“Y/n?”

Roller skating at Skate City. That was your boyfriend’s bright idea when you told him that you’d let him choose where to go for your next date night.

It’s not that you had a problem with how relatively lowkey the activity is. No, it’s more so that the last time you tried doing something like this, both you two and your friends ended the night with mouthfuls of ice.

But still, you couldn’t deny all the fun that was had, so the night was fondly known as The Christmas Ice Skating Disaster amongst your friends.

All this to say that you can only imagine this date night ending with more than a couple of bruises on your shins.

“Come on, y/n!” Trey calls out, one hand stretched out towards you while the other is holding onto the rink barrier. He notices the skeptical look on your face as you stumble towards him and rolls his eyes, “I promise that you’re going to be okay.”

“Hold on, I’m coming,” you huff, your voice barely audible above the loud old-school pop music playing.

Your eyes are fixed on the carpet below you as you focus on trying not to slip on the glow-in-the dark material. You feel a hand grab onto the bend of your elbow and look up in confusion to find Trey standing beside you.

“You were taking too long. I’ll help you,” Trey explains with a teasing tone in his voice.

He sticks his tongue out before moving to stand behind you and pushing you towards the skating rink. You had half the mind to scold him for endangering you, but the words die in your throat when you realize that you were moving without a single stumble.

Well, that’s a pleasant surprise.

“Come on, baby,” Trey repeats, mimicking his earlier actions after he’s stepped inside the rink.

“Should I be concerned that you’re acting really confident for someone who sucks at skating?” you ask half-jokingly but place your hand in your boyfriend’s outstretched one anyways.

“That was ice skating. This is roller skating,” Trey grins as he watches you stumble ungracefully. “Which — no offense, babe — you definitely suck at more than me.”

“Uh… I definitely take offense to th— ah!” you let out a yelp as your feet suddenly slip back, causing your upper body to lurch forward.

You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the fall that never came. Instead, you fell straight into Trey’s waiting arms and your hands instinctively clutch onto his sweater’s sleeve. You open one eye to peek at your boyfriend, who has a relatively proud look about him.

“So… are you planning to stay glued to my side the whole day?” Trey asks with another cheeky grin, “or should I let you flounder around the skating rink on your own?”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, “okay, just because you haven’t fallen over yet doesn’t mean you’re the better skater— okay, wait! I’m sorry!”

Your grip on Trey’s sleeve tightens when he makes a move to pull his arms back. You both know that he would never actually let go of you, but your body reacted out of pure survival instincts. In this case, you wanted to save yourself from an embarrassing public face plant.

“Glued to my side it is!” Trey chuckles as he loosely wraps his arms around your waist from behind. “Don’t worry, baby. I got you.”

Hi, it me Cotton Candy.🍭🍬

AAAAAAAA, hello! How has your day been? 🥺

There’s just something about the Twst bois’ surprised faces. I wanna squish their cheeks so bad. 😭😤

FUN FACT: I found your writings through google and been reading it from there. Haven’t used tumblr since 2017 LOL. So I just made a blog to chat with you.☺️ - Cotton Candy

PS. We need a cotton candy emoji. :[

Really? Oh, my gosh, what did you look up? 😆 I’m honoured, please feel free to message me whenever. I’ll try to get back to you quickly. 🥺🫶🏼

I know, right? I could’ve sworn there was one but maybe I was imagining it. 😵‍💫

Pairing: Epel x GN!Reader Genre: Fluff

In this world, soulmates do exist.

No one knows when they will meet theirs or if they ever will, but chances of the latter is very unlikely.

See, the universe has a funny way of bringing two destined souls together; in this case, soulmates are brought together through music.

As a result, it isn’t strange for one, or two, or even a dozen people to suddenly start singing in the middle of the street. The more fortunate members of society are able to contain this urge, and you’re fortunately one of them.

But balance is a must.

So, while most soulmates will start singing the same song no matter where or how far apart they are, you have to deal with a song playing on repeat in your head for an undisclosed amount of time. It’s similar to how people say they have a catchy song stuck in their head, but you hear your soulmate’s voice singing to you instead.

Luck is truly on your side though, because you think that your soulmate has one of the loveliest voices that you’ve ever heard.

Or do you only think that because it’s your soulmate?

You wonder what they must be like. Definitely an interesting person based only on their music taste — which is completely random. They could be singing a tune that probably should belong in an opera and suddenly change to a song about baking a cake the next.

You never knew what to expect from them, least of all silence.

But that’s exactly what you got today.

If this wasn’t something out of the ordinary, you wouldn’t have been so worried. But you couldn’t help but think of all the things that could be wrong.

It’s for this reason that you’ve dragged your friends out to the nearest tea shop: to worry incessantly about someone you haven’t even met yet.

“No, I’m telling you that they have never not sung, Ace,” you groan while rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands. “What if they tripped on their way to work and cracked multiple teeth, or something?”

Ace looks up at you with utter unamusement on his face as he takes another sip of his bubble tea, “that’s pretty dramatic, y/n. Maybe they’re just busy.”

“I mean, isn’t it nice to have some peace and quiet? They’ll probably go back to singing by tonight,” Jack offers before you could say anything else. “It could be worse.”

“How’s that?” you sigh before occupying yourself by taking small sips of your matcha latte.

“Our friend from college has never heard his soulmate’s voice — well, not since he was little.”

“Are you serious?” you raise an eyebrow, feeling a bit skeptical about this information.

But you weren’t one to talk; you’d always opted to wait until the late hours of the night to sing. A small part of you reasoned that you only did so to not disturb your soulmate throughout the day. But the bigger part of you knows that you’re just afraid to embarrass yourself.

