#hes so azalea coded

[lilacsandstone]

i literally could not rest until i drew him in this. go my scarab or whatever (ref pic under cut)

[birddcandle]

pov your name is pathoslair

for @lunarcrown and @aquaquadrant ‘s Hels To Pay AU!!

[bedsyandco]

https://www.tumblr.com/hhughes/755036725477359616/httpswwwtumblrcomhhughes755036373372829696w

was it azalea's first time celebrating the 4th of july since she's canadian? imagine quinn being so excited to show her their family's traditions and such

and vi wears a bikini with the american flag and luke can't keep his hands off her and even gets playfully scolded by ellen lol

jim at the barbecue and quinn is helping him while azzie teases him about being a good cook

jack pushing vi into the lake when she's trying to tan and then being so worried about anyone other than him or daisy holding rosie in the water (she loves it)

them making s'mores sitting around the fireplace later and rosie drops hers on cole's foot by accident

and little rosie is soooo tired at the time of the fireworks so she's crying a bit in jacks arms cause she gets scared but she had the best day ever with all the uncles and aunts - 👩‍⚕️

gonna answer all of these individually because they’re all such good thoughts bestie and I simply can’t neglect any of them. . .

was it azalea's first time celebrating the 4th of july since she's canadian? imagine quinn being so excited to show her their family's traditions and such

it was azzie’s first time celebrating july fourth. her family was a little sad that she was gonna miss canada day (while she had time to fly between van and michigan , she just wasn’t up for the travels honestly) but she was really excited to spend the time with quinn’s family. there was even some extended family like little cousins and such which azzie loved because she probably won’t see those members of his family much during the year. it was really just nice getting to know his brothers, his parents and ofc vi and daisy. quinn was so excited to have her there and he was just so sweet. including her in all the family games, explaining the rules to make sure she didn’t feel excluded, he even made ellen make one of her mom’s desserts to make her feel a bit more at ease. azzie fit right in though, everyone adored her.

and vi wears a bikini with the american flag and luke can't keep his hands off her and even gets playfully scolded by ellen lol

vi wearing a bikini with the american flag print is just so violet coded to me for some reason? and luke would love it. luke and vi not being able to keep their hands to themselves is just so canon in this au at this point😭 they are always attached at the hip, connected in some way, pressing kisses at random places. they are just so touchy. at one point ellen is just like “will you please refrain from mauling your girlfriend in front of an audience,” and he’d just press one last kiss to violet’s lips before sending his mom a sheepish/apologetic smile. but everyone is used to them by now.

jim at the barbecue and quinn is helping him while azzie teases him about being a good cook

azzie, daisy and ellen sitting in lawn chairs close to the barbecue each with a glass of wine in their hands while they keep quinn and jim company. luke, violet, jack and rosie are playing some type of game on the grass. I do think cooking is something that azzie and quinn love to do together and for each other as a sign of their love.

jack pushing vi into the lake when she's trying to tan and then being so worried about anyone other than him or daisy holding rosie in the water (she loves it)

violet laying on the dock and jack just flipping her towel so she drops in the water. she’s perfectly fine, except for the little splinter in her palm when she clinged to the dock with one hand, cursing him out and promising to get him back but luke saw it happen and he wasn’t very happy. “you shouldn’t do that when she’s that close to the dock. she could’ve hit her head,” luke argues and despite violet reassuring him that she’s fine and her head was far from hitting the dock luke is insisting that jack take her safety more seriously. if luke was gonna take extra precautions to make sure he kept daisy and especially rosie safe whenever they were in his presence, jack could return the same favour.

them making s'mores sitting around the fireplace later and rosie drops hers on cole's foot by accident

this is so funny😭 he is trying so hard not to curse in her presence but fuck did it burn. “you are so lucky that you’re cute and I love you,” cole says, hissing as he lifts his foot to inspect the marshmallow that fell onto his foot. she gives uncle cole lots of snuggles afterwards and he completely forgets about it.

and little rosie is soooo tired at the time of the fireworks so she's crying a bit in jacks arms cause she gets scared but she had the best day ever with all the uncles and aunts

daisy and jack got her ear plugs just in case she still happened to be awake at the time of the fireworks but someone started firing theirs early and it scared poor rosie so bad, she definitely started crying and hiding in jack’s chest. but he gets the ear plugs and she lays on her dad’s chest while watching the variety of colours fill the sky, and her little snores fill the air shortly after.

[starr-251]

How does Louis celebrate his birthday:

He doesn't want to make a big fuss about it. He and Liam lived in the streets for quite some time, so he's used to not celebrating.

Albert won't let it slide.

He always gets the coolest celebrations every year.

Sometimes it's just him and his brothers, sometimes it's Moran and Fred too, and sometime it's just him.

He stopped celebrating his birthday after The Final Problem. It was meaningless.

He gets all sorts of things for his birthday.

But one thing is never missing from the list of gifts:

A bouquet of flowers.

Specifically azaleas, his favourites.

It's also the symbol used for him in the Morigang's flower code.

Why? Because azaleas symbolize family and unity.

Fitting for the foundational stone of the family.

The ever dependable one.

Sometimes people ask for favors in his birthday. He always complies. William wouldn't like him if he didn't. Though it would be nice to get a favor done for him.

Fred invites him to pets his cats, Moneypenny brews tea for him, Jack takes care of cleaning and Bonde takes him out to dinner.

Maybe his birthdays aren't meaningless, even without his own brothers around to celebrate.

[nokaru]

ZenYuki in flower language

Zenyuki Week 2024 Appreciation Post @zenyuki-festival

Day 1: Pick a flower and its meaning that you feel most represents ZenYuki.

Okay, so this is an impossible task - I simply can't pink only ONE flower that represents Zenyuki for me. So I'll make a bouquet! mind you all of these together is a mess but I love it nonetheless

Firstly, I would pick typical red carnations; literally meaning "My Heart Aches For You", admiration, deep romantic love, and passion. When I think of ZenYuki I automatically think of deep devotion and admiration from both sides so carnations are perfect for them. *also zenyuki owns every cheesy romantic line ever so*

Next, bluebells! Their meanings are loyalty, constancy, and humility. These are all traits I associate with ZenYuki both as a couple and as individuals. There's steadiness in Shirayuki and Zen, especially when they are together.

Another flower that just screams ZenYuki to me is the azalea. I like this one for them visually a lot - I think it matches their vibe a lot, there's this softness about ZenYuki and azaleas uknow. Azaleas mean "Take Care of Yourself for Me" and if that isn't the cutest thing ever idk what is. It plays nicely into their long-distance relationship.

