So Do You Accept Requests?🥺

(via Twisted Wonderland Matchups! - Who would love you? | Jack Howl)

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?

I hope every writer who sees this writes LOADS the next few months. Like freetime opens up, no writers block, the ability to focus, etc etc you're able to write loads & make lots of progress <3

Knew Deuces house looked familiar

Pairing: Jamil x GN!Reader Genre: Fantasy, Fluff A/N: This fic is set in modern-day Japan where the NRC boys are magicless and you are the magical being. :^) I'm also today years-old when I realized I really put Ace as a side character for all of my fics.

Growing up, Jamil used to wish upon a star.

That star was always the brightest one in the night sky, yet it never seemed to stay up there for very long. But Jamil never minded that because to him, it was like that star disappeared to work on his wishes every time.

After some time, as Jamil grew older and became more preoccupied with the challenges life provided him, he stopped making wishes.

Long forgotten was the brightest star in the sky — though it continued to sparkle, watching over Jamil every night as if it was a sort of guardian angel.

He didn’t even notice that the star never left the sky anymore after he’d stopped making wishes.

That is, until one day, Jamil finally remembered the star.

It’s just past sunset on a Thursday evening when Jamil’s friend Ace comes strutting into his shared dorm room. He’s twirling a set of keys in his index finger while the other hand is shoved inside the pocket of his denim pants.

“Hey,” Ace greets as he leans against the wall next to Jamil’s desk. “Are you busy tonight?”

Jamil hums in response without taking his eyes off his laptop. He remains silent while his fingers are busy rapidly typing the last sentences to his history paper.

“Okay,” Jamil breathes out as he finally shuts off his laptop with a sharp click. He briefly rubs circles on his temple before glancing over at Ace. “What were you saying?”

“Are you free tonight? Deuce wants us to accompany him tonight for a project for his planet-something class,” Ace waves his hand dismissively in the air, the keys in his hand jingling along with the motion.

“We’re architecture majors. Why would he ask us for help?” Jamil asks as his face twists into a mixture of confusion and disgust.

“No, not help— unless he really wants to fail his class. He has to go look at some constellations or something, and he doesn’t want to do it alone. So can you come or not?”

Jamil chews on his lower lip as he thinks. He’d just finished the last assignment that’s due this week and he’s got no other plans for the weekend besides to catch up on sleep.

“Fine, I’m in,” Jamil rolls his eyes before getting up and trailing behind a much-too-giddy Ace.

He follows the male out of the dormitory to where his car is parked. In the backseat is seated a napping Deuce whose head is resting on Lilia’s shoulder. Meanwhile, Lilia is busy playing a game on his phone, and Jamil has to wonder how Deuce’s able to sleep when Lilia’s arms are shaking at 50 kilometers per hour.

“Sevens, Lilia. Could you be any more aggressive?” Ace asks once he’s situated in the driver’s seat.

“Sorry,” Lilia grins without a hint of guilt on his face. “Hey, Jamil.”

“Hey,” Jamil nods towards the older male after securing his seatbelt across his chest. “So… where are we going, exactly?”

“Shizuoka prefecture. It’s going to be quite the drive, so feel free to take a nap if you need it. I’m loaded on Red Bull too,” Ace enters the coordinates into his GPS before propping his phone up on a car phone mount.

Accompanying the monotone voice of the GPS is a playlist filled with piano covers of Studio Ghibli movies’ soundtracks.

It doesn’t take long for the gentle melodies to lull Jamil to sleep. His head gently and rhythmically taps against the cold surface of the car window as Ace cruises past the few hours’ drive to Gekko Observatory.

It feels like only a handful of minutes have passed by when Jamil is shaken awake by Ace. He groans as he stretches his arms out from his sides, his eyes blinking rapidly until his vision finally adjusts to the dark surroundings.

“We’re here?” Jamil asks, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

“Yes, we’re here. You wouldn’t wake up earlier, so I gave you an extra ten minutes,” Ace steps back and closes the car door once Jamil finally stumbles out of his seat. “Come on. Let’s go before I forget where Deuce dragged us off to.”

Jamil follows Ace as he makes his way past the main observatory buildings. They walk away from the well lit areas towards a much darker space, somewhere that allows them to see the stars in the night sky that much better.

They slowly approach a relatively large red tent set up in the middle of a grassy field. Beside it lay a still-gaming Lilia and Deuce setting up his telescope.

“Is this allowed?” Jamil asks as he plops down onto the grass next to Lilia.

“Yeah! As long as we don’t disturb the youth camp, I’m sure there’s no problem,” Deuce briefly nudges his head to the left before turning his attention back to his telescope.

Everyone sits in silence for a few minutes. For the small group of four, the silence is uncommon but it isn’t uncomfortable.

It gives them the chance to take in the fresh air and peaceful atmosphere that’s a stark contrast to life at university.

