Hi, I love your posts, if it's not too much trouble.Could you ask a male reader with hoarding disorder about his relationship with the characters you choose, including Cater Diamond, and how he handles interacting with someone who has this disorder and a very particular system?But she has a system. Each pile was of a different type: metal, fabric, plastic, etc., but they were also separated into subpiles by size, color, etc.Sorry if I'm not explaining myself well; English isn't my first language.
An: This might be a more gn-coded but I swear that's just because I write referring to the reader with you/yours automatically ToT
Includes: Cater, Ruggie, Jamil, Azul, and Lilia!
Warnings: For mental health struggles, and some of the boys actions can be considered jerk-ish, a lot of them also struggle with their own issues!
Cater is all for maximalism over minimalism, but after researching on some trusted sites he is a bit concerned about your hoarding. He’s a bit overwhelmed by his research, it causes a worry to settle over him whenever you talk about a new interest in something, especially if you’re the type to hoard merch from your favorite media.
He’s a little worried about how you sort things, it seems a bit controlling and it makes Cater a bit anxious whenever you invite him over. Not because he doesn’t like being around you, it’s rather he doesn’t want to mess up your careful system and watch you descend into a breakdown over your silk fabrics mixing with wool. It makes Cater feel like he’s got to tiptoe around you, especially with all the horror stories he hears about close friends trying to help someone who shares the disorder with you.
At some point he does reach his limit, though he’d never be comfortable confronting someone about something so intimate, he would if it gets to a point where you might be neglecting your health. Though Cater goes about the ‘intervention’ in a roundabout way, he doesn’t directly involve himself with it, but he does tattle to Riddle and Trey who also get worried when they hear about the reasons behind your degrading health.
I imagine Ruggie might also have a bit of a hoarding disorder honestly, specifically hoarding OCD when it comes to money and food. He’s not willing to spend more money than is needed for his basic survival, the rest gets funneled away into his piggy bank. It’s been engrained in Ruggie’s head that he doesn’t need to thrive, just survive. So while he might not know what both he and you are engaging in is considered a big problem by most people, he would recognize the issues you two share.
At first, it’s something casual that he brings up every now and then after he notices your hoarding issue. Because that’s just what it is to Ruggie, an issue, he wouldn’t recognize it as a serious disorder unless you were being seriously neglectful of yourself. Sure he might think you’re joking when you sheepishly admit you’ve got your hoard organized into piles that have sub piles, but he’s not laughing once he actually sees your hoard.
It’s a personal headcanon of mine that Ruggie has issues with recognizing mental disorders as an actual thing, he’s never trusted doctors or therapists, but he does do research into why you might be hoarding things obsessively. If it’s a resource thing, like him, then Ruggie would try his best to show you that you don’t need all of this to survive. It might not be the best tactic, and he might even call your hoard a pile of junk right to your face, but tough love is how you survive in the slums.
Oh, Jamil hates your “little collection” with a passion. It might be the bane of his existence. Jamil has an issue with the hoard because he perceives it as you choosing to be unclean, to make more work for yourself the day you snap out of whatever phase you’re in and finally clean up.
Because yet again, Jamil is also someone who struggles with recognizing what you’re doing as a mental illness. He wouldn’t go so far as to say he doesn’t believe things like ADHD and depression don’t exist, but a hoarding disorder seems far-fetched to him… He truly believes you’re doing this to yourself and always scoffs that you could stop anytime if you truly wanted to.
If anything, he might accidentally make you worse at times by cleaning up or throwing away your hoard whenever he’s had enough. It isn’t Jamil’s intent to be cruel, if you’re so attached to your hoard that you have a breakdown over it being dismantled then he won’t do it again. Though he will avoid your room whenever possible. Sometimes he gives you self-help books.
Azul can understand hoarding, to an extent. Being an octo-mer, he has fallen prey to some of his instincts to hoard and arrange rocks and shells around his octopot to fortify it. It was worse when he was younger, primarily because of his intense anxiety and the temporary peace that collecting these items would bring, but he grew out of it just like everyone else.
So at first Azul believes that this is simply something you haven’t grown out of yet. He gets a bit condescending at times whenever you confide in him about your hoard as he doesn’t understand yet that this could be considered a genuine problem. Everyone in the Coral Sea holds onto items, but usually those things are both functional and sentimental. Azul can’t fathom why you’re hoarding things that have no use.
Once he realizes that you genuinely have a problem, Azul gives you the numbers of multiple trusted therapists. He doesn’t trust himself to be someone you lean heavily on, but he is willing to talk with you and maybe share his own personal stories about dealing with mental illness. Azul prides himself on being a businessman first, but he’s happy to be your therapy buddy second.
Lilia is actually pretty used to people that hoard. First it was Meleanor and then it was Malleus, though those two are both dragons and you’re you so maybe that’s not the best comparison. At first Lilia is happy to keep it light and make jokes about your (not so) little hoard if you’re comfortable with that, he’s even willing to help you sort things into your sub piles if you ask him to!
The fae is willing to let you get away with a lot, so your hoard is safe! Until it begins affecting your safety and wellbeing anyways. Something that Lilia is never going to change his viewpoint on is that as he’s both stronger and older than you, it’s his responsibility to look out for you when you might not be doing it yourself. If you start skipping meals to save on money to buy more stuff for your hoard then that’s alright, Lilia will be outside with a fresh and free plate! Oh some of your stuff has turned into a tripping hazard? Can’t trip on anything if it’s floating!
And while you’re distracted by the showy magical solutions Lilia has come up with, the sneaky fae will be pocketing small, unnecessary items from your hoard to free up floor space. Lilia pretty much lets you keep everything you’re attached to and doesn’t force you to go to therapy or talk to anyone if you don’t want to, but he does draw the line at your safety.
An: Little extra content that I wrote down in like an hour and wanted to share with yall : D
this does include some of my own headcanons and notes for how I like to characterize some of these guys showing their affection! And yes, this can apply to the Bet!Mc ^^
Includes: Cater, Ruggie, Kalim, Jamil, and Floyd!
Cater doesn’t outright realize but he does notice how you never push (most) people away if they’re touching you. He thought you only allowed this with certain people like your close friends, but no! Imagine his surprise when he saw you allowing Riddle to brush crumbs from the corner of your mouth, granted there was no actual skin contact so maybe you just didn’t realize at the time.
Cater is a rather tactile person as we see in the manga and anime—a quick side hug and pulling someone in for a cute selfie, but that’s as far as Cater’s willing to go most of the time. Touch isn’t actually his preferred love language, so he doesn’t alter his behavior with you much after noticing it might be one of yours.
Other favorites of Cater’s would be throwing an arm over your shoulder to offer comfort to you, he’s pretty fine doing this in public, though he prefers to save more intimate things like actual hugging for more private areas. If you’re noticeably feeling down then you can expect Cater is the type to lean over and share his fyp with you, cute cat videos usually distract him!
And coming in second place for most shameless about contact is Ruggie, heck I even think Floyd says something about Ruggie being a touchy person. Which. Pot calling the kettle black— But yeah the hyena beastman does not care about showing tactile affection in public! Ruggie has the realization pretty early on after observing your behavior around other touchy people, and after noticing you seem to lean into him a bit whenever he’s got you in a side hug.
Don’t get me wrong, he’s not gonna be all up on you in public if that makes you a bit uncomfortable, especially if you say he’s overstepping and is acting a bit too much like a boyfriend. But if do give him permission and clearly state your boundaries then best believe he’s gonna be a law-abiding citizen!