“Yeah, you can ask him yourself,” Jack nods before nudging his chin towards the space behind you.

“What?”

You turn around to see a young man at the cash register paying for his drink. You can only make out the top half of his face due to his face mask, but you can already tell that he’s attractive — with wavy lavender locks that perfectly frames his face and double-lidded eyes that curve slightly at the ends, as if he has a natural wing.

You’re not sure why you can’t take your eyes off of him. You’ve seen plenty of attractive men in your life, yet…

Jack clears his throat at the same time Ace pokes at your forearm, forcing you to divert your attention back to the two.

“What?” you ask again, your eyes shifting between your friends who keep exchanging knowing looks with one-another. “Why do you look like that?”

The pair don’t answer you and instead wave over the handsome stranger that’s caught your attention. He immediately makes his way over to your table and places his hands on the chair right next to yours.

“May I sit here?” he asks, his eyes curving into crescent moons as he smiles — though it’s not visible to anyone.

You look up and accidentally make eye contact with him; and that alone is enough to make a comforting warmth spread from your heart to the rest of your body.

Both of your eyes widen in surprise, though you don’t realize that the stranger is experiencing the same exact warm comfort as you.

But why?

Jack and Ace exchange another set of knowing looks before Ace pats the table loud enough to snap you both out of your trances.

“Oh, um… y—yeah, go ahead,” you manage to stammer out, your hands nervously tucking loose strands of hair behind your ears as you turn to sit upright again.

What is wrong with you all of the sudden?

“Thank you,” the man clears his throat and moves to situate himself onto the empty seat before extending a hand out towards you, “I’m Epel, by the way.”

“O—oh,” you hesitantly reach out to wrap your fingers around Epel’s hand in a handshake, your skin immediately tingles upon contact. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m y/n.”

“‘Y/n’? That’s very pretty,” Epel says as his eyes curve into crescent moons once more.

“Th—thank you,” you bow your head in hopes that the shadows will conceal the blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Epel, you have a pretty name too,” Ace comments in a playful tone as he pats the said man’s cheeks.

You shoot a glare at your friend, mentally cursing him for teasing you at such a time, but he only smiles innocently at you in response.

“Call me ‘pretty’ again and you’ll never see the daylight again,” Epel chuckles. “How are y’all?”

“We’re good. What’s with the mask?” Jack gestures towards Epel’s face, and he assumes that he must mean the face mask.

“I caught a cold — just my luck,” Epel sighs.

“Is Vil going to cut you some slack today then?”

Epel shakes his head, “nah… I just won’t be able to sing as much as I usually do. Which is why I’m saving my voice as much as I can.”

“What if they’re sick?!” you suddenly exclaim, prompting Epel to turn towards you with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“They’re talking about their soulmate again,” Ace whines before planting his face onto Jack’s shoulder.

“Oh? Why, what’s up? Did you finally meet them?”

“No…” you shake your head before giving your friends an apologetic look, “they’ve just stopped singing — and they always sing. So maybe they’re sick!”

“Sounds like me,” Epel says jokingly with a grin, but his laugh is cut short by the alarmed look on your face. “I—I’m kidding. I just meant that I sing all the time too for—well, really because Housewarden Vil asks me to.”

Watching the awkward exchange prompts Ace to hunch over and start coughing, but you can hear his hidden “smooth” in between the sharp sounds. You shoot your friend a glare before placing a hand on top of Epel’s — and it’s just a gesture of reassurance.

At least that’s what you try convincing yourself of.

“So,” you start, hoping to change the conversation’s topic for everyone’s sake, “is there any particular reason why you’re being made to focus on your singing skills?”

“Oh!” you can see the glimmers of happiness in Epel’s eyes as he begins to talk animatedly about his hobby. “It’s ‘cause of my family’s apple farm. Which, hear me out, ‘cause I know you’re prolly thinkin’ ‘how is that even related’? But…”

Then Epel begins to explain how his family business experienced a boom in business after this year’s SDC, and he saw this as motivation to work on strengthening his charms. After all, Harveston isn’t a well-known part of Twisted Wonderland; and if he works hard enough, he could help not only his family, but the other elders in the village as well.

“Then Vil had this great idea that we should start an NRC radio show. I like to call it the Epel Farm but Vil was not a fan of that. And, well— it’s more of a ‘daily podcast’ than it is a radio show. I do a lot of different things depending on my mood; sometimes I’ll give advice to my listeners or just play music — and sing, of course. I surprisingly like it a lot.”

“You seem to be very passionate about your family and apples. It’s wonderful that you’ve got such a strong source of motivation,” you can only offer a sheepish smile as your head is still spinning from the overload of information Epel just spilled onto you. “I haven’t gotten the chance to tune in yet, but your radio show sounds great.”

And the two of you continue your conversation just like that, completely forgetting that you have other friends sitting right across the table. Too enamored with one-another to even notice their amused stares.

Truth be told, Ace and Jack had a sneaking suspicion that they knew who your soulmate was for a while now. Epel’s too.

At first, it seemed like a coincidence. You’d whine about the fact that you couldn’t focus well when your soulmate keeps singing a song about washing the dishes. Then that same night, they would hear Epel singing a similar song in a pre-recording of Epel Farm.

When asked, Epel had told them that he rarely hears his soulmate’s voice unless he stayed up late enough. He’d wake up with swollen eyes the morning after and was surely scolded by Vil, but he always thought that it was worth it.

They connected the distant grey dots when you told them you try not to sing until nightfall in fear of disturbing your soulmate’s day.

The coincidences continued to pile on from there, and Ace finally convinced Epel to meet you for confirmation.