Jamil could hear crickets chirping, and it’s accompanied by the distant sound of children’s yells and laughter. The mental image of their carefree spirit brings a smile to his face without him even realizing it.

“So… what is it that you’re looking for, Deuce?” Lilia’s question cuts through the quietness first.

“Stars, Lilia. I’m looking for stars,” Deuce chuckles as he peers through the eyepiece of the telescope.

Jamil lays down onto the grass, his ears completely blocking out Lilia’s onslaught of questions for Deuce and his eyes trained on the dark night sky.

And there it was: a familiar bright twinkle in the sky.

Out of all the stars that he could see — and yes, there were many — that one shines the brightest of them all.

Then Jamil remembers that particular habit he had of wishing upon a star when he was younger. It’s been such a long time that he’d almost forgotten all about it.

But he feels certain that that star is the same star from his childhood.

A small smile plays on Jamil’s lips as he thinks back to all the wishes he’s made in the past. Most of them were silly, he was only a child after all.

His very first wish was for a plate of sushi in the middle of the night when he was only 7 years-old. It was on a night when he couldn’t fall asleep and decided to find his father who was still working in his home office.

“Dad?” Jamil whispers as he carefully opens the door and peeks into the dimly lit room.

Jamil’s father glances up from the pile of paperwork he’d been sorting through and smiles softly when he sees Jamil standing awkwardly at the entrance of his office, “hey, how long have you been standing there for? Come in, son.”

“I’m sorry… I couldn’t sleep,” Jamil scratches at the nape of his neck, a nervous habit he’d picked up on recently.

“That’s alright, I was just about done here anyways,” his father shakes his head and closes a thick manila folder shut. “How about we go out back? Maybe it’ll help you clear your head.”

“‘Clear my head’?” Jamil echoes, the curiosity clearly etched onto his face.

“Yes. Sometimes when I can’t sleep, it’s because I’m thinking too much about something. So we have to do something to help fix that,” Jamil’s father gets up from his seat and holds a hand out towards Jamil.

“Okay, what are we doing?” Jamil places his hand in his father’s much larger one and follows the man out of his home office.

They walk towards the back of the house, towards the French doors that open up to a generously spacious backyard.

Jamil and his father take a seat on one of the benches there, and for a moment, no one says anything.

But, unlike how he is today, 7 year-old Jamil cannot sit still — at least, not in silence — for very long. Not even when there’s an ensemble of crickets surrounding him.

“Dad?” Jamil pokes at his father’s shoulder, “what are we doing out here?”

“Well…” his father sighs before gazing up at the night sky. Jamil’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he followed his father’s gaze. “We’re stargazing.”

“Why?” the question comes out sounding a bit meaner than Jamil intended it to. He shakes his head quickly, as if to dismiss the question. “I—I’m sorry, I mean…”

His father chuckles before placing a hand on Jamil’s shoulder, “it’s okay, I understand what you meant. Have you heard about making wishes on stars?”

“Like that one song? From Cinderella?” he tries to say it rather nonchalantly, but due to his younger sister’s recent obsession with Disney princesses and their movies, Jamil begrudgingly has the song lyrics memorized at this point.

“Just like that,” his father chuckles again, his eyes sparkling in amusement as if he could read Jamil’s thoughts. “Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I’ll just sit out here and look at the stars. It’s very relaxing to me. And sometimes, maybe on the days when I feel too stressed out about something, I’ll make a wish on one.”

“Why are you stressed out, dad?” Jamil inquires with a prominent frown to his face.

“Because… of adult things that you don’t have to worry about for now.”

“Oh… but can I still make a wish anyways?”

“Of course, you can. Just pick a star and think about your wish. You can’t say it out loud or it won’t come true,” his father ruffles his hair and gives him a kind smile before returning his attention back to the sky.

Jamil also looks up at the sky where a bright star immediately catches his attention. Perhaps it was because he didn’t take the time to look elsewhere, but he could have sworn that one was the brightest of them all.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted to wish for. Heck, he wasn’t even sure he believed in wishing on a star.

But there’s a first for everything, right?

So, with his dark orbs fixed on that bright star and his stomach inaudibly grumbling, Jamil wishes for the first thing that comes to mind: sushi.

He didn’t say it out loud and there weren't any special occasions coming up that would warrant it — but when Jamil woke up the next morning, he found a wide assortment of sushi rolls laid out on the kitchen table.

He thought that there was no way it could have been a coincidence, that the star must have heard him and granted him his wish. That moment made him a believer, and he began to make wishes more frequently.

“Deuce, what’s the name of that star? That really bright one,” Jamil asks without thinking, the question interrupting the conversation his friends had been having.

“Which one?” Deuce looks towards the sky, trying to pinpoint exactly where Jamil’s index finger was gesturing towards. “I think you may be looking at Arcturus. It’s the brightest star in the Boötes constellation.”

“So that’s its name,” Jamil mumbles to himself.