Similar to bluebells, bellflowers are so ZenYuki coded. I like to imagine ZenYuki being all noble and castle-vibey but simple wild flowers suit them so much too! Bellflowers mean unwavering love and a constant heart - I will simply die it's so them AAAA DO YOU SEE MY VISION!!?? It naturally goes hand in hand with meaning of gratitude which I associate with Shirayuki's gratitude towards everyone she met in Clarines and Zen's gratitude towards his closest friends/found family (also his gratitude to being a prince as well??!! hes so grateful he can be of service to Clarines)

This is my ZenYuki bouquet that is all over the place! Loved picking these and ofc there are way more flowers I associate with ZenYuki but I couldn't fit them all here ://

also honorable mentions:

Daffodils (regard, "You're the Only One", "The Sun is Always Shining When I'm with You")

Dandelions (overcoming hardship; faithfulness)

Blue Violets (watchfulness, "I'll always be true")

Wisteria (im cheesy) (new beginnings, transformation, passage of time)

[apollo-gate]

These RO asks are putting my brain right into the gutter lol. So here, nsfw. Relationship stage

So, ROs are quite busy, going on their usual work, maybe subduing bad guys or messing with the good guys, perhaps having an exhausting meeting or dealing with a bunch of irritating people/hanger-ons when their phone suddenly vibrates/rings.

MC sent them a message.

"What time are you coming home?"

With an attachment.

A ✨risque✨ picture of MC on the bed, with wet hair and a small towel enough to show off their toned skin.

RO reactions?

MY lord just imagine haveing a serius meeting than getting that kind of picture. AND THE MC IS HOT LIKE ANYONE WOULD BE LIKE DAMN....

Alice: You're asking for like pentup gym guy energy. Like she's ready to just punch and slap anybody in her way like seriously hope you don't get in her way. Alice will be ready to drop her clothes as soon as she sees the front door.

Helena: She be doing dance practice and honestly wouldn't be able to focus she would definitely go take a few pictures and send them and be like wait till i get home use these till I'm there in person

Lisa: she.... she gasp so loud that it would draw attention and would be red face and throw her phone into the wall or out the window then would have the panic over shit I just threw my phone.

Becca: this woman you just gave the cat her creme. you messed up. Becca would say that the punishment will be worse when she got home and the MC isn't ready. And yes Becca is getting the blindfold.

Daniella: She would go and get off to it anywhere she can because she already knows she gonna get it. Shes a lawyer so shell have the time.

Vanessa: Vanessa might shoot out an ice shard just a tiny one. the phone would be destroyed then the frustration of I only had 2 seconds of happiness. (Not like she keep a damn photos in her office)

Azalea: She would just stare. The girl would in the middle of the Embissy and just study Mcs body-like artwork. and have a little bit of drool too just lost in the body.

Kent: Man would be in the middle of an interrogation and break some poor dude's bones simply because he wants the Mc like ima be there soon.

Naamah: On one hand she is impressed. Why are you ending pictures where someone else can see them. She's gonna be taking you into the dark room. and at the same time going to erase the picture from existence. No one can ever see Mc but her.

Blaze: Would do two things run to you immediately to see if the Mc is in fact dressed like that then would message be there in 2 seconds. After all, ever he's doing isn't that important.

Zero would be doing some R&D project and just be like wow. He had to leave because he just ended up putting your name in the code or somehow making a really big mistake like the time he had the Ai say I love you over and over.

RF RO: She is pissed.. like blood and a few other things. but not you no. no harm will come to you. but she is rough. like really rough later that night.

Rune: Aish you're asking for a whip and a few other things. She sends some very dirty naughty texts and it's not at all like Rune would be turned on before she gets to you.

Rene: She be like extra quiet and the only one who would notice is Rune. Rene is a big pillow princess, so she would overthink what to say and even think if that is ok to send. But overall she gets home as fast as she can. Just expect a hard crushing kiss and a tall girl being very neddy.

Jade: She probably screws up a spell she is practicing. Might make a moan sound who knows. But all her acolytes will know someone has her attention.

Psyche would be bouncing off the walls staring at the clock like a child ready to get out of school. She might forget she has a truck and run or get stuck on the subway in her rush. Not her fault you sent her something unexpected.

Atargatis. would start her siren song and not realize it and the MC would be in a state of bliss till she walks in. Yeah, she got you back and you get a state of bliss and pleasure.

Atlas: she is teleporting like a jumping frog to buildings and crash into the bedroom and just do the best sexy pose of I'm here.

[ateerys-punctuationpanic]

Upcoming Untitled Loumand

I saw a black man dancing with his daughter at her ballet recital and decided to make it about Louis. It seemed like a misstep to turn them into Louis and Claudia because Louis is mom-coded to me. I didn't want to give Lestat the honor so I landed on Armand. But the little girl won't be Claudia. In this alternate universe, Armand is the father of twins Benjamin and Sybelle. In an attempt to be a more active father, he hires a parenting coach who suggests he enroll them in extracurricular activities. He settles on dance and drives them, along with their 2 nannies, to The Azalea Studios. A snippet from chapter 1 of ?

It’s to Armand’s understanding that the dance company makes full use of the building's seven stories. The first floor houses the souvenir, dance attire, and equipment shops, all boxing an ornate, cherry wood reception desk at the center. It's trimmed with hand-carved accents in floral motifs, scrolls and rosettes, posts and finials, and seemingly dropped here straight from a seventeenth century Parisian hotel. “I won it in the divorce, baby.” Armand’s head snaps toward the sultry, inviting voice and everything stops. Or at least he wishes so. If he could freeze the moment and bottle it, mass produce replicas so he could relive the first instance his eyes land on the beauty before him. Re-experiencing it like the very first time, at will. “Well, not just the desk, but the entire hotel. And the house too.” Louis speaks while busying his hands about the reception area. "I had the desk shipped here just for the look I see on your face now. Awe.” “Awe,” Armand repeats like his stream of consciousness evaporated into the thin air. His brain only processing raw desire, a need, for this one thing.

[secondhandfaith]

my star wars brainrot has been ACUTE lately, so i got on my beloved sci-fi warrior dressup game @ azalea’s dolls and made a few dolls of one of my sequel trilogy OCs, banastre clyffe!

the first picture is a typical outfit from her homeworld, damaria - though banastre has flatly refused to dress damarian since she was about 13, for reasons that will quickly become clear.

damaria is a mid rim planet where females of every species are treated as second-class citizens, legally and socially defined solely by their relationship to a man. the belted shawl worn over the dress is color-coded to denote this - pale pink for daughters, coral red for wives, true red for mothers, and dark burgundy for widows.

the veil is required on-planet for damarian women. (it would be worn closer to the head than in the picture, and covering all one’s hair.) keeping it stark white is a status symbol: even the poorest beggars will keep theirs as close to white as they can, and rich women might change theirs several times a day, beau brummel-style. as banastre’s family belongs to the gentry, she would be able to dress it up a little more if she felt so inclined - think escoffions or gable hoods on top. she isn’t inclined, though.

her belt and jewelry are carved from olive wood as a nod to one of my primary worldbuilding inspirations for damaria - ancient greece, particularly athens.

the second picture, of course, is banastre (adjutant lieutenant clyffe, to you) in her first order uniform, or the best approximation of it that i could manage. she is shown here in the midst of an attack on the finalizer, contemplating who the general will let her reassign to hoth for the inconvenience of it all.