Except he left out the part where you were going to be here today.

But Epel is smart and he catches on very quickly. It also helps that your friends were not very subtle with the way they were gawking at you two as you conversed.

You must be someone special. He could tell from the moment you made eye contact earlier.

Whereas your parents never told you the feeling of meeting your soulmate — not to mention your friends haven’t experienced such things either — Epel was more blessed.

He’s been excited to meet you since the moment his parents recounted the day that they met. The feeling of comfort and warmth, like basking under the hot summer sun or wrapping yourself up in your favorite blanket on a snowy day.

The same exact feeling he had when he first saw you.

But he’s not one to jump to conclusions. He needed solid evidence, and there’s only one way he knows how to collect it. Subtly.

“Do you want to come back to Pomefiore with me then? I’m about to head down, and it’ll give you a chance to finally listen in,” Epel offers, holding his breath as he waits for your answer.

You hum in thought, glancing over at your friends for their confirmation before nodding, “sure, I would love to.”

“Perfect, I’ll go grab my drink and we can go.”

Underneath the face mask, Epel is absolutely beaming in delight but he tries his best not to jump for joy right away. Instead, he counts to ten in his head to calm his nerves before he gets up from his seat, “oh— Ace and Jack, you guys can come too. Just don’t break anything this time.”

“Wh— it was totally Jack’s fault for scaring me!” Ace tries to defend himself but the shorter man is already out of earshot. He sighs, lips jutting out into a pout as he crosses his arms and slumps back down his seat.

“Your soulmate sucks, y/n,” Ace grumbles due to his hurt pride, the weight of his words not registering until he notices the way you stare at him with raised eyebrows.

“Who’s my soulmate?” you snort and lean forward to gently smack Ace’s hand. “Don’t joke around like that!”

“S—sorry,” Ace scratches the back of his head, the toothy smile he offers you filled with awkwardness.

Were you always this naive, or pretending to ignore the fact that he just slipped up?

His eyes shift up to look at something behind you and he breathes a sigh of relief before jumping out of his seat, “Epel! Great! Let’s get going before you’re late!”

“Uh— Okay, okay,” Epel holds his hands up in defeat as he allows Ace to usher him out of the tea shop.

You and Jack follow not too far behind, with you clinging onto your friend’s arm for warmth and protection against the chilly autumn breeze.

Thankfully — and surprisingly — the walk back to the Pomefiore dorm was only about one mile, tops. It was still a half an hour walk, but you can’t complain in the presence of good company. Plus, it probably would be a few days’ walk if you didn’t have a mirror to transport you to anywhere you want to go.

“Here we are,” Epel announces, his voice quieter and a softer tone than it had been at the tea shop. He stops walking right outside a door to a room marked with a medium-sized apple sign. “Please come in.”

Epel hurries to hold the door open for you, and you can’t hold back the giggle that bubbles up your throat as you walk past him.

How adorable, you think to yourself.

You absolutely adored the way that he so enthusiastically talked about his radio show earlier, and you can see now that he truly treats this place like his second home.

True to its name, the interior of the room is decorated with shades of green and various apple drawings randomly placed on the wall. Just like an apple orchard.

The environment is bright and warm, and if Epel was a room this is what you imagine he would look like. Is that strange?

“Okay, follow me. You guys can sit right outside of the broadcasting booth, and we’ll be able to see each other,” Epel gestures for your trio to follow him deeper into the room.

His face mask is pulled down now, exposing the lower half of his face, and you can’t help but to steal glances at him every few seconds. You had the gut feeling that he would be attractive, but nothing could prepare you for how pretty the man truly was.

Lost in thought — well, more like Epel’s face — you don’t notice that your friends have stopped walking and you face plant directly into Jack’s shoulder, causing you to stumble back ungracefully.

“Are you okay?” he looks back in concern.

“Uh, yes,” you affirm, a hand rubbing at your sore forehead.

“Be careful,” Epel comments before reaching out and taking a hold of your hand. He gently pries it off your forehead and leans forward to study the blanket of red on your skin. “It doesn’t look bad, but if it still hurts and you want to ice it, please let me know.”

“Okay, t—thank you,” you whisper.

From the close proximity, you have the opportunity to see his features more clearly — from his piercing light blue orbs to his adorable plump cheeks down to his rosy lips.

You’re not sure why you couldn’t stop staring at him, or why the same warmth as before is spreading through your body again. But the feeling is very much welcomed.

Unbeknownst to you, Epel feels the same way.

The sound of someone clearing their throat pops the momentary bubble you were encased in, causing the two of you to take a step away from one-another.

“Epel. We need to go check the sounds now,” a very familiar man stands off to the side, his face seeming as if he’d showed up someplace he wasn’t supposed to.

“Thank you, Housewarden Vil. I’ll be right there.”

“Alright. And Jack. Ace. Y/n. It’s a pleasure to see you all again,” Vil greets you all politely before he turns on his heels and hurries back inside what you presume is the broadcasting booth.

“Have a seat. You should be able to hear the broadcast through the speaker here,” Epel gestures towards a seemingly misplaced large speaker just outside of the broadcasting booth. When he turns back to you, he flashes a bright smile that has your heart suddenly skipping a beat. “I hope you’ll like it.”

With that, you both part ways. Epel walks to the broadcast booth while you walk over to where your friends have retreated minutes earlier.

“I feel strange,” you confess after situating yourself in a seat facing the glass door to the booth.

Jack and Ace exchange looks for what seems like the hundredth time that day before Jack says, “a good strange? Or did you already catch Epel’s cold?”

