✦Ily✦

pt.1, pt.2, pt.3

synopsis; you are bored, so want to prank your beloved. how so? why, by calling him his title(s), of course!

cws; suggestive language .

contains; neuvillette, xiao, childe, aether, baizhu, zhongli, dahlia, albedo, bennett, venti.

a/n: I added albedo! (ngl I thought I already added him but looking at my previous smaus, apparently not🥲)

₊˚ෆ idol au!lohen x manager! gn! reader.

⤷ managing a high energy soloist is tough, even more so when he keeps texting you outside of work hours—so what are you to him?

╰─▸ ❝ Twisted Wonderland x reader!

Scoliosis

featuring — Leona : Floyd : Vil : Rook : Malleus.

⸝⸝ Leona Kingscholar

Leona was on his way back to his dorm, yawning lazily as he strolled through the hallway, when his eyes narrowed at the sight of you. There you were, stubbornly clutching five thick textbooks to your chest, your face twitching slightly in pain.

“Oi” he called out, walking faster to catch up to you, his voice low and sharp. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You flinched and tried to brush it off with a smile, insisting you were fine, but Leona wasn’t buying it. He closed the distance and snatched the stack of books from your hands.

“You know you’re not supposed to lift heavy crap with your back hurting, especially with your condition.” he scolded, his brow furrowing in irritation. “You’re gonna make it worse. Don’t be an idiot.”

When you mumbled “it was fine, really” he shot you a dry look. “Yeah, until it isn’t.”

He shifted the books under one arm and jerked his head for you to walk with him. “Next time I see you doing this, I’ll carry you back to bed myself. Don’t test me.”

Though he grumbled the whole way, he slowed his pace so you wouldn’t strain yourself.

⸝⸝ Floyd Leech

In Physical education class, you tried to keep up with the running drills, even though your back had been aching since morning. You were mid-sprint when Floyd’s eyes caught you from the sidelines, his grin faltered into a frown. He knew about your scoliosis, and the way you were pushing yourself made his chest tighten in irritation.

“Oi, shrimpy” he called, stepping right into your path. “What are you doin’? You’re not supposed to be runnin like that.”

You tried to tell him that it was just for grading day, but Floyd’s frown twisted into a pout. “Tch. You’re so stubborn.”

He tugged you gently by the wrist toward Coach Vargas, his tone unusually serious. “Coach, they’re sittin out. Doctor’s orders.”

Vargas sighed, told you that you should have spoken up, and let you sit out.

Floyd leaned close, poking your forehead. “You keep this up, and I’ll carry ya everywhere myself, got it?” His teasing grin returned but there was a flicker of protectiveness behind his mismatched eyes.

⸝⸝ Vil Schoenheit

Every morning before breakfast, Vil made sure you followed a gentle stretching routine with him. The sunlight through the dorm windows cast a warm glow as he guided you through slow, controlled movements. “Steady… don’t overextend” he reminded you, watching your posture with sharp, trained eyes. His attention to detail never wavered, even during something this simple.

He corrected your stance with light touches, a hand at your elbow, fingers at your shoulders, repositioning you with the calm ease of someone who cared deeply. “These stretches will help your muscles support your spine better.” he explained, his voice level but undeniably warm. “Consistency is the key to reducing your pain. But if anything feels too much, tell me.”

When you finished, he offered you a faint smile. “Well done. Your dedication is admirable, truly.” He handed you a glass of water before brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Now, let’s eat, darling. You need proper nutrition to match that discipline.”

⸝⸝ Rook Hunt

You were in the lounge, hunched over your notes without realizing how much time had passed. Rook walked in with a little hum, but paused the moment he saw you still glued in the same position he had found you in earlier.

“Mon amour” he said softly, walking closer to you, “how long have you been sitting like that?”

You blinked up at him, confused, then tried to stretch, only to immediately regret it as you winced in discomfort.

Rook let out a small, amused sigh. “Ah. I thought so.”

He gently closed your notebook and gestured for you to stand. “Come, stretch a bit. Such stillness is a foe to your spine, especially with your condition.”

He walked you through a simple shoulder roll and side stretch, nothing big, just enough to loosen your muscles. “Better?” he asked once you relaxed a little.

He smiled when you nodded. “Good. Even hunters need to move once in a while.”

⸝⸝ Malleus Draconia

Night at Diasomnia was peaceful as you and Malleus prepared for bed. Before you could flop onto the mattress the way you usually did, Malleus gently touched your arm, his expression calm but serious. “My dear, remember what we discussed.” he murmured. His eyes flicked to your pillow and the position you were about to sleep in.

He helped adjust your pillow so your neck stayed aligned, smoothing the blanket with care. “A supportive position eases the tension in your spine.” he explained in that soothing, deep voice. He guided you to lie down carefully, ensuring your back was properly supported before he settled beside you.

Once you were comfortable, he brushed his fingers through your hair and whispered, “Good. This will help you rest without waking in pain.” As your eyes grew heavy, you felt him drape an arm around you protectively. “Should your back trouble you tonight.” he added softly, “I will be here.”