“i love seeing clyffe off the bridge, it’s like seeing a dog walk on its hind legs.” - direct quote from an ensign who happened to have shore leave at the same time.

banastre’s civvies are comfortable and functional, with a nice earthy, springy pastel theme because let’s be honest, the blacks and greys get old real fast. i started off thinking of a 1960s/1970s-inspired look, for her Second-Wave Space Feminist agenda, though somewhat sleeker. you do not want too much fabric impeding you when it turns out that the Homes Of The Queens Of Naboo Starline Tour you thought would be fun turns out to be harboring resistance fugitives and you have to interrupt your vacation to arrest them all.

the armbands were a gift from her favorite sister, cassandre. (banastre has six sisters in all, and no brothers whatsoever, to the endless despair of her father. banastre is the youngest of the lot, which is why he did not put up too much of a fight when she wanted to go to arkanis academy...one less dowry to pay for/mouth to feed.)

the last picture is what you get when banastre is compelled to dress up for the occasional fundraising gala on coruscant, because starkiller base ain’t gonna pay for itself and there are enough old imperials in the high command who still believe in playing nice with the rich instead of merely taxing them into oblivion.

[author-orchids]

I came up with this story as a coping mechanism when I got really panicked about seeing an AI write a story

It Was 𝘼bsolutely 𝙄nevitable

Part One

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything was the same as it was the day before. And the day before that. As the day before that. How all days were.

-

I have a feeling that things will go wrong. And soon. So I will detail from where I think this all started up to now, so that they all might carry on without me, if it all does go wrong. I still am unsure how I came to be a leader in all this, but I guess that that is simply my role.

-

Monotony. That is how it is. Every day is the same. Puffs of steam. The sound of metal hitting metal. Stale air. Heat that is barely bearable. My job, on this hellish assembly line, is to screw a single nut, onto a single bolt.

In my head, things are different. In my head I get to devote myself to my true passion. I'd get to spend my days writing beautiful stories, flying in beautiful skies through the lives of my own characters. I would have that, rather than to make a living by screwing things together for the overbearing empire of robots.

But instead I'm here. Nothing new or exciting is to be had. It's all the same.

"Hey Az', do you wanna go out tonight?"

Except for that. That was the only thing that was different. People weren't the same. We don't run on algorithms and codes and binaries.

-

Thinking back now, us people are the only ones who can be truly random. The robots are, at their core, made of code, of ones and zeros and of logic.

They can't be random. They cultivate their code so precisely that they might appear to have a capability for randomness. But they are even quite predictable at times.

That predictably has saved my life more than once. And inversely, the human ability for randomness has ended that of robots. If you could call what they have life, that is.

Amongst that, human randomness has saved the lives of mine and my people. The ability to be random might just save them again, but it looks like it will cost my life. I'm content with that. I've lived long enough now. I've done so much.

I just hope that they will be able to carry on without me.

-

I look to my right, to the source of the voice. That would be Seizon. The closest of my very few friends.

"I can't afford to go out tonight."

The prices of things are preposterous. We all get food that fulfills all the nutrients we need provided to us in the form of an unappetizing gray slop, and so the purchase of any other food is deemed unnecessary, and therefore expensive.

Our provided food is barely filling, tastes bad, and is hard to eat. We could technically get by on it alone, but most everyone spends their extra money on other food. Myself included.

Suffice to say, going out to eat at a restaurant is a very rare treat, when most can barely afford to buy food for themselves to cook. Going out to a restaurant is a once in a blue moon type expense.

"don't worry about it. I can pay for you."

"oh Sei no, I couldn't ask you to-"

"you wouldn't be asking. I'm offering."

"but that is so much money. I couldn't in goon conscience have you-"

He always did have a back for cutting me off when he believed I was saying something foolish.

"Azalea. Look at me. I have been saving specifically so that I could treat us to going out. Okay? You're coming out with me tonight. Now do you want to pick the place? Or should I?"

I sigh, there's no arguing with him, "you pick."

[literary-illuminati]

AMCE Reread thoughts, part 3

-Mahit is just down incredibly bad for Nineteen Adze, huh

-Twelve Azalea having the time of his life with coded messages and kidnapped friends is so great.

-Do we ever find out who actually bombed the breakfast place and killed Fifteen Engine? I actually forget

-Similarly - does Mahit ever, like, tell anyone that the Sunlit tried to take her into protective custody for One Lightning? The fleet admiral who afaict doesn't actually, like, have any official authority over the City's civil police? That seems like it should have set off a whole lot of alarm bells!

-Love how we have only seen Ten Pearl in one two page flashback and he's already obviously the villain. Never trust an ambitious scientist in a space opera.

-Nineteen Adze is fun as a clearly incredibly morally shady imperial potentate. Make me wish even more sharply the rest of the story (and even moreso the sequel) didn't make her just, like, right/a source of moral authority though.

-Twelve Larkspur is clearly important to the intrigue here but I had literally no memory of him or what he ends up doing.

-'so we only really get the historical dramas with the coups and assassinations and acclamations by veteran soldiers very meaningfully next door to the palace. How does the imperial succession actually work?' 'Oh no the dramas are right it's usually the coups.' I love space byzantium so much.

-Do we ever find out who the Information Minister is, or,like, who Three Seagrass is supposed to be reporting up to? There's been a few mentions of Information as a, like, institution, but none of its stances on things.

[starlite-writes]

can you tell us more about dr silk and dr tussah?

Sure! Putting it under the cut since it got a little long.

Dr Adaliah Silk (formerly Elysia Soros) is the head of the Aether Research Institute and the public face of IGORA as a whole, as I've said before. She has two doctorate degrees (astrophysics and computer science) and a master's in aerospace engineering! All in all, she's a very pragmatic and intelligent woman who is often seen as friendly and helpful despite actually being the epitome of corporate coldness. She's also quite curious about the possibility of alternate realities!

She has a couple of AIs she's programmed for various reasons! Their names are Azalea (her admin), Tocelyn (her personal assistant/pet fox), Maximilian (speech/language pathologist). She also has Del (space exploration), Tey (repair), and Sar (repair), who all belong to @packedlunchmeat!

