woahh!!

:DDDDDDD

[kyyupidz]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ cupid! / any prns / viet / more info here! (dni, tags, request info, etc.)

masterlist <3

[kyyupidz]

hello ( ⸝⸝•ᴗ•⸝⸝ )੭⁾⁾ i just wanted to say that i love your twst fanfics especially your most recent one with floyd! i love how funny and cute it was and it really brightened my day. i eagerly and patiently wait for whatever you have next (*^^*)♡

WAAHAHHHH AAHHHHHH WAAAAAHHHHHHHHH 😭😭😭😭 THANK YOU SO MUCHHCHCHHHHHHHH 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 this account is the first and only place i post fanfic and writing for an audience still feels new and Nerve-Wracking,,,im super duper extremely really really glad you enjoy my content!!!! 🙏🙏 THANK U SO MUCUUCUCHHCHHHHH

[kyyupidz]

Hey hey :3! Soooo it’s my birthday in acouple days and I was wondering if I could request some x reader content with Floydie. I love him very dearly and would like to spend my birthday with him pls and thank u :}

hey siri: is my boyfriend love-bombing me? (g/n reader x floyd leech)

★ after dating floyd leech for a week, you come to the sickening realization (before your birthday no less!) that floyd leech may or may not be love-bombing you. dammit! well, no relationships stay perfect forever, right? ★ hurt/comfort, preestablished relationship ★ 2.75k words, reader is the ramshackle prefect, reader is called shrimpy, brief ace, deuce, grim, and azul mention, happy birthday user cryptidsandcreepycrawlings! <3

a week ago, you confessed your undying love to floyd leech of octavinelle. 

stupid? maybe. when you brought up the idea to your friends, they pretty much all told you to drop it. ace had called you as senseless as deuce, deuce was too surprised to respond to either of you, and grim had begun shaking even thinking about floyd.

unfortunately for them, all their warnings went through one ear and out the other. what’s the worst he could do? kill you? bring it! you’re not afraid! 

...okay, maybe you were a little scared. when you decided to completely disregard all warning flags and desperate mewls of mercy from grim, you were, admittedly, extremely nervous. you had locked yourself in the bathroom, and while grim clawed at the door trying to stop you, you texted floyd to meet you at the courtyard in the evening.

his response?

nah

…oh. well–

kidding dw ill be there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  wait for me okay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

and that’s how you managed to drag floyd leech out to the courtyard to spill your heart out to him!

…too bad the confession itself was… well… a whole stumble of words. nobody said it was going to be easy confessing to a 191 centimeter eel! you couldn’t even look him in the eyes, you were so scared! at the very least, he had kept quiet the whole time you were word-vomiting, patiently waiting for you to finish.

and when you were done… you had glanced up at him and… and…

he was smiling like crazy. like, maniacal crazy. your heart had practically stopped in your chest when you looked at him, and not because he was pretty, but because you were scared he was going to pull out a scalpel and carve it into your flesh!

…okay, maybe it was because he was pretty. but that’s not the point!

surprisingly, instead of laughing in your face or torturing you or just walking off, he immediately made a grab for you and pulled you into his arms, long arms encircling your torso and crushing the ribs inside to dust. 

“aww, shrimpy! let me give you a big squeeze!” he had squealed excitedly,  “ahaha!~ ain’t you just the cutest? okay, let’s have fun and play together forever and ever!”

admittedly, his acceptance of your feelings was a little creepy and ominous. it didn’t feel like he reciprocated more so that he was chaining you to him and dooming you to be his eternal plaything. but those are just details! what’s important is that he said yes, and now you’re officially dating floyd leech!

and really, it’s been a dream. more than that. he’s everything you wanted. even though grim immediately scampers upstairs into the safety of your shared room when he visits and ace keeps gagging every time you talk about him, he’s perfect. 

when he enters a conversation with someone, he immediately goes on a tangent about how “shrimpy just confessed their feelings to me!” which is quickly followed up by “you better congratulate me or i’m gonna squeeze you.” 

the thought of him showing you off to other people really makes your heart warm! 

and when you initiated the first kiss, a chaste peck on the cheek, he immediately pounced on you and gave you thousands more in turn. your friends are sick of seeing him draped on you and making kissy faces at you all the time, but you wouldn’t have it any other way! 

better yet, he’s been walking you to class every morning and walking you home every afternoon, saying that he just wants to spend a little more time with his favorite shrimpy. he doesn’t always lead you to class like he promises, sometimes dragging you along to skip in his room, but where floyd goes, you follow!

you guys are perfect. at least, you really thought you guys were perfect. but last night, ace had crashed on your couch, and made you rethink your entire relationship.

“are you sure he likes you, prefect?” he had asked you. and you immediately rolled your eyes, prepared for another lecture about how you need to rethink your love life choices.

“stop trying to break us up already,” you replied, swatting his shoulder, “this is why you keep getting collared.”

yet instead of just sighing and letting it go, ace had fallen eerily silent.

“i don’t know, prefect,” he muttered, “what if he suddenly decides you’re not fun anymore and dumps you? you know how he is, with his crazy mood swings. what if you do something he doesn’t like and he decides then and there, ‘it’s over!’”

at the time, you had swatted at him again, scowling.

“floyd would never do that!” you said, “he isn’t like that!”

but now… you aren’t so sure.

you know, it’s awful of you to think this way about your boyfriend! especially when he’s been nothing but kind to you. but you just can’t help yourself, this irrational feeling taking root in your mind and infesting your every thought. 

what if he really is just dating you because he thought it’d be fun in the moment? what if he really does dump you the moment you become boring? oh sevens, is this what they call love-bombing? are you being love-bombed?

you feel a pit forming in your stomach. worst part? tomorrow’s your birthday. your birthday! and you’re spending it stressed and worked up over a hypothetical chance of your boyfriend not liking you. dammit, that’s not fair!

in hopes of at least having a relatively decent birthday, you do everything that you can to put yourself to sleep. warm milk, counting sheep, running around a few times… 

it doesn’t work. you keep tossing and turning and groaning with exasperation.

and when floyd shows up at your door the next morning, you find yourself not overwhelmed with love, but doubt. does he really like you? or is this just one big game to him, where he sees how much fun he can squeeze out of you before you’ve run out of entertainment value? 

is that what this is? a game?

“hey, shrimpy,” floyd says, snapping you out of your thoughts. he’s pouting, clearly displeased that you’re ignoring him. “i’ve been calling your name for like, the past five minutes. what’s got your brain so scrambled today?” 

you smile up at him, standing on your tip-toes to give him his morning kiss. for some reason, it feels wrong. hollow, devoid of any sort of affection. 

…you make sure to give him a few more to make up for it. it makes him giggle and kiss you back. 

“sorry,” you respond back as cheerfully as you can, “it’s nothing, really! guess i stayed up a little too late today.”

…sevens, what are you thinking, doubting your boyfriend? you’re just the worst, aren’t you? he doesn’t deserve that, not after all he’s done for you! someone who doesn’t love you wouldn’t walk you to class every single day. he’s done too much for you to chalk it up to simple love-bombing!

besides, who knows floyd better, ace, or you? obviously, you! you’re his partner! so why are you even bothering listening to ace? ace, of all people?!

you know what floyd’s like. you know that if he’s interested in something, he’ll chase after it for a while before it gets old and he ditches it. but those are things. objects. you do the same thing sometimes, abandoning a book if you start to get tired reading it. but people are a whole different matter. he wouldn’t do that to people, would he? would he ditch a person like that?

no. he wouldn’t! you know he wouldn’t.

…would he?

“hey,” you say suddenly, and he peers down at you curiously. 

“yeah?”

“if… hypothetically,” you start, trying to figure out how to articulate your thoughts, “jade wasn’t cool anymore, would you… abandon him? like, you weren’t having fun anymore with him.”

“if jade wasn’t cool anymore, huh…?” he hums in thought, shoving his hands into his pocket, “...nah. that’d never happen.”

you blink. okay, maybe his brother was a bad example. blood is thicker than water, or something. you can’t say you’re too surprised. 

“really?” you prompt, “not at all?”

“no way,” he shakes his head, “i mean, if he was, i’d totally drag him to the bottom of the ocean and let him get ganged up on by sharks. but i’d never get bored of jade!”

on second thought, maybe blood isn’t thicker than water. you shiver despite yourself. if that’s the treatment jade gets, you’re horrified to even think about what’s going to happen to you. maybe ace was right after all…? 

“why’d ya ask though, shrimpy?” he says, pinching your cheek, “someone got ya thinking that i’m gonna ditch you if you get boring?”

wow. bullseye. you forget how perceptive he can be sometimes. you laugh nervously, dismissing his concerns with a wave of your hand.

“nothing like that,” you say, like a liar, “just thinking.”

yeah. yeah! you’re just overthinking it all. you mentally kick yourself for believing ace’s stupidity once again, and vow to make it up to floyd by being extra sweet and nice and cool. good thoughts, happy thoughts. you’re going to have a good day with your boyfriend and you’re going to celebrate living one more year with absolutely zero negative thoughts! 

(and yet, you still find that nagging “what-if” gnawing at the back of your mind.)

“floyd…” you manage to work up the courage to call out as you both sit in one of the mostro lounge booths. he’s supposed to be on the job, but he decided on a whim to skip and hang out with you. he says it’s more fun being with you than running around taking people’s orders. 

you didn’t know how you felt about that, considering your recent revelations, but you smiled back regardless. after all, doubts or no doubts, he is still your boyfriend. and you want to spend your birthday with the guy you really like! 

“what’s up, shrimpy?” he responds, chewing on your milkshake straw. despite serving it to you, he’s taken it for himself, the thief.

you steel your nerves, drawing in a breath. even though you told yourself earlier this morning that it was all nothing, you couldn’t stop thinking about ace’s words all day. so, you’re going to confront him for the second time today! but not in a roundabout way like before, no no no, you’re going to ask him head-on if he’s gonna leave you if you become a bore! as they say, communication is key, right?

“do you…” you pause, palms suddenly feeling very sweaty, “...like me?”

floyd blinks at you. once… twice…

“are you confessing to me again?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“huh?” you sputter out, “no, no, i’m not confessing to you again, i–”

“awh, shrimpy, i already told you i liked you a week ago! your brain’s been real scrambled today, huh? don’t worry, i know just the way to unscramble it!” 

and with that, he jumps up from his seat and runs off. you can only stare wide-eyed and slack-jawed as he pushes his way towards the mostro lounge kitchen and disappears behind the double doors. 

you thought he’d come back in a few minutes or so, but no. he took until closing. had he done this any day but today, you would’ve let it slide. even before you two were dating, you used to wait for him all the time in this specific booth, waiting for him to finish up. but now…

you just feel bad. like you got stood-up or something. you couldn’t even finish your milkshake, you were so down in the dumps. not that you could’ve anyway, floyd chewed your straw to bits. the downsides of having a boyfriend with sharp teeth, you suppose.

but just when you were about to give up, go home, and text him later that you weren’t feeling well, floyd bursts out from the kitchen and places an absolutely huge ice cream sundae on the table. 

“ta-da!” he beams, sliding into the seat across from you with a grin, “whaddaya think? pretty cool, right?”

you gape at the monstrosity that floyd just laid before you. you’re not even sure what flavor the ice cream is. you think he took a scoop from every single tub the mostro lounge had and threw them all in, though it’s hard to tell by the way he’s drowned the whole thing in sauces and whipped cream. you look closer and spot a brownie and cookie layer completely drowned in the mess of sugar. are those… gummy worms too?

“this is…” you start, then immediately clamp your mouth shut. you’re not sure what he’d do if you told him this is simply too much. 

floyd’s smile only grows. “totally awesome, i know. i’m a cooking prodigy! azul chewed my ear out about it, saying that i’m wasting resources ‘n’ that i should be at the front helping the actual customers, but he let it go eventually. he’s gonna force me on dish-washing duty later, but it’s okay because i did it for shrimpy!”

your heart thumps loudly in your chest, the negative thoughts you were harboring seeming to fade away at his declaration. you can’t help but smile back at him, the way he so eagerly awaits your praise melting your doubts away.