Hello, my Filo bestie! Sorry this took so long, I hope you like it.

In which you and the Overblot Boys/Ruggie are co-parents to your child/children.

Fluff/Angst/Hurt-Comfort, depending on the character. Fem!AFAB!Reader in-mind. Previous relationship? Requested by @echosofmortality on behalf of me :)

Riddle Rosehearts

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, codependency, obsession, threat of self-harm/suicide, brief threat of murder)

clingy, codependent boyfriend azul who must always keep his hands on you at all times, especially when you’re out in public. in the beginning it looked cute and harmless. “he can’t stay away from you. it’s endearing how attached he is! he must really love you,” friends would comment, all sly smiles as they wondered if he’d propose. you’ve only been together six months. surely you aren’t “the one” azul’s looking for. (how wrong you are.) he loves to hold your hand or keep his arm wrapped around your waist. he’s really so sweet, always keeping close to you for various reasons: you’re warm and he’s cold. your hand looks lonely; let him hold it. it’s always a better day when he gets to hug you. you’re just so cute when you’re flustered. he loves you so much. how can he possibly stay away?

clingy, codependent boyfriend azul who texts you every. single. day. it’s cute for all of one month and then it becomes a chore. he requires a response each time, and if you leave him on read he panics. did he say the wrong thing? were you busy and did he interrupt? are you upset with him? do you want him to stop? is he doing something wrong? he just wants to wish you a good morning, ask how your day is, remind you to eat, tell you about this new place he’s found and wants to take you to. he’s not being annoying or smothering, right? he likes you. it’s normal for people to text frequently when they’re in love. multiple times a day? maybe. multiple times a day at nearly every hour? that…can’t be normal.

clingy, codependent boyfriend azul who tailors his wardrobe to your tastes. he can be your well-dressed, well-off boyfriend if you like handsome luxuries. he can be your lazy lover on the weekends, dressed in sweatpants and sweatshirts because it’s a relaxation day and he can’t be bothered to look good. you’ll like him in anything, won’t you? he can be anything you want him to be. it’s in an octopus’s nature to camouflage and contort. he’ll do whatever it takes to be your ideal. after all, if he can’t exist in your world, there is no point in existing anywhere.

clingy, codependent boyfriend azul who smiles through the encroaching panic attack when you’re going on a weekend trip with your friends. it’s friends only. no boyfriends. no azul. no azul. no azul. no azul. he tells you to travel safely, to have a good trip, to send lots of pictures, and most importantly to text him. you’re staying at a cabin. there won’t be any wifi. throughout the weekend, none of his messages go through and you don’t send him anything. he tells himself you’re just occupied, but that excuse crumbles when he begins to worry. and then he’s spiraling. and he’s so worried—more worried than he’s ever been. what if you got hurt? what if you never made it to your destination? what if one of your friends did something to you? what if you found someone else? did you run away? you ran away. you must’ve because he’s unbearable. did someone kill you? are you lying on the side of some abandoned road, sliced to bits, painted in a cruel crimson? you’re dead. you left and went and died on him because he’s unbearable. because he’s ugly and clumsy. because he can never keep his mouth shut. because he’s so unhealthy when he binge-eats. because he’s gross. because he’s azul. he drives the long distance to the cabin just to find you. when you open the door and see him in such a frantic, disheveled state, the smile on your face falls. you aren’t dead. you didn’t run away. your friends don’t think it’s cute anymore. it’s been a year.

clingy, codependent boyfriend azul who brings you to meet his parents. it’s official. you’re the only one he’ll ever love. he’s never known love to this degree. he thinks he’d sooner beach himself than imagine you with anyone else. he wants to marry you, but it’s been a year and for some reason that’s “too early.” he’s dropped subtle hints that he intends to propose, but maybe it’s too subtle. he never knows what humans consider subtle. his parents adore you, especially his mother. oh, she’s all over you when you come to visit. she reminds you of azul, but then of course she would because they’re family. she thinks you and azul make such a charming couple. his father congratulates you. when you look at him in confusion, he asks, “aren’t the both of you engaged?” your gaze slides to azul. he smiles, and that says everything. apparently he’s written a fun narrative without you knowing. in it, the both of you are soon to be wed. you fail to remember that red doesn’t stay forever in the ocean. it dissolves, or it’s snapped up in a predator’s jaws. red flags don’t last long here. it’s been a year, but to azul it’s an eternity. sitting at the dinner table, poking at your food, you realize you don’t want to marry him.

clingy, codependent boyfriend azul who tells you he’ll kill himself if you leave him. you have a habit of seeing your friends often. there are too many people in your life. there should only be azul. he tells you of every way he can end his life and each one is more painful than the last. he’s been spiraling a lot lately, always so fearful that you’ll abandon him. it’s been a year and six months. you’re the gold who repairs his shattered ceramic. you worry about him. you’ve taken to hiding and locking sharp objects away. you’ve scoured your home to make sure medicines are accounted for. you check receipts to make sure he hasn’t bought anything strange: a length of rope, duct tape, razor blades, and so on. you make him wear short sleeves to keep an eye on his arms. you watch him sort his medication for the week. he has to take it. you remind him of this. it’s important. you rifle through trash bags to ensure you won’t find any discarded pills. when you sleep beside him at night, you wonder if this is going to be your life should you marry him. you can’t live in fear. it’s not your job to watch over him. it’s not fair for you or your mental health to worry yourself ill. but you will worry because he’s told you time and time again that you’ll be the reason he dies young. you dream of his funeral a lot. you hate dreaming now. it’s been too long since you’ve known peace.