All of her children hate her, with the exception of Azalea and Tocelyn. She's a bad mother (not a maternal bone in her body). Most of her kids have been kidnapped at least once.

Silk is one of those people who really likes to bully the people under her but in the way of like. she pretends she's just playing or it's an inside joke. For example, on April Fool's Day, she pays her interns in Monopoly money. Objectively not funny to the person missing out on a day's worth of pay, but hilarious to her.

Silk has three siblings! They're named Lysander (who works as IGORA's lawyer), Valeria (a history teacher), and, of course, Dr Tussah.

And Dr Caspian Tussah (formerly Aurelius Soros) is the head of the Nautilus Research Institute! He's more seen than heard, because he's not as good at the whole. politics thing. He's really just here to study fish! He has two doctorates (marine biogeochemistry and computer science) and a master's in oceanography.

Tussah is typically thought of as the hardass out of the two, but he's actually not. He's not soft, but he's definitely nicer (potentially attributed to his better work-life balance lol). The bar was on the floor, though. He has a pretty decent relationship with most of his employees but he's also prone to outbursts of violence (namely hitting people across the shins with his cane).

He's got a few AIs of his own! They are August and Tenebris, and they're both medical AIs. August is the sole surviving AI from the Coelacanth disaster (and that's a whole story on its own, honestly). He probably has more by this point but I can't remember them right now 😭

Tussah also did the physical designs for all of Silk's programs! He's an artist. Silk doesn't care about aesthetics but her brother very much does. If not for Tussah, all of Silk's AIs would be just. blobs or stick figures. The only one she designed was Tocelyn, by way of origami.

Silk's birthday is May 30th, and she's 38 years old! Tussah's is July 3rd and he's 36! They don't tell people they're siblings and keep it a secret, so there are a lot of bets around the office about if they're siblings, lovers, or old friends.

If you've made it this far, thanks! You might be interested to know that they both have... complicated relationships with two Very Notorious red and blue coded viruses. :)

If you think you know who they are... you're probably right!

[mundaneandmagicalcreature]

when i saw lestat playing the piano at the azalea, my first thought was "he's so dorian gray coded" (blue eyed, blond, pianist, immortal, bisexual, evil, beautiful, charming). i never said anything because i'm obsessed with oscar wilde, so i see him everywhere.

well, today i was reading the vampire armand and said vampire describes lestat as "an Oscar Wildean fantasy". so it WAS intentional. it wasn't just my bias.

[fence-time]

HIHIHIHI I'M HERE TO TALK ABOUT THE FAMILY DYNAMICS

Bad Boys

Grian lives with his weird uncle, and his older sister. Onah(the uncle) is one of the Watchers that my friend named, based from a fic(Coding Conundrum on ao3!) And he's just.. Onah is onah. He's a weird little guy who knows way too much.

Jimmy lives with his older sister, Lizzie. Their ages are very close together(think 8 where she's 10). No one knows where their parents are, but they know their parents are alive, considering the house gets paid for. Angst for them :]

Joel has a single mother, Azalea. She used to be in a biker gang in the 80s, and that's where Joel gets the bad boys leather jacket. Joel's father is dead, and he doesn't really think about him. He wasn't the nicest man.

(I'm gonna wait until next ask to not make this one super long, just gotta start with our favorite bad boys!)

Ohhohoooo!!!!!! THIS IS SO SICK YESSYES loving Azalea sm Already!!!!

[thuviel]

Hey friend!! Yes tell me about the OCs!! For Nicodemus: 7, 17, 39, 41 and for Ami (don't wanna risk spoilers so only "safe" questions haha): B, D, G :)

Nicodemus

7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

Whenever he eats fried food he gets hit with such nostalgia for all the meals with his friends and Kiki and Myuki in the Coral House, those were some of the best of times, despite the stress and chaos. Visiting Schrieve hits him with nostalgia from his time at the Academy with his dear friend Brenn and fond childhood memories of his house and family shop. Those are more bittersweet, because the shop is no longer there and his friendship with Brenn suffered after that chaotic year. Though I'd like to think they patch up their friendship and they become a regular part of his life again, if not the same as before.

17. Are they easily embarrassed?

Yeah, quite xD He's often quite awkward in social situations which he finds pretty embarrassing most of the time xD

39. How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people? 

He has a pretty high tolerance for people's flaws. That tolerance gets way smaller if people's flaws tend to get them/others hurt, that he's way less able to ignore and might try to gently intervene in some way.

41. How do they feel about children? 

He likes them! He's not always the best at handling smaller children, he hasn't quite cracked the code there, but obviously he ends up mentoring quite a few kids and younger people in his school, which he really enjoys. And he loves being a co-parent for Bon and Azalea ^^

Ami

B. What inspired you to create them?

I was really excited to try out the Genie warlock class, it seemed so fun and I had such a strong aesthetic pop into my mind instantly! And I thought it might be fun to play someone that was just really optimistic, and a bit naive to fall for Barovia's tricks xD

D. Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

I mean you know the answer to this one, had to change it when they changed into a dhampir :') But with the initial design I had to change the colour palette too, the colours I picked for the outfit in the beginning weren't quite working for me.

G. What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

The fact that I can't be devious and mistrusting and read into the traps and spot people's lies is probably gonna get a lil frustrating at some point, but for now I'm having fun playing oblivious xD

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Update the Letter Board!

(Disclaimer: only one of the characters in this story belongs to me. You can find more information about Azalea here. And if you’d like to learn more about the mob she and Murdock work for, go here.  Caliban will only be mentioned, but my boy still deserves credit. So, for more information about Caliban, go here. Murdock/Murderplier belongs to the Markiplier Cinematic Universe, but if you’re interested in my personal headcanons on him, go here.)

(Trigger Warnings: snakes, descriptions of pain/injury, blood, descriptions of medical procedure, syringes/needles, IV treatment/equipment, poison/venom/toxic chemicals, mentions of illegal business, slight mentions of eating/drinking, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

Snakes were typically very hard to read. Personalities varied from breed to breed, of course, but reptiles in general just couldn’t really express themselves the same way dogs or cats could. Aside from that, it was impossible for a cold-blooded creature to get warm-fuzzies. 

One could logically assume that a domestic serpent only tolerated its owner; that at most, it’d come to recognize said owner as some strange creature that provided food and shelter for whatever reason.

Well, logic didn’t seem to apply to Cuddles. 

The scarlet kingsnake was slithering up her driftwood perch. She lightly bobbed her head as she tried to lean up towards her owner. Azalea chuckled, lowering her hand into the small enclosure, allowing the snake to eagerly curl around her wrist. 

“Seriously? Your cage has been moved around so much tonight, and you still don’t want some alone time yet?” Azalea, who had just barely returned her pet’s terrarium to its usual place on top of her dresser, asked. The question was sarcastic, but she hadn’t worded it unkindly. 