“it is awesome,” you say softly, “you’re awesome. thank you so much.”

floyd seems to practically radiate pride, that maniacal smile you’re all too familiar with on full display. you gaze affectionately at the sharp row of teeth he sports. that’s your man right there!

“look, look,” he presses, “let me show you the best part.”

he turns the sundae around, and lodged haphazardly in between the glass and the sundae are two sugar cookies. 

they look like… you. and floyd. 

the one resembling floyd is messily frosted. there was an obvious attempt to create his signature smile, but it seems like the frosting tip was just a bit too big. and the frosting tip for his hair seems like it was too small, so every strand just looks like well-cooked blue spaghetti. 

but yours is almost identical to you. obviously, he’s taken a few artistic liberties, but compared to floyd’s? yours looks like a professional baker did it. it appears to you that between the time it took for him to make his cookie and the time it took to make yours, he got a rather significant boost in cookie decorating skills. 

“aren’t they cute?” he says happily, “i worked really hard on them, y’know. never knew how hard it was to frost cookies!” 

you gingerly pick your cookie up. the more you look at it, the more you feel your face warm. it’s like you’re falling in love all over again. 

it really does look like you. you wonder how long he had to stare at a picture of you to get it down so well. or maybe he’s got your face memorized so well that he can recall every detail? either way, you feel a flutter in your stomach.

“hey-hey, shrimpy,” floyd calls, “show me your cookie real quick?”

you blink. slowly, you turn the cookie to him, and he smushes the face of his own cookie onto the face of yours. the frosting smears against your fingertips as you gasp at the sudden destruction floyd has caused. 

“look, they’re kissing!” he giggles childishly, unfazed by the hours of his hard work he just disregarded. you stare shocked at the cookie sandwich that floyd has just created. 

he smiles at you, with his sharp teeth and stained uniform, and boops your nose with his finger. “happy birthday shrimpy.”

and then you realize, sevens, how could floyd ever leave you?

“...you know what,” you say breathlessly, “you know what, i think the real floyd should get some love, too.”

you reach over the table to grab him by his collar and pull him in for a kiss. it’s just as calamitous as the cookie kiss, just lips smashing against lips, but you both pull away laughing and red-faced and wholly in love. 

“so?” he prompts, propping himself up on one hand to stare at you, “your brain all fixed up now?”

you smile at him. really smile at him. “yeah. all fixed. thank you, floyd.”

…wait, so, you have to eat this mess of a sundae he created now, right?

note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! not only is this my first request, this is also a BIRTHDAY REQUEST??? oh boy. I REALLY REALLY REALLY HOPE this fic gives you nothing but good blessings and much fortune because by the time i was done writing i realized maybe writing a hurt/comfort fic wasn't the way to go for a birthday present. NONETHELESS i do hope the comfort balanced out the hurt and that the hurt didn't hurt too bad!!! may you receive nothing but the best and may you live to see the next birthday with mr floyd leech himself! <3 <3 <3 <3

[kyyupidz]

TO LOVE UNCONDITIONALLY (g/n reader x ruggie bucchi)

★ ruggie doesn't know why, but he seeks you out when he gets injured. and he doesn't know why, but you let him in knowing who he is and what he's done. ★ fluff(?) ruggie is a little angsty here methinks ★ 2.7k words, reader is the ramshackle prefect, written from ruggie's pov because why not, ruggie is written a bit more melancholic than canon for The Plot

ruggie’s been in fights before. 

too many to count, really. it’s a given, considering his tendency to take anything that seems like it can be repurposed or sold. old habits die hard, he supposes. even if he’s living way better off than how he was a couple years ago, he still feels that itch in his fingers whenever he sees something he can take. it’s never ending, that constant want in his gut for more. it’s a good thing that most of the students on campus are so easily duped. 

most of them, at least. 

ruggie knows he’s agile enough to outrun any spell cast at him. scratch that, ruggie knows he can outrun anything if he tries hard enough. he’s got stamina and determination for days, and simple humans could never outpace a beastman. especially not a hyena beastman. even if ruggie gets caught pickpocketing, it’s just too easy to escape from the scene of the crime. after all, some kids never grew up needing to run like he did.  

but nobody’s perfect, and even ruggie messes up sometimes. really, he’s gotta hand it to those prissy heartslabyul kids with nothing bouncing around in their empty heads besides tea and biscuits, they know how to aim their spells. 

thankfully, the magical properties of the school uniform nullified most of the effects of the spells that hit him. it’s just a shame his face isn’t quite as immune. as luck would have it, one of the fire spells just barely managed to hit him, leaving him with a minor burn on the side of his face. he’s lucky he got away with his life, really. who knows what would’ve happened if it hit him dead on. 

as he sprints through corridors, desperately holding onto the heartslabyul students’ wallets, he briefly considers playing goody-goody later in the year so he can recruit them. it’s really too bad they were aiming their spells at him rather than at a spelldrive disc. their talents would be better utilized on the field. 

leona would probably be pissed he brought along heartslabyul students, but in the end he would begrudgingly acknowledge their potential. and when he realizes what great players ruggie brought, he’ll toss some of his princely dollar bills ruggie’s way as a thank you, and ruggie can treat himself to a hard-earned meal. 

yet even as the prospect of securing a dinner lies tantalizing before him, the throbbing pain of the burn on his face snaps him out of it.

maybe he should be getting used to burns by now, considering all the times he’s accidentally been blasted with a fireball in the countless spelldrive training matches in savanaclaw, but what can he say? he’s a sensitive hyena.  

ruggie takes a moment to glance behind him. the corridor is empty. those heartslabyul kids seem to have given up on trying to trail him. 

he takes a moment to slow down and catch his breath. 

he’s not dumb. now is no time for rest. ruggie knows that at this very moment, he should go to the infirmary as soon as possible. or maybe his dorm instead, to ensure that those heartslabyul kids won’t find him and try to start something again. who cares if the sweltering heat of savanaclaw irritates his injury? at least he’d be safe.  

yet as he begins his trek to the hall of mirrors, he hesitates. stops again. glances around. and decides to make a detour to your place instead. 

stupid, he knows. but his feet seem to have a mind of its own, dragging him to you rather than back to his room. 

nobody would go looking for him at your place, he rationalizes, it’s safe. it wouldn’t aggravate his burns like savanaclaw would. 

most importantly though, there’s you there. and ruggie, the greedy hyena he is, would endure any pain if it meant a singular second longer with you. your presence is, admittedly, compensation enough for the troubles he has to face.

but the rational part of him doesn’t want to drag you into his problems. what if they do come looking for him at yours? you’re a stupid bleeding heart, and considering your track record for playing savior, he doesn’t doubt that you’d immediately try to help him. if he makes you take care of him, makes you deal with his own situations, then he owes you one. and if there’s anything he wants to avoid most, it’s owing people. 

and he absolutely cannot owe you, of all people, anything, lest he fall into madness trying to figure out the unsolvable problem of how to pay back someone who deserves something far more than what he can provide. what can ruggie bucchi offer you that matches anything you’ve done for him? honestly, he shivers to think about what sort of repentance would be enough for you. 

you’d probably tell him that you don’t need some sort of thank-you gift, and that’d make him go crazy. usually, he’d praise those people to heaven and back, grateful to keep his money and his time. but with you, he feels like he’s tearing his own hair out in frustration. just take his damn gifts of gratitude! 

but even as his brain tells him to turn right back around and go back to the hall of mirrors, he finds himself at your doorstep. he hesitates a little before pocketing the wallets and knocking. 

...now that he thinks about it, do you even have proper first aid equipment?

“ruggie?” you say as you open the door, interrupting his thoughts. your expression morphs from being confused to being worried. he feels like an insect under a microscope when your eyes flick to the rather prominent burn on his face.

“had a little run-in,” he laughs. the sound isn’t as smooth as he thought it’d be, and it only seems to make you frown even more. “can i, uh, y’know, crash on your couch real quick?”

he probably looks like a stray dog, begging for scraps at your doorstep. do you think he’s pitiful? is he someone to be pitied?

your eyes soften. “like i’d say no. come in.”

you step aside, allowing him access into your home. it’s funny, the way the outside is so rundown, but the inside is perfectly cozy. for some reason, you personally put in the effort into transforming an old house clearly falling apart at the seams into something somewhat decent looking. 

ruggie doesn’t really understand why you bothered. it isn’t your responsibility to take on the burden. if it were him, he would’ve just let someone else do it.

doesn’t mean he’s not a fan of your furniture choices though. you suggest he go sit on the couch and he practically collapses onto it. his ears pick up the sound of you running water and opening cabinets. probably looking for first aid. good to know you do, in fact, possess medical supplies. 

you scurry over to where he’s sprawled on your couch and hand him a cool, wet cloth.

“thanks,” he grins, sighing with relief as he presses it against the burn, “you’re too good to me, you know that? you okay with having me in your house like this?”

(are you okay with having me at all? are you okay with me?)

“of course i am,” you say with a huff, placing the kit on a nearby table, “why wouldn’t i be?” 

ruggie blinks. he can think of a multitude of reasons why you wouldn’t want him in your space.

“if someone who stole from me came up to me asking for help, i wouldn’t just, y’know, let them in with a smile and be like, ‘sure, why don’t you put your feet up on my couch, even!’” he says. with a more rueful sigh, adds on, “man, you’re just too nice for this school. ya gotta learn that not everyone has your best interests at heart.”

you roll your eyes playfully. clearly, it’s not the first time someone’s told you to be more alert. it surely isn’t ruggie’s first time telling you to watch your back. at this point, he’s pretty sure the information just goes in one ear and out the other.

why do you care so much? actually, scratch that, why don’t you care at all?

“you didn’t steal from me, you stole from grim,” you quip back, popping open the lid of the first aid kit, “so technically, you haven’t wronged me just yet. at least not enough to warrant me shutting the door in your face. anyways, i’ll let you know, i’ve been extremely, super-duper careful. haven’t gotten into a sticky situation in a week now.”

“...hate to be the one to break it to you, but most people don’t get into ‘sticky situations’ like overblots ever.”

you burst out into laughter, and the sound is just as soothing as the cool press of the cloth against his raw skin. maybe you do possess some sort of magical prowess after all, the way you make all aches dissipate into thin air. 

no, that’s not it. no amount of healing magic could hold a candle to how your smile heals his soul.

“ya know what,” he says with a smile, sitting up as you grab ointment, “i won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. if you’re offering oh-so politely to give me medical care for free, well, just who am i to refuse?”

“honest as always, huh?” you smile back. you gently pull ruggie’s hand away to apply ointment to the burn, and ruggie’s heart rate spikes. when you grip his chin so you can be more precise, he’s almost certain that you can feel the way his face heats up. 

he could’ve done it himself. but you just took it upon yourself to do it for him like the goody-two-shoes you are. what a savior. 

ruggie’s learned that in the real world, the only person he can rely on is himself. when he got hurt and scraped up, the only person that could help was him and him alone. but with you, he’s reminded of how his grammy used to kneel in front of him and kiss the cuts on his hands better. he’s reminded of that feeling of having somebody else take care of him for once. 

it’s nice. being here with you. letting you take care of him. really nice. 

you’re nice. 

ruggie can’t help but stare at your concentrated expression as you carefully dab at the raw skin. can’t help but stare at the furrow of your brow, the way your eyes squint slightly, the way you bite the bottom of your lip. how would you react if he told you the reason why he got burned was because he nabbed the wallets off some poor heartslabyul kids? how would you react if he told you, yet again, that he’s stolen something?

you probably wouldn’t care. you probably already know the reason why he got hurt was because of some nefarious act of greed. the thought that that’s what you think of him, someone who perpetually lies and steals, is a heavy one, but nonetheless true. 

but you still sit here and treat his wounds. you, who is possibly the very definition of an angel, treat the wounds of a thief without a moment’s hesitation. you and your stupid bleeding heart.

why?