Ruggie’s preferences for touch don’t change much in private or public, but there’s obviously some things that he’s more willing to do in the privacy of your room or his own. Cuddling is one of those! I dunno why but I really headcanon that he likes it when you’re the big spoon, like just lay your full weight on him and he’s gonna be blissed out. Crush him, he loves it and he’s right where he wants to be.
Kalim is so playfully tactile that it can get a bit overwhelming at times, he seems to always want to have a hand on you. Surprising no one, Kalim is the king of being shameless about pda. I feel like he’s actually one of the last people to notice how you react to touch because often he needs people to tell him outright if they’re not a tactile person, he’s not the best at reading social cues in my mind, but he does remember to check in with you at times. A stream of “are you sure this is okay? Wow, I never would’ve guessed you’re a touchy person!” is common whenever he remembers you might have unspoken boundaries.
Touch is definitely one of Kalim’s top love languages, that and gift giving. But often he tries to restrain his need for physical contact a bit, especially if he doesn’t know your boundaries yet. Throughout the school day you can expect Kalim to teasingly boop your nose, tug gently on your ears as he passes you in halls, and of course hit you with a surprise high five or hip bump!
After you’ve verbally stated that you’re alright with Kalim going all out with his love language then be ready to get jumped, both public and private. He will sneak up behind you in the halls and attempt to tickle your sides, it’s just because he loves seeing you laugh! Kalim and you have also devolved into playfully wrestling and throwing each other around on cushy mats and pillows that Jamil laid down with a tired sigh.
Jamil probably clocks it immediately and just files the observation away for never. He’s not the touchiest person in general and that doesn’t really change after you two get closer after the events of book 4. Touching brings him out of his comfort zone and it’s a boundary that he states very easily, though of course this boundary turns non-existent when Kalim is in the picture.
I imagine Jamil prefers words of affirmation as his love language, he expects you to compliment his cooking after every meal, but he will also offer you a simple “good job” after you get a good grade. Though he’s not very verbal about his affection, he does write letters and small, kind notes at times. I headcanon Jamil started writing to vent his frustrations about his position, he burned every letter after he was done and it made him feel somewhat better.
Sometimes he slips a sticky note underneath your door if you’ve been studying for a long time, heck I imagine he once hand delivered you a lunch with a note and never did it again after you compared the behavior to a mother’s. If you need to be touched for comfort reasons then he might step outside of his comfort zone and lay a hand on your shoulder and maybe rub your back like his mother used to do for him.
The huntsman is also someone who clocks it immediately, though Rook does also notice it’s a new development in your personality. Seriously, you thought you’d actually gone three years under his radar? Nope! It does make Rook curious, how you’ve become so willing to be touched when you used to be so touch averse…
He’s not the touchiest person in the beginning, but he does try to make sure he gets his ‘quota’ in. If Rook sees you anywhere on campus then he will change direction to collide with you, sometimes literally, and make sure he gets a healthy dose of physical contact with you. Especially if he’s noticed you’ve gone the entire day without it!
Rook loves to hold your hand, even if it’s just for a few moments, and if you’re both experiencing some free time then he’s also willing to just lay down in the courtyard and soak up some sun with you. Don’t mind the fact that he’s got a camera out, shhhh, don’t complain, the lighting is perfect out here…
Floyd makes your life a living hell after Jade tells him about your preferred love language. It doesn’t even have to be touch specifically, either way he’s suddenly doing things that might make you swoon. If he hadn’t tried to choke you during your first interaction with him.
Oh, you like gift-giving? Oh well suddenly Floyd’s got all these pretty shells to spare! Oh wait no that’s a tooth— Uh, you prefer words of affirmation? Then he’ll tell you you’re the best seadragon ever! Seven forbid one of your love languages is quality time…no one can pull the eel off of you. But touch? Oh Floyd can do touch, he loves touch, and yes that is a threat.
Floyd isn’t typical about the way he shows you physical ‘affection,’ it’s different under the sea after all. So what you might consider strange and rude is actually peak romance that Mama and Papa Leech coached him with, and he’s doing it to you. In public it’s hard to tell if he’s being tame or not, he usually throws his body into yours and sticks there like glue while ignoring all your complaints and struggling. But in private…Floyd has caught you in an empty hall once, and getting bit was once too many in your opinion.
꒰summary꒱ — you are a wallflower, creeping in the shadows to watch with eyes that have been sharpened with your affections to cut a sliver of those you observe. but, it's not enough. never enough, nothing is. you want to be known; payed attention to and revered as someone memorable. you will go to any lengths to be remembered. ꒱
꒰pairing꒱ — twisted wonderland x reader ꒱
꒰tags꒱ — stalking as a main plot point, loss of self/dissociation, mystery/whodunnit from the perspective of both the perpetrator and "detective", reader is not yuu, canon compliant + kinda treated like an event ꒱
꒰wc - 5.5k꒱ ꒰next꒱
magic is disgusting.
you hate it, abhor its very foundation for what it's done to you again and again. it's a blessing for many, yet has always been a curse for you.
for moments like these where you hover in out of sight, out of mind places that are in the open yet unrecognizable—what is a second, hour, or minute? time is but a faraway concept, as can you prove it's existence when you seem to exist outside of it? you think not.
you've been told time and time again that your bad habit of causing a ruckus will come back to bite you in the ass and pull on your tail. you always laughed those comments off, because what do they know? you'd gotten away with whatever you wanted for as long as you can remember. until now.
you are icarus. the sun, high and beautiful in the sky, called for you, and you flew too close. now you drown
ꨄ︎
life at night raven college has been hectic.
honestly, yuuri has no idea whether or not it's usually like this—it's their first time in the twisted wonderland so they have no frame of reference—but it seems everyone they know collectively agrees this year has been pretty out there.
regardless, after the last overblot, it's strangely calmed down. they've been looking over their shoulder at every other sound, constantly paranoid as to when the next event was to come, but the other shoe has yet to drop. it's been smooth sailing, or as smooth as it can be.
it's the first day of the week, and ace is being as annoying as usual. this time, however, he's going for deuce instead of them. ace was making fun of him for tripping and falling flat on his face a few hours earlier. it would make sense, as deuce makes a fool of himself almost as often as ace does, if yuuri hadn't been with deuce the whole day. she will admit that she did laugh at him—why wouldn't they take any opportunity to point and cackle in any of their faces? that'd be a waste.
grim, however, was more interested in calling ace out on how he was totally wrong, and probably crazy, too. they wonder if he just wanted to disagree with ace for the hell of it. either way, the cat reminded her that it was ace that'd been missing.
it was weird. ace might be an annoying asshole, but he usually doesn't lie or make things up, especially not when there's plenty of things to make fun of deuce for. unfortunately, before yuuri got to call him out on a dirty, stinking liar, they'd gotten sidetracked by a mission sprung upon them. by none other than the headmage, too.
crowley was speaking to them, still giving them the information needed to complete the task, when a really weird looking magical pen meandered by—as if it had somewhere to be. they spent the rest of their afternoon chasing the tsukumogami before it started cursing people.
but then it happened again. and again. gossips after whisperings of people acting strange, being in two places at once—vaugly paranormal behavior, like a ghost is haunting the halls of night raven. (rather, more ghosts. there's already a bunch that float around.)
yuuri realized something was actually afoot when they'd been talking to crowley on wednesday.
“prefect! there you are!” they stopped midstep, a groan tossed from their mouth. they were doing their best to avoid him.
“what, headmage crowley?” they try to get him to hurry. yuuri needs him to talk as quick as possible so they can resume trying to get back to ramshackle before another student asks for their help. instead, he spends many minutes scolding—moreso whining at—them for being so rude.