“What was that?” Deuce asks with his head tilted slightly.

“No, it’s nothing. Thank you,” Jamil shakes his head dismissively.

His silence after that is enough of a signal to his friends that he was done with the brief conversation. If he tries to explain his attachment to the star, would his friends think that he was being silly?

He thinks even Deuce, the one who is absolutely in love with them, would think that it was weird.

So, Jamil keeps the star as a secret to himself.

Perhaps he isn’t afraid of his friends thinking of him as foolish. No, perhaps it is merely a part of his selfishness that if the star could truly grant wishes, he wanted to keep that ability all to himself.

That brings him to a wish that suddenly blossoms inside his heart. He’s not sure when the seed was planted there, but a sudden thought occurs to him.

If the star could really hear me now, I wish I could meet them and say ‘thank you’ to them.

Jamil has to fight the sudden urge to slap himself because of how silly he finds the thought. Where did it even come from?

The lack of sleep and feelings of nostalgia must be causing him to think irrationally.

He finally sits up and scoots himself closer to the small circle his friends have formed around Deuce’s telescope.

“Do you want to take a look?” Deuce asks when he notices the thoughtful look on Jamil’s face. His body is slightly turned towards him as he nudges his telescope’s eyepiece aside. “At the stars, I mean.”

“Can I?”

“Sure. If it was Lilia, I’d think twice.”

“Hey! I’m not the one that spilled spaghetti on Ace’s laptop!” Lilia protests loudly which causes the other three men to shush him before they receive a complaint. He grimaces before lowering his voice, “sorry, sorry.”

“I only spilled it because someone decided it was the perfect time to body slam me in the cafeteria,” Jamil jokingly bites back before getting up and making his way towards Deuce.

“Arcturus, right? I adjusted the telescope so if you look, you can see it even more closely,” Deuce takes a seat on a short bench besides the telescope, watching as Jamil closes one eye and peers through the eyepiece with the other.

“Whoa,” Jamil says in awe under his breath once his eyes have adjusted to the new way of seeing the night sky, “it’s even prettier through a telescope. I can see why you enjoy this so much.”

“It’s never too late to change your major if you want to join the dark side,” Deuce chuckles as his head tilts back to look at the sky as well.

“In your dreams,” Jamil mumbles with a grin on his face when he finally leans away from the telescope. “Plus, Ace would literally bury me ten feet under if I left him in the program by himself.”

“I heard that,” Ace calls out before chucking a handful of grass towards Jamil’s head that falls down almost as quickly as it was sent up.

Deuce laughs again and sends Ace an apologetic look, “don’t worry, your best friend is safe and sound in the architecture department with you.”

Ace immediately makes a gagging sound at the mention of “best friend” before turning his attention back to the game he and Lilia were busy playing.

“Well, I’m just about done here. Maybe another hour and we can start heading back,” Deuce announces. “And… thanks for coming out here with me tonight, guys.”

The news is met with an unanimous “okay” from the rest of the group. Jamil moves away from the telescope so Deuce could take his place and continue whatever project he’d been working on prior.

“Huh, that’s weird. Arcturus is gone,” Deuce says aloud, mostly to himself, but the words capture Jamil’s attention.

Jamil’s gaze trails up to where he’d been captivated by the bright star mere moments ago, only to find that it was truly gone.

Just like before. How strange…

❥

The following Monday, there’s someone Jamil has never seen before sitting at the seat next to his usual one in one of his classes. He makes eye contact with them almost immediately after walking into the room and thinks they definitely must be a new student.

There’s no way I’d forget such an attractive face like that.

Someone behind Jamil clears their throat, signaling for him to move, because he’s blocking the flow of traffic by standing right in the middle of the doorway.

“Oh, sorry,” Jamil mumbles and bows his head apologetically.

He makes his way towards his seat with his eyes glued to his shoes, all of his usual confidence slowly leaking out. He’s not sure why the unknown person beside him is making him feel so nervous, and he’s not quite sure how to deal with it.

Lucky for Jamil, he doesn’t have to make the first move today.

“Um… excuse me?”

Jamil feels a poke on his upper arm. It makes him look up and make eye contact with you once again.

“Yes?” Jamil answers, his voice barely above a whisper.

You laugh lightheartedly and lower your voice’s volume to match his, “Jamil Viper, right? I’m Arcturus, but you can call me y/n.”

Jamil blinks rapidly while his mouth continuously opens and closes. He’s clearly caught off guard by the mention of the bright star, but you seem completely unphased by his reaction.

“You’re pranking me, right? Did Ace tell you to say that?”

“Who— ah, your friend with the heart marking? No, he didn’t.”

“Then Deuce did?”

“Not him either. This isn’t a prank, Jamil. I’m really Arcturus,” you state firmly.

The man narrows his eyes suspiciously at you, “prove it.”