“does it hurt?” you ask softly, pulling away. ruggie can’t help but try to chase after your touch like the greedy hyena he is. begging for more than what he’s allowed like he always does.

“‘course not,” he snickers, “who do you think i am? it’s gonna take a lot more than a little cream to get my hair standing on end.”

“of course,” you roll your eyes again with a smile, procuring gauze from your first aid kit, “shouldn’t have asked. you’re the most resilient student i’ve ever met.”

ruggie’s shoulders shake as he laughs, a hand coming to his mouth to partially hide the ever-familiar grin on his face.

“resilient, huh?” he says, “that’s definitely one way to put it.”

you reach out once more, cradling his face and covering the burn with gauze. you treat him like some sort of precious object. what a stark contrast to him being thrown against the floor only hours prior.  

does he deserve this genuine kindness from you? maybe not. but when has the concept of “deserving something” ever stopped ruggie? 

“and… there,” you breathe a sigh of relief, a proud smile working its way to your face as you gaze upon your incredible work of medical genius, “good as new!”

ruggie’s fingers reach up to gently brush against the gauze. he feels like he’s just cheated you of your time, medical supplies, and energy. 

…he hopes you can forgive him, because he doesn’t feel a lick of regret. 

(what can he say? he never said he was ashamed of being a thief.)

“thanks,” he says, “you’re surprisingly good with first aid. must’ve had to open up the kit a lot recently, huh?”

“you know it,” you sigh dramatically, closing the kit with a click! “you’d think after the third time, something would change! but nope, i’m still getting thrown around like a ragdoll left and right.”

you seem to realize something, and inquisitively tilt your head towards him. “now that i think about it, why’d you come here instead of the nurse? they could’ve healed you up in a second of what it took for me to bandage you.”

“you’re asking that now?” ruggie asks, “man, you really are too trusting. i could almost mistake you for kalim.”

“very funny. so?”

ruggie hums, pretending to be lost in thought.

“...i’m used to doing it this way,” is what he settles on. kicking up the dramatics, he sighs and places a hand on his heart. “back home, there weren’t many people who could do fancy-schmancy healing magic, y’know? so this is more familiar.”

“liar,” you accuse immediately, “you could’ve just done it yourself then.”

“i wasn’t lying! and anyways, fine, i guess i just wanted to leech off you, then.”

“hey!”

ruggie laughs again, leaning back on the couch as you giggle along with him. 

“okay, okay,” he relents, “you want an honest answer from lil’ ol’ me? i like being doted on. y’know, i’m always being run so ragged by leona all the time, i can’t do all the work myself. why should i when i could come here and get you to take care of me and serve me delicious snacks?”

you gasp in mock offense. “is that all i am to you? free help and food?”

“and free couches!”

okay, yeah. maybe he’s not being entirely honest. even though it is true he likes being doted on. having grandmas serve you biscuits whenever you feign sickness was always pretty nice. but when you dote on him, it’s just… well.. 

you make him feel like he’s worth more than he actually is.

but when you laugh with him and swat at his shoulder, he thinks that you probably don’t need to know all that. 

“...thanks again,” he smiles, “is it okay if i stay a little longer? i don’t feel like walking all the way back to my dorm.”

“duh!” you say immediately. the way you don’t even hesitate, the way you don’t think twice about having ruggie in your home, in the space you so carefully curated, it makes him feel butterflies in his stomach. 

you don’t mind if he stays. you don’t mind letting someone so obviously beneath you take up space in your home and use up your supplies. you don’t mind keeping a lowly thief. 

…you really are too trusting.

“wait,” you tell him, “let me go get you a drink or something.”

“there’s the free food part. been waiting for you to pull that out!”

“hey, don’t test me! or i’m gonna feed you grim’s cat food!”

note: hey guys... GULP. i know i said the next fic would be a deuce fic but WHHEHEEEWW i underestimated how much school would be a pain and how much i'd have to write!! the slow burn really is slowly burning. Sorry if the plot kind of doesn't know its own identity i just wrote this because i wanted to write for ruggie and thats all that really matters right..............

[kyyupidz]

TO LOVE UNCONDITIONALLY (g/n reader x ruggie bucchi)

★ ruggie doesn't know why, but he seeks you out when he gets injured. and he doesn't know why, but you let him in knowing who he is and what he's done. ★ fluff(?) ruggie is a little angsty here methinks ★ 2.7k words, reader is the ramshackle prefect, written from ruggie's pov because why not, ruggie is written a bit more melancholic than canon for The Plot

ruggie’s been in fights before. 

too many to count, really. it’s a given, considering his tendency to take anything that seems like it can be repurposed or sold. old habits die hard, he supposes. even if he’s living way better off than how he was a couple years ago, he still feels that itch in his fingers whenever he sees something he can take. it’s never ending, that constant want in his gut for more. it’s a good thing that most of the students on campus are so easily duped. 

most of them, at least. 

ruggie knows he’s agile enough to outrun any spell cast at him. scratch that, ruggie knows he can outrun anything if he tries hard enough. he’s got stamina and determination for days, and simple humans could never outpace a beastman. especially not a hyena beastman. even if ruggie gets caught pickpocketing, it’s just too easy to escape from the scene of the crime. after all, some kids never grew up needing to run like he did.  

but nobody’s perfect, and even ruggie messes up sometimes. really, he’s gotta hand it to those prissy heartslabyul kids with nothing bouncing around in their empty heads besides tea and biscuits, they know how to aim their spells. 

thankfully, the magical properties of the school uniform nullified most of the effects of the spells that hit him. it’s just a shame his face isn’t quite as immune. as luck would have it, one of the fire spells just barely managed to hit him, leaving him with a minor burn on the side of his face. he’s lucky he got away with his life, really. who knows what would’ve happened if it hit him dead on. 

as he sprints through corridors, desperately holding onto the heartslabyul students’ wallets, he briefly considers playing goody-goody later in the year so he can recruit them. it’s really too bad they were aiming their spells at him rather than at a spelldrive disc. their talents would be better utilized on the field. 

leona would probably be pissed he brought along heartslabyul students, but in the end he would begrudgingly acknowledge their potential. and when he realizes what great players ruggie brought, he’ll toss some of his princely dollar bills ruggie’s way as a thank you, and ruggie can treat himself to a hard-earned meal. 

yet even as the prospect of securing a dinner lies tantalizing before him, the throbbing pain of the burn on his face snaps him out of it.

maybe he should be getting used to burns by now, considering all the times he’s accidentally been blasted with a fireball in the countless spelldrive training matches in savanaclaw, but what can he say? he’s a sensitive hyena.  

ruggie takes a moment to glance behind him. the corridor is empty. those heartslabyul kids seem to have given up on trying to trail him. 

he takes a moment to slow down and catch his breath. 

he’s not dumb. now is no time for rest. ruggie knows that at this very moment, he should go to the infirmary as soon as possible. or maybe his dorm instead, to ensure that those heartslabyul kids won’t find him and try to start something again. who cares if the sweltering heat of savanaclaw irritates his injury? at least he’d be safe.  

yet as he begins his trek to the hall of mirrors, he hesitates. stops again. glances around. and decides to make a detour to your place instead. 

stupid, he knows. but his feet seem to have a mind of its own, dragging him to you rather than back to his room. 

nobody would go looking for him at your place, he rationalizes, it’s safe. it wouldn’t aggravate his burns like savanaclaw would. 

most importantly though, there’s you there. and ruggie, the greedy hyena he is, would endure any pain if it meant a singular second longer with you. your presence is, admittedly, compensation enough for the troubles he has to face.

but the rational part of him doesn’t want to drag you into his problems. what if they do come looking for him at yours? you’re a stupid bleeding heart, and considering your track record for playing savior, he doesn’t doubt that you’d immediately try to help him. if he makes you take care of him, makes you deal with his own situations, then he owes you one. and if there’s anything he wants to avoid most, it’s owing people. 

and he absolutely cannot owe you, of all people, anything, lest he fall into madness trying to figure out the unsolvable problem of how to pay back someone who deserves something far more than what he can provide. what can ruggie bucchi offer you that matches anything you’ve done for him? honestly, he shivers to think about what sort of repentance would be enough for you. 

you’d probably tell him that you don’t need some sort of thank-you gift, and that’d make him go crazy. usually, he’d praise those people to heaven and back, grateful to keep his money and his time. but with you, he feels like he’s tearing his own hair out in frustration. just take his damn gifts of gratitude! 

but even as his brain tells him to turn right back around and go back to the hall of mirrors, he finds himself at your doorstep. he hesitates a little before pocketing the wallets and knocking. 

...now that he thinks about it, do you even have proper first aid equipment?

“ruggie?” you say as you open the door, interrupting his thoughts. your expression morphs from being confused to being worried. he feels like an insect under a microscope when your eyes flick to the rather prominent burn on his face.

“had a little run-in,” he laughs. the sound isn’t as smooth as he thought it’d be, and it only seems to make you frown even more. “can i, uh, y’know, crash on your couch real quick?”

he probably looks like a stray dog, begging for scraps at your doorstep. do you think he’s pitiful? is he someone to be pitied?

your eyes soften. “like i’d say no. come in.”

you step aside, allowing him access into your home. it’s funny, the way the outside is so rundown, but the inside is perfectly cozy. for some reason, you personally put in the effort into transforming an old house clearly falling apart at the seams into something somewhat decent looking. 

ruggie doesn’t really understand why you bothered. it isn’t your responsibility to take on the burden. if it were him, he would’ve just let someone else do it.

doesn’t mean he’s not a fan of your furniture choices though. you suggest he go sit on the couch and he practically collapses onto it. his ears pick up the sound of you running water and opening cabinets. probably looking for first aid. good to know you do, in fact, possess medical supplies. 

you scurry over to where he’s sprawled on your couch and hand him a cool, wet cloth.

“thanks,” he grins, sighing with relief as he presses it against the burn, “you’re too good to me, you know that? you okay with having me in your house like this?”

(are you okay with having me at all? are you okay with me?)

“of course i am,” you say with a huff, placing the kit on a nearby table, “why wouldn’t i be?” 

ruggie blinks. he can think of a multitude of reasons why you wouldn’t want him in your space.

“if someone who stole from me came up to me asking for help, i wouldn’t just, y’know, let them in with a smile and be like, ‘sure, why don’t you put your feet up on my couch, even!’” he says. with a more rueful sigh, adds on, “man, you’re just too nice for this school. ya gotta learn that not everyone has your best interests at heart.”

you roll your eyes playfully. clearly, it’s not the first time someone’s told you to be more alert. it surely isn’t ruggie’s first time telling you to watch your back. at this point, he’s pretty sure the information just goes in one ear and out the other.

why do you care so much? actually, scratch that, why don’t you care at all?

“you didn’t steal from me, you stole from grim,” you quip back, popping open the lid of the first aid kit, “so technically, you haven’t wronged me just yet. at least not enough to warrant me shutting the door in your face. anyways, i’ll let you know, i’ve been extremely, super-duper careful. haven’t gotten into a sticky situation in a week now.”

“...hate to be the one to break it to you, but most people don’t get into ‘sticky situations’ like overblots ever.”

you burst out into laughter, and the sound is just as soothing as the cool press of the cloth against his raw skin. maybe you do possess some sort of magical prowess after all, the way you make all aches dissipate into thin air. 

no, that’s not it. no amount of healing magic could hold a candle to how your smile heals his soul.

“ya know what,” he says with a smile, sitting up as you grab ointment, “i won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. if you’re offering oh-so politely to give me medical care for free, well, just who am i to refuse?”