“that’s not the point!” he deeply sighs like anything was bothering him.
“i came to inform you that some of the teachers are complaining that students are going missing.”
yuuri blanches, eyes bulging from their head. “what?!” crowley is starkly underreacting if people are missing, especially in a place like this. they could be dead, for all they know.
“that's what i said!” he sighs. “that's nothing new. attendance here is horrible.”
that's not what they were worried about.
crowley makes no sense. he is annoying, stupid, and he makes them so, so angry. minimizing what could be a serious situation to his arrogant students simply skipping class is why there is so much trouble here in the first place! it's almost as if he neglects problems on purpose.
“regardless, the curious part is that whenever the students return,” that made more sense. yuuri thought they've yet to be found. “they act as if they don't recall the ordeal whatsoever.”
“what.”
“on the usual, whenever a student was caught skipping, they simply owned up to their wrongdoings.” crowley then frowns. “it could be a number of magical dealings, really.”
yuuri pushed through their speechlessness to dig for more details, as there is no way they can solve this off of nothing, but crowley is next to no help. they continue regardless. if he wasn't holding everything that they have to their name over their head, they'd tell him to buzz off.
all they know now is that it probably isn't ruggie. they were suspicious of him for a moment, but the supposed lack of memory doesn't add up. his unique magic did cause the person to think their actions were their own, so they weren't aware they were being controlled, but they don't think he would go through the trouble to control a person long enough for them to be considered missing—even if he could.
they finished the conversation, albeit with some urging from yuuri to stop the momologing, and crowley had finally walked off. he was muttering to himself like an insane man, but that's not their problem. unfortunately, he'd come right back and started to say the same thing almost word for word.
it wasn't as if reality itself bent to whatever was affecting him. the scenery remained the same, the stone path the two stood upon stayed still as ever, and the seven statues, tall and imposing, were there just as they are any other time. even the other students were normal, they continued to walk by as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
the being that may be crowley took half a step closer when there was a pause, where yuuri didn't recite her line.
“is everything alright, prefect?” it speaks, and the voice is perfect. accurate in almost every way… but there's something that's just… off.
inherently, people are frightened by things that mask themselves with humanity—it’s ingrained as if when cavemen were creating fire there was something that was almost human that we needed to be scared of.
they pretend their hands don't shake behind their back as they shake their head.
“no, nothing.” yuuri hopes her tone is even. “what were you saying?”
crowley… then wandered off, but, thankfully, when they looked at grim to see if he had seen that too, he confirmed their suspicions.
they've been cleaning up more than enough problems for the past few months. they’re tired.
tired of being stressed, worried, scared. tired of faking nonchalance when their life could be on the line. tired of carrying the earth like atlus. but, as the prefect, they're supposed to keep the other students in line… or something like that. more importantly, maybe they could squeeze some sort of reward from crowley by finding out who's up to no good before he even gets a clue.
whatever she tells herself her motive is, it doesn't matter when grim is in her arms and she's booking it back to ramshackle. yuuri won't look behind them, because what they don't know won't hurt. the chance that… that thing is still behind them is far too frightening.
while the two were deliberating, grim kept trying to throw jamil under the bus as the culprit. (probably because of grim’s penchant for grudges)
she could see it, though, as it was the tiniest bit similar to what he was doing to kalim… in a way. maybe he got sick of people being around him all the time and started manipulating them to…dissapear. that could be why the students lose their memories.
“not only did he promise that he won't do anything like that again, but what reason could he possibly have?” yuuri is rubbing at their temples.
there'd be nothing to gain. jamil also can't create clones, so it wouldn't explain why there were reports of people seeing double. (that wouldn't explain whatever she saw before)
“i dunno.” grim rubs his furry chin with his tiny little paw. “you need to listen to your overlord, henchman.”
they sigh. cats.
something yuuri hates about crowley is that he likes to appear out of the blue and insert himself into conversations like he'd always been a part of it. while they were arguing with grim about the semantics of them being his minion, crowley came to tell them to find the culprit. (horribly unhelpful. they were still nothing short of stumped.)
they've begrudgingly went with whatever he'd asked them to so far, but this is ridiculous.
“unlike somebody,” yuuri brazenly points at crowley. “i’ve been trying to find out what's going on.”
they sigh, slumping where they sat. “i was trying to be the best prefect i could be, but, alas…” there's a reason they've yet to lose to ace at the card game bullshit, their poker face is immaculate. maybe they should pick up acting.
opening their eyes, they look at the headmage. “if only i had some sort of incentive to work harder. especially after I've dealt with overblot after overb-”
crowley cuts them off, gingerly touching his temple like a headmage was coming in. “fine, okay.” he huffs like they're the best negotiator he's ever dealt with. “find the culprit and i'll let you actually take a day off.”
“a week off.” they barter.
“only because i'm so kind and gracious.”
they'll never get used to the old man blowing air up his own ass.
when crowley begins to describe the person they're meant to find, they started to understand just why he was so willing to agree to their terms.
“someone who never looks the same twice, but always the same soul; with a thousand faces yet none. a beast, a man, or a teapot. look closely and you see the band of black. listen, you shall hear the jingle.”
should've asked for a month.
yuuri hopes this isn't some sort of prank, because this puzzle sucks.
crowley claims to have only heard of this person in passing from a… colleague? the way he spoke of him was far too familiar for the title. they don't even want to know.
it was by dumb luck that coincidentally, grim knew someone by just that description. they managed to somewhat suspend their disbelief—maybe they go-with-the-flow too easily, and too often—while maintaining their weariness. the little bastard likes to overexaggerate his importance, they still hardly believe him.
from what they know about grim, he has no family. he had told them himself that his earliest memory is waking up alone and hungry. as depressing as it is, there's no one he should know outside of people at night raven, so the very idea that he does know who this person may be is nothing but outrageous.
yuuri’s faith in him dropped by the second when the cat started sniffing around like a dog after she agreed to make him a tuna dish she had even never heard of.
ꨄ︎
being a trickster is hard work; like anything that needs effort, it requires many, many skills. you have to be sneaky, and you have to be good at holding in your laughter. you definitely have to be a good actor and improviser, but most important is having the mind of a tactician.
you just so happen to be the best of the best. at least you'd like to say so.
your day by day isn't as exciting as you'd like, but you'll find a remedy eventually. as usual, you were wandering around campus doing as you wished. mostly petty theft of treats and trinkets you wanted—maybe a cool keychain here and a grape juice there—but you were also looking for your next target.
you get bored so, so easily. you've already had your fair share of messing with everyone around you. you've caused trouble so much and so often the majority—or the few who aren't gullible enough to not realize like that ditzy redhead—can easily figure out whenever it's you. it's no fun when it's over quickly, especially because that means you've lost your remarkability. the first time is extraordinary, the second is interesting, the eleventh is ignorable. you don't want to be ignored.
you had been considering finding your favorite victim until you were interrupted.
artemiy artemiyevich pinker—referred to as che'nya more often than not—likes to harass you. you're not sure what you've done to garner his attention, but he pesters you whenever you're caught in his line of sight. it's not often—he's one of the few you like to observe from a distance and you're quite good at not being seen—but it happens enough to be an annoyance. (you want to be admired, seen as a concept so great you're far disconnected from the rest and considered you're untouchable. you wish to be known as grand, not someone to be spoken to willy-nilly.)
today, when one of the classes you share ended, he appeared in front of you. he spoke in a spiral, round and round as he walked around you. it was quite overwhelming; too much che'nya all around you, everywhere, at the same time.