“Hm… let’s see,” you tap your chin as you mentally sort through the many wishes Jamil has made as a child. “Ah! When you were 10 years-old, you wished for a pet tyrannosaurus rex after watching the Jurassic Park movies.”

“That’s a lucky guess.”

“Fine. Wouldn’t it be better if you made a wish now and I grant it? You can’t tell me I just got lucky then.”

“Are you tricking me into making a wish? Are you sure you’re not just a sneaky little genie?” Jamil asks playfully.

“I can see why you’d think that I’m a genie, but as you can see: there’s no magic lamps involved here,” you state with a bright smile, one that doesn’t do justice to how brightly you shine in the sky. “And I wouldn’t trick you like they would either. Just tell me your wishes as they come to your heart, and I’ll make them come true. That’s what I’ve always done, right?”

Jamil wasn’t expecting for you to answer so genuinely. They were just rhetorical questions he asked without thinking, but he could tell that you were being truthful.

Still, a big part of him is suspicious.

In what world would a star become a human? And out of all the things they could do, why would they come and find him?

The other, smaller part of him wants to believe you. So he plays along and decides to humor you.

“Just like that?” Jamil asks with an eyebrow cocked up apprehensively.

“Well, you know, there are rules. But yes: just like that.”

“Okay… and what are the rules?”

“They’re exactly what you’d think they’d be: nothing illegal, nothing that can harm others— which, uh, I guess ties into the first rule.”

“And how many do I get?”

“Three.”

“Ahah, so you admit that you’re a genie.”

“Not a genie,” you giggle before tapping the tip of Jamil’s nose gently. “So, what would you like to wish for first?”

“That’s a very important decision, Arct—”

“Y/n,” you quickly interrupt the man to correct him.

“Y/n,” Jamil articulates with a raise of his eyebrows and a nod, “you’ll have to give me some time to think. I’m not even sure what I want to wish for yet.”

“Boo!” you whine, leaning over the long desk with your arms stretched out in front of you. “Well, if I have to wait then it shouldn’t be in the middle of a boring history lecture.”

As if on cue, the screen of Jamil’s phone lights up to indicate that he has a missed notification. He narrows his eyes at you one last time before unlocking his phone.

“Huh,” Jamil makes a sound that's mixed with surprise and confusion when he reads a new email on his phone. “My professor has never canceled class before. Did you… did you do this?”

You shrug when Jamil points his phone at you accusingly. But you’re pleased to see that he seems to believe you a bit more now.

There’s loud shuffling noises coming from all around you as students busy themselves by cheering for their canceled lecture and packing up their untouched laptops.

“So?” you ask, an expectant look on your face.

Jamil bites on his lower lip and taps the cap of a pen on the desk rhythmically. He stares off into space, seemingly deep in thought, and you wait patiently for him to sort through his predictably long lists of possibilities.

“Would it…” you start, poking at Jamil’s forearm to make him look at you. “Would it help if I mention that you can still make wishes even after the three?”

“What do you mean?” Jamil tilts his head, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“I mean, I only came down here because hanging out in the sky all night long is so boring. You try doing it for a countless amount of centuries, then trust me — you’ll understand,” you wave your hands dismissively. “Anyways, that’s besides the point. The point is: you had unlimited wishes when you were a child, and you’ll still have unlimited wishes after I finish granting the three here.”

Jamil nods in understanding before abruptly standing up and slinging a backpack strap over his shoulder, “you should’ve led with that, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not used to speaking to humans directly,” you say before your eyes shift between Jamil’s face and the hand he’s holding out towards you. “What?”

“I think I might know what my first wish is, so come on,” Jamil inches his hand closer to you, a signal for you to place yours in his.

You comply, allowing the man to pull you out of the empty classroom and towards an unknown location.

It’s a sunny day, a perfect day for an afternoon stroll. And despite it being the middle of the fall semester, there’s more than a handful of students frolicking in the spacious college yard instead of studying.

The sight of them being so happy and carefree brings a smile to your face. It’s rare for you to see humans during the day time — and even more rare for you to see them not stressed out by something when you do get the chance.

Really, most of the time the bright sun rays block the sight of earth from you. It restricts you to only observing them during the nighttime, when most of the population is already asleep.

Soon, the large crowds of students become much more sparse until only a few of them are left hanging around.

“Um, Jamil? Where are we going exactly?” you chime up.

It takes a few more minutes of walking before Jamil finally stops, and your shoulder accidentally bumps into his back from your lack of attention.

“Here,” Jamil turns around to face you, his ears completely blocking out your murmured apology.

You lean over to the side to peek behind Jamil only to straighten up and raise an eyebrow at the man a second after, “and what are we doing standing by this long stretch of pavement?”

“We’re here for my first wish: I wish to learn how to roller skate.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“That’s… a very tame wish,” you state plainly.

You take Jamil’s backpack off his shoulder before squatting down and unzipping it. Your hand digs into the textbook filled space and pulls out a pair of roller skates.