“honest as always, huh?” you smile back. you gently pull ruggie’s hand away to apply ointment to the burn, and ruggie’s heart rate spikes. when you grip his chin so you can be more precise, he’s almost certain that you can feel the way his face heats up. 

he could’ve done it himself. but you just took it upon yourself to do it for him like the goody-two-shoes you are. what a savior. 

ruggie’s learned that in the real world, the only person he can rely on is himself. when he got hurt and scraped up, the only person that could help was him and him alone. but with you, he’s reminded of how his grammy used to kneel in front of him and kiss the cuts on his hands better. he’s reminded of that feeling of having somebody else take care of him for once. 

it’s nice. being here with you. letting you take care of him. really nice. 

you’re nice. 

ruggie can’t help but stare at your concentrated expression as you carefully dab at the raw skin. can’t help but stare at the furrow of your brow, the way your eyes squint slightly, the way you bite the bottom of your lip. how would you react if he told you the reason why he got burned was because he nabbed the wallets off some poor heartslabyul kids? how would you react if he told you, yet again, that he’s stolen something?

you probably wouldn’t care. you probably already know the reason why he got hurt was because of some nefarious act of greed. the thought that that’s what you think of him, someone who perpetually lies and steals, is a heavy one, but nonetheless true. 

but you still sit here and treat his wounds. you, who is possibly the very definition of an angel, treat the wounds of a thief without a moment’s hesitation. you and your stupid bleeding heart.

why?

“does it hurt?” you ask softly, pulling away. ruggie can’t help but try to chase after your touch like the greedy hyena he is. begging for more than what he’s allowed like he always does.

“‘course not,” he snickers, “who do you think i am? it’s gonna take a lot more than a little cream to get my hair standing on end.”

“of course,” you roll your eyes again with a smile, procuring gauze from your first aid kit, “shouldn’t have asked. you’re the most resilient student i’ve ever met.”

ruggie’s shoulders shake as he laughs, a hand coming to his mouth to partially hide the ever-familiar grin on his face.

“resilient, huh?” he says, “that’s definitely one way to put it.”

you reach out once more, cradling his face and covering the burn with gauze. you treat him like some sort of precious object. what a stark contrast to him being thrown against the floor only hours prior.  

does he deserve this genuine kindness from you? maybe not. but when has the concept of “deserving something” ever stopped ruggie? 

“and… there,” you breathe a sigh of relief, a proud smile working its way to your face as you gaze upon your incredible work of medical genius, “good as new!”

ruggie’s fingers reach up to gently brush against the gauze. he feels like he’s just cheated you of your time, medical supplies, and energy. 

…he hopes you can forgive him, because he doesn’t feel a lick of regret. 

(what can he say? he never said he was ashamed of being a thief.)

“thanks,” he says, “you’re surprisingly good with first aid. must’ve had to open up the kit a lot recently, huh?”

“you know it,” you sigh dramatically, closing the kit with a click! “you’d think after the third time, something would change! but nope, i’m still getting thrown around like a ragdoll left and right.”

you seem to realize something, and inquisitively tilt your head towards him. “now that i think about it, why’d you come here instead of the nurse? they could’ve healed you up in a second of what it took for me to bandage you.”

“you’re asking that now?” ruggie asks, “man, you really are too trusting. i could almost mistake you for kalim.”

“very funny. so?”

ruggie hums, pretending to be lost in thought.

“...i’m used to doing it this way,” is what he settles on. kicking up the dramatics, he sighs and places a hand on his heart. “back home, there weren’t many people who could do fancy-schmancy healing magic, y’know? so this is more familiar.”

“liar,” you accuse immediately, “you could’ve just done it yourself then.”

“i wasn’t lying! and anyways, fine, i guess i just wanted to leech off you, then.”

“hey!”

ruggie laughs again, leaning back on the couch as you giggle along with him. 

“okay, okay,” he relents, “you want an honest answer from lil’ ol’ me? i like being doted on. y’know, i’m always being run so ragged by leona all the time, i can’t do all the work myself. why should i when i could come here and get you to take care of me and serve me delicious snacks?”

you gasp in mock offense. “is that all i am to you? free help and food?”

“and free couches!”

okay, yeah. maybe he’s not being entirely honest. even though it is true he likes being doted on. having grandmas serve you biscuits whenever you feign sickness was always pretty nice. but when you dote on him, it’s just… well.. 

you make him feel like he’s worth more than he actually is.

but when you laugh with him and swat at his shoulder, he thinks that you probably don’t need to know all that. 

“...thanks again,” he smiles, “is it okay if i stay a little longer? i don’t feel like walking all the way back to my dorm.”

“duh!” you say immediately. the way you don’t even hesitate, the way you don’t think twice about having ruggie in your home, in the space you so carefully curated, it makes him feel butterflies in his stomach. 

you don’t mind if he stays. you don’t mind letting someone so obviously beneath you take up space in your home and use up your supplies. you don’t mind keeping a lowly thief. 

…you really are too trusting.

“wait,” you tell him, “let me go get you a drink or something.”

“there’s the free food part. been waiting for you to pull that out!”

“hey, don’t test me! or i’m gonna feed you grim’s cat food!”

note: hey guys... GULP. i know i said the next fic would be a deuce fic but WHHEHEEEWW i underestimated how much school would be a pain and how much i'd have to write!! the slow burn really is slowly burning. Sorry if the plot kind of doesn't know its own identity i just wrote this because i wanted to write for ruggie and thats all that really matters right..............

[daosies]

all the wrongs (make a right)

when you ask them to set you up with someone else.

or at least, that's what they interpreted it as.

wanderer, wriothesley, diluc ♡ gn!reader

warnings: diluc may be ooc (but he's funny), yapping

notes: WRIOTHESLEY... THE MAN U ARE...

you like someone else.

wanderer doesn't know how to deal with that fact—because of course you do. why would you ever love someone like him, anyway? who is he to even consider love, when he has none of it to give?

when he was created, love built him fiber by fiber. love constructed his eyes, love blessed him with sight and touch, love allowed him to perceive. because in this world, perception is the basis of love, and when wanderer was allowed to perceive, he was allowed to love.

he had love. lots of it, even. there was so much love in his being that it spilled from his eyes, dancing across the oasis of his irises and manifesting into stars. when the wanderer was created, he was ready to be loved, he was ready to love.

and then he was discarded—with all his love—because he was not enough.

(he wonders what it would take for him to be kept. for someone to cherish him despite his artificial limbs, his heartless chest.)

(he wonders what it would be like if he were cherished, even for just a little bit, by you.)

from across the lecture hall, wanderer stares at your figure. his eyes, which once manifested stars and dripped with love, trace over the bridge of your nose and the curl of your lips. wanderer stares at you, basking in the mundane, romanticizing the ordinary because for some reason, under the lights, you look ethereal.

(he would rather die than admit that outloud.)

he stares and stares, oblivious to the fact that stars have reappeared, that they begin to scatter across his irises like a mosaic of love. because the wanderer is unlike himself when it comes to you—he's enamored, he's taken, he's smitten.

when you blink, his chest throbs, and the nothingness in between his ribs becomes something—something akin to a heart, maybe—because you turn nothingness into everything, and all of a sudden wanderer feels a buzz in his chest. if he stares at you long enough, the buzz begins to sound like this: thump-thump, thump-thump.

suddenly, you turn to look at him.

his breath hitches.

you smile, and his heart aches.

then you look away. as if none of it mattered to you, as if your smile were a simple little thing, as if your eyes and your attention were meaningless.

but none of it is ever meaningless, because when he's in your presence, and when he has just a mere wisp of your existence, the wanderer breathes. he does not need to breathe (like humans do)—but when you look at him, your gaze sweeping over him like a golden light, he becomes human.

his humanity manifests in the form of a stolen breath, stagnating in his synthetic lungs in order to catch you for just a second. to adore you, within him, for but a moment.

when you meet up with him after class, wanderer feels his stomach churn (like humans feel). he feels something crawl up his throat—disgust, probably—when you look at him with those oh-so pretty eyes of yours, and when you talk to him with that oh-so pretty voice of yours.

(what has he been reduced to?)

"sorry to make you do this, wanderer!" you exclaim, bashful. "you really don't have to help me talk to him! just let me know if you don't want to, okay?"

earlier, you had asked him to help set you up with some nobody. something along the lines of, "i need my thesis project approved" or whatever, but wanderer knows mortals.

he knows that they have ulterior motives in everything they do, and the way your gaze averted from his and the way you fiddled nervously with your fingers when asking him for help was enough for him to deduce: you liked the person you were meeting up with.

"i mean—" you suddenly add, trying to fill in the awkward silence that's caused by wanderer's frustration, "he's a really scary guy, so i get it!"

"hah," he replies bitterly. "scary? yeah, right."

because what could be scarier than him? a puppet whose previous incarnations committed deeds of mass destruction, a puppet whose previous incarnations still exist with him in the present.

wanderer's past incarnations come in the form of hatred, and hatred festers all across his bones and makes its way onto his expression as he stares at you with longing. because wanderer wants you—and what would it take for you to want him back? what would he have to do, to have a mere fraction of your existence?

(but the hatred within his being grows larger. it takes over his ribs and his skin, because wanderer is a disgusting product of his previous incarnations, and his previous incarnations would never be satisfied with a mere fraction of you. his previous incarnations—and him—want all of you.)

"he really is, though! everyone in the akademiya fears him 'cause he always rejects their thesis projects—i mean, i'm scared too, but if you're there then maybe it won't be so bad!" you explain, waving your hands around for emphasis. the wanderer latches onto the fact that you need him there, that you want him to be there for the sake of comfort.

he thinks bitterly to himself: you're the only one who'd find comfort in me. and there you go again, your attention leaping beyond him, traveling towards greater heights that he will never, ever be able to catch up with. because one thing about mortals is that they are fickle, they are fleeting and they are dangerous, not to him—never him—but to each other.

one thing about mortals is that, in the face of love, they will do anything. they will look back for a brief second and lose it all, just for a glimpse of what could've been. one thing about mortals is that they'll do anything, everything for the person they love, all because it makes them happy.

as he trails after you, observing the back of your head with all the bitterness he can muster—none, when it comes to you—wanderer sighs.

(what has he been reduced to?)

you lead him towards a large door, and wanderer's chest stutters. he realizes that you're headed straight towards the grand sage's office, where many akademiya students loathe to be. but there are some outliers who want to enter that office, who want to exist inside of it because of the sage himself.

(something along the lines of the grand sage being attractive or whatnot. wanderer doesn't know, and frankly, he doesn't care. unless it comes to you, of course.)

what was his name again? wanderer thinks. but he doesn't have time to mull over the details because he just can't let you go there—wanderer doesn't want you to leave him behind those grand oak doors, left to exist with himself when you're just across from him.

he's always been star-far from you, perpetually longing to reach out and catch even a wisp of your light. and now that opportunity irrevocably close.

wanderer is going to seize a star; he's going to grasp your radiating atmosphere, let himself get pulled in by your gravity, and he's going to rest there forever and ever.

his hand reaches for your wrist, stopping you just before you reach the doors of doom.

(what has he been reduced to?)

"don't go," wanderer states. although his tone is stern, there's an unmistakable softness to his voice, his fingers clasped around yours as if he's afraid you'll be whisked away by the world, leaving him alone and betraying him once again.

"but my thesis project—"

"don't go," he repeats, "stay here." with me, his mind adds.

something crawls up his throat, his gaze suddenly averting yours as his free hand comes to tilt his hat down, masking his expression with its golden rim.

he holds his breath.

"alright," you respond. "is everything okay, wanderer?"

he doesn't respond. he tugs at your arm and pulls you close to him—so, so close—and chooses to exist in the silence. with you.

after a couple minutes, you hear wanderer mutter quietly to himself: "who even needs a thesis project?"

"uh, everyone who wants to graduate," you reply. wanderer rolls his eyes.

"who would even want to graduate?"

"me?" you respond, confused. wanderer looks away.

"whatever."

"eventually, i have to talk to him anyway—" you start, but wanderer quickly cuts you off.

"no, you don't."

"what?"

"nevermind. you wouldn't get it."

(what has he been reduced to?)

(a human.)