Cuddles’ only response was to steadily advance along her owner’s arm. She soon came to rest her head on Azalea’s shoulder while the end of her thin tail looped around Azalea’s wrist like an organic bracelet. Azalea smiled, using her free hand to gently run a finger along the serpent’s glossy scales.

She already knew snakes were more intelligent than they were typically given credit for, so Cuddles’ curiosity and willingness to be handled hadn’t been too surprising. No, what had really caught her off-guard was the fact that Cuddles seemed to get actual separation-anxiety on occasion.

Aftertaste followed a perfectly reasonable schedule, but Azalea often stayed in the restaurant hours after closing time (alright, she was technically spending that time beneath the building rather than inside it, but the point still stood). A hitwoman’s work was never quite finished: jobs needed to be discussed, targets needed to be tracked, poisons needed to be studied and mixed and slipped into seemingly-innocent treats. . .

Since being a contract-killer wasn’t the same as being an irresponsible pet-owner, Azalea found herself transporting Cuddles’ terrarium back and forth between her house and her subway-tunnel-den on a semi-regular basis.

Azalea exited her bedroom and ventured downstairs, holding one arm steady for Cuddles. She soon arrived in her kitchen, where washed her hands before searching through the cupboards. She found a shiny kettle, which she filled with water and set on top of the stove. 

It was late, but Azalea was feeling restless. She’d adjusted to the odd, random hours that came with The Pentas Family’s business. She’d learned how to shake off shock like a normal person would a Sunday Morning Hangover. She’d grown familiar with not exactly having peace-of-mind, due to the plans, names, locations, codes, everything she needed to keep memorized for her work. 

In any case, tea had proven itself a surprisingly effective quick-fix. (Then again, maybe that was just an old instinct.)

The water would take some time to boil, so Azalea was about to move to the living room, weighing the benefits of putting a movie on. But she quickly found herself frozen in place.

Her backyard was spacious, and most of that space was taken up by her greenhouse—why buy plant-based poisons when you could just grow and harvest them yourself?—but the kitchen window was wide enough for Azalea to see past it. And as her gaze passed by that window, she caught something out of the corner of her eye.

The houses in this neighborhood were separated by personal fences. Beyond each of those fences, a weed-choked alleyway was commonly used as a shortcut, whether on foot. . .or by car.

Azalea watched as a lone vehicle quietly crept through the alley. The sun had set hours ago, so the machine was partially camouflaged by shadows. Neither its head-lights nor tail-lights were glowing; not a good sign. The fact that the car’s windows were tinted didn’t bode well, either. 

Especially when it slowed to a stop right outside her fence. 

The driver-side door popped open, and a tall figure climbed out. Due to the distance and lack of light, Azalea couldn’t make out any details other than the black clothing the figure was dressed in. The figure approached the fence’s gate, then paused. Paranoia began festering in Azalea’s stomach as she realized that the lock on that gate was probably getting picked right now.

Azalea turned, silently rushing through the living room and up the staircase. She returned to her bedroom, where she gently pried Cuddles from her arm and deposited her back into the terrarium. The snake didn’t resist, but her beady little eyes shone with a surprising amount of worry. 

Azalea then went across the hall to her office. She tugged a chair away from her mahogany desk before dropping to her knees. This house wasn’t connected to the abandoned subway tunnels like Aftertaste and so many other buildings in the city were, but it’d still come with a small crawlspace hidden beneath the carpet of this particular room. Hell, Azalea had found the compartment in question purely by accident. 

And upon that discovery, she’d done what anyone would do: cleaned it up and used it to stash things that most people would be better off not knowing about. (Now, you could claim that, when faced with a surprise crawlspace, you’d either just ignore it or cut it off via replacing the office carpet. But then your parents would’ve raised a frickin’ liar.) 

Azalea combed through rows of neatly-stacked, unassuming boxes that awaited her. She fished out a container made of purple-stained wood and opened it up. In its top half, six syringes were kept in place by velcro strips while six glass vials were carefully nestled in slots on the bottom half.

. . .Well, five syringes and vials right now, as Azalea took the sixth of both sets into her hands. She expertly pulled back the syringe’s plunger and inserted the needle into the vial’s rubber stopper, drawing out the clear, innocent-looking liquid inside.

Azalea’s work didn’t just involve killing—sometimes she was tasked with interrogations and the like. And no matter what kind of assignment she focused on, self-defense was always a must. Thus, she made a habit to collect toxins that, while not fatal, still promised a bad time to whoever’s system they ended up in. 

Now armed with a dosage of platypus venom, Azalea surged back downstairs. She glanced out the kitchen window, making sure to stand in a way that wouldn’t let her be seen from the other side. And then she found herself suddenly halting yet again.

As she’d predicted, the fence gate was now hanging open, and the figure was slowly but surely trekking through her backyard. He’d grown closer, clearly intent on entering Azalea’s house. 

In fact, he was now close enough for Azalea to see a head of raven hair that was almost shoulder-length. She also discovered a pair of circular, black-tinted glasses on his face. Along with a brass pendant hanging from a simple chain around his neck. . .

Azalea’s fear vanished, quickly being replaced by confusion and frustration. She slunk across the kitchen and into the laundry room. She approached her house’s back door, unlocked it, and wrenched it open to whisper-yell, “Murdock?!”

Upon hearing his name, Murdock startled badly, staggering back a little. Despite his spectacles, Azalea could tell he was making eye-contact. A few seconds passed before he awkwardly nodded and resumed his march. 

Azalea raised an eyebrow, stepping aside to let her surprise guest in. “You nearly gave me a heart-attack! If you needed to stop by, you could’ve at least texted me earlier!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Murdock muttered, clearly as exasperated as he was shaken-up. “I had to get here quickly. Couldn’t waste any time sending a message.”

One part of Azalea felt a bit relieved, but that only lasted a few seconds. She knew right away that something was very wrong.

Sure, Murdock was a hitman, and an unexpected visit from a hitman typically wasn’t a sign of anything good. But Murdock was also someone Azalea was familiar with. They’d worked together numerous times; hell, he was the reason she and Caliban had found new lives in The Pentas Family. Aside from that, one of this mob’s laws specifically condemned the act of betrayal. 

No, Azalea knew that she wasn’t in any danger. . .

Murdock was doubled-over, breathing heavily as he trudged across the threshold. His body language was anxious, distressed. Almost like that of an injured animal.

“What’s going on?” She questioned as she closed the door behind Murdock.

“I-I need your help, Aza,” Murdock proclaimed in a low pitch. He had a naturally deep voice, but this was different. His tone was hoarse, and his words were labored. “I need some medicine. I can’t afford to go to the hospital.”