so, yes, for once, you agreed to go with your classmate to bother your rival school. sue you, but you were discombobulated. that's why oftentimes, you avoid che’nya like the plague—you can hardly stand to be close to him without losing control of yourself—but he'd personally asked you to come along with him. you agreed, but you're sure he could tell you were nervous as your face began to melt and warp before you pulled it back together.
you flew over, leisurely, right where he told you to. or, where you think he did.
he's there just as you, timed to the second to match your arrival. you're just glad you weren't late, making him wait would've been a crime. sitting side by side in a treetop, you watch his tail sweep and swish in the wind as he watches the students. you're not too sure what he wants, but you're more than happy just to stare at him—there’s so many little details to see on him.
that is, until you see a little cat run by, followed by a girl wearing a customized uniform for a dorm you're unfamiliar with, then two more students wearing red and white.
if you remember correctly, the last time che’nya tried to bring you to night raven, he had wanted to introduce you to two of his childhood friends. you think the two wore the same style of uniform… probably. (you hadn't gotten to meet them, as you freaked out and accidentally turned into a kettle, but you did get to watch from the shadows as they conversed after you calmed down.)
what's more peculiar is their headmage running after them with much less urgency.
you feel a strike of inspiration. is this what you needed, to be here and see this now to once again find your purpose? you've been stuck within monotony, doing the same few things in the same few places with the same stakes. something a little bit more dangerous might be just what you need…
“hey,” you turn to your classmate, but jump back when you see his irises so close to yours that you could count the bands of color surrounding his pupil. you're sent careening to the grass below because of your teetering, and you barely manage to catch the branch you were sitting on to pull yourself back up.
che’nya just grins, stretching out over the expanse of the wood with a grace that matches with his cat-like appearance. “yes?”
“i was gonna ask what they were up to.” you reply as you grind your teeth, pulling your body weight back up.
“whom?” he dissolves into air before reappearing upright. “the purr-refect and the clowder?”
you're unable to speak again until you're seated as the first few words took too much effort. the cat continues to smile at you, and you watch with unfortunate interest as his head turns curiously to an unnatural degree. you don't know how he's able to do that. you still lack balance when you hum in affirmation.
“no idea.” the single shrug he offers raises your irritation. “what i do know is that the spelldrive competition is in—” he looks at his wrist, “half an hour.” he doesn't wear a watch there.
che'nya is gone once again. you look around you.
“do mew want to watch the matches?” he's on the ground. you float down to follow. always chasing, you are. (why didn't you fly before instead of digging your claws into the wood? how embarrassing.)
“if you want..” you manage to spit out the words without stammering. your hands shake behind your back.
you could melt. it was like a date… or something. the two of you watching the competition together—in public, at that. you could squeal!
the bleachers were packed full of people, and loud. you're not sure how che'nya managed to get the two of you into the VIP section, but when you asked he just laughed and said something unintelligible. cats.
for some unknown reason, the games started a bit late. you may be out of the loop as to what's happening at night raven, but it's very disorganized. nothing like your school.
you were slyly peeking glances at che'nya when he suddenly began to disappear, as he likes to often do, saying he'll get food for you both. he hadn't even asked your preferences. you can't complain. it's always fascinating to watch him go, the way he dissipates like steam into thin air is so unique.
first onto the field were a bunch of people you've never seen. granted, you can only recognize about five students, and you think they're all from the same dorm… maybe. regardless, when the teams take the field, you were expecting to be bored the entire time. you're not one for magical sports—you know more about the analog kind—but you were blown away. you know not if they're any good, but you do know one of the teams had the cutest guy you've ever seen.
he's on the shorter side, at least where you're from, but still around average height. kissed by the sun, he has tanned skin and the most adorable round baby blue eyes—but, that cuteness doesn't interrupt the boyish charm from his expression and playful disposition. he runs across the field like a scamp, hanging upside-down from a flying broom, showing the brown of his roots compared to his blonde hair. the most interesting thing about him is his large, round ears with spots. spotted ears—just like the freckles you manage to see scattered over his nose when he turns while going long to catch the disk they're flinging around.
he's gorgeous.
che'nya walks over—rare for him as he enjoys appearing from thin air to spook whoever's nearby—and you hardly noticed. too busy staring. your face is hot, and not because of the sun.
“artemiy,” you mentally pull yourself together, physically forcing your flesh to stay in an understandable shape.
“call me che'nya,” he huffs. (you didn't catch the annoyed flick of one of his purple ears.)
you ignore his words.
“what's his name?” you point with an urgency, like you will die if you don't immediately know.
“whomst?” his permanent grin stretches, bushy tail swinging playfully. he knows exactly who. you'd be angry if it wasn't endearing how mischievous he can be. he teases you as if you were friends, or something so—gah! there's no time for that!
“artemiy.”
your classmate sighs, shaking his head with resignation.
“that's ruggie,” che’nya tells you as he jerks his head to the side, the best gesture he can manage with his hands full. you take a glance to see what he got, but quickly abandon the idea of eating when he continues to speak.
“you'd know that if you were looking at the huuuge screen over yonder.”
you look from the field—from ruggie—to the jumbotron. you have no idea why, but he's on it. his team is losing horribly, so he couldn't have scored. they must be showing the players. that seems to be correct, as it eventually changes to another student to show his respective name. whatever the case is, you know his name, now.
ruggie bucchi.
you're at night raven more, following that. not too often—you have your own things to do that don't include trespassing—but definitely more than before, as it is now more than zero.
if it came down to it, you would claim that your sudden presence was not for any reason other than devising the perfect trick to play on the headmage. you're collecting intel… and that's it. you just so happen to also follow behind a head of blonde hair.
ruggie isn't one to stay still, so now neither are you. you watch from afar, not from behind walls, but hiding in plain sight.
he does a lot of odd jobs. you've yet to find out why because it's not a topic that commonly comes up in colloquial conversations, but you often hear him berating the rich. a lot of the time, he's dropping little snide comments to that guy whose name you can never remember; the one he seems to trail behind just as you follow him—actually, maybe not. the two are more often than not side by side, rather than how you lurk in the shadows. (envy, sick and unwarranted, curls in your gut.)
sometimes, whenever he's in the underwater dorm working as a waiter, you manage to summon the courage to follow. the multitude of people constantly crowding every inch of available space happens to intimidate you just the slightest—it'd be such a shame to be found out as an imposter so quickly—but you take the face of one of the students to blend in. it's inconvenient, especially when their friends wander over to talk to you, but it's worth it.
it's very cold, yet you hardly mind. not when you watch ruggie flitter about with the most charming grin on his face. you're vaguely aware in the depths of your mind that it's a ‘customer service smile’, but when he's flashing it at you when walking by your table, you have to focus extra hard not to disintegrate.
it's pathetic. you have no time to be a hopeless romantic when you have a headmage to terrorize. oh, you can't help but wonder what could be if you hadn't the need. you could observe your muse forever, watching him walk and talk and breathe. you know his cadence pitch by pitch, how his gait changes per terrain to keep his stride, you're aware of how he breathes extra deeply whenever passing by a food item he can't have as if the scent is the same as the taste.
in the safety of your dorm room, you lie in your bed and squeal. he's gorgeous; so charming that he's unintentionally enchanted you so horribly. too much moe. you're not sure whether or not you'll be able to handle the sight of him without shrinking down to a teapot on the spot.
but you can't keep getting distracted.
there's no time to be wasted it can never be replenished. every waking second has to be spent doing something worthwhile to prove that meaning can be given to something inherently meaningless.
there's been enough hours, days, and years spent doing absolutely nothing. you will be remembered, for good or bad. a mark left on the planet to show that you were—you were there, you were alive, you did something.
you're going big or going home.
two weeks in the future—you had to distance yourself to create the chance of your little crush disappearing—you're infiltrating on a housewarden meeting, just to find the dynamic between them and the headmage. it could be useful information to figure out who may want to be an assistant to your ploy.
you wear a visage that isn't yours, playing the part that is the housewarden of savanaclaw, exhibiting mannerisms you've picked up on from the hours upon hours of watching his bootlicker with hearts in your eyes.
during the meeting, you may’ve been in your head the majority of the time, but you found out some insane information. you were only a little busy staring at the housewarden of the underwater dorm—you found out his name is azul ashengrotto of octavinelle because the meeting was about him.
apparently, he overblotted, and you can hardly believe it. overblots are insanely rare, considered to be naught but a rumor to many. imagine your surprise when you hear that there's been three overblots this school year.
