle.

Freedom that comes with its burdens—with a child and the law and the media and… And then what? A life of loneliness. A life spent working through mountains of trauma. A life in which you can never look at the train again.

Two blue eyes blink up at you. For the first time, Azul looks scared and weak—a small, pitiful thing. For the first time, you have him trapped beneath your thumb.

You want to bring the knife down and put an end to these cyclical days. You want to crush his spirits in the same way he crushed yours. You want him to know pain so brutal it rots him from the inside.

But you can’t. You want to and in an ideal scenario devoid of fear you would. But you can’t.

You dig your heel palms into your eyes and sob. “I can’t! I’m sorry. I… I can’t do it!”

Azul deflates with a deep sigh. “Oh… Oh, my angel, it’s all right. I forgive you. You’re just a little confused. A little emotional—I get it. We all have emotional moments. I’m not upset.”

“But I—I almost… I was going to—”

“You didn’t. You didn’t, my love, and that’s what matters.”

He beckons you to his height; you lower to your knees. The knife is still clutched in your hands. He looks between it and you, as if weighing which is more dangerous. Volatile emotions or a blade. Maybe both.

Azul wraps his arms around you and rubs your back consolingly. “It’s okay. I’m not angry.”

You sniffle, but the tears won’t stop flowing. “Still… I almost did such a horrible thing to you. I could’ve hurt you—k-killed you!”

“My dear, it’s okay.” He kisses the top of your head, tucking you beneath his chin. “I forgive you.”

Your fingers tighten around the handle. “You do?”

“I do. I always will.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Angel—”

You turn the sharpened point inwards and slam it into his side, just below his rib. It pierces through soft flesh. You pull away just in time to see hurt and betrayal flash across his face, hot like the tears you’re now drying.

Shakily, his movements unsteady, he reaches for the handle. His fingers dance across it, assessing the reality of the situation. You stabbed him. You did it.

He hisses through his teeth when he tears it out. Blood spatters the kitchen floor in a brilliant, vermillion arc. Azul, knife in hand, staggers to his feet and lunges.

You stumble away in a blind panic.

“How dare you…” He clutches his side with one hand while the other slashes through the air. You narrowly dodge before the knife can slice your arm. Blood seeps through Azul’s shirt, staining his palm red. His expression is twisted in a dark concoction of agony and anger. “I’ve shown you nothing but love and care… I’ve been nothing but patient. I’ve done everything! You were beginning to warm up to me—to this life—our life! I was wrong to trust you. Get back here—”

“You’re crazy! You assaulted me, kidnapped me, threatened me! Do you really think I’d love you after all of that?!” You yelp when his slick, blood-stained fingers wrap around your wrist to drag you down. “Stop! Let go of me!”

You elbow him in the ribs, which causes a shockwave of pain to travel through him, and it gives you enough time to wriggle free. Ripping your arm from his hold, you try to get away when he, aiming to subdue you, grabs hold of your ankle next. You feel the blade sink into your calf before you see it. A terrible cry frays your throat, torn from the depths of your chest like a flower pried from the soil.

“If I’m going to die…” He flops to his knees, wheezing. “If I’m going to die, you’ll die with me.”

“Like hell I will!” you hiss through your teeth, thrashing wildly.

Stupidly, you pull the knife from where it’s wedged in. Blood spurts from the wound, trickling down your leg in a thick, steady stream. You wince and limp towards the door. Closer… You’re almost there.

Azul reaches out with a bloodied hand, his expression utterly shattered. “Wait… Don’t go any further. Please… I need you. We need each other. My angel, my love, please don’t go!”

You tear your eyes away. He’s a monster. You’ll never sympathize with him.

Just before you can get to the front door, Azul picks himself up and wraps his arms around your waist. He pulls you down and your head hits the floor with a harsh smack. You see stars. The ceiling spins above you. You try to get up, crawl away, escape—whatever it takes to lose him—but he clings to your side, holding tight. His blood is warm and wet against your shirt. The pain in your calf is sparking up your leg, joining the ache at the back of your head in duet.

Pressed so closely, the flow of blood slows. Your shirt soaks up what the rest of his already drenched shirt can’t hold.

You watch the ceiling. The light looks like a halo; it shines brightly. Azul blinks up at you, hopelessly, sickly enthralled. The tip of the knife prods at your stomach. If it pierces, you don’t feel it. You’re sore all over. Bruises are already beginning to bloom.

At the bottom of the sea, clothed in frigid darkness, there is no sense of direction.

That’s the sweetest relief while you wade into unconsciousness with a parasitic angler.

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