“I don’t know, but… I feel so warm and fuzzy. So I guess that’s good? I—” your sentence is cut off by a familiar voice in your head, and you let out a short sound of relief.

Your friends give you looks of confusion mixed with worry, mostly because your mood suddenly changed and they can’t tell if you’ve suddenly lost your mind. But you shake your head and whisper, “my soulmate is singing again!”

Jack eyes flicker briefly towards Epel, who seems to be speaking into a mic, before coming back to you, “what’s he singing?”

“Actually, it’s not a made-up song for chores this time,” you hum along to the lyrics in your head, your brain working to figure out what song is playing before it clicks. “Ah! It’s ‘Piece of My World’.”

Jack nods as he hops off his seat and makes his way to the speaker Epel pointed out earlier. His fingers fumble with the controls before you suddenly hear the same song blasting through them as the one in your head.

“How?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you stare at the speaker. “That’s such a weird coincidence.”

Surely this was just a coincidence, right? But the more you listen, the farther away the voice in your head gets, the voice coming from the speaker replacing it instead.

The same voice that you’ve heard every day for as long as you can remember.

Your soulmate’s voice.

You stand up, hesitantly inching closer to the speaker, where Jack is giving you an apologetic look. How long had he known?

A million thoughts were running through your mind per second, faster than your heart is racing at the moment.

But when you’re a few feet away from the glass door, it suddenly makes sense to you. The way you felt so comfortable around him, how easily attracted you were to him, and why your friends had insisted you meet him all those times before.

Somehow they always knew, but now you know too.

Feeling eyes on him, Epel looks towards the door and makes eye contact with you. His mouth falls open to a small “o” when he sees the look of utter astonishment on your face.

Did you figure it out? Was he right?

Your lips moved, though he couldn’t hear what you were saying through the soundproof walls. That didn’t matter, however, because suddenly a voice greets his mind. One that he hasn’t heard sing to him when the sun is still up in years.

“You’re my soulmate.”

Pairing: Floyd x GN!Reader Genre: Fluff A/N: This is for @seajellyx for the Secret Santa Project held by @twstedsecretsanta. Happy Holidays, I hope you enjoy this small fluffy-fluff gift!

“Y/n.”

At the call of your name, the large gymnasium is filled with the sounds of gasps and mummering. You stare up at the podium with your face permanently set into a look of utter shock, because there’s no way that your name was just called.

Right?

The last thing you remember before spacing out was that the Christmas Royalties were about to be announced.

It’s apparently a tradition here at NRC: a celebration that’s a combination of what is a prom back on Earth and Valentine’s Day, where the popularly voted Christmas Royalties will have the chance to confess to their crush after being crowned — or challenge their rivals to a fight, for the less romantically inclined.

You always thought it was a ridiculous tradition. Especially when the chances of rejection and embarrassing yourself is ever present.

You’d given a thought before as to who you would confess to — though you’d hope you’d never have to. There is always a chance considering you are pretty well-known amongst the student body, courtesy of your friends’ overblot incidences and your magicless status.

And, as if the Sevens are playing a cruel joke on you, the student who had been called up to the podium first had been none other than your very own crush, Floyd Leech.

You’d met Floyd after your string of bad luck had you paired up with him as an Alchemy lab partner for the year.

At first, you thought he would be a difficult person to work with. The idea formed itself out of your preconceived notion that he is the louder and more uncontrollable of the Leech twins, thus he would never get any actual schoolwork done.

You had only witnessed him spending his free time messing with other students — your friends included — outside of class, after all.

But you were pleasantly surprised when Floyd took the initiative to reach out to you first with an offer to help, especially when the homework load got heavier as the year went by. His assistance, of course, was exchanged for a couple tight squeezes — and heavily dependent on his unpredictable mood.

Sometimes, Floyd could also be a bit flirty. He’d given you cheeky winks every now and then, or you would catch him staring at you in the middle of class with an unfamiliar glint in his heterochromic orbs.

Yet you thought nothing of it.

It was predictable of you to end up developing a crush on the man. It was a reality that your friends encouraged you to confess with the hidden hope that Floyd’s squeezes will only be reserved for you from then on.

But you’d also threaten that you’d transfer over to RSA if Floyd ever found out the truth.

But now? Flyod’s answer to “who would you like to call out to the stage?” was your name.

It was then that you began to wonder if all those times he’d been so cheeky in the middle of class was because he actually like-likes you?

“Is y/n here?” Riddle inquires into the mic again.

“That’s you. Haul ass, pal,” your friend Ace whispers as he elbows your side to bring you back to reality.

“Ugh… right,” you groan as you slowly stand up and make your way towards the stage.

Your body jerks in surprise when the overhead spotlight nearly blinds you, the bright light following your path exactly until you’re finally standing right beside Floyd.

“Well, this is quite the surprise,” you finally comment, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised at the taller man.

In typical Floyd fashion, the man reaches out and envelopes you in his arms. The squeeze he gives your body is much more gentle than normal. You manage to steal a glance at the man and return his wide smile with an amused one of your own.

“Shrimpyyyy,” Floyd coos before clearing his throat and speaking more clearly right by your ear, “sorry for doing this in such a public setting, but you wouldn’t pick up on any of the hints I’ve been giving you.”

“There isn’t much of a difference between the way you flirt and the way you treat your friends,” you chuckle, bending backwards slightly to properly look at Floyd’s face. From this close, you can see just how red his ears have gotten — and just how handsome he looks dressed so formally.

“You look marvelous, by the way. Not that you aren’t always,” Floyd compliments you as if he’d read your mind and wanted to beat you to the punch.