… there's something going on at this school.
it doesn't matter. you don't care.
you're not a detective. they are not your monkeys, nor is this your circus. a mystery is not what you're here for.
headmage crowley tells the conglomerate of housewardens to keep this event along with the others deeply under wraps.
too late for that.
when you return to royal sword academy with a mind full of ideas and a grin on your face, you're stopped by a floating smile as big as yours by the front gates.
“why, hello there. or, here.” che'nya’s face floats by its lonesome before he fully comes into physicality. “anywhere, really.” he's sitting between two pillars, far above where you stand on the bridge.
“artemiy,” you stand up straight like you were a soldier before their sergeant, craning your neck to look at him up high.
he sighs as he rolls off the edge, disappearing before he hits the ground. he reappears by your side. “call me che'nya.”
you try not to avert your eyes, bouncing on your heels with excitement. “i finally got a plan.”
“really, now?” he seems interested. you can't tell if he's patronizing you or not. “i thought you'd never tire of following that hyaenidae boy around.”
you haven't, not yet. you're likely to get back to it sooner than later, not that you're to tell him. it's none of che'nya's business.
“yup,” you shrug, as if you weren't about to jump out of your skin in excitement. “came up with my magnum opus.”
che'nya's smile curves high once again, just like his spiraling tail coiling around your calf. “uehehehe…” he laughs so weirdly. “you fly too high.”
you don't flinch, but your skin starts to warm with fluster like you were a kettle atop a flame. you wonder how often he brushes his tail for it to be as fluffy as it is. cute.
he then begins to fade, purposefully slow like he wanted you to ask him to stay. “you must beware, and remain aware of the ocean.”
your smile drops, falling off your face like mud. you wanted him to ask about your idea, not tell you a riddle and disappear.
you tell yourself it doesn't matter. you don’t care. you're not friends anyway.
it's time to start putting your plan into action.
you start similarly to the scientific method with observation. for about two weeks, you followed him around approximately every few days. not too often—you would assume the headmage would eventually sense you lurking around if you were a constant—but often enough to get helpful intel that you could retain. it was simple.
you try—you really, really do. it's just so hard. not because crowley is hard to find (he's very flamboyant in both speech and looks), or because he's particularly busy (the most he does on an average day is walk around and put his hands on his hips to give a lecture). the difficulty arises because crowley is very, very annoying.
he's minorly amusing to you, but not many more people do anything other than duck away whenever he appears. that could be because the large majority of the student body are rule breakers and don't want to get hit by that whip he carries, but you doubt it. (you don't even think he's allowed to have a whip, but who's gonna stop him? he's the headmage, so he does what he wants, you guess.)
regardless, it's very difficult to gauge his relationship with the student body. how are you supposed to find out which target would give him the most emotional distress if something happened to them if he's not close to any of them? (you'll have to put a pin in that idea.)
following him is easy, except when there’s a familiar face. always around, they're everywhere but nowhere. the prefect is an anomaly that's outside of your understanding. wherever they are is where trouble usually follows. the thing is, she's usually the one handling the problems rather than crowley. you don't really know why he doesn't do much of anything; he has to be more than capable.
on this particular day, you had abandoned the headache to follow the prefect. you're sure crowley won't be doing anything revolutionary in your absence, before you left you watched him polish the frames that hold the paintings of the seven in his office for half an hour, and you didn't care to listen to him sing to himself any longer.
curiosity kills the cat.
whether common or not you've never heard of there being a prefect at night raven before; whether colloquially or officially, nobody has ever even mentioned the title. you're sure people hoping to go there would be itching to have that position, anything to get some sort of power when being a housewarden is available to a select few.
her uniform is unfamiliar, too. she's the only student who wears one like it, so she must be the only one in her dorm. which couldn't be possible as there are only seven.
the prefect is off. she's uncanny. she looks like every other person, hilariously unremarkable in almost every way but she sticks to your mind like gum in hair. you can't get her out of your thoughts, and it's driving you mad. (che'nya would've told you that everyone is mad. you shake your head to shatter the thought.)
you follow her—you were trailing after her like you were one of her sidekicks—for the majority of the day.
you walk behind her on the path featuring their seven, sit a few seats away in every class, lurk from afar during lunch.
nothing, nothing, nothing.
a waste of time, this day is. she's so quiet, often watching and listening instead of participating in what's happening around her. it's pathetic. what's the point of being around people if you wont be? utterly useless.
you were to write her off and put a pin in your investigation at the end of the day. after following her back to her dorm, you were going to return to yours. you just had to know which one she belongs to.
just as the day started, you follow her down the path of their seven. but, suddenly, the headmage cuts her off, and by extension, you.
you slink off to the side, hiding amongst the shadows cast by the trees. eavesdropping is easy when you can be as close as you are now.
“i came to inform you that some of the teachers are complaining that students are going missing.” crowley’s words make your blood freeze.
what you've been doing has been noticed.
how troublesome. you'll have to watch yourself carefully. you're not too worried, though. your tracks have been covered excellently.
“it could be a number of magical dealings, really.” crowley confirms your thoughts, and you grin with self satisfaction. of course they don't have any ideas of a culprit, you're an expert trickster, after all.
they keep talking—or, crowley talks at the prefect for a while until she finally manages to end the conversation. she really doesn't like him. you see; that could be helpful.
you watch, amused as can be, as he spins on his heel and grumbles. what a strange man, saying he's unappreciated while doing nothing that's worthwhile.
you swallow your laugh when his head turns to you. you perfectly mimic the tree you're leaning on, still and unmoving. not a breath, not a sound; undetectable.
yuu urges him to leave, one more time, and he finally returns to the school with a large flourish.
you whisper, muttering words not for anyone's ears but for the magic streaming in your veins with your blood.
you are crowley, as you are everyone but no one.
you step out from behind the treeline and into the sight of the prefect.
~ You don’t meet Ruggie during anything glamorous. It’s during something practical. A shared errand, a group assignment, maybe Crowley sending you both to handle something tedious.
~ Ruggie notices you before you notice him. It’s his instinct due to your bright feathers and confident posture. It’s clear you want to be seen.
~ His first thought? Trouble. Not because you’re mean, but because people like you attract attention, and attention attracts problems.
~ When you introduce yourself, you do it with ease. No hesitation. Ruggie knows immediately that your confidence isn’t careless, it’s a shield of sorts.
~ At a glance, Ruggie assumes you’ve never gone hungry a day in your life. He’s had more than enough experience with his own safety mechanisms so he immediately realizes how your confidence is used. However, he’s originally convinced you’d crumble the second things got rough.
~ On the other hand, you see how sharp Ruggie is right away. You admire his adaptability and analyze the way he’s always scanning, always calculating—and recognize it as survival.