Jamil’s eyes practically bulge out in shock when he sees them, because there’s no way something like that could have fit inside his small backpack.

“But as you wish,” you grin as you hold the roller skates up towards Jamil.

“Whoa, how’d you do that?” Jamil gasps as he takes them from you.

“Do you believe me now?” you counter, crossing your arms and watching as Jamil hurries to replace his tennis shoes.

“I’m ninety-nine percent convinced. Just depends on how quickly I learn how to roller skate now.”

“You know that I’m not a miracle worker, right?” you stand up quickly, your arms reaching out just in time to catch Jamil as he slips forward.

When the man turns his head, your faces are so close to one-another that the tips of your noses touch.

“S—sorry. Tha—thank you,” Jamil manages to stammer out, his ears immediately turning a bright shade of red from embarrassment as he straightens up.

You’re undeterred from the close proximity, human feelings of embarrassment or shyness not a part of your vocabulary. So you giggle and merely find Jamil’s reaction dramatic and adorable.

“Don’t be so jumpy. How am I supposed to teach you if you don’t let me get close enough to do so?” you stand behind Jamil’s wobbly frame, your hands placed on either side of his waist to steady him.

“Well, I thought you’d snap your fingers and I’d just magically know,” Jamil mumbles.

“I could, but that’s no fun, Jamil. And I came here to have fun.”

“I thought you came here to grant my wishes.”

“Oh, that too,” you nod, though the carefree tone of your voice does nothing to convince Jamil of your intentions. “Now, we’ll start off by teaching you the correct posture. The most important thing here is balance, so I’ll have to let you go now.”

“Perfect,” Jamil’s body stiffens once he feels your warmth leave his body.

The chilly autumn air does nothing to help him from missing your earlier proximity. But the more you try to coach him through the basics of roller skating, the warmer his body gets.

To anyone on the outside looking in, it may seem that Jamil is a natural at the sport. But, as fast a learner Jamil is regularly, there is no way he’s able to pick up on things as quickly as he did today.

Not to mention, his friends have already tried multiple times to teach him how to roller skate before with minimal success.

Who would have thought all-rounder Jamil Viper actually had a weakness?

Now it feels as if Jamil is moving off of muscle memory. The things that you instruct him to do sounds unfamiliar to his ears, but his body follows everything to a T.

You watch like a proud parent while Jamil glides up and down the long walk of pavement as if he’s been doing it his entire life. The sound of his gleeful laughter ringing through the air makes you smile brightly in response.

“Should we try doing some tricks now?” you ask as Jamil passes by you again.

At your question, Jamil presses down hard on his right toe to break and gives you a panicked look, “are you serious?”

“I’m serious and I haven’t failed you yet,” you place your hands on your hips, the determined look on your face telling Jamil that he couldn’t back down now.

“If you can actually teach me how to do tricks by the end of the day, then I’ll believe you.”

“Oh, done deal!” you clap in excitement, “let’s get started then!”

❥

“Remind me again why we’re here, Jamil?” you ask as you gaze up at the intricate entrance to the Centre Pompidou.

“I’m studying architecture. I wanted to see all the famous monuments of France for my studies since my classmate Rook wouldn’t stop talking about it,” Jamil replies, his hands busy taking pictures of the complex building with his phone.

“And here I thought you were just making any excuse to miss your classes.”

“Would you judge me if I say that’s kind of true?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” you shake your head before holding your hands out. “Here: do you want me to take a picture for you?”

“Oh, sure. Thank you,” Jamil hands you his phone before jogging a few feet forward and facing you.

With a few clicks of the Camera app, you complete the routine that’s been established for the past few days since you’ve arrived in Paris, France.

Jamil’s second wish was quickly made the day after you taught him how to roller skate. After spending the night thinking about all the things he never got the chance to do, he went out to find you again.

It wasn’t hard for him to, you’d already told him that you’d be hanging around one of the many coffee shops surrounding the college campus.

“Oh, thank goodness you found me. I was starting to get bored,” you sigh in relief when you look up from your laptop to find Jamil sliding into the seat across from yours.

He doesn’t bother to ask where your laptop came from, or how you have the money to pay for the mocha latte in your hands. At this point, he believes that you’re capable of more things than he could possibly ever understand.

“Are you okay? Is there something on my face?” you ask when Jamil doesn’t say anything.

You gently pat your cheeks in search of anything that feels out of place, assuming that’s why Jamil is staring at you wordlessly.

“What? Oh. No. Sorry, no. You, uh, you— you look great,” Jamil shakes his head quickly before he presses his lips into a thin line and averts his eyes down to the coffee table. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

You know that Jamil is usually not shy, usually not someone who stammers unless he’s nervous — it’s a rare occurrence.

So, you think perhaps he finds you intimidating: a celestial body who could probably strike him down if he’s not being too careful with himself.

It could explain why he treats you like one of his friends one minute but becomes flustered the next.

