(via Twisted Wonderland Matchups! - Who Would Love You? | Jack Howl)

hello!! i just want to let you know in your recent azul fic there's a word "girlfriend" near the end of the fic! ty!

Oh, no, I’m so sorry. Thank you for letting me know, I’ve changed it now!

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?

The dynamic

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

“Y/n?”

The seemingly empty classroom is briefly illuminated followed by the sharp, loud crack of thunder. The shockwaves cause the floor beneath Jamil’s feet to shudder, and he hears the faint sound of a whimper coming from the farthest corner of the room.

“Y/n,” Jamil repeats before making his way to the small space beside a long row of lockers at the back of the classroom.

There, he found you curled into yourself with your hands pressed firmly against your ears and your eyes tightly shut.

He was only gone for a second to retrieve the cleaning supplies from the janitor’s closet. But he’d underestimated how bad the thunderstorm had been, because a particular boom of thunder caused the lights in the nearly vacant school to shut off without warning.

It’s also just his luck that you have a fear of both the dark and thunderstorms. He’s not sure why he’d suddenly felt guilty for leaving you by yourself, but his feet didn’t hesitate to turn on their heels and run back to the classroom where you awaited.

He stands there, waiting patiently for a few minutes to see if you’d calm down on your own.

It becomes quite apparent that the answer is no.

“I’m coming down,” Jamil sighs before sliding his back down the wall until he’s seated in a similar position as you.

You still haven’t moved an inch, but he can tell that your body is a lot less tense than before. But how can he comfort you?

A sudden thought pops into his head: a scene from a romance anime that Kalim had forced him to watch with him this summer. Would it work?

He decides to give it a shot.

Jamil shrugs his school blazer off and drapes it over your heads. The heavy material turns everything in your line of vision black, and you finally work up the courage to lift your head properly.

You don’t realize how close your faces are until you feel Jamil’s warm breath fanning across your cheeks.

“W—what are you doing?” you manage to squeak out, trying to scoot away despite your back being pressed against the lockers already.

“I’m distracting you,” Jamil answers as if it should have been the most obvious thing. “Is it working?”

“Um… kind of?” you can’t say that the close proximity isn’t making you feel like a cage of butterflies have been released in your stomach.

A few moments of silence pass before another boom of thunder strikes, causing the goosebumps on your arms to rise and you instinctively reach out to grasp Jamil’s arms. You’re surprised that he doesn’t move away immediately.

“I want to try something,” Jamil declares.

“Right now?” you ask in disbelief. “What is it?”

You feel his arms shifting in your grasp before his cold hands are cupping your cheeks, and you hold your breath as you wait for his next move.

Without any hesitation, Jamil leans forward and presses his soft lips against yours.

To say that you’re surprised is an understatement, but you respond to his touch anyways. Your lips move against one another, hesitantly at first, before Jamil makes the first move to deepen it.

You don’t realize just how fast your heart is racing until you finally break apart.

“Um…” you gasp, your fingertips running across your lips. “What was that?”

In that moment, Jamil’s glad that the darkness provided by his blazer is hiding how deep red his ears have turned. He clears his throat before simply answering, “a distraction.”

Hi, it me Cotton Candy.🍭🍬

AAAAAAAA, hello! How has your day been? 🥺

Pairing: Ace x GN!Reader Genre: Fluff

Beep, beep. Beep, beep. Beep, beep.

You turn over in your half-awake state, one eye peeling open with much effort after having been woken up in the midst of a deep sleep. The room is dark, save for the crack of light coming from where your phone now silently lays face down beside your head.

You prop yourself up on a forearm after a moment of contemplation. Maybe it was something important or an emergency, considering how late the caller decided to ring you up.

But upon further inspection, you see that you have a missed call from none other than your best friend, Ace. And not just one or two calls either.

No wonder you woke up. Your phone must have been ringing for at least two minutes straight.

You squint your eyes against the bright light of your phone when another call goes through. Your index finger quickly slides the small switch on the side to silent before your ringtone could blast through the quiet ambiance of your room again.

“Hello? Ace, are you okay?” you press the phone to your ear and ask before your friend could speak.

“Were you asleep?” Ace’s hushed voice asks when he takes notice of how hoarse yours sounds. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Don’t lie. Yes, you did,” you chuckle at his statement with a shake of your head. Actions speak louder than words, especially when over a handful of missed calls means he was definitely trying to get your attention. “But it’s fine, I don’t mind. Are you okay though?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Ace confirms.

There’s a long pause before either of you speaks again.

You readjust your position under the warmth of your thick comforter and lay on your side so your head could hold your phone in place against the pillow.

You could hear Ace’s gentle breathing coming from the other line as if he had fallen asleep. The sound is comforting. Something you’ve grown accustomed to after months of falling asleep on the phone together.

“I—”

“Wh—”

“Oh, sorry—”

“Sorry, go ah—”

You let out short bursts of giggles upon interrupting each other.

“No, I’m sorry. You go first. Are you finally going to tell me why you’re calling at this ungodly hour?” there’s a playful tone to your voice, one that lets Ace know that you’re not actually upset that he woke you up in the middle of the night. It’s always nice to hear from him; especially when he lives halfway across Twisted Wonderland for work now.

“First of all, you’re usually up at this time,” Ace snorts and you can practically see him rolling his eyes. “Second of all, I missed my best friend. We haven’t talked all week.”

“And that’s because you were busy celebrating the holidays with your family, remember?” you roll over in bed, shifting again until you’re sitting up with your back pressed against the pillow.

Then you’re met with silence. Mostly because Ace knows that you’re right and has no rebuttal for the fact.

You take the opportunity to press the speakers button and place your phone on your lap before your gaze trails towards the large window beside you. It’s nearly a full moon tonight, the opened curtains allowing the beautiful orb to cast gentle moonlight into your room.

“You’re not doing anything right now, right?” Ace questions as if he hadn’t just woken you up mere minutes before. “That means you can sleep in later so come meet me outside.”

You snort and shake your head, “yeah, let me just walk about a thousand miles to see you real quick. I’ll see you real soon.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Ace fake laughs into the phone. “I mean it: I’m outside your apartment complex right now.”

“You what?” you immediately sit up straight, your eyes scanning what little of the outside world you could see from your third-level room in search of Ace. “I swear to God if you’re just joking…”

“I’m not. I even brought snacks,” Ace laughs, a genuine one that sounds like bells delightfully ringing in your ears, and you can hear the rustling of plastic bags accompanying it. “So come outside. I’ll wait for you.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you grab your phone and kick the comforter off.

Reblog to have something lgbt happen to you this summer

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.”