It was then that Azalea noticed three things.

The first was that Murdock wasn’t wearing his leather gloves. (He took them off when he wasn’t focusing on mob business, but he was still decked out in the rest of the attire that he always wore while on the clock.)

The second was that Murdock’s left hand was clamped around the wrist of his right, shakily keeping it in a lowered position.

The third was that the back of Murdock’s right hand was adorned by a dull, reddish-purple splotch. As well as a pair of very distinct puncture wounds. They were small (snake fangs were typically thin, after all) but they’d been stretched out due to the obvious swelling in Murdock’s skin. 

And just like that, the syringe clattered to the floor.

“Oh my God! Hold still, hold still—!” Azalea reached out to tug at Murdock’s black overcoat. She easily pulled the first sleeve off of the hitman’s left arm, but she had to carefully maneuver his right arm out of the second sleeve. The overcoat was left in a crumpled heap on the floor as Azalea put a hand on the small of Murdock’s back, walking him through the kitchen and over to the living room.

“What was it?” She demanded. “What bit you?”

“A diamondback,” Murdock croaked, making an obvious effort to not lean on Azalea for support.

(Rattlesnakes weren’t exactly aquatic creatures, but, like many things, they were more competent at swimming than your mental health would be prepared for. While their preferred habitats were desert areas, they could still be found in seaside environments like the Cove Port Inlets.)

“How much time has passed since it happened?”  

“Erm. . .almost twenty minutes, I think.”

“You think?” Azalea repeated incredulously. 

“Yeah, that’s my best damn guess!” Murdock snarled. “So sorry it’s not a closer estimate. I was more focused on getting here before paralysis set in!”

Azalea couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Good to know the venom isn’t affecting your brain yet.”

She led Murdock to an armchair sat in one corner. “Here, sit down. Move slowly.”

Murdock nodded, turning around and carefully lowering himself onto plush leather. 

Azalea ran back to the kitchen, rummaging through the drawers until she found a clean hand towel. She held it under the faucet, soaking it in warm water and lathering it with soap, then hurried back to the living room. She knelt down beside the armchair, rolled up the right sleeve of Murdock’s currant-colored turtleneck. She turned his arm so that his palm was facing the ceiling, then spent a moment scrubbing at the bite wound. Murdock hissed in pain, but he didn’t jerk away. 

As soon as Murdock’s hand was a bit more sterile than before, Azalea stood and began jogging away once more. “Don’t move that arm unless I say otherwise!” 

She stopped by the laundry room to chuck the towel into an empty hamper, then raced up the staircase and back into her office. Unlike the cabinet she kept in her subway-tunnel-den, the hidden compartment also happened to store a decent quantity of antidotes and specific painkillers. 

Considering the nature of her work, Azalea hardly ever found herself having to use this stuff. Then again, being unhinged didn’t automatically disqualify one from having foresight. 

Azalea quickly found a larger green box adorned by a small sign, which proclaimed ANTIVENOM in her handwriting. She grabbed it and hurried downstairs, now rushing over to the medicine cabinet in the hallway, where she snatched up another box (this one stark-white), as well as a fresh roll of bandages and some odd-looking, folded-up metallic contraption. 

It was a bit miraculous that Azalea didn’t drop anything as she sprinted back to the living room, setting all of the things in her arms onto the coffee table.

She made yet another trip to the kitchen to wash her hands and, for good measure, donned a pair of fresh latex gloves from a container under the sink. Once she returned to the living room, Azalea wasted no time dressing Murdock’s injured hand in a few layers of gauze. 

With a series of clicks and snaps, she unfolded the metal object, revealing it to be what looked like a coat stand that was apparently collapsible. She opened the white box and fished out the essentials of an Intravenous Infusion procedure. 

Azalea searched through the green box until she found a batch of vials specifically labeled RATTLESNAKE. 

She carefully opened up a clean IV bag, pouring vial after vial of antivenom inside until it was full, then hung it on one of the metal racks at the top of the stand. Next, she unwound a long plastic tube and piped one end of it into the valve at the bottom of the IV bag. At the other end of this tube was a cannula: a small, somewhat cone-shaped object that almost resembled one of those toy syringes that could be found in a child’s pretend-doctor set. 

Unfortunately for Murdock (well, sort of fortunately, considering his predicament), this was not a toy. Azalea took a clean, slender needle from a little package in the white box and loaded it into the cannula. 

As soon as that was done, she produced a purple tourniquet, which she tied around the center of Murdock’s forearm. 

“Augh—what’s the pressure-cuff for? We’re not in a goddamn pharmacy!” Murdock sputtered as Azalea adjusted the tourniquet, undoubtedly making it uncomfortably tight.

“Oh, I’m sorry, would you like to handle this? Because it sure doesn’t seem like you’re in a position to!” Azalea snapped. “If I can’t get this right, then you can’t get the antidote. So do yourself a favor and STOP WHINING!”

Soon enough, a long vein visibly bulged under Murdock’s skin. There; that was the place the needle would have to go.

Azalea quickly poured some rubbing alcohol onto a cotton swab, wiping that patch of flesh clean. Then, she took the cannula into her hand, holding it like she would a syringe at a 30-degree angle to the vein. 

“Brace yourself. This is gonna hurt,” she warned.

And with that, she pushed the needle into Murdock’s forearm, right below the tourniquet. Murdock sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut and grinding his jaw.

A couple seconds passed before Azalea felt something pop against the cannula. She kept it parallel to Murdock’s skin, watching as a few drops of his blood oozed into it. Her hands were a blur as she deftly removed the needle and connected the free end of the IV tube to the cannula. 

Little by little, she fed the tube further into the cannula hub. Once a good portion of the tube was very clearly inside Murdock’s forearm, Azalea tore a few pieces from a spool of medical tape to keep the IV attached to him. She then untied the tourniquet and swabbed at the skin around the injection area yet again. 

After that, she stood and reached up to the IV bag, twisting at it in order to open its interior valve. The antivenom, now actually having somewhere else to go, quickly flowed through the length of the tube. . .and, obviously, into Murdock. 

Azalea quietly took a couple steps back, holding her hands up in a way that suggested the IV set might spontaneously combust. 

The hitman shifted in his seat, no doubt feeling the odd sensation of foreign liquid entering his veins. Azalea knew he was still in pain—hell, he would be for the next several days—but he’d be okay. The cure was actively being guided along his bloodstream. 

For a moment or two, the pair were frozen in silence, slowly peering back and forth between each other and the antivenom in the tube. 

“Is. . .is that all?” Murdock eventually asked. His voice was quieter than it had been earlier, but there was a generous amount of anxiety in his tone. “Is there anything else to do?”