"what?" wriothesley says, almost incredulously. ''you want to know what clorinde's favorite flower is?"

"yeah," you reply. "i'm thinking of mailing it to her soon because i'll be too busy in the underworld to go out."

wriothesley briefly considers dispatching you on a deep sea expedition before realizing that if you're far from clorinde—underground—then you'll also be far from him, and he's not sure if he can handle that.

"well, you know, i don't really know her all that well..." he trails off, lacing his fingers together professionally. "it's a shame, really. maybe you can give her something else?"

"oh, like a box of chocolates?"

he blinks, his mind venturing to the worst scenarios. are you confessing to her? are you trying to court her? what's with all these romantic gifts?

it's unmistakable, the way his heart aches and squirms within his ribs. it's unmistakable, the way he feels something sutter one-too-many times within his chest, the tempo of his heart becoming slower and slower when, in your presence, it typically races.

but wriothesley swallows his envy and opts to relish under your gaze, feigning ignorance to the way his heart constricts a little, his ribs beginning to close in on themselves.

"well, clorinde is fond of anything that comes from your heart," wriothesley says, trying to ease the strain of his voice. "so anything you give her will definitely convey your feelings for her."

you chuckle to yourself, amused at the thought. "yeah, my feelings."

wriothesley doesn't quite know how to explain it, but the way you speak of your feelings for clorinde makes him want to give into the world and forget everything. because your expression is so lighthearted, so cheery, it makes him hate himself for wishing that it belonged to him. for wishing that you would ever, could ever, feel about him the same way you feel about clorinde.

he's selfish. too selfish. and maybe that's why you don't like him, and maybe that's why he doesn't deserve you, not now and not ever.

damn this heart of his.

"so, how long have you been planning this for?" wriothesley asks, forcing his signature grin. but the way his lips twitch a little, and the way his leg bounces up and down gives away everything.

you like someone else. for how long? wriothesley wonders, chuckling bitterly to himself. for how long have you liked clorinde?

how long has he spent, pining helplessly after you, only to realize that it was never going to work out? how could he even begin to perceive the thought of loving you, to even contemplate a time beyond what you've already given him?

he's such a fool.

"a couple of months," you say, fiddling with your fingers. wriothesley's such a fool, because the way he notices your tiny habits and the way he ogles at your embarrassed expression makes him want to continue falling hopelessly in love with you. even though you like someone else. even though you're discussing "someone else" right in front of him—he wants to love you anyway.

because that's just the kind of lovesick, hopeless fool he is.

"oh? a long time, huh?" he replies, hoping you don't notice the way he struggles to speak, the way words fail to leave his mouth the way he should.

wriothesley loves you—but no, love is not enough. he loves you the same way the birds love the sky, reaching into the limitless void, yearning and wanting. he loves you the same way tide loves the shore, ebbing and flowing, wishing for more.

wriothesley loves you in unimaginable ways, but they are not so galactic or as grand as the stars, because the love he has is rooted here on teyvat, within reach, and most fervently, within himself.

"yeah. i've been needing to apologize to her for a while now, actually," you explain, averting your eyes from his. "'cause a while back, i accidentally dropped a whole cake on her. it was a mess. literally and metaphorically."

"what?" wriothesley blinks.

"huh?" you tilt your head.

"apologize? so those gifts are for an apology?"

"yeah," you state, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

"oh."

the grin he wears is no longer forced, and when you exit his office, wriothesley buries his face into his hands, unable to contain his smile.

so i have a chance, is all he thinks.

angel's tavern is unusually quiet today.

"is kaeya single?" you suddenly ask.

the glass in diluc's hand nearly shatters, his gaze focused wholly on you as his jaw clenches.

angel's tavern is unusually tense today.

"what?"

you smile awkwardly. "is kaeya single?"

"i heard you the first time."

silence ensues.

"so is he single?"

he looks away.

"i'm not sure."

diluc wonders where it all went wrong; since when were you interested in kaeya, of all people? he doesn't know what's worse: the fact that you don't like him, or the fact that you'd like kaeya over him.

he decides to ignore the way his heart constricts a little, suffocating in between the ribs that are supposed to protect it. but even when his heart gets pierced, skewered onto his bones, he feels warm. so, so warm.

he looks at you.

"you like him?"

"he's okay," you respond nonchalantly, swirling your glass of water as if it were a decadent wine. "i don't know him all that well."

"and you still want to know if he's single?"

"we all start from somewhere."

well, you're starting from the wrong brother, is all diluc thinks.

"huh," he says unenthusiastically, "so you like unreliable men?"

"what?"

"nothing."

diluc doesn't know what to make of himself—he doesn't know where to look or what to do. should he keep polishing this wine glass, or should he confront you right now and tell you about how he's loved you for so, so long?

should he tell you about how he's willing to do anything for you, how he returned to mondstadt all those years ago with only you in mind? should he tell you about how he was ready to leave this life as a ragnvindr behind, to travel teyvat and never look back, but he was more faithful to you than he could've ever imagined? he remembered you, so fervently, that he returned. he returned and he stayed.

there's no point, diluc tells himself. i will wait. he's waited and wanted you for so long, he can withstand this newfound infatuation you have. so what if you like kaeya now? diluc latches onto a slip of hope, a minute chance that maybe, just maybe, you'll notice that it's been him all along.

he's always been here. waiting. (for you.)

you glance at him, your irises enveloping him in a tender embrace, and diluc wonders what it'd be like if you were in love. with him. he wonders how much lovelier that look would be, how warm it'd make him feel, if your pupils would dilate a little, if your expression would soften and your lips would curl into a smile when you did so much as recognize him.

would you notice him then? would you be able to discern the look in his eyes—that look of love—if you felt that way too? would you be able to tell that your existence is sown into his skin, growing and blossoming like a wildflower, persisting 'till the ends of time itself?

your existence blooms all across his being until there is nothing left of him, and everything left of you.

"what do you like about him?" diluc asks, trying to ignore the way his chest throbs. he readjusts his collar, feeling strangely stuffy.

"well, he's attractive. but i don't like him like that."

diluc steals a glance at his reflection in the wine glass. people usually tell him that he's attractive. more than kaeya, though? they haven't specified.

"beauty is truly in the eye of the beholder," he affirms.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"anyway,"—diluc feigns ignorance to your flabbergasted expression—"i wish you luck on your endeavors." he crosses his fingers.

"thanks?"

"and if anything ever happens, i will be here." as i've always been, he thinks.

"right."

"and if he does anything weird, say 'ragnvindr' three times."

"what?"

there's no trace of mirth in diluc's expression, and everything he's stated thus far has been said with a straight face. you shiver a little.

"we are also closing, by the way."

"i thought you guys were open all hours of the day—"

"nope. goodbye, dear customer." diluc pauses a little when saying "dear," for he relishes in the sound, wondering when he'll be able to drop the "customer" part and call you only that. only "dear" and nothing else—with no strings attached, except for a red knot around both of your pinkies.

he cringes at the cheesy thoughts he's having.

"uh, diluc?" you call, getting ushered out of the tavern by his glare alone. "you do realize i'm not trying to get with kaeya, right? i feel like you're misunderstanding things."

"what?" this time, it's diluc's turn to be flabbergasted.

"i'm just asking for a friend. you know donna?"

he wonders if it's possible to disappear off the face of teyvat (again).

(but even then, he'd return to mondstadt for the sake of being with you. for the sake of existing in your presence.)

(because that's just the kind of man diluc is. the kind of man he becomes at the mere thought of you.)

"oh," is all he says.

"did you think i was interested in kaeya?"

"angel's share is open all twenty-four hours of the day," diluc states, ignoring your question.

[kyyupidz]

oh, jeez. wish someone had told me how ugly these borders looked ^^;;;;; must i do a custom theme...?

[kyyupidz]

oh!!! i think i fixed it!!! yay!! :D

[kyyupidz]

oh, jeez. wish someone had told me how ugly these borders looked ^^;;;;; must i do a custom theme...?

[kyyupidz]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ about me! cupid (cuu also works!! ^_^) / any prns (that includes neos and nouns!!! i love when people use neos on me, so please, go crazy!) / viet / aroace fav characters : EMU OTORI, RUGGIE BUCCHI, floyd leech, ace trappola. love anons! anons are encouraged!!!!!!! mwamwa :D

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ dni... homophobic / racist / fatphobic / albeist / sexist / pedophiles / minors x adults shippers (looking at u ruggie x leona shippers)/ people who sexualize minors / incest supporters / dreamsmp supporters

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ request info! requests are always open!! however, i have the choice to opt to not write it if i feel uncomfortable with the request. please don't be disheartened! there are many other talented writers out there who are willing to write for you :) i will not write nsfw, pregnancy, student-teacher, stepsiblings/incest. reader will always be g/n and physical appearance left intentionally vague unless specified!!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ tags! # 🌹navigation : navigation around my page!! this includes my masterlist, this info post, etc. # 💌cupid's letters! : nonfics! could be polls, answers to messages, rants, etc. # 💘icymi : reblogs of my own fics... just in case you missed it! # 💕reblog : reblogs of other posts that aren't mine! # 💋cupid's kisses <3 : my fics!!!

[kyyupidz]

poll closed!!!! wow, that week went by fast! :D the next fic will be a DEUCE SPADE FIC!!!!! everyone cheer for deuce!! i didnt know so many people would show support for deuce, honestly i thought azul would win considering hes a fan favorite. consider me pleasantly surprised! big ideas for this fic!! while the summary may be short, im thinking that maybe this fic will be roughly the same length as my ace fic. a little ambitious? maybe. dont be too disappointed if its a short one! ^_^ in any case, thank you again! i'll see you all in a bit with the fic soon :) signing off, cupid! <3

[kyyupidz]

hi guys!! i have some fic ideas but im not really sure which ones to start.... ......no better solution than to simply let the people choose! idk how many people will end up voting but.... even if one person votes, ill write for that one person!!!!!! below are the ideas and the poll will be at the bottom! thx 4 ur time! <3

ruggie bucchi : his rational thoughts that tell him to go to someplace safe lead him to you. after a particularly bad fight, he knows he should probably go back to savanaclaw, but he is at yours, and he feels the safest he has ever been.

azul ashengrotto : its humiliating falling in love with you. not because you're embarrassing to be around, or that you're a hassle like floyd. on the contrary, you are everything he isn't. smart and intelligent, yet benevolent in a way he cannot be. you are an angel, and he is a bumbling man that cannot resist the divine. which is humiliating, because he is not a bumbling man. he is azul ashengrotto, not a stupid, silly, little boy in love!!!

deuce spade : you fall in love with deuce when he is a delinquent. then you moved away, and deuce became nothing but a distant memory. now, you meet him again in nrc, and succumb to the same childish love you felt when you were 13.

rook hunt : rook is a romantic. you know this better than anyone. you see him spill ballad after ballad over vil's acting, exclaim with delight whenever epel so much as breathes. so you're not surprised when you end up becoming the target of his affections one day. however, why do your friends keep insisting its different when hes complimenting you?... (basically rook likes the reader but the reader just thinks hes doing his Rook Things)

vote here! ^_^

ruggie bucchi

azul ashengrotto

deuce spade

rook hunt

Voting ended onFeb 17, 2024

[kyyupidz]

last few hours before the poll closes !! make sure 2 vote before its too late :)

[kyyupidz]

hi guys!! wow!! that poll has been really insightful and really really helpful :) as of right now, there are more than ONE HUNDRED VOTES!!! thats a lot of people!!! i was really scared that nobody would vote and this would be some sort of fail... but i was really pleasantly surprised!! tysm!! (for those curious, ruggie is currently in the lead! previously, it was azul, then deuce.... im wondering if rook will ever take the lead........) as it is, i might be doing more polls following the end of this current poll ^_^ here are some of the future plans for this account that i want to share: 1. branching out from twst!! that doesnt mean im leaving twst for good, just thinking of writing for other forms of media!! for example, reverse 1999 and... gulp... hoyoverse games....... 2. 100 follower event!!! currently, i have 69 followers (nice! ^o^), and i've been wondering if i should make me getting 100 followers a big event or keep it lowkey.... going on, i'm not even sure what i'd do for the event at all......... hm!! 3. account revamp....??? my account is... to put it simply... a little lackluster!! i would love to make it look a little fancier, maybe update my about me and add some more subpages or Whatever they're called :) thank you for all the support thus far!! signing off, cupid <3