The cheesy words cause your cheeks to start burning up and earns more than an earful of aw’s from your briefly forgotten audience.

“Thank you, so do you— ugh,” you let out a short grunt when Floyd pulls you into another tight hug.

If anyone wanted to laugh at how silly you were making yourselves look, they didn’t. But if you weren’t busy trying not to suffocate in his arms, you’d have noticed how Floyd had thrown your audience a threatening look before they could even inhale.

“Thanks, Shrimpy,” Floyd finally takes a step back and squeezes your cheeks between his hands, tilting your head back so you’d meet his eyes. “How about a dance? I’m kind of tired of these people staring at us.”

Your lips curve up into a grateful smile as you nod, “sure.”

“I’m guessing you already know why you’re standing up here with me, but I do like you, Shrimpy. As more than a friend. I’d love to take you out on a date sometime soon.”

It’s as if those words unlocked a cage filled to the brim with butterflies. They flutter around in your stomach, leaving behind beautiful hues of reds, oranges, and yellows; warm colors that remind you of the beacon of sunshine that is Floyd Leech. You find it ironic, considering he’s from the sea.

You can’t hold back the grin that breaks into your face as you nod your head yes.

“Well, I’m glad you said something first because I like you too. Idiot,” you stubbornly admit with a playful roll of your eyes.

“That’s so cute! Congratulations!” Cater, who’d been standing and watching silently on the sidelines, suddenly yells.

With his lead, the rest of the student body begins to clap and the large gymnasium is filled with the sounds of cheers. Floyd tugs on your hand gently, and you allow him to guide you down the stage and straight to the dance floor. Large clusters of students come along, with most of them throwing confetti over your heads.

You’ve never seen them so lively outside of a good Spelldrive Tournament.

It takes a few minutes for the high energy to settle down, but finally everyone begins to break off into their respective pairs or small groups of friends.

Floyd wraps his arms around your waist, taking the opportunity provided by the slow melody playing to pull you close to him.

“Hi, Shrimpy,” Floyd beams, any signs and feelings of shyness already washed away.

“Hey,” you giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck and begin to sway together. “You sure know how to make a scene, huh?”

“I’m sorry, but you didn’t give me much of a choice. I thought I was being pretty obvious about it,” Floyd huffs, his lower lip jutting out into a pout.

“Well, I’m sorry too. For not noticing sooner,” you offer the man an apologetic smile.

Floyd hums for a moment before the mischievous glint is back in his eyes, “you can make it up to me somehow.”

“Didn’t I already agree to a date, sir?”

“But that’s different!” Floyd practically whines, and you’re surprised he’s not stomping his feet to match his tone.

You find him adorable, albeit a bit childish.

“I think I could get used to you being so cute,” you speak your thoughts aloud without meaning to. One of your hands moves to cover your mouth as you meet Floyd’s widened eyes. “I—I mean… what do you want?”

“How about…” Floyd pauses before his eyes travel up above your heads. You follow his gaze up to find multiple mistletoes dangling from the ceiling, “but only if you’re comfortable with it.”

Wordlessly, you place your arm back around Floyd’s neck and gently pull him closer to you. Your faces are mere centimeters apart, just a breath away from your lips touching.

“You know it’s bad luck to not kiss under a mistletoe, right? We shouldn’t risk it.”

“No, we shouldn’t,” Floyd mutters before he makes the first move to close the distance between you two.

Your eyes flutter shut right as your lips meet in a chaste and brief kiss. You couldn’t even hear the sound of your friends cheering from the top of their lungs over how hard your heart was beating.

“Floyd, don’t forget about us forever!” one of the Octavinelle residents in the crowd yells dramatically once the two of you finally pull apart.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave. I’m sorry,” Floyd rolls his eyes at his friend’s antics, but doesn’t let go of your hands despite his apology.

“I’ll see you tomorrow anyways, don’t look so sad to go!”

“You’re right, but I’ll still kick their ass for interrupting our moment.”

You laugh and nod slowly, “I can get behind that.”

“That’s my Shrimpy,” Floyd grins before planting a quick kiss onto your cheek. He finally lets go of your hands and takes a few steps backwards towards his waiting friends, “maybe I’ll come find you again for another dance?”

“I’d love that. I’ll be waiting.”

hello um I don’t know if this is a thing but, um🥺 are requests a thing on this fandom?

Hi! I believe so; a lot of the Twst writers I follow accept requests as well! 😊

reblog this if your blog is a safe space on april fools and won’t have any jumpers, screamers, or anything scary or anxiety inducing

THE GANG'S ALL HERE

Pairing: Gladiator!Lilia x GN!Reader Genre: A dash of angst, fluff Warning(s): Brief mentions of blood and injury, implied character death, natural disaster A/N: I tried to do research to make this as historically accurate as possible, but please forgive any mistakes there. T_T

The first time you and Lilia met was shortly before the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 A.D..

At the time, Lilia was a Vicecomes who willingly signed up to fight in the gladiator games, much to the horror of his friends and family. He was considered a major celebrity of those days, finding himself triumphant against even the most beloved gladiators despite his petite and slender stature.

Meanwhile you worked as a doctor providing the best medical care possible to the greatly valued gladiators. Being a doctor was merely viewed as being a trade at the time, so you didn’t earn nearly as much respect as Lilia did.

Still, you worked hard every day and did an objectively good job despite receiving no proper training.

Eventually you were trusted enough to take care of the more “important” gladiators, and that was when you met Lilia.

“Look at this,” you say quietly to yourself, clicking your tongue in displeasure as you press a cloth soaked in vinegar to a deep wound on Lilia’s arm.