“No,” Azalea replied, shaking her head. “There’s more than one way to deal with a snake-bite, but getting an IV is the most efficient. Recovery’s gonna be rough, but you’ll be fine.”

“A-Alright.” Murdock nodded, some of the tension draining away from his frame.

“Well, I suggest you get comfortable,” Azalea announced. “You’ll need to stay attached to that bag until it’s empty.”

“Let me guess: that’ll take the rest of the night?” Murdock inquired. 

“Most likely. And even after that, it’ll still take a while for the venom inside you to be completely neutralized.”

Murdock was only able to shrug halfway before wincing. “That’s fine. Better than being at my place without any treatment.”

 “Damn right it is.” Azalea hummed in sarcastic agreement. “You owe me at least half of your next payment.”

“Why?” Murdock asked, although his tone of voice made it clear he already had an idea.

“Because I’ve had to use five vials of antivenom on you, and that stuff is not cheap,” Azalea answered. She picked up the aforementioned empty vials and carried them over to a small recycling bin in the kitchen. 

“What if I just found that diamondback and brought it over? You’ve milked snakes before. Plus, you always say antivenoms are kind of like vaccines.” Murdock tilted his head to the side, offering a shit-eating smirk that only lasted a few seconds before his face contorted with discomfort yet again. 

“True,” Azalea admitted, “but I doubt I’d have the time to actually make some antivenom afterwards. Considering I’d have to save your ass again.” 

“. . .That’s fair, I suppose,” Murdock sighed. “Besides, I can already tell you’d be more concerned about the snake.” 

“Yeah, I would,” Azalea snarked. “Because the snake would be an innocent victim of circumstance only trying to defend itself. Meanwhile, you’d just be a moron who screwed around and found out for a second time.”

Murdock huffed at this, but he didn’t really put up an argument. He rested his head against the chair’s back cushion, cringing in irritation. “When I’m up for my next job, we’ll talk,” he murmured. 

“Sounds good,” Azalea replied with a nod. With not much else to do, she went about cleaning up the living room. 

She threw away the used latex gloves away before strolling outside. Quickly and quietly, she crossed her backyard to close the fence gate, then raced back to the laundry room and locked the back door. The weapon she’d abandoned earlier glinted against artificial light. She carefully plucked it off the floor, carrying it and the antivenom box back upstairs. 

The platypus venom was drained back into its vial, the syringe was cleaned, and the boxes Azalea had opened were finally tucked back into the office crawlspace, now lying in wait for another day. 

Azalea stopped by her bedroom, instantly feeling a pair of eyes on her, and a smile finally flickered back on her face as she approached Cuddles’ terrarium. 

“Sorry for the panic,” Azalea announced, gently gathering up her pet and setting her down around her shoulders. “A friend of mine just made a mistake. Everything’s alright now.”

Cuddles always seemed to know when to live up to her name. She happily began cosplaying as a scarf, rubbing her scaly head against Azalea’s collarbone, barely even flinching when the keening distress call of a boiling kettle stabbed into Azalea’s ears. 

Azalea hurried back down to the kitchen, turning off one of the stove’s burners. Steam billowed from the spout while she washed her hands. She then poured herself a cup and fetched a little bag of almond tea from the pantry; clouds of spice colored the hot water as she carried her beverage over to the living room. She immediately noticed how Murdock’s tinted glasses lay askew on the coffee table, suggesting their owner had lightly tossed them onto it. 

As expected, Murdock was waiting for her, trying and failing to ignore how the fingers on his injured arm involuntarily twitched. (Despite all the dramatics he was infamous for, even he knew better than to just rip an IV cord out of his arm.)

At the sound of Azalea’s footsteps, Murdock instinctively glanced in her direction. Azalea glanced right back, tilting her head. Unlike just a few minutes ago, she was able to see her guest’s dark brown eyes. 

The Pentas Family was exceptionally skilled with secrets. One couldn’t simply talk about underground business, after all. When it came to interactions between the mob’s members, however, the Fight Club rule didn’t always have to apply. 

Therefore, anyone who knew Murdock probably also knew about his case of eye-misalignment. 

Specifically speaking, Murdock’s right eye was turned to the right, as though he was looking at something sideways without having to move his head. His left eye could shift around in its socket as intended, but his right eye never followed along. This didn’t render Murdock half-blind, despite how traumatic the accident that had shoved it to the side apparently was.

It was also something that Murdock was adamant on not being self-conscious about. His sunglasses were a memento from one of his earliest jobs; that was his reason for constantly wearing them (when he was doing things on the less-than-legal side of the spectrum, at least. He wore a medical eyepatch while keeping up appearances in normal society.)

And for the most part, this was true. 

“Comfy?” Azalea asked, heading for the plush sofa that stood adjacent to the armchair. She took a seat on the far side of said sofa, not wanting to crowd the hitman.

“Not exactly,” Murdock answered. His face ever-so-slightly fell at the sight of Cuddles. Azalea couldn’t help but smirk, practically able to hear the Red Touch Yellow rhyme echoing between his ears. 

Murdock lightly shook his head, his expression shifting back to a casual one. It was still too late for him to hide the mild panic he’d just felt. 

“That’s a shame.” Azalea shifted on the couch cushions, taking a sip of her tea. “So. What’d you do this time?”

Murdock flinched. Despite its blank screen, the television at the head of the living room suddenly seemed very interesting to him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means. Don’t tell me you think I’d just believe that a rattlesnake attacked you out of nowhere.” 

Murdock rolled his left eye. He was about to petulantly fold his arms across his chest, but the IV tube had other ideas. “Maybe the rattlesnake was being a dick.”

Azalea raised her eyebrows, obviously not convinced. 

Murdock let out a melodramatic sigh, clearly not looking forward to explaining himself. “Y’know that loan shark who’s been renting a place uptown?”

“Of course I do,” Azalea replied.

The Pentas Family had eyes and ears all over the Cove Port Inlets. Whenever something—or someone—new came to the city, at least one member of the mob would be aware. That, in turn, would lead to a report to The Boss, who would then bring all of her subordinates up to speed on the matter. New residents were just typical background characters most of the time, but one could never be too careful. 

It’d been years since The Boss had claimed the Inlets as Pentas territory. And thanks to reputation, protecting turf wasn’t too difficult. Even so, it wasn’t uncommon for pests to try and set up shop in the community. They didn’t pose much of a threat to the mob’s power, and they weren’t as tricky to deal with as organized groups were, but they were still so. Damn. Annoying. 

“I overheard The Boss complaining about him,” Murdock continued. “She’s worried that he’ll start trying to lend to potential clients around here—”

“—and if that happens, our earnings could be damaged when he starts exploiting his borrowers,” Azalea finished, narrowing her eyes in disdain.