[kyyupidz]

JUST A FRIENDSHIP GIFT (g/n reader x floyd leech) ★ you buy floyd a friendship gift. fortunately, he likes it! unfortunately, the gift could be misinterpreted for a love confession in the coral sea... where floyd leech was born.... uh oh! ★ fluff! tbh can be read as platonic or romantic ★ 2k words, mild cursing, not proofread, reader is called 'shrimpy', open ending :)

floyd leech is your friend. 

or at least, you think he is. he clings to you like you’re his life support, always leaning on you like you’re his personal armrest. you’ve grown accustomed to the loud call of “shrimpy!” whenever he sees you, always mentally preparing yourself for when he starts dragging you away to be part of whatever new hobby he’s picked up. you’re also no stranger to his bone-crushing hugs, the ones that lift you slightly off the ground and quite literally take your breath away.  

you thought that eventually he’d get bored of your presence and find someone else to pick on. he’s pretty open about the fact that he’d drop azul if he got boring. but it’s been a while now, and he still won’t leave you alone. in fact, you’re pretty sure he’s gotten clingier, if that’s even possible. 

you used to try and run, but you quickly found out that you cannot escape from floyd leech. a terrifying concept, but, well, he doesn’t seem to mean harm. most of the time, that is.  

nonetheless, floyd leech is still your friend. ignoring his occasional sadistic nature, he’s nice enough. he cheers you up whenever you’re sad, even if his methods are a little unorthodox. he’ll drag you away from classes, proclaiming that he can always go through the material with you later, and make you help him practice his basketball skills or recount the time he squeezed someone so hard their eyes were almost bulging out of their skull. and he’ll back you up in an argument, glaring down the person slighting you and telling them off with only a few words.  

(but he’ll make fun of you all he wants. you’ll excitedly tell him something new you learned and then he’ll laugh at you for not knowing basic twisted wonderland history even though you are from a completely different dimension.) 

you’re pretty sure you and floyd leech are friends. so, it was really no surprise when you did what any good friend does, and you gave him a gift that reminded you of him. 

it was this cheap matching set of phone charms that you picked up while buying your groceries at sam’s. his charm consisted of small, glimmering beads mimicking gold and ivory pearls leading to a shiny off-white seashell that dangled at the end of the charm. your charm was similar in design, but the gold beads were replaced with baby blue ones, and the beads led up to a seastar.  

you thought it was cute. you thought floyd might find it cute. so why... why is he just staring at it? 

“do you, like, not like it?” you laugh nervously, watching as floyd, for the first time ever, remains completely and utterly still. you don’t get it. did you offend him in some way with the charm? do eels not like phone charms? does he not like the seashell? does he not like the color gold??? 

suddenly, he breaks out into a fit of laughter. it does nothing to ease your anxiousness, or your confusion. 

“oh, man. you’re so funny shrimpy!” he grins, revealing his horrifyingly sharp teeth, “you have no idea what this means, right? man, i forget how dense you are sometimes!” 

okay. ouch. you take time and money out of your day to give him a gift and he calls you dense. 

“well, what’s wrong with it?” you ask, offended, “did i accidentally curse out your entire bloodline in eel language or something?” 

“nah,” he says brightly, picking up the charm to examine it closer. the beads gleam in the sunlight, making their pearl act look much more convincing. you still don’t get it.  

“look at it shrimpy,” he continues, “it’s shiny, pretty, and it’s part of a matching set!... still don’t get it? i’ll spell it out for you, ‘kay? listen closely... it would check all the boxes... for a love confession in the coral sea!” 

oh. 

oh. 

“so i’m asking you out,” you say dumbly. 

“so you’re asking me out!” he affirms happily, “awhh, you’re so cute shrimpy, asking me out in such a traditional way! i accept!” 

“wait-” you sputter out, “wait! it’s not a love confession- why did you say yes so easily?! it’s a friendship gift! because we’re friends! it’s not part of a courting ritual!” 

floyd laughs in your face again. you suddenly have the urge to either punch floyd leech or take away the phone charm and burn it. but you don’t. thank the sevens for your great impulse control. 

“it’s okay, shrimpy! no need to be embarrassed!” he teases between giggles, swinging the charm in front of your face, “c’mere! i’m gonna give you the biggest squeeze of your life!” 

“wait-” 

but floyd leech does not wait. he immediately tackles you with the force of a truck. you feel your feet lift off the floor as floyd hugs you so tight you feel your bones struggle to stay intact.  

“ow! owowow!” you squeak out, writhing hopelessly in his grasp. you try to form coherent words, but all you can make out are gasps of pain. 

just as suddenly as he grabbed you, he drops you on the ground and makes a bolt for the door. 

“wha- where are you going?!” you yell out. he grins at you from over his shoulder, swinging the door open and prancing through. 

“what does it look like? i’m gonna show off to everyone!” he yells back, turning the corner. you hear his cackling gradually getting quieter as he runs off. 

“wait- floyd! floyd!” 

you scramble to your feet, wincing at the ache in your ribs. you try to rush out the door after him, but it’s too late. floyd leech is gone with the wind. 

sevens save you. your reputation is going to take a nosedive straight into the mud. 

you’re so done for. 

you’ve been on edge the whole day. 

you’ve gotten wind that yes, floyd did attach the charm to his phone, and yes, he did flaunt it to everyone. and while he didn’t outright say it was from you, he did say it was from “shrimpy” and everyone put two and two together pretty quickly. of course, nobody thought anything of it at first, you gave him a charm, so what? while it is unusual giving a gift to someone like floyd, it’s not really a big deal in the end. 

that is, until floyd had apparently offhandedly said that such a charm, shiny, beautiful, part of a matching set... would totally be considered a love confession in the coral sea. 

and then everything went to hell. 

every few minutes some student runs up to you and starts yelling at you, telling you that you’re insane for asking floyd out. and then you must correct them, telling them you meant it as a friendship gift. of course, nobody believes you.  

to put it simply, it’s been a rough few hours. 

“you!”  

you jolt, thoughts suddenly interrupted as you see ace sprinting towards you, and you have half a mind to start sprinting yourself back where you came from. 

he skids to a stop in front of you, hands on his knees as he breathes in and out heavily. 

“you asked out floyd leech?!” he yells between heaves. you wince.  

“no, i didn’t,” you insist, crossing your arms, “it was a friendship gift. a friendship gift! great sevens, how many times do i have to say it?!” 

“that’s not what floyd said.” 

“you’d believe floyd over me?!” 

“listen,” ace takes in a huge breath of air, straightening himself, “i didn’t think it was possible, i mean floyd? getting a partner before me? no way. so i asked him who it was from, and he was like, ‘shrimpy gave it to me!’ i didn’t even register it at first, like, who the hell was shrimpy? but then i realized, great sevens, it’s you.” 

you groan in embarrassment. you’ve gone through this scenario multiple times today, but it’s even more humiliating going through it with someone you’re close with.  

“look, it was a friendship gift,” you try explaining, “how was i supposed to know it meant a love confession where he was from? i didn’t even know what beanfest was!” 

“yeah, yeah,” ace waves off, “i’m surprised i even found you. thought you’d hole yourself up in your room or something.” 

“you were looking for me?” 

“duh! bet some other people are too. i wouldn’t put it past some of the octavinelle students to try and get the scoop,” ace sighs in exasperation, “sevens, i keep telling you to leave him alone and you just don’t listen, do you?” 

“to be fair, he’s the one that’s been following me.” 

“well, why do you encourage him to keep following you?!” 

you don’t really have an answer to that so you clamp your mouth shut. why do you keep encouraging him? 

“you’re such an idiot,” ace groans, “forget it. i’m leaving. i don’t want to get caught up in whatever mess you’re dealing with.” 

“weren’t you the one looking for me first?” 

too late again. ace walks away, and you still want to curl up in a hole and die.  

no! you can’t think like this! you’re mentally stronger than this, you’ve gotten past multiple overblots and lived and you’re not going to let one scandal ruin you! let’s see, your next class is... 

oh. it’s the one with floyd. 

so much for being mentally strong.

you walk into the classroom, and immediately all eyes turn towards you. you scan the free spaces, and... 

...great sevens. the only free one is near floyd. 

“shrimpy!” floyd says loudly, gaining the attention of the entire room. you see a scarabia student share knowing looks with the heartslabyul student next to him. great. floyd beckons you over, and you groan internally. 

the sevens hate you. it’s the only logical explanation. you slowly slide into the seat next to him, and he quickly takes out his phone. the charm is attached, just as you had feared.  

“i still have the charm you got me!” he exclaims, showing you that seven-forsaken charm. it glimmers in the sunlight. you really wish it didn’t. 

“yeah,” you respond back awkwardly, not sure where to look, “uhm. just by the way...” 

“hm?” 

“...you know it wasn’t meant to be a love confession, right? it really is just a friendship gift.” 

“huh?” he says, “yeah. i know.” 

...? 

“wait,” you sputter out, “but you’ve been telling everyone-” 

“yeah! that you got me something totally snazzy!” his gaze shifts to the phone charm, and he plays with the seashell at the end, sporting a goofy grin. “it’s like, totally cool! i’m gonna treasure it for life!”  

“no- why did you tell everyone it was a love confession?!” 

“wha?” he looks at you, clearly shocked. you gape at him. why is he the one who’s shocked?! you should be the one who’s more surprised! in fact, he should be groveling for your forgiveness right now! 

 “i never said that,” he denies, pouting, “you makin’ up lies about me, shrimpy?” 

“you-” you bury your head in your hands, groaning, “didn’t you tell them it was a love confession?” 

“i didn’t,” he insists, “all i said that it was funny how you didn’t know this charm could be considered a love confession! never said it was one. not my fault people assume, shrimpy!” 

you can feel everyone staring at you and floyd. you look up and make eye contact with the heartslabyul student who you saw before, and he hurriedly looks away. 

“dammit...” you whine, “this is all your fault!” 

“huh?!” floyd cries out, “how is it mine?!” 

“silence!” professor trein interrupts loudly. he must’ve come in while you were busy dealing with floyd. the class’s attention is diverted towards the front of the board, and you have never been gladder for professor trein’s presence. 

you open your textbook, breathing out a much-needed sigh of relief. thank the sevens that you’ll have a few moments of peace! 

...that is, until floyd waves his phone in front of your face, the charm swinging back and forth. the nerve! he’s making fun of you! you shoot a glare at him, and he meets your gaze with a smirk. 

“leech. phone away,” professor trein demands.  

“awhh. okay.” 

note: in honor of me getting my second floyd leech ssr. was gunning for his basketball card but got his dorm uniform instead... ITS OK. ITS A FLOYD CARD ALL THE SAME. (i wanted ace) also the open ending isn't because of like some master writing idea it's actually just because i didn't know how to finish it.