“You know that I’m not going to strike you down with lightning, right?” you lean forward with your arms crossed on the table and your lips curved up into an amused smile.

“L—lightning?” Jamil asks nervously as he scratches the nape of his neck. “Would you be able to? Strike me with lightning, I mean.”

“My name isn’t ‘Malleus’, but yes: I could if I really wanted to,” you shrug nonchalantly. A horrified look appears on Jamil’s face, and you would have found it comical if he didn’t look exactly like a deer in headlights. “But you haven’t done anything to warrant that, so don’t be so scared.”

“I’m not scared. It’s just that you’re… kind of intimidating,” Jamil huffs.

“Are you intimidated because I’m not actually human, or because your charmingly good looks don’t have any affect on me?”

“Um…” Jamil looks at you in the same way a guilty child would look at their parents during a scolding: with wide puppy dog eyes and lips jutting out into a pout. “The first one?”

“You mean the second one,” you correct the man confidently. “It’s not the first option because you still don’t believe me yet, but you will soon.

“Speaking of which,” you clear your throat before leaning in closer and lowering your voice, “do you have any ideas for your second wish?”

“Oh. Actually, y—yeah, I do,” Jamil says slowly, almost hesitantly.

“You don’t sound very confident about that.”

“Well, it’s a very big wish. I, uh… I wish I could go to France.”

“Now that’s the kind of wish I’ve been waiting for,” you nod in approval before taking your last sip of coffee and firmly placing the cup down. “Let’s go.”

“What, now?” Jamil emphasizes the last word with the raise of his eyebrows. “Y/n, you’re always in a rush, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry, I’m just used to getting these wishes done right away. So… not right now?”

“Oh, no, we can go today. I’d just need to pack some stuff first.”

“Ah, that’s right,” your mouth opens into a small ‘o’ when you realize you’ve been rushing to get moving without thinking first. “Yes, go pack whatever you need and come find me again when you’re ready to go.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later?” Jamil is already up from his chair before he could finish the question.

The excitement he exudes is contagious and you couldn’t hold back the giggle bubbling up in your chest.

“You know where to find me,” you wave the man off, gesturing for him to leave the coffee shop quickly.

Less than a week has passed since Jamil made the wish that has you turning into a tourist, but it feels like you’ve spent at least a month together.

You spend every day in the same fashion as you did today: head off to a famous French monument that was in a far too long list Rook provided Jamil, he takes who knows how many pictures for future references, and then you offer to take his pictures.

You have the steadiest hands out of anyone you know — which, to be fair, isn’t that many humans in the first place — yet those pictures always turn out somewhat blurry.

Today’s pictures at the Centre Pompidou is no exception to this.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I bother anymore. You should just delete those,” you sigh, your shoulders drooping in defeat as you watch Jamil swipe through his camera roll.

Despite you telling him that every single time, Jamil always keeps the pictures that you take of him.

Then, when you aren’t looking, when you’re busy taking in the beautiful sights around you, Jamil sneaks in a few pictures of you.

He’s not sure what will happen to them once you’re gone. Would they stay on his phone and you simply become a J. Doe to the rest of the world? Or would they disappear forever as if you were never there to begin with?

He bets if he asked you nicely, you’d allow him to keep those memories with him.

“So, shall we go inside?” you ask as you shove your hands into the pockets of your wool overcoat.

Your question interrupts Jamil’s brief thoughts, who merely blinks before he turns his attention to you, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Do you want to go inside?” you reword and repeat your question.

“Oh. Yeah, let’s go,” Jamil nods and holds a hand out towards you.

You hesitate for only a moment before you take a hand out of your pocket and place it in his. Your skin feels cold against Jamil’s, though it’s uncertain if it’s because of the weather or something else.

Still, in an attempt to keep you warm, Jamil intertwines his fingers with yours and sticks your hands into his kangaroo pocket.

How did Jamil get from jumpy and intimidated to becoming comfortable enough to hold your hands in a matter of a week? Even he wouldn’t be able to give you an answer for that.

Perhaps his courage is influenced by the atmosphere that the city of love provides; it’s where couples in love roam freely, they hold hands and sneak in kisses whenever they can.

Jamil tells himself that the two of you are merely blending in with the crowd — that there’s no way he has a crush on you.

But as he watches you studying the artwork displayed neatly along cream-colored walls, he finds that he’d prefer to look at you instead of the exhibitions.

Snap out of it, Jamil Viper.

As if you could read his thoughts, you defy him, appearing in front of the man like an unexpected dream. Like always, there’s a beautifully wide smile on your face that makes Jamil’s heart skip a beat just at the sight of it.

“Are you okay? You’re all spaced out today.”

“What? No, I’m not,” Jamil huffs before he steps aside to let a group of tourists walk past.

“No, you’re not okay or no, you’re not spacing out?”