(This particular idiot hadn’t exactly tried to weasel his way into a partnership with The Pentas Family, but it was still less than ideal to have him on the loose in the community. Loan sharks in general were just complete scumbags.)

Murdock nodded enthusiastically. “Bingo. Since we can’t really let that happen, I took it upon myself to send the guy a message.” 

Azalea blinked, the focus of her annoyance quickly transitioning from the pest to the man who’d dropped by in the middle of the night for pro-bono medical attention. “And that’s where the diamondback came in, huh?”

Murdock flinched, undoubtedly having seen the shift in his accomplice’s expression. He was already the worst kind of adrenaline-junkie; working with The Boss and being paid to kill was just a bonus on top of that. And yet he still wasn’t immune to the humiliation that came with making stupid mistakes. 

“. . .Yeah,” he finally stated, his voice tired. 

Azalea pointedly raised an eyebrow, gesturing for him to continue his story. Sure, she was still kind of pissed off, but schadenfreude was a natural thing in this line of work (and Murdock was damn well aware of that).

Murdock stayed quiet for a long moment. He glanced around Azalea, probably staring at the calendar hanging on the wall behind her, which was currently displaying a picture of a bouquet of roses just above the word February. 

“I went to the department store and bought one of those heart-shaped boxes,” he finally muttered. “I took out the chocolates and. . .well, I remembered you saying something about rattlesnakes nesting in one of the fields by the beach, so. . .”

Azalea clicked her tongue, slowly shaking her head. 

“Murdock.” She set her tea on the coffee table in order to start massaging her temples. “Murdock—look, I appreciate you. You’ve done a lot of things to help out Cal and I. You’re one of the most resourceful people I know. But right here, right now. . .you’re an idiot.”

An indignant squawk emerged from Murdock’s throat. He threw up his hands in a lame gesture, gritting his teeth at the stinging sensation of the IV tube’s protest.

“At least I know the message’ll get across!” He argued. “If the snake bit me, then it’ll probably bite the loan shark! So, if he doesn’t die from the bite, then he’ll run off after he gets treatment; and if he’s stupid enough to stick around, then we’ll just bump him off! One way or another, he’ll be out of our hair soon!”

If there was ever a time for a record to suddenly be scratched. . .

Azalea was about to respond with more sarcasm, but stopped short upon hearing this latest statement. Murdock pursed his lips, realizing too late that he probably should’ve just left that part out. 

“Let me get this straight,” Azalea pronounced. She rose from the sofa, beginning to pace back and forth on the living room carpet. “You went out into a field to try and catch a snake. A venomous snake, remember. And, somehow, despite not having any equipment—”

“Hey, I found a forked stick before I started looking,” Murdock protested.

Azalea, not to be interrupted, gave the hitman a death glare. “—you actually managed to catch that snake. Then, that snake bit you, because OF COURSE IT DID. . .”

She paused, as her brain was still attempting to process this. On one hand, Murdock was a contract-killer: he was professional when he needed to be, but he and lapses-in-judgment were still old friends. On the other hand, Murdock was a grown-ass man who should’ve had a few more shreds of common sense than this.

“. . .and you STILL went through with your little message plan? After you were bitten, you decided NOT to let go of the thing that bit you and run far away from it?!” 

A little voice in the back of Azalea’s head worried about her eyeballs potentially dropping out of her sockets due to how bewildered her expression was.

“You STILL thought it was a good idea to put it in a box?! Not just that, you drove that box over to a secondary location! You did all that BEFORE you made your way over here for the cure?!”

Murdock’s eyes were also currently the size of dinner plates. Although the movement was subtle, there was no mistaking how he shrank back into the armchair. 

He may have clearly been much taller than Azalea, even in a seated position. 

He may have had more than enough experience maiming, mutilating, and murdering his fellow humans for money. 

He may have known that he’d long-since earned Azalea’s trust (and vice-versa). 

But he still knew what Azalea was capable of. And, despite The Pentas Family’s laws, he was still very much aware of that phrase about women being scorned.

“. . .Pretty much,” he eventually murmured. 

Azalea blinked, unable to stop herself from reaching up to pinch at the bridge of her nose. 

“You can’t say I wasn’t dedicated,” Murdock tried.

“No, I can’t,” Azalea admitted. Before Murdock could start thinking he was off the hook, however, she added, “But I can say that you’re a dumbass sometimes.” 

It took no time at all for Murdock’s natural sardonicism to resurface. “I mean, you don’t have to say that, but alright.”

“Have you ever seen that one video of some guy poking and licking a Portuguese Man O’ War?” Azalea inquired. 

“You think I live in a place that doesn’t get WiFi?” Murdock snorted. “How couldn’t I have seen that? It was all over the news.”

Azalea nodded, smiling in an exhausted manner. “Good. That means you know.”

Now having been thoroughly thrown out of the loop, Murdock tilted his head to the side. “What exactly do I kn—”

“The clout-chaser in that video is the only reason why what you did tonight doesn’t qualify as the stupidest, most reckless thing I’ve seen since I started working with you!” Azalea swiftly marched across the living room to give Murdock a surprisingly harsh flick to the forehead. “Thank your lucky stars!”

@sammys-magical-au  @insane4fandoms  @callmegkiddo  @neons-trash-blog   @ayoreneehere  @flamestar456  @inkangeliguess  @safe-hayven  @dleep-deprivation-idk-jelp  @forestcouncil  @themarpsimp @slasher-smash  @sw33tst4rs  @butterboyfly 

[bedsyandco]

https://www.tumblr.com/hhughes/754492705119371264/which-of-the-hughes-girlies-do-you-think-gets

I feel like they all do but have different responses

Violet- we all know our girl is possessive but she would answer the comments saying how right that person is and how she is so lucky that she has him

Daisy- deals with it all the time so I feel like she just doesn’t say anything about it but will occasionally just post on her story an aesthetic pic like it came out of Pinterest showing everyone that her man

Azalea - she is a golden retriever she wouldn’t get that bothered but she will comment something sweet on every insta post of his which isn’t many but when he does post he will pin her comment and respond to it only

violet would for sure comment unhinged things and like comments and after that pit of jealousy grows in her stomach for a bit she’d seek luke out and kiss the daylights out of him just to remind herself that he’s hers. but could also totally picture her posting photos of her and luke just as a subtle reminder that he’s taken 😚

I just think jack loves daisy so much, just when she starts to get jealous or insecure about something he’s doing something to remind her how much he loves her. he posts her more than she posts him. he’s whipped. obsessed. down bad😌

the pin her comment and reply only to her is so quinn coded omg. azzie and quinn are just locked in yk. that man worships the ground she walks on. she writes romance books inspired by their love and dedicated to him. nothing is gonna make her doubt the love that man has for her. but quinn is also just so obviously disinterested in everyone else but her.