The gladiator winces at the painful stinging sensation that spread throughout his limb, gritting his teeth so he doesn’t cry out.

“I’m sorry,” you offer the gladiator an apologetic smile and remove the now blood-stained cloth to dip it into a bowl of vinegar by your side. “If it’s any consolation, you fought well today.”

“Thank y— ah,” Lilia hisses when you press the cloth to his wound again, though the pain has lessened the second time around. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and tilting his head back to calm himself down before speaking. “Thank you. You were watching the fight?”

“Well, who wasn’t watching it? It was an important one to attend. ”

“Tell me: was everyone expecting me to go easy on Emperor Titus because he’s old?” the gladiator asks, rolling his eyes partly in annoyance of the punishment to come due to his victory.

“Well… he just took over from his father, so you could have gone a little easier on him. You know, let him win a few popularity points with the crowd?”

Lilia shoots you a look of disbelief as if to ask “are you kidding me?” and you merely shrug in response.

He watches as you busy yourself by dumping the dirtied vinegar outside his barracks. It’s uncommon for him to have a doctor who doesn’t stare at him in awe as they treat him, but even less so one who seems indifferent to his presence.

“I just have to dress your wounds now, then I’ll be on my way,” you reach into your doctor’s bag for a roll of wool bandages before making your way back to Lilia.

He glances up at you through long lashes as you position his arm out and begin to wrap his wound tightly.

“You’re not one for small talk, are you?” Lilia raises a questioning eyebrow, causing your hands to stop their movements as you look down at him with a similar expression.

“I’m busy. You’d be surprised how many gladiators I have to tend to in a day.”

“Oh, now that’s no fun,” Lilia tsks and pulls his arms away from your grasp, causing you to huff in protest. “I’ll let you re-bandage my arm if you’ll stay and chat with me for a while.”

You stay silent for a moment while your eyes flicker over Lilia’s handsome face. You were initially just trying to get a read of what his intentions are — after all, gladiators are regarded as sex symbols by many people. Maybe he thought you regarded him the same way.

But his ruby-like orbs are surprisingly clear and bright. They hold a certain glint of innocence you don’t see very often in gladiators, if at all.

You sigh and cross your arms defiantly, “fine, I suppose I could spare you a few more minutes of my time. Now give me that arm back.”

“Great. Let’s start off with your name first,” Lilia smiles brightly, flashing his sharp canines when you shoot him a death glare, his body unmoving as he waits for your response.

“Y/n. My name is y/n,” you roll your eyes and hold a hand out, palm up.

“That’s a pretty cute name,” the gladiator leans back against the edge of a table and places his arm on top of your waiting hand. “I’m Lilia. Lilia Vanrouge.”

“I know who you are,” you mumble, hands busy unwrapping the bandage that’s slid down Lilia’s arm.

“But you didn’t know me personally before — now you do. So that means we’re friends now.”

You let out a short giggle and shake your head in amusement, “Lilia, you are the strangest gladiator I’ve ever met. You know most of them aren’t all that great at small talk either?”

“Well,” Lilia sighs dramatically as he gestures to his slender and toned body with his free hand, “I think it’s safe to say that I’m not like most of them.”

And unlike most gladiators, Lilia doesn’t spend every possible hour training in combat and preparing himself for future fights.

Instead, he exchanges his gladiator attire for a much more comfortable knee-length tunic before heading into the beautifully paved streets of the Pompeii Forum. His friend, Silver, trails closely behind him just in case the shorter male decides to cause more mischief than is necessary (which is often the case).

Townspeople of the lower-class could recognize Lilia almost immediately when he walked by them. His gladiator status aside, the man is incredibly attractive and youthful, and the pops of pink locks flowing with every breeze is sure to catch anyone’s eye.

Even tourists would stop mid-walk to gape at him.

He pays them no attention and continues walking, with his main destination being the Macellum where it was always his safest bet to find you.

From your brief conversation days earlier, he learned that your family owns a small shop inside the rectangular space. It’s where you spend most of your free time when the demand for doctors isn’t very high.

In the center of the plaza, underneath the shade of a round roof, Lilia finds you hard at work scaling fish.

He stands off to the side, patiently waiting for you to finish your task before he carefully approaches you, “excuse me. Y/n?”

“Yes?” you respond with a sweet voice, turning around to face the man before your smile is replaced with a look of surprise. “Oh— Lilia. H—hello.”

“You don’t look too happy to see me,” Lilia pouts, his puppy dog eyes gazing into yours.

“Don’t take that too personally. Smelling fish all day could make anyone cranky,” you sigh, running your forearm across your forehead to wipe at the sweat there. “How can I help you?”

“You can help me by sparing some of your time,” Lilia grins cheekily, his eyes trailing down to the piles of fish scales lying scattered around your feet. “And in exchange, I can help you with that.”

“Oh, no, thank you. I will not be responsible for Pompeii’s favorite gladiator losing a thumb.”

“I can scale a fish, thank you very much,” Lilia gasps in mock offense. He holds a hand out and gives you a pointed look, “trust me.”

“I’m not sure if I trust you that much yet. But you can stand here and watch,” you gently bump your elbow against the gladiator’s abdomen, causing him to take a step back.

“That’s a good call,” Silver breaks his silence to quietly mutter, though the shorter man beside him still hears it and shoots him an offended glare.

Usually, Lilia is a very stubborn man. He’d have annoyed anyone else to no end until they finally handed him the knife and allowed him to work — but he has an unexpected soft spot for you.

He complies with your wishes without complaint, standing quietly to the side and watching as you expertly scale fish after fish.

