i wrote this for /dum/ so excuse the funny arrow formatting. line breaks are the only way i can manage to write anything substantial but i don't like the aesthetic of greentext arrows without the actual green text. removing it after the fact would be bitch move revisionism, however, so it stays. [external copy]




>he's perfect
>absolutely, all-consumingly perfect
>your azzy
>the love of your life
>laying there on the couch eating pizza, half-watching tv, half-asleep
>today has been amazing. yesterday was amazing too, and you know tomorrow will be even better
>your friends have all been getting a little stir crazy in quarantine, really wanting to go out
>but you don't need to go out, because you have everything you'll ever need right here
>if you spent the rest of your life here, with az, it'd be paradise
>you've got no shortage of things to do, either
>a month or so ago az bought some painting supplies to get into the hobby, and a few days ago he asked if you'd model for him
>staying still was a lot easier than you expected, because you had something to focus on
>him
>his adorable concentrated face, all of his faces are adorable really, but each in their own special way
>his smile is always so earnest and bright it's liable to kill you one day
>when he's embarrassed or pensive, all you want in life is to grab him and hold him and never let him go
>anger, though rare, sets off something in the back of your head that makes your top priority soothing him
>though, really he's always your top priority
>that focused look is what was on his face then, though, and good fucking lord was it captivating
>you could almost follow along with his thought process from the little creases and crumples of his snout and brow
>you wondered, and still wonder, if the same could be done if you looked at anyone long enough, or if monsters were simply more expressive than humans
>maybe it was unique to asriel, that he was a uniquely expressive person, just another point on the long list of things you love about him
>or maybe you're on a wavelength with him, maybe you understand him like no one else can
>maybe that awareness was mutual and he can see right through you, right into your soul, metaphorically and possibly literally
>privacy within your own head is important, it's the one place everyone has to retreat to to be alone, no matter the circumstances
>if someone were to be able to read your mind, however, you'd want it to be him
>someone who wouldn't judge or intrude
>if he were to gaze into your heart, you're confident he'd come out the other end with a smile on his face and a hug at the ready
>he's a saint, an anomaly, the kind of person described in fairy tales, and he loves you
>he's said it, over and over and over again, this avatar of all good in the world cares deeply and uniquely for you
>you
>some schmuck
>it's a little hard to bear sometimes
>but he's always there to sate your insecurities, with a kind word and a warm embrace and his wonderful, wonderful smile
>and that smile is how you know he means every word of it
>you hope he knows you mean every word you say, too
>the painting turned out great
>maybe someone else would see it and think it was amateurish or mediocre, but you saw it as an extension of asriel, and he will never be anything but beautiful to you
>it looked floaty, with light colours and lighter strokes
>like he envisioned you on a cloud, or as a cloud, floating through some symbolic sky
>"I tried to capture something about you I have a hard time putting into words. Do you... do you like it?"
>you loved it
>you ordered a frame for it immediately, and insisted it go up in your bedroom as soon as possible, despite his objections to the tune of "It's not that good!"
>it didn't need to be good, you would've loved it anyway
>that's something else you'd gotten done in quarantine, now that you mention it, you used to have individual bedrooms
>sure, you hadn't spent a night in a different bedroom than him for about a month, but you'd swap between his and yours mostly depending on where you both happened to be when it got late
>now, after a lot of rearranging furniture, you have one bedroom and a sort of miscellaneous activities room
>studio, office, study area, whatever
>that was where he painted you, it's a comfy place
>a desk in the corner, some cushions set up around the floor, an open spot in the middle for painting or exercise or what have you
>it used to be his room, but he seemed set on making yours the shared room, likely for the same reason you were set on his
>his room felt like his space, and he makes you feel calm and happy, so to some extent so did his room
>you could't say no to him, though, not with those pleading eyes
>you honestly don't think it's intentional when he does that, he just
>feels so strongly about something, he feels so strongly about everything
>not even that he's super opinionated, he just
>feels
>it, like everything about him, is beautiful
>you both made pizza today, you were hardly going to order with everything going on >asriel is great at cooking, if the thing you're cooking is a pie
>he says he learned from his mom, and his mom must be one hell of a piemaker >that is, however, the single dish he knows how to make
>it's one of those rare things that remind you he's not an infallible angel come down from the heavens, because he kinda sucks at cooking
>you love what he makes anyway, and even if you were trying to be more objective the end product is never bad, but...
>he has this habit of spilling half of the ingredients onto himself
>or almost slipping on a spot of pasta sauce or milk or something on the floor
>or getting small strands of fluff in the mix, then awkwardly mulling around as you try to fish them out
>or skipping a step and not realising until 5 minutes later
>the usual effortless grace that defines his weightless, smooth movements is absolutely torn from him while cooking
>he jerks about and moves his limbs like a malfunctioning android
>it's endearing in its own right, and usually a little funny
>today’s endeavour went pretty well, at least until he dunked most of the sauce over his chest
>that wasn't so bad either, because you got to help scrub it out of his fur
>running your hands over his chest, kneading into his fluff, was honestly one of the highlights of the day
>with how he pushed back into your hands and chuckled slightly, you're pretty sure he noticed how much you enjoyed it
>you finished making the pizza, eventually, and it was actually pretty good
>light on sauce for obvious reasons, but still
>which brings you to right now, with asriel on the verge of dozing off and you not far behind
>the show on the tv is some new sitcom with a mostly monster main cast
>it isn't very good, but it works well enough as background noise, apart from the occasional screeched catchphrase
>"Hey, Anon? Do you think you'd wake up sore if we both slept on the couch tonight? I don't think I've got it in me to move..."
>you'd offer to carry him, but there’s something appealing about the idea
>huddled up close in an awkward position, propelled to sleep anyway through sheer comfort from holding each other
>yeah, you were probably gonna have a mild backache tomorrow, but it'd be worth it to be romantic
>so you crawl over, lift up the blanket, and rest your head on his chest
>you live for those sweet little noises he makes when you nuzzle into him
>you're almost asleep when you hear him mumble one last thing
>"...I love you..."
>you mumble it right back, and let sleep take you
>you're the luckiest person on the planet