“No, I’m not spacing out. I was just deep in thought— yeah, deep in thoughts of what this painting could possibly mean,” Jamil gestures towards a medium-sized canvas to his right without really looking at it.

“That’s a painting of the Mona Lisa holding a chubby ginger cat. I’m not really sure that there’s any special meaning to it,” you chuckle briefly before you reach out to gently tug at the sleeve of Jamil’s hoodie. “Come on, mister, let’s go.”

“Where are we going, exactly?” Jamil asks as he uncrosses his arms and allows you to drag him past the long and heavily populated hallways of the art gallery.

“I figured you could use a change of pace from all the art museums and history— not that there’s anything wrong with any of those places. But I planned a little surprise for you.”

“You did?” Jamil’s eyebrows quirk up in surprise.

“Okay, I admit the idea just popped into my head,” you glare playfully at the man. “But I’m not the one trying to find a deeper meaning to a cat painting.”

Jamil doesn’t say anything in response, doesn’t try to tell you that he finds you even more mesmerizing than all the artwork in the building combined — and that he’d been staring at you this entire time.

He just lets out a short laugh and nods in agreement.

You stop in front of an emergency exit door before turning around to face Jamil. The serious look on your face is a rare sight to see and the man knows that he should take your next words seriously.

“Don’t freak out when I open this door,” you say slowly, making sure to enunciate every word.

Jamil nods again before his eyes trail up to the bright exit sign above the door, “are we… going to trigger the fire alarm for fun?”

“Definitely not. I’m sure that actually goes against both of my rules,” you take a few steps backwards until your back is pressed against the push pad of the exit device.

Jamil braces himself for bright flashing lights and loud alarms when you push the door open, but he’s met with neither of those things.

Instead, he sees beautiful shades of orange on the other side of the door. There’s a generously wide and long stretch of grass lined with various types of trees, and both locals and tourists lounging about the large space.

“Don’t worry, we’re here for a picnic,” you nod your head towards the scene, waiting for Jamil to walk past the threshold of the door to follow him out.

Jamil glances back when the door softly shuts behind you, the surprise evident on his face when he finds that it’s been replaced by a black Peugeot 208.

“Sometimes I forget that you’re actually a magical being who can do stuff like that.”

“And you don’t seem as shocked as you should be for a human being,” you shoot back with a grin. “Not that I’m complaining. I’d much prefer that to you screaming in fear.”

Jamil looks unamused at your last sentence. He knows exactly what you are referring to: the first time he experienced the unexplainable things that you are capable of.

That experience was similar to what you’d done just now, and it was what solidified his belief in you.

“Okay, but you didn’t warn me that opening the door to a washroom was going to lead me to the top of the Eiffel Tower. This is a lot more acceptable.”

“Well, I figured we could make the journey a lot easier and faster by doing that,” you shrug, the contents of the picnic basket in your hands making soft shuffling noises as you move. “Now, let’s go find an open space to sit.”

You follow closely behind Jamil as he maneuvers around small clusters of chatty folks, most of which doesn't hear his muttered “excuse me.”

You follow him until you reach nearly the end of the grassy terrain where there is a decent amount of available space for you to lay a blanket on top.

“Where are we anyways?” Jamil asks once you’re situated on top of the thick blanket protecting your clothes from the damp grass.

“The Luxembourg Gardens. I overheard someone saying that it’s the perfect spot for a picnic, and figured you could use the change in scenery.”

Jamil has to admit that you’re right about that.

The much needed fresh air aside, Jamil finds that he surprisingly enjoys seeing all the beauty that nature has to offer as much as he enjoys studying the intricate ways buildings can be made.

Or, at least, he used to enjoy it.

That was before he decided to take on as many classes as he could in a single semester when he started college. All his time is spent on studying and making sure he got all his assignments done on time.

Somewhere along the way, he even managed to secure an internship that took up even more of his time and attention.

What little free time he earned would be spent on making sure his friends knew that he was still a functioning member of society. Even then, Jamil would spend the entire time thinking about both the assignments he’s already completed and the ones he left for later.

Ace would say that he’s burned out and needs to step foot outside of the college grounds more often.

Now he’s really taken that advice to heart, because how much farther away from college could he get than Paris, France?

“Clear your head and eat a carrot, Jamil,” you interrupt the man’s thoughts by waving a baby carrot in front of his face.

“Veggies,” Jamil groans before a look of utter disgust overtakes his features.

“What?” you ask in the most innocent tone you could muster up and bring the carrot closer to Jamil’s face.

“Please, I’ll literally eat anything else,” Jamil sticks his tongue out in a mock gagging motion as he leans further away from your hand.

“You mean you’ll eat anything that’s not fruits or vegetables, right? That’s bad, you know,” you click your tongue in disapproval before taking a small bite of the baby carrot. “Maybe you should use your last wish to make all of it taste like pasta.”

“Can you do that?”

“I could but I won’t.”