As focused as he is on you, Lilia can’t help but notice the man standing next to you that continuously shoots him curious looks. There isn’t an ounce of anger or jealousy radiating from him, so surely he wasn’t your lover; and he appeared much too young to be your father. Could he be your older brother, perhaps?

Lilia doesn’t have to wonder far longer before you notice what the man is doing and dare to flick his forehead, “Deuce, could you please stop staring?”

“But that’s Lilia. You know, the really famous Lilia,” Deuce whispers, though it was a poor attempt as the mentioned man could still hear him anyways.

“Yeah, that’s Lilia,” you laugh at the perplexed look on Deuce’s face. “The really famous gladiator who could definitely beat you in a fight. I think I heard of him from somewhere before.”

“Haha, very funny. What is he doing here—and why is he staring at you like that?”

“Beats me. Maybe I’m just far too charming and he’s here to profess his undying love for me,” you joke, suppressing another laugh at the horrified look on Deuce’s face.

“This is hardly the proper setting for a love confession.”

“Deuce, I was just joking. Stop making that face, you’re scaring all the customers away.”

“Then it’s a good thing that I’m here to attract more of them, right?” Lilia interjects, suddenly appearing between you and Deuce and causing the both of you to jolt in surprise. He smiles sweetly and offers the other man his hand, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Lilia, your future brother-in-law.”

You can only let out a short laugh while Deuce looks between you and the gladiator’s hand before deciding to shake it, “h-hi, I’m Deuce. Uh… I’m not y/n’s brother…”

“Oh, no? My apologies then,” Lilia grins, the expression on his face anything far from apologetic. He gestures to the forgotten man standing next to him, who had impressively managed to fall asleep standing straight up, “this here is my sleepy s—friend, Silver.”

“Is he actually asleep right now?” you question, gently poking at the man’s arm to get a response. “That’s pretty impressive; Sevens know I probably would fall over once my eyes close.”

“If you fall, I’ll be there to catch you, of course,” as if to demonstrate his words, Lilia places his hand at the small of your back and gives you a not-so-subtle wink. “Both literally and figuratively.”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

❥

“Lilia? You didn’t tell me that you had a fight today,” you rush over to the gladiator’s side when you unexpectedly spot him waiting outside the entrance to your home.

“I’m sorry. I was so sure that I did,” he smiles at you fondly while you busy yourself by examining his body for any more wounds besides the cut to his side.

“You said that the last time too. Liar,” you glare playfully at the man. “Come inside, I’ll take care of you.”

The gladiator follows you into your home, walking past the atrium and towards the garden where he’s had you tending to his wounds countless of times before.

He much prefers the intimacy your home provides over you having to come to the gladiator barracks where other gladiators could openly ogle you. Lilia has never told you that, but he likes to think that you know exactly what’s on his mind.

Once you’re situated at the center of the garden, Lilia lays his head on your lap, facing away from you to expose the cut on his side.

“You know,” you began, wringing out a wet cloth before beginning to clean off the dried blood on Lilia’s skin. “It’s really bad for you to be walking around with an open wound.”

“Well, it’s really bad for me to have you walking around the barracks. So you’ll just have to deal with this.”

“You do realize that you’re not the only gladiator that gets injured, right?” you raise an eyebrow when Lilia shoots you an unamused look. “I’m a doctor. I have to take care of them.”

Lilia sighs and presses his cheek further into the cloth of your tunic, “yeah, I know that. It doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Hm… is that… jealousy I sense?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you’re cute. But you don’t have to be jealous, Lilia,” you laugh and run your fingers through the gladiator’s black and pink locks. “Now could you please sit up? I need to wrap you up.”

It takes a few minutes longer than usual, but you finally finish wrapping Lilia’s abdomen with several layers of wool bandages. It would have been done sooner had the gladiator listened to your instructions to hold the end in place.

Perhaps that is a result of him becoming more comfortable around you, and you him.

Had it been when you first met, Lilia knows you wouldn’t hold back in sternly scolding him for not listening to you. Not that he would have listened to you anyways after that.

But now, whenever he teases you, you merely laugh and spare him playful glares. So how could he give in so easily when he enjoyed seeing your joy-filled face?

“You like me, don’t you?” Lilia asks, his lips spreading into a cheeky grin when you look at him like a deer in the headlights. “That’s why you told me I don’t have to be jealous.”

“Oh, your ego is larger than the Great Seven,” you roll your eyes at his question. “But fine. Yes, I said that because I have no interest in looking at other gladiators besides you.”

Lilia’s smile grows wider at your words. He reaches out to cup your cheeks and gently pulls you closer until your faces are nearly touching, “you know… I’ve grown quite fond of you, y/n. How would you feel about marrying me?”

“Oh? I wasn’t even aware that you were courting me this entire time,” you tease and earn your cheeks a firm squeeze.

“Don’t be such a tease, I’m being serious! If you will accept me, I will go talk to your family right away. But I won’t go to them first because yours is the only opinion I value,” Lilia speaks earnestly as he looks into your eyes. “Y/n, I’ll promise to protect you from now on. I will care for you and love you for as long as my heart continues to beat — for as long as you’ll allow me to. If you’ll allow me to.”

You’re rendered speechless by how suddenly the mood shifts to a serious one. Lilia shows no signs of his words being a joke, only his eyes moving to search your heated face for an answer.

“Is your silence a no?” Lilia asks hesitantly, his grip on you loosening the tiniest bit. “You can say no. I’m a tough man and I can take it.”

“What? N—no. I mean— not ‘no’ to your question. I mean no to me saying no,” you try to shake your head, but Lilia’s hands keep you in place. “So… yes.”