~ As you both start to grow from acquaintances to friends, you choose to be near Ruggie. Not clingy—just intentional. He notices.
~ Ruggie starts doing small things for you without explaining why: grabbing extra food, warning you when something’s about to go sideways.
~ You compliment him casually—his cleverness, his instincts. He pretends it doesn’t matter. It absolutely does.
~ The two of you start to get closer as Ruggie starts to see what takes place behind the confidence. For instance, someone makes a comment about your feathers being too flashy. Ruggie snaps back before you can.
~ Later, you tell him you could’ve handled it yourself. He mutters, “Yeah. I know.”
That’s when you realize he doesn’t protect you because he thinks you’re weak—he does it because he cares. This directly contradicts his first impression of you.
~ The first real crack in your confidence happens when you’re alone with him. You admit that being seen all the time is exhausting. Ruggie admits—just as quietly—that he envies how unapologetic you are.
~ It clicks then: You both built armor. Yours shines. His bites. That’s when the dynamic between you two shifts.
~ One night under the star-speckled sky, you and Ruggie are just relaxing. It’s one of the moments you don’t have to put up a front and he doesn’t have to be running around doing a million things at once.
~ The moonlight catches your feathers just right. Ruggie admits under the dark sky that when you two first met, he thought you were untouchable. You admit you never thought he would let anyone close.
~ The space between you feels heavy. You ask softly, “So what are we doing?” He answers just as quietly, “…Not letting this go..”
~ (In the relationship!) Ruggie is the only person you don’t feel the need to “display” for. You’re the only one who notices when he’s pushing himself too hard—and calls it out gently.
~ (In the relationship!) You help him realize he deserves good things without having to hustle for them. He grounds you when the world gets loud. You remind him he’s allowed to want more than survival.
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A/N: I am so very sorry for whoever requested this! For some reason, the request was deleted, but I hope you enjoyed this piece as much as I did writing it! This was my first male reader and first time writing headcanons so hopefully it’s up to par! Enjoy!
You and Ruggie have been together for about seven months. During the time leading up to Leona’s overblot, the two of you grew closer. You showed him how he’s more than just a lowly hyena, and he helped you adapt to the perplexing world that is Twisted Wonderland.
As summer break approached, you were plagued with the question of where you would go during summer break. Crowley suggested out of the ‘kindness’ of his heart that you can stay and take care of Night Raven College. Ace and Deuce both offered to talk to their respective families about having you over for the summer. However, you ended up deciding to take your boyfriend up on the offer of coming with him to his small hometown.
Ruggie was secretly hoping you wouldn’t spend the summer with him. Of course he wanted to see you, but he was a nervous wreck about you seeing where he comes from. The dusty, rundown roads of his hometown weren’t the best for wowing his lovely s/o in his opinion. But the worst part of it all was his own rundown home. Ruggie’s granny attempted to keep the house well-kempt to the best of her abilities, but she was getting older, and Ruggie wasn’t there full time to help.
The two of you travelled to the Sunset Savannah when the Night Raven College year let out. You gushed the entire way there how excited you were to meet Ruggie’s granny and see where he grew up.
“Doll, it’s really not that impressive, no need to hype it up.” He says with a laugh trying to hide his nervousness. His shifty eyes make it fairly obvious though.
When you two arrive in his small town, you are immediately swarmed by young children. They all gush over how beautiful you are and start begging Ruggie to play with them. As the children start to drag you both away, they are interrupted by an older feminine voice.
“Children! Let them rest, they’ve only just arrived!” You look up from the children to see who you can only assume to be Ruggie’s granny. You smile at her, and she returns the same smile.
“Ruggie, help them with their stuff! Come inside both of you!” She says with a smile as she reaches for your arm and starts walking with you back in the direction of her home.
The three of you go to the house and Ruggie’s granny insists on you sitting and relaxing after your trip and instructs Ruggie to help prepare dinner. You giggle as your boyfriend is practically dragged away to the kitchen. As you wait, you look at the photographs around the room. The walls are filled with photos of who you can only assume to be small Ruggie, smiling at the camera with a donut and two missing front teeth. You chuckle at the adorable picture, only to be interrupted by your boyfriend’s laugh beside you.
“shheheheshee, that photo of me is absolutely terrible. It’s from my fourth birthday. Granny always makes donuts for my birthdays.” He says with a smile, reaching down to hold your hand.
You smile up at him, “I think it’s cute.” He chuckles, “Whatever you say, doll.”
You both stand there in silence, just looking at the photographs littering the walls, hands intertwined. After a moment, Ruggie speaks up.
“I’m sorry that my place isn’t all… flashy and stuff. I know it’s small and kind of run down-“ You immediately look up at him. “What? Ruggie, I love your town and your house! It’s all very cozy and I can tell the community is happy, that’s what matters.”
He stares down at you for a second, scanning your face for any signs of a lie, only to find none. He shakes his head and chuckles, “You’re something else, you know that?”
You grin, “Says the pot to the kettle, Bucchi.”
You both playfully banter back and forth the rest of the night. You enjoy a hearty meal made by Granny Bucchi, and snuggle up with your boyfriend later that night. He glances down at your sleeping form. His granny speaks up, “I don’t know how you got them Ruggie, but you better never lose them.” She says in a voice that’s half teasing, half serious. Ruggie nods, “Trust me Granny, I know.”
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A/N: This was my first time writing g/n reader so I tried my best, so sorry if I made a mistake! Ruggie pulls my heartstrings so I wanted to write this 😁
the newest “student” at night raven college, whom almost always had a fire breathing cat-creature on their shoulder, and couldn’t seem to escape the chaos that is the two Heartslabyul first years.
you.
although magicless, from a different world, and not even in an actual NRC dorm, you seem to fit in perfectly alongside everyone else. not only that, you’re a kind soul who likes giving to others- after all, the community service you did in your world was for a reason.
you’ve been at night raven for only a few days. you had some free time after classes were over, so you wandered around campus. during your aimless wandering, you find yourself outside of the school store, Mr. S’ Mystery Shop. the building looked as inviting as the name- dark and definitely mysterious. you’d heard stuff about the store and this “Mr S” character, but this would be the first time encountering both. with a deep breath, you push open the door to enter the store.
“welcome in, my little imp!” a bright, cheery voice greets from inside the store. in no time, a tall, darker skinned man with intricate facial markings, an interesting outfit with bone accents, and a top hat, is standing right in front of you. you jump, slightly startled.
“didn’t mean to spook you, little imp. I am Sam, the owner of this quaint little store.” Sam introduces with a flourish, making a grand gesture with his arms. “look around! i’m sure you’ll find something you like.” he says, then moves to let you walk around the store.
the building, though looking small, seemed to stretch on forever. rows of shelves lined with mysterious, cryptic, and strange items made up the bulk of the shop. as you walk around, you can hear sam greet someone that just came in. you peek around to look, and see a guy around your age with sandy blond hair and animal ears engaging with sam. you recognize him as Ruggie Bucchi, a second year in Savanaclaw, who serves as the housewarden Leona’s right hand man.
shrugging, you continue looking around, finally picking up a couple odds and ends that seemed interesting and weren’t pricey. when you went to pay, Ruggie was getting his items scanned by Sam. he was purchasing a couple cheap snacks, and when the price came up, he sighed heavily.
“Sam, let me pay you back some other time… i don’t have any money on me right now,” Ruggie frowns, mustering up his best puppy dog eyes.
Sam lifts an eyebrow, “Ruggie, you said that last week. you have to pay.. my friends on the other side won’t like it if you don’t.”
that warning sends a shiver down your spine. you step over to Ruggie and Sam, wallet in hand. “i can cover it, Sam.” you say, smiling up at Ruggie.