[kyyupidz]

hi guys!! i have some fic ideas but im not really sure which ones to start.... ......no better solution than to simply let the people choose! idk how many people will end up voting but.... even if one person votes, ill write for that one person!!!!!! below are the ideas and the poll will be at the bottom! thx 4 ur time! <3

ruggie bucchi : his rational thoughts that tell him to go to someplace safe lead him to you. after a particularly bad fight, he knows he should probably go back to savanaclaw, but he is at yours, and he feels the safest he has ever been.

azul ashengrotto : its humiliating falling in love with you. not because you're embarrassing to be around, or that you're a hassle like floyd. on the contrary, you are everything he isn't. smart and intelligent, yet benevolent in a way he cannot be. you are an angel, and he is a bumbling man that cannot resist the divine. which is humiliating, because he is not a bumbling man. he is azul ashengrotto, not a stupid, silly, little boy in love!!!

deuce spade : you fall in love with deuce when he is a delinquent. then you moved away, and deuce became nothing but a distant memory. now, you meet him again in nrc, and succumb to the same childish love you felt when you were 13.

rook hunt : rook is a romantic. you know this better than anyone. you see him spill ballad after ballad over vil's acting, exclaim with delight whenever epel so much as breathes. so you're not surprised when you end up becoming the target of his affections one day. however, why do your friends keep insisting its different when hes complimenting you?... (basically rook likes the reader but the reader just thinks hes doing his Rook Things)

vote here! ^_^

ruggie bucchi

azul ashengrotto

deuce spade

rook hunt

Voting ended onFeb 17, 2024

[kyyupidz]

JUST A FRIENDSHIP GIFT (g/n reader x floyd leech) ★ you buy floyd a friendship gift. fortunately, he likes it! unfortunately, the gift could be misinterpreted for a love confession in the coral sea... where floyd leech was born.... uh oh! ★ fluff! tbh can be read as platonic or romantic ★ 2k words, mild cursing, not proofread, reader is called 'shrimpy', open ending :)

floyd leech is your friend. 

or at least, you think he is. he clings to you like you’re his life support, always leaning on you like you’re his personal armrest. you’ve grown accustomed to the loud call of “shrimpy!” whenever he sees you, always mentally preparing yourself for when he starts dragging you away to be part of whatever new hobby he’s picked up. you’re also no stranger to his bone-crushing hugs, the ones that lift you slightly off the ground and quite literally take your breath away.  

you thought that eventually he’d get bored of your presence and find someone else to pick on. he’s pretty open about the fact that he’d drop azul if he got boring. but it’s been a while now, and he still won’t leave you alone. in fact, you’re pretty sure he’s gotten clingier, if that’s even possible. 

you used to try and run, but you quickly found out that you cannot escape from floyd leech. a terrifying concept, but, well, he doesn’t seem to mean harm. most of the time, that is.  

nonetheless, floyd leech is still your friend. ignoring his occasional sadistic nature, he’s nice enough. he cheers you up whenever you’re sad, even if his methods are a little unorthodox. he’ll drag you away from classes, proclaiming that he can always go through the material with you later, and make you help him practice his basketball skills or recount the time he squeezed someone so hard their eyes were almost bulging out of their skull. and he’ll back you up in an argument, glaring down the person slighting you and telling them off with only a few words.  

(but he’ll make fun of you all he wants. you’ll excitedly tell him something new you learned and then he’ll laugh at you for not knowing basic twisted wonderland history even though you are from a completely different dimension.) 

you’re pretty sure you and floyd leech are friends. so, it was really no surprise when you did what any good friend does, and you gave him a gift that reminded you of him. 

it was this cheap matching set of phone charms that you picked up while buying your groceries at sam’s. his charm consisted of small, glimmering beads mimicking gold and ivory pearls leading to a shiny off-white seashell that dangled at the end of the charm. your charm was similar in design, but the gold beads were replaced with baby blue ones, and the beads led up to a seastar.  

you thought it was cute. you thought floyd might find it cute. so why... why is he just staring at it? 

“do you, like, not like it?” you laugh nervously, watching as floyd, for the first time ever, remains completely and utterly still. you don’t get it. did you offend him in some way with the charm? do eels not like phone charms? does he not like the seashell? does he not like the color gold??? 

suddenly, he breaks out into a fit of laughter. it does nothing to ease your anxiousness, or your confusion. 

“oh, man. you’re so funny shrimpy!” he grins, revealing his horrifyingly sharp teeth, “you have no idea what this means, right? man, i forget how dense you are sometimes!” 

okay. ouch. you take time and money out of your day to give him a gift and he calls you dense. 

“well, what’s wrong with it?” you ask, offended, “did i accidentally curse out your entire bloodline in eel language or something?” 

“nah,” he says brightly, picking up the charm to examine it closer. the beads gleam in the sunlight, making their pearl act look much more convincing. you still don’t get it.  

“look at it shrimpy,” he continues, “it’s shiny, pretty, and it’s part of a matching set!... still don’t get it? i’ll spell it out for you, ‘kay? listen closely... it would check all the boxes... for a love confession in the coral sea!” 

oh. 

oh. 

“so i’m asking you out,” you say dumbly. 

“so you’re asking me out!” he affirms happily, “awhh, you’re so cute shrimpy, asking me out in such a traditional way! i accept!” 

“wait-” you sputter out, “wait! it’s not a love confession- why did you say yes so easily?! it’s a friendship gift! because we’re friends! it’s not part of a courting ritual!” 

floyd laughs in your face again. you suddenly have the urge to either punch floyd leech or take away the phone charm and burn it. but you don’t. thank the sevens for your great impulse control. 

“it’s okay, shrimpy! no need to be embarrassed!” he teases between giggles, swinging the charm in front of your face, “c’mere! i’m gonna give you the biggest squeeze of your life!” 

“wait-” 

but floyd leech does not wait. he immediately tackles you with the force of a truck. you feel your feet lift off the floor as floyd hugs you so tight you feel your bones struggle to stay intact.  

“ow! owowow!” you squeak out, writhing hopelessly in his grasp. you try to form coherent words, but all you can make out are gasps of pain. 

just as suddenly as he grabbed you, he drops you on the ground and makes a bolt for the door. 

“wha- where are you going?!” you yell out. he grins at you from over his shoulder, swinging the door open and prancing through. 

“what does it look like? i’m gonna show off to everyone!” he yells back, turning the corner. you hear his cackling gradually getting quieter as he runs off. 

“wait- floyd! floyd!” 

you scramble to your feet, wincing at the ache in your ribs. you try to rush out the door after him, but it’s too late. floyd leech is gone with the wind. 

sevens save you. your reputation is going to take a nosedive straight into the mud. 

you’re so done for. 

you’ve been on edge the whole day. 

you’ve gotten wind that yes, floyd did attach the charm to his phone, and yes, he did flaunt it to everyone. and while he didn’t outright say it was from you, he did say it was from “shrimpy” and everyone put two and two together pretty quickly. of course, nobody thought anything of it at first, you gave him a charm, so what? while it is unusual giving a gift to someone like floyd, it’s not really a big deal in the end. 

that is, until floyd had apparently offhandedly said that such a charm, shiny, beautiful, part of a matching set... would totally be considered a love confession in the coral sea. 

and then everything went to hell. 

every few minutes some student runs up to you and starts yelling at you, telling you that you’re insane for asking floyd out. and then you must correct them, telling them you meant it as a friendship gift. of course, nobody believes you.  

to put it simply, it’s been a rough few hours. 

“you!”  

you jolt, thoughts suddenly interrupted as you see ace sprinting towards you, and you have half a mind to start sprinting yourself back where you came from. 

he skids to a stop in front of you, hands on his knees as he breathes in and out heavily. 

“you asked out floyd leech?!” he yells between heaves. you wince.  

“no, i didn’t,” you insist, crossing your arms, “it was a friendship gift. a friendship gift! great sevens, how many times do i have to say it?!” 

“that’s not what floyd said.” 

“you’d believe floyd over me?!” 

“listen,” ace takes in a huge breath of air, straightening himself, “i didn’t think it was possible, i mean floyd? getting a partner before me? no way. so i asked him who it was from, and he was like, ‘shrimpy gave it to me!’ i didn’t even register it at first, like, who the hell was shrimpy? but then i realized, great sevens, it’s you.” 

you groan in embarrassment. you’ve gone through this scenario multiple times today, but it’s even more humiliating going through it with someone you’re close with.  

“look, it was a friendship gift,” you try explaining, “how was i supposed to know it meant a love confession where he was from? i didn’t even know what beanfest was!” 

“yeah, yeah,” ace waves off, “i’m surprised i even found you. thought you’d hole yourself up in your room or something.” 

“you were looking for me?” 

“duh! bet some other people are too. i wouldn’t put it past some of the octavinelle students to try and get the scoop,” ace sighs in exasperation, “sevens, i keep telling you to leave him alone and you just don’t listen, do you?” 

“to be fair, he’s the one that’s been following me.” 

“well, why do you encourage him to keep following you?!” 

you don’t really have an answer to that so you clamp your mouth shut. why do you keep encouraging him? 

“you’re such an idiot,” ace groans, “forget it. i’m leaving. i don’t want to get caught up in whatever mess you’re dealing with.” 

“weren’t you the one looking for me first?” 

too late again. ace walks away, and you still want to curl up in a hole and die.  

no! you can’t think like this! you’re mentally stronger than this, you’ve gotten past multiple overblots and lived and you’re not going to let one scandal ruin you! let’s see, your next class is... 

oh. it’s the one with floyd. 

so much for being mentally strong.

you walk into the classroom, and immediately all eyes turn towards you. you scan the free spaces, and... 

...great sevens. the only free one is near floyd. 

“shrimpy!” floyd says loudly, gaining the attention of the entire room. you see a scarabia student share knowing looks with the heartslabyul student next to him. great. floyd beckons you over, and you groan internally. 

the sevens hate you. it’s the only logical explanation. you slowly slide into the seat next to him, and he quickly takes out his phone. the charm is attached, just as you had feared.  

“i still have the charm you got me!” he exclaims, showing you that seven-forsaken charm. it glimmers in the sunlight. you really wish it didn’t. 

“yeah,” you respond back awkwardly, not sure where to look, “uhm. just by the way...” 

“hm?” 

“...you know it wasn’t meant to be a love confession, right? it really is just a friendship gift.” 

“huh?” he says, “yeah. i know.” 

...? 

“wait,” you sputter out, “but you’ve been telling everyone-” 

“yeah! that you got me something totally snazzy!” his gaze shifts to the phone charm, and he plays with the seashell at the end, sporting a goofy grin. “it’s like, totally cool! i’m gonna treasure it for life!”  

“no- why did you tell everyone it was a love confession?!” 

“wha?” he looks at you, clearly shocked. you gape at him. why is he the one who’s shocked?! you should be the one who’s more surprised! in fact, he should be groveling for your forgiveness right now! 

 “i never said that,” he denies, pouting, “you makin’ up lies about me, shrimpy?” 

“you-” you bury your head in your hands, groaning, “didn’t you tell them it was a love confession?” 

“i didn’t,” he insists, “all i said that it was funny how you didn’t know this charm could be considered a love confession! never said it was one. not my fault people assume, shrimpy!” 

you can feel everyone staring at you and floyd. you look up and make eye contact with the heartslabyul student who you saw before, and he hurriedly looks away. 

“dammit...” you whine, “this is all your fault!” 

“huh?!” floyd cries out, “how is it mine?!” 

“silence!” professor trein interrupts loudly. he must’ve come in while you were busy dealing with floyd. the class’s attention is diverted towards the front of the board, and you have never been gladder for professor trein’s presence. 

you open your textbook, breathing out a much-needed sigh of relief. thank the sevens that you’ll have a few moments of peace! 

...that is, until floyd waves his phone in front of your face, the charm swinging back and forth. the nerve! he’s making fun of you! you shoot a glare at him, and he meets your gaze with a smirk. 

“leech. phone away,” professor trein demands.  

“awhh. okay.” 

note: in honor of me getting my second floyd leech ssr. was gunning for his basketball card but got his dorm uniform instead... ITS OK. ITS A FLOYD CARD ALL THE SAME. (i wanted ace) also the open ending isn't because of like some master writing idea it's actually just because i didn't know how to finish it.