The gladiator chuckles in amusement, for he’s never seen you so flustered before, “alright.”

“You know, I—I didn’t expect for you to be this romantic,” you narrow your eyes suspiciously.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting to profess my undying love today but here we are.”

“So you’d like to take it back?”

“Not at all.”

“Yeah, we’ll see if you’re going to say the same thing once my father kicks your ass,” you roll your eyes.

But, unlike what you expected, your father did not kick the gladiator’s ass.

There wasn’t even a passive aggressive comment made or voices raised when Lilia finally approached him as the pater familias for your hand in marriage.

Even if he had, it would be difficult for your father to refuse a proposal from such a beloved gladiator — if you’d planned to refuse him at all. It’s not as if he was of bad character either, and that’s been proven when your father was informed that Lilia came to you before coming to him.

“I won’t oppose it if that’s what you want,” your father sighs, his arms crossed and eyes burning holes into Lilia’s face. “But if you don’t take good care of y/n, I’ll kill you myself.”

“Oh, stop it. That won’t be a problem, father,” you try to reassure the man and move to embrace him tightly.

“I’m just making sure that he knows,” your father pats your back and offers you a soft smile when you release him from your hold.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of them, or else I’m not a man at all.”

That same night, you left your family home in exchange for Lilia’s home — which you thankfully discover is not the gladiator barracks.

You’d decided to be married by usus, a plebeian marriage that is recognized by a long cohabitation period of one year.

Though it is not as favorable as a marriage that begins ceremoniously in the eyes of most, you couldn’t be more content by it. You were never a big fan of ceremonies anyways.

❥

You moved into Lilia’s home approximately a week before the peak of Mount Vesuvius exploded.

Although a week together isn’t a long time by most people’s measure, it was a week that was filled with only happiness and love.

It was the week that you discovered that you were a better swimmer than Lilia and learned that he was a sore loser. That same day, you also learned that Lilia’s bruised ego could easily be healed by peppered kisses along his face.

It was the week that you planned a small dinner party, and Lilia had invited his friends to come meet you when you only expected Deuce and Silver to show up.

You’ve never met a more energetic and loud group of friends; though the volume was mainly contributed by a certain green-head named Sebek who you learn constantly speaks in an almost-yell way.

It was the week that Lilia fought in his final fight which began with him publicly declaring his love for you and ended with him claiming a victory. Your face had heated up profusely when he yelled out your name and it echoed throughout the Colosseum Arena.

Then the next day, Mount Vesuvius erupts.

“Oh, here comes another tremor,” you mutter to yourself, bracing your body in a doorway as the ground shakes beneath your feet.

It takes a long moment for the tremor to finally settle down and you decide it was safe enough to move. You walk over to the garden, where Lilia and his friends are nonchalantly throwing grapes at one-another.

“Are none of you concerned about how frequently the ground has been shaking?” you ask with a small frown.

You take a seat on the floor next to Lilia before the gladiator wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in closer.

“They’re normal, darling. Why are you so worried?” Lilia looks at you with a kind smile and presses a kiss to your temple.

“I’m only worried because of the explosions we heard earlier. I don’t have a good feeling about it.”

“Maybe someone’s home collapsed because of the earthquakes,” Silver offers up an alternative, smiling gently to convey his understanding of your concerns.

“Maybe. You’re probably right.”

It’s a reasonable explanation — one that you try to talk yourself into believing because earthquakes are nothing short of normal in Pompeii.

But while Lilia and his friends occupy themselves with small talk and board games, you keep your eyes to the sky. You notice something that is most definitely not normal in Pompeii, not even for the cloudiest day.

As if someone flipped a light switch, Pompeii is suddenly covered in utter darkness.

A light shower of volcanic ash begins to fall into the garden, and it quickly coats the floor with a thin layer of it.

The only positive note to the situation is that Lilia thinks quickly on his feet, even during stressful situations. He could sense that everyone in the room was starting to get restless and worried; he himself knows that there is something seriously wrong happening here.

“We have to leave— right now,” Lilia announces, causing everyone to quickly stumble to their feet as they’re told to.

“But where are we going?” you ask as you grasp Lilia’s hand in fear of losing sight of him.

He gives your hand a soft squeeze before pulling you towards the entrance to your shared home, “the coastline. If we have to evacuate, that’ll be our safest bet.”

“Evacuate?” you repeat the word to yourself. “Wait— Lilia, I have to find Deuce! I can’t leave him behind when he’s all by himself.”

“I’ll find him,” Lilia states firmly, holding his free hand up to stop you from protesting. “I promise I’ll find him and we’ll meet you at the coastline. But you have to promise me that you’ll follow my friends there first.”

If you weren’t so shaken up with feelings of anxiety and fear, you would have insisted on following Lilia. But you couldn’t think clearly anymore, you weren’t sure why the world seems like it’s suddenly crumbling all around you.

“You—you promise? You have to come back safely. Both you and Deuce.”

“I promise,” Lilia whispers as he cups your cheeks.

He pulls you into him and crashes your lips together into a passionate kiss that relays all the feelings of love and dread in his heart. You could feel his hands trembling against your skin and you wish you knew how to comfort him in that moment.

When Lilia finally breaks the kiss, he leaves you feeling breathless and unable to speak.

It was better that he didn’t hear you call out to him. If you did, he’d find it even harder to turn his back on you to fulfill his promise.

“Go. I’ll meet you guys there,” Lilia instructs his friends firmly before turning and running towards the opposite direction of the shoreline.

Even as Silver kindly urges you to follow them, you couldn’t take your eyes off Lilia’s retreating silhouette.

Who would have thought that, that would be your last memory of him?