clingy, codependent boyfriend azul who finally proposes after two years. you let him slide the ring on your finger. you feel the last of your soul wither away when he declares you his soon-to-be spouse. he promises to be a good husband. he knows things have been rough lately, but he can be better. he’s always improving—always changing. always camouflaging. for a while, he’s…normal. healthy. sane. you think your acquiescence to the marriage proposal has fixed a broken part of him. his smiles reach his eyes now. he tells you he’s managing himself. he wants to be better for you. he will be better. it’s a promise.

months later, you’ve hid yourself in the bathroom, locked the door, pressed your body against it to keep azul out. your hand is gripping the door handle so tightly that your knuckles ache. on the other side, azul is whispering to you through the door, telling you he’s sorry for scaring you, please come out, please forgive him, he won’t hurt you, please give him another chance, please, please, please, please, please please, please, please, please. he’s chased you into a corner—quite literally—and he’s holding a knife. he said he’d kill you if you talked to another person without his knowledge (he’s been monitoring your phone and laptop usage). you spent too much time on the phone today. that’s what prompted this. too much time on the phone with a friend you haven’t talked to in months. azul is scary when he spirals. today just happened to be the worst of many bad days. you’re engaged and the wedding is in a few months. you worry what’s next. will he truly kill you? what’s he capable of when he gets like this? you hate to stay long enough to learn.

there’s no way out except into his arms. and even if you did get out and get him the help he so obviously needs, you always worry. because if you aren’t in his world, there isn’t a world. there’s just emptiness, and emptiness is not home, sweetest home for azul. if you aren’t here with him, he’d rather sleep six feet deep.

so you open the door, tell him it’s okay, and let him hold you tight while he sobs his sorries into your shoulder. he’s shaking, but then so are you.

AS A RIDDLE STAN??? YOU'RE SO BIG BRAINED??? LIKE ok yeah with him being the perfect kid and all and his mom I always wondered (a perfectly healthy and normal amount) what would happen if he got MC pregnant?

That Ruggie fic was so real!! So well done!! If you don't mind, could you elaborate what you think would happen with Riddle? You don't have to write a whole fic or anything! Just briefly share your thoughts with the class (me) if you would be so kind please!! 🤓

Frothing at the mouth,

Riddlelover69

Hello, Riddlelover69!!! Allow me to share the thoughts. >:D

(cw: brief nsfw, female reader, accidental pregnancy, mentions of alcohol/intoxication, riddle's mother, fwb dynamic, mentions of abortion)

Riddle is floored when you break the news to him. He's in so much disbelief even after you've provided him with physical evidence (the pregnancy test). He insists you take another one just to be sure because he's so certain that you can't possibly be pregnant. He has always been so careful and responsible when the two of you were intimate; he made sure to wear protection each time and he never did anything reckless. But then the second test comes back positive and he's absolutely stunned. Where did he go wrong? How did this happen? He's never been careless. This must be a mistake!

Riddle lives in denial for three days before it occurs to him. Weeks prior to this discovery, the both of you were attending a stargazing party Cater had thrown in the Heartslabyul rose maze. He'd practically begged Riddle to let him host it. Apparently it was going to be "super cammable" and a "perfect opportunity for lots of stupid fun." Riddle should have known his angle when he slipped vodka into the fruit punch Trey made, and he should have realized the wine Cater had been discreetly serving everyone. "Stupid fun" must have meant stupid drunk. Where he even got the alcohol from was beyond Riddle. He had intended to scold him; he was ready to sever his head for breaking so many rules. But then you were passing a glass into his hand and he knew it would be wrong and inappropriate for him to drink when he was meant to be the upstanding, always obedient Housewarden.

You were smiling, nudging him playfully, saying something teasing. The two of you are close friends (fuck buddies, according to Cater), not lovers, and Riddle really shouldn't have entertained your blatant rule-breaking. But lately he's wanted to impress you; he wanted to show you that he can be cool—that he's not always so stiff and formal and boring. Great Seven, he nearly died from the shame when you had jokingly said that to him. He doesn't want to be boring. He wants to be fun and not so awkward all the time. He wants to branch out and have a lot of friends. He wants to be effortlessly relaxed like you.

He's not, but with the music swelling in time with his heart and your own melodious laughter in his ears he could delude himself into thinking so. And foolishly Riddle broke his own moral compass, NRC's rules, Heartslabyul's rules, and even the unspoken rules put in place by his mother. And for one night you thought he was cool and so did he. And for one night he was not boring. For one night he could kiss you silly without worrying about perfecting the technique or the placement of his hands on your hips or what to do about his reputation should anyone find out (not that it mattered to you, but it meant the world to him).