[kyyupidz]

hi guys!! i have some fic ideas but im not really sure which ones to start.... ......no better solution than to simply let the people choose! idk how many people will end up voting but.... even if one person votes, ill write for that one person!!!!!! below are the ideas and the poll will be at the bottom! thx 4 ur time! <3

ruggie bucchi : his rational thoughts that tell him to go to someplace safe lead him to you. after a particularly bad fight, he knows he should probably go back to savanaclaw, but he is at yours, and he feels the safest he has ever been.

azul ashengrotto : its humiliating falling in love with you. not because you're embarrassing to be around, or that you're a hassle like floyd. on the contrary, you are everything he isn't. smart and intelligent, yet benevolent in a way he cannot be. you are an angel, and he is a bumbling man that cannot resist the divine. which is humiliating, because he is not a bumbling man. he is azul ashengrotto, not a stupid, silly, little boy in love!!!

deuce spade : you fall in love with deuce when he is a delinquent. then you moved away, and deuce became nothing but a distant memory. now, you meet him again in nrc, and succumb to the same childish love you felt when you were 13.

rook hunt : rook is a romantic. you know this better than anyone. you see him spill ballad after ballad over vil's acting, exclaim with delight whenever epel so much as breathes. so you're not surprised when you end up becoming the target of his affections one day. however, why do your friends keep insisting its different when hes complimenting you?... (basically rook likes the reader but the reader just thinks hes doing his Rook Things)

vote here! ^_^

ruggie bucchi

azul ashengrotto

deuce spade

rook hunt

Voting ended onFeb 17, 2024

[kyyupidz]

JUST A FRIENDSHIP GIFT (g/n reader x floyd leech) ★ you buy floyd a friendship gift. fortunately, he likes it! unfortunately, the gift could be misinterpreted for a love confession in the coral sea... where floyd leech was born.... uh oh! ★ fluff! tbh can be read as platonic or romantic ★ 2k words, mild cursing, not proofread, reader is called 'shrimpy', open ending :)

floyd leech is your friend. 

or at least, you think he is. he clings to you like you’re his life support, always leaning on you like you’re his personal armrest. you’ve grown accustomed to the loud call of “shrimpy!” whenever he sees you, always mentally preparing yourself for when he starts dragging you away to be part of whatever new hobby he’s picked up. you’re also no stranger to his bone-crushing hugs, the ones that lift you slightly off the ground and quite literally take your breath away.  

you thought that eventually he’d get bored of your presence and find someone else to pick on. he’s pretty open about the fact that he’d drop azul if he got boring. but it’s been a while now, and he still won’t leave you alone. in fact, you’re pretty sure he’s gotten clingier, if that’s even possible. 

you used to try and run, but you quickly found out that you cannot escape from floyd leech. a terrifying concept, but, well, he doesn’t seem to mean harm. most of the time, that is.  

nonetheless, floyd leech is still your friend. ignoring his occasional sadistic nature, he’s nice enough. he cheers you up whenever you’re sad, even if his methods are a little unorthodox. he’ll drag you away from classes, proclaiming that he can always go through the material with you later, and make you help him practice his basketball skills or recount the time he squeezed someone so hard their eyes were almost bulging out of their skull. and he’ll back you up in an argument, glaring down the person slighting you and telling them off with only a few words.  

(but he’ll make fun of you all he wants. you’ll excitedly tell him something new you learned and then he’ll laugh at you for not knowing basic twisted wonderland history even though you are from a completely different dimension.) 

you’re pretty sure you and floyd leech are friends. so, it was really no surprise when you did what any good friend does, and you gave him a gift that reminded you of him. 

it was this cheap matching set of phone charms that you picked up while buying your groceries at sam’s. his charm consisted of small, glimmering beads mimicking gold and ivory pearls leading to a shiny off-white seashell that dangled at the end of the charm. your charm was similar in design, but the gold beads were replaced with baby blue ones, and the beads led up to a seastar.  

you thought it was cute. you thought floyd might find it cute. so why... why is he just staring at it? 

“do you, like, not like it?” you laugh nervously, watching as floyd, for the first time ever, remains completely and utterly still. you don’t get it. did you offend him in some way with the charm? do eels not like phone charms? does he not like the seashell? does he not like the color gold??? 

suddenly, he breaks out into a fit of laughter. it does nothing to ease your anxiousness, or your confusion. 

“oh, man. you’re so funny shrimpy!” he grins, revealing his horrifyingly sharp teeth, “you have no idea what this means, right? man, i forget how dense you are sometimes!” 

okay. ouch. you take time and money out of your day to give him a gift and he calls you dense. 

“well, what’s wrong with it?” you ask, offended, “did i accidentally curse out your entire bloodline in eel language or something?” 

“nah,” he says brightly, picking up the charm to examine it closer. the beads gleam in the sunlight, making their pearl act look much more convincing. you still don’t get it.  

“look at it shrimpy,” he continues, “it’s shiny, pretty, and it’s part of a matching set!... still don’t get it? i’ll spell it out for you, ‘kay? listen closely... it would check all the boxes... for a love confession in the coral sea!” 

oh. 

oh. 

“so i’m asking you out,” you say dumbly. 

“so you’re asking me out!” he affirms happily, “awhh, you’re so cute shrimpy, asking me out in such a traditional way! i accept!” 

“wait-” you sputter out, “wait! it’s not a love confession- why did you say yes so easily?! it’s a friendship gift! because we’re friends! it’s not part of a courting ritual!” 

floyd laughs in your face again. you suddenly have the urge to either punch floyd leech or take away the phone charm and burn it. but you don’t. thank the sevens for your great impulse control. 

“it’s okay, shrimpy! no need to be embarrassed!” he teases between giggles, swinging the charm in front of your face, “c’mere! i’m gonna give you the biggest squeeze of your life!” 

“wait-” 

but floyd leech does not wait. he immediately tackles you with the force of a truck. you feel your feet lift off the floor as floyd hugs you so tight you feel your bones struggle to stay intact.  

“ow! owowow!” you squeak out, writhing hopelessly in his grasp. you try to form coherent words, but all you can make out are gasps of pain. 

just as suddenly as he grabbed you, he drops you on the ground and makes a bolt for the door. 

“wha- where are you going?!” you yell out. he grins at you from over his shoulder, swinging the door open and prancing through. 

“what does it look like? i’m gonna show off to everyone!” he yells back, turning the corner. you hear his cackling gradually getting quieter as he runs off. 

“wait- floyd! floyd!” 

you scramble to your feet, wincing at the ache in your ribs. you try to rush out the door after him, but it’s too late. floyd leech is gone with the wind. 

sevens save you. your reputation is going to take a nosedive straight into the mud. 

you’re so done for. 

you’ve been on edge the whole day. 

you’ve gotten wind that yes, floyd did attach the charm to his phone, and yes, he did flaunt it to everyone. and while he didn’t outright say it was from you, he did say it was from “shrimpy” and everyone put two and two together pretty quickly. of course, nobody thought anything of it at first, you gave him a charm, so what? while it is unusual giving a gift to someone like floyd, it’s not really a big deal in the end. 

that is, until floyd had apparently offhandedly said that such a charm, shiny, beautiful, part of a matching set... would totally be considered a love confession in the coral sea. 

and then everything went to hell. 

every few minutes some student runs up to you and starts yelling at you, telling you that you’re insane for asking floyd out. and then you must correct them, telling them you meant it as a friendship gift. of course, nobody believes you.  

to put it simply, it’s been a rough few hours. 

“you!”  

you jolt, thoughts suddenly interrupted as you see ace sprinting towards you, and you have half a mind to start sprinting yourself back where you came from. 

he skids to a stop in front of you, hands on his knees as he breathes in and out heavily. 

“you asked out floyd leech?!” he yells between heaves. you wince.  

“no, i didn’t,” you insist, crossing your arms, “it was a friendship gift. a friendship gift! great sevens, how many times do i have to say it?!” 

“that’s not what floyd said.” 

“you’d believe floyd over me?!” 

“listen,” ace takes in a huge breath of air, straightening himself, “i didn’t think it was possible, i mean floyd? getting a partner before me? no way. so i asked him who it was from, and he was like, ‘shrimpy gave it to me!’ i didn’t even register it at first, like, who the hell was shrimpy? but then i realized, great sevens, it’s you.” 

you groan in embarrassment. you’ve gone through this scenario multiple times today, but it’s even more humiliating going through it with someone you’re close with.  

“look, it was a friendship gift,” you try explaining, “how was i supposed to know it meant a love confession where he was from? i didn’t even know what beanfest was!” 

“yeah, yeah,” ace waves off, “i’m surprised i even found you. thought you’d hole yourself up in your room or something.” 

“you were looking for me?” 

“duh! bet some other people are too. i wouldn’t put it past some of the octavinelle students to try and get the scoop,” ace sighs in exasperation, “sevens, i keep telling you to leave him alone and you just don’t listen, do you?” 

“to be fair, he’s the one that’s been following me.” 

“well, why do you encourage him to keep following you?!” 

you don’t really have an answer to that so you clamp your mouth shut. why do you keep encouraging him? 

“you’re such an idiot,” ace groans, “forget it. i’m leaving. i don’t want to get caught up in whatever mess you’re dealing with.” 

“weren’t you the one looking for me first?” 

too late again. ace walks away, and you still want to curl up in a hole and die.  

no! you can’t think like this! you’re mentally stronger than this, you’ve gotten past multiple overblots and lived and you’re not going to let one scandal ruin you! let’s see, your next class is... 

oh. it’s the one with floyd. 

so much for being mentally strong.

you walk into the classroom, and immediately all eyes turn towards you. you scan the free spaces, and... 

...great sevens. the only free one is near floyd. 

“shrimpy!” floyd says loudly, gaining the attention of the entire room. you see a scarabia student share knowing looks with the heartslabyul student next to him. great. floyd beckons you over, and you groan internally. 

the sevens hate you. it’s the only logical explanation. you slowly slide into the seat next to him, and he quickly takes out his phone. the charm is attached, just as you had feared.  

“i still have the charm you got me!” he exclaims, showing you that seven-forsaken charm. it glimmers in the sunlight. you really wish it didn’t. 

“yeah,” you respond back awkwardly, not sure where to look, “uhm. just by the way...” 

“hm?” 

“...you know it wasn’t meant to be a love confession, right? it really is just a friendship gift.” 

“huh?” he says, “yeah. i know.” 

...? 

“wait,” you sputter out, “but you’ve been telling everyone-” 

“yeah! that you got me something totally snazzy!” his gaze shifts to the phone charm, and he plays with the seashell at the end, sporting a goofy grin. “it’s like, totally cool! i’m gonna treasure it for life!”  

“no- why did you tell everyone it was a love confession?!” 

“wha?” he looks at you, clearly shocked. you gape at him. why is he the one who’s shocked?! you should be the one who’s more surprised! in fact, he should be groveling for your forgiveness right now! 

 “i never said that,” he denies, pouting, “you makin’ up lies about me, shrimpy?” 

“you-” you bury your head in your hands, groaning, “didn’t you tell them it was a love confession?” 

“i didn’t,” he insists, “all i said that it was funny how you didn’t know this charm could be considered a love confession! never said it was one. not my fault people assume, shrimpy!” 

you can feel everyone staring at you and floyd. you look up and make eye contact with the heartslabyul student who you saw before, and he hurriedly looks away. 

“dammit...” you whine, “this is all your fault!” 

“huh?!” floyd cries out, “how is it mine?!” 

“silence!” professor trein interrupts loudly. he must’ve come in while you were busy dealing with floyd. the class’s attention is diverted towards the front of the board, and you have never been gladder for professor trein’s presence. 

you open your textbook, breathing out a much-needed sigh of relief. thank the sevens that you’ll have a few moments of peace! 

...that is, until floyd waves his phone in front of your face, the charm swinging back and forth. the nerve! he’s making fun of you! you shoot a glare at him, and he meets your gaze with a smirk. 

“leech. phone away,” professor trein demands.  

“awhh. okay.” 

note: in honor of me getting my second floyd leech ssr. was gunning for his basketball card but got his dorm uniform instead... ITS OK. ITS A FLOYD CARD ALL THE SAME. (i wanted ace) also the open ending isn't because of like some master writing idea it's actually just because i didn't know how to finish it.