“Why not?!”

“Because I will not be the person responsible for you getting tired of eating pasta. You’ll hate me forever and I don’t want that.”

“Well, I’ll hate you anyways if there’s no pasta in that basket,” Jamil says jokingly, his teasing causing you to throw the baby carrot towards his chest in retaliation. “Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

You narrow your eyes at the man before you stick a hand inside the picnic basket and pull out a plastic container filled with chicken alfredo. Jamil lets out a loud cheer at the sight and smell of the food, his abrupt holler earning him a few glances from nearby visitors.

“You get so excited about food, Jamil. I remember you used to wish for sushi and ramen all the time as a child,” you giggle, watching with sparkling eyes as Jamil takes the container from your hands and hurriedly opens it.

“Well, the purpose of life is to eat and enjoy as much food as you can, you know?”

“Oh, is it now?”

“It sure as heck is the purpose of mine,” Jamil nods firmly.

You hum in response and curl up into a loose ball with your arms hugging your legs and chin resting on top of your knees. Your eyes flutter shut just as a gentle breeze begins to blow.

The sun is setting behind Jamil’s hunched over figure, the warm sunlight illuminating your figure and making you appear nearly ethereal in Jamil’s eyes.

You’re so beautiful.

Jamil averts his eyes just as quickly as the thought enters his mind; and as he shoves forkfuls of pasta into his mouth, he tries hard to ignore the warm feeling igniting inside his chest.

❥

“This is a dream, isn’t it?”

“What?” you ask, turning your head to look at Jamil who is laying towards the opposite direction of you but with his head resting right by yours.

“I keep thinking that this entire trip — and you — are all just part of a really long dream,” Jamil sighs before he also turns his head towards you.

“Would you like me to pinch you? Isn’t that what people do when they think they’re dreaming?”

Jamil laughs at your questions, his warm breath fanning across your face and his eyes curving into rainbows. He knows that you’re genuinely asking, but he still finds you too innocent and adorable for your own good.

“No, I think I’d like to stay inside this dream. But thank you for the offer.”

“You’re welcome.”

Comfortable silence blankets over the two of you as you resume your previous activities of stargazing. At least, an attempt is made because there aren't as many stars in the Paris night sky as you’d like there to be.

Regardless of that, Jamil tries to savor every moment of relaxation he’s been awarded since you’ve come into his life.

He can’t remember the last time he’s been able to take a step back to just breathe like this.

His normal life has no time for hobbies — there isn’t any time to spare to learn how to ice skate, roller skate, snowboard, or any other fun activities his friends like to do.

This is the first time he’s been able to travel out of the country, for vacation no less, and he isn’t even stressed out about the schoolwork he’s probably missing out on right now.

It feels like a dream: being able to lay on the grass of the Luxembourg Gardens with no worries and with you by his side.

“I wish that this dream would last forever,” Jamil whispers, his voice barely audible but you’re close enough that you can still hear him. “Can you make that happen?”

“You’ll have to be more specific, Jamil.”

“It’s just that… since you came along, I feel like I can finally breathe again. This is the most relaxed and carefree I’ve felt in a very long time. I didn’t even realize how stressed out I was before, and—and I don’t want to go back. ”

You had an inkling that Jamil may have gotten attached to you, may have gotten used to having your constant presence by his side. That’s why he feels so comfortable around you now — at least, enough to make jokes and tease you when he could.

It never occurred to you that he may want to keep you by his side when you’re not able to do so. Not until now.

“I wish…”

You hold your breath as you wait for Jamil to continue his sentence. You know that once he makes his third and final wish, you’ll immediately and completely disappear from his life.

Perhaps, it is for the better that he’ll have no recollection of you besides as a star in the sky.

“I wish I could continue to feel this way. I wish, among all the stress and madness, I’ll also have the time to be free and enjoy life,” Jamil laughs at himself, finding himself silly for saying the words out loud. He turns to you with a soft smile on his face, “can you make that happen? It’s a pretty tall order.”

You nod slowly, refusing to look at the man as you mumble, “as you wish.”

With those words, your body begins to emit a gentle white glow.

At first, Jamil thinks it’s a reaction of you granting his wish. But as your body becomes more and more transparent, the panic settles more and more inside his heart.

“Y/n?” Jamil calls out, his voice shaky as he reaches out to cup your cheek. His hand passes through your disappearing body, causing him to panic even more and the volume of his voice rising as he calls out for you again. “Y/n!”

A final burst of bright white light makes Jamil shut his eyes tightly and shield them with his hands. Just as quickly as the light came, he finds himself surrounded by darkness and quiet once again.

When Jamil finally opens his eyes, he finds himself lying down in the backseat of Ace’s car. He groans, carefully getting up without moving Lilia’s sleeping figure too much.

He rests his friend’s head on his shoulder after he sits up and looks out the car window, “where are we?”

“Oh, you’re up?” Ace replies as he