It was a small smile. a simple gesture. but that upward curve of your soft lips made Ruggies heart stop. his blue eyes went wide, his cheeks becoming dusted over with a blush. he wondered how soft your lips actually were, how they’d feel against his own….. hold on, what!? what was he thinking? he shook his head to drown the thoughts while you set down more than enough thaumarks to cover both of your guys’ purchases. Items in hand, you leave, gently patting Ruggies shoulder.
“U-uh, i’ll see you later, Sam!” ruggie exclaims hurriedly, grabbing his snacks and running out after you. “hey, wait!” you turn around at the sound of his voice, tilting your head in question.
Ruggie catches up to you, a boyish yet shy grin on his face. “hey, thanks for paying back there. you didn’t have to.”
you laugh a little bit, the sound joyous and warm. it melts ruggies heart. “it’s no problem. i enjoy helping those around me.” you say, reassuring him. he nods, the motion quick and choppy.
“yeah. yeah, that makes sense. i do too.” he stumbles over his words, too focused on you. what was wrong with him? he’s supposed to be this mischievous hyena, a powerful lions right hand man. yet in this moment, standing awkwardly in front of you, he’s a melting mess of emotions. utterly ruined.
and, without your knowledge, utterly yours.
with a small wave, you walk back to the main building of the campus, going to meet with Ace and Deuce. the encounter with Ruggie weighed on your mind, but was a weight you were comfortable with and openly accepting of.
ruggie stood there like a statue, watching as you left. the way you carry yourself and the sway of your body had him completely entranced. it took a bird almost landing on his head for him to finally move.
later, he’s laying in his room, finally free from leona’s endless demands. being free from leona means one thing- he gets to think about you again. he mentally hits himself for not at least getting your Magicam ID. but then again, because he didn’t get anything to communicate with you, he gains a solid enough reason to talk to you again.
as he drifts off to sleep that night, he can’t get this new student out of his head, whom has almost completely rewritten his psyche just with their gentle beauty and giving personality.
he couldn’t wait to see you again.
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authors note~~ first post! i like writing. dedicated to my bff 💗 follow for more like this, perhaps?
A/N: ooohhh.... Ruggie.... My man..... Auuugghhhh I need him so bad it's not even funny anymore......
ruggie had worked plenty of jobs before. honestly, if someone offered enough madol, he'd probably find a way to do almost anything. so when you started paying him to help out around ramshackle—fixing things, carrying supplies, running errands, helping grim after one of his many disasters—he didn't think much of it. it was easy money, and you were one of the few people who actually paid him fairly. at least, that was what he thought at first. what ruggie didn't notice was that every now and then, you'd quietly slip a little extra into the envelope. nothing outrageous. just enough that he wouldn't immediately suspect anything. a few extra thaumarks here. a little bonus there. you always figured he worked harder than he let on, and if anyone deserved a little kindness, it was him. besides... maybe you liked seeing the way his face lit up whenever he got paid. maybe a little too much.
the problem was that eventually, ruggie noticed. one evening, after finishing another job for you, he sat down to count his earnings and immediately realized the numbers weren't adding up. again. the amount in his wallet was far more than it should have been. at first, he thought there had to be some mistake. then he started remembering all the previous times the totals had seemed strangely generous. suddenly, the truth became painfully obvious. the next day he confronted you about it, expecting you to deny it. instead, you admitted everything immediately. the look on his face was heartbreaking. for a moment he just stared. then he laughed, but it sounded suspiciously shaky. "y'know," he muttered, rubbing at his eyes, "normal people don't just go around giving away money like this." you tried explaining that he deserved it, that he worked harder than almost anyone you knew, but somehow that only made things worse. ruggie's smile cracked completely. before you could react, he'd stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you. the hug was tight enough to nearly knock the air from your lungs. for a few seconds he didn't say anything at all. then you felt him trembling. years of scraping by, years of never having enough, years of having to fight for every little thing suddenly caught up with him all at once. "you're gonna make me cry, y'know that?" he laughed weakly, even as he buried his face against your shoulder. the confession slipped out before you could overthink it. you admitted that maybe the extra money wasn't entirely because he worked hard. maybe it was because you liked him. a lot. for one terrifying second, he froze. then he pulled back just enough to stare at you like you'd completely lost your mind. "seriously?" when you nodded, his ears flattened and his eyes immediately watered again. "you gotta stop saying stuff like that..." he mumbled, smiling so hard it almost hurt to look at. "makes it really hard not to fall for ya." the moment you realized what he'd said, your face lit up. ruggie immediately groaned and hid his face in your shoulder again. "yeah, yeah, i like you too. happy?" judging by the way you hugged him back, the answer was very obviously yes.
Synopsis: You find out your phone actually does work and get your first text that isn't from a family member, then you run into another evil ginger.
Words: 2000+
AN: I might try to make it a habit of uploading/working on the fic or asks during the week, and taking a nice break over the weekend so I don't burn out :3 As always enjoy, and we're getting closer to the Mc witnessing their first Overblot!
TWS: Do embarrassing nicknames count?
A chime from your phone breaks you out of your study flow.
Not because it’s loud, but because you’ve never had anyone actually text you. You open your contacts trying to figure out who it could be, shocked to find Ruggie’s face right under your dad’s contact.
Of course he snuck his number onto your phone. “wanna get lunch w me?” It's such a simple message, it immediately puts you on guard. Sure, Ruggie was an acquaintance, but getting lunch together seemed like a friends thing.
“Am I buying?”
“you know it 😋”
“I don’t got the money for two biggies like us”
“What’s a ‘biggie?’”
Ruggie’s been slowly exposing you to more internet slang since his realization that you are someone who’s never touched something like Magicam. He sneaks in nonsensical words like ‘’biggies’’ into your conversations and always has an explanation ready for you, he even seems to look forward to whenever you ask about slang you heard in class.
“don’t worry about it, biggie”
“sooooooooo?”
“are you buying me lunch or what?”
“I don’t know, I’ve got a lot of work to do…” You’ve steadily been chipping away at your pile of worksheets, but the essays aren’t as easy to just get over with. You’re going to put your phone down and get back to work when it buzzes in your hand again, Ruggie’s dopey grin staring you down.
“I can’t believe youre abandoning me in my hour of need??”
“twin I am STARVING”
“don’t let your little buddy starve!”
He is actually so annoying.
Ruggie’s thrown an arm around your shoulder, keeping you close like he’s afraid you might run off and he’ll lose out on lunch. The lunch that is supposed to be free, but apparently that only applies to the small portions the kitchen ghosts hand out. If you’ve got a big appetite, then you’re pretty much doomed.
You’re here, trapped by the weight of Ruggie’s arm, because you cannot in fact let your “little buddy” starve. If only you weren’t so desperate for a friend to keep the one person who doesn’t seem inclined to hate you nearby. What’s the saying, “Keep your situational friendships closer” or something like that?
“What do you want?” You ask roughly, wallet in hand and soul ready to leave your body. Ruggie peruses the buffet-style set up, you imagine he’s calculating how much money you’re willing to spend on him. A dish catches your eye and you move to take—
“I’ll take one of these!” Ruggie shoves a chicken sandwich onto your (shared) tray, and when you look back the dish you had been eyeing was gone. It’s fine, you’ll just get— “Oh, and a side of this!” The hyena forces yet another plate onto your tray, and you can only watch in disdain as someone swipes up another dish you’d wanted.
“I’m being ragebaited.” Ruggie looks up with pure joy at your sentence, “Oh hey, that’s a new word for ya!” You want to knock that dorky smile off his face, but you also don’t? The emotions are contradictory and it's a new feeling to not absolutely despise or be annoyed by someone.
You never would’ve thought Ruggie and you would make a good duo. He was creative and adapted to your dry wit easily, always knowing just what buttons of yours to push to keep you hooked. He also had his funny moments, but you would rather die than ever admit that to anyone.
“I’m gonna hit someone.”
“Let’s not do that before I get Leona’s grilled cheese, ‘Kay buddy?” You raise a brow, did he expect you to pay for his housewarden’s lunch? “I am not paying for Leona's lunch.”
Ruggie gasps and glares at you with mock offense, a playful tilt of his lips stretching across his face. “I would never ask you too! Shihihi, nah buddy, Leona gave me funds for his sandwich so no worries.” He punctuates his sentence with a wink and starts waving you off, “Go pay for our junk and get us some seats, yeah? Imma go get that grilled cheese and then we can chow down!”
“If you’re not back in ten I’m eating your casserole.”
You find an area fairly removed from the bustle of the cafeteria, the table isn’t sticky, and the chairs don’t creak dangerously when you lean back to wait for Ruggie. All in all it’s a good spot, you might make this your table if Ruggie keeps dragging you around to buy him lunch.
You poke at the stuffed bread to pass the time, Ruggie had actually recommended you try it and seeing as your other options kept being snatched away? You had silently taken the dish and resigned yourself to trying something new.
Now, you didn’t consider yourself a picky eater. You just preferred to partake in textures and flavors you already knew you liked. On the other hand maybe you are somewhat picky.
The click of a camera forces you from your thoughts.
A ginger leans over your table, his camera out as he admires your plate. “You’ve got some amaze taste! OMG, your food is so magicam-able!”
(You have to stop yourself from trying to punch the guy after a certain ginger freshman flashes in your mind…)
You visibly bluescreen, trying to understand the Heartslabyul student who speaks like he’s from a different planet. Amaze? Omg? Magicam-able? You don’t even think that last one is a word.
“Uh, thanks?” It sounds more like a question but the ginger beams sunnily at you, you seriously think about investing in some sunglasses. “Totes! I should be thanking you ngl, can I post these to my Magicam? Actually gimme your user so I can tag you!”
You robotically rattle off the page Ruggie forced you to make and he grins, “Cool! BTW I’m Cater, but you can call me Cay-Cay!”
You are not calling him that.
You don’t even have a nickname for Ruggie, basically the only person you’d be comfortable giving one, and using one as childish as Cay-Cay? It might genuinely put you in a grave.
“…Hi, Cater, I have no nicknames so just call me by my name.”
“Awwh!” Sympathy drips off the man in droves as he seems to come to a realization: You’re one of those people. He had wondered what you were doing shoved away in this admittedly well-lit corner, turns out you’re just a misplaced introvert! “No nicknames? Not even a little one like ‘cutie’ or ‘sweetie?’ You look like a sweetie!”
You’re going to tell him off and demand that he never call you that again, but then you make eye contact with Ruggie who stands just a few feet away. The hyena’s face is visibly red, his chest rising and falling with wheezy, half-formed cackles. Over Cater’s shoulder, he mouths at you, “Sweetie?”
You might need to start digging that grave.
“No, nobody calls me anything and I prefer it that way.”
“Well you clearly don’t have good friends!” You have one friend and he is laughing at you. And you paid for that damn hyena’s lunch! “Hey buddy, I leave for five minutes and you’ve already replaced me?”
Ruggie genuinely sounds hurt as he approaches you and the ginger, his hand folded over his heart while his ears are pinned against his sandy curls. “I’m hurt, didn’t know I was so expendable to my own best buddy!”
Let the record state you are not his best anything, and that you’ve disowned this man on account of his blatant betrayal. You don’t know why, but Cater seems really happy you actually do have a friend, even if he seems kinda sleazy. “Oh hey! I was just keeping your bud company, nice to know they weren’t actually alone!”
“Shihihi, yeahhh, buddy over there likes to self-isolate in corners. No worries, they’re right where they wanna be.”
“OMG, I have a cute little junior just like that, I bet they’d get along!”
The two talk over you as Ruggie plants his hip on the table, the lean line of his body pitching against you while he wraps an arm around your shoulder. It's an utterly shameless pda, which you refuse to like because that will only encourage this behavior, and the ginger momentarily coos over both you and Ruggie. At least Ruggie seems kinda icked out by that too. It’s the small things!
Cater and him chat about you specifically, and the way they speak kind of reminds you of the way two moms swap stories about their antisocial kids. You just wanted to eat some good food, man.
“See ya!”
“TTYL!”
Oh thank the Seven one of them is gone. Except that does leave you alone with Ruggie, who still leans heavily on your side, he even has the gall to rest his elbow on your head. It’s a position that he seems way too comfortable with.
You gave him an inch and he took a mile.
“I woulda rescued you sooner, sweetie, but ya looked like you were havin’ so much fun!” No, you weren’t, and the dastardly hyena knew that. You glare at him, harshly shoving your fork into your bread and you hope all your violent thoughts are appropriately communicated. “Hey, c’mon! Leave your poor food alone, I swear ya don’t appreciate the things I get for ya…”
“I bought this, and get offa me you’re clinging—“ You shake Ruggie off, waving him away when he tries to slip his hand back onto your shoulder. He was the touchiest person you had ever known, and it was somewhat jarring. “Yeahhhhh, but I picked it out for ya! So it’s the thought that counts, ain’t that right?”
The answer he gets is a glare and the sight of you further mutilating your meal. The “thought” doesn’t amount to much if you were the one who spent a good chunk of madol in that lunch line.
“Okay, okay, I hear your complaints, and imma promise to scrape up some madol for ya. Are we cool?” You stare him down, trying to see if the hyena was actually being genuine. You’re not actually sure what you see in those blue-gray eyes that makes you believe him, but you sigh and stop torturing your food.
“…Yeah, fine, we’re cool. Did you get Leona his sandwich?” Ruggie flashes you a grin and a thumbs up, holding up the sandwich like a trophy. “You know it! You wanna run this over to him with me after we eat?”
“Don’t you have Spelldrive practice?” You deadpan at the hyena as he deflates dramatically, his body flopping onto the table. “Aww man, ya just had to remind me! Man, I’ve got so much to do today.”
A tiny flicker of guilt pulses through you, then the annoyance overpowers it. “If you’re so busy then I guess you should take your food and go, hm?”
“Meh…”
Ruggie starts to eat and you follow his example at a much slower pace, picking at the stuffing of the bread and rolling it around on your plate. You find yourself sitting there, counting down the minutes until Ruggie runs off to one of his jobs and you can get back to your schoolwork.
You’re not…as excited to split off from him as you might’ve been a few days ago.
“Oh hey, I know how we can keep hangin’ out! Just come to Spelldrive practice!”
You raise a brow, “And do what? I’m not exactly the most athletic, I’d just be watching like some creep.”
Ruggie grins cheekily, “Yeah but you’ll be my creep, we’ll get ya some Savanaclaw merch and bam! I got my own Spelldrive cheerleader!”
“Yeah no, never gonna happen.”
“Awh, c’mon!”
Later that night, as your roommates sleep, you quietly sit on your bed, scrolling on your phone. You were a part of Scarabia, you’d be expected to wear your Dorm colors during their matches.
But you find a Savanaclaw/Scarabia Spelldrive merch bundle for sale and catch yourself ordering it and tickets for the tournament. You go to sleep actually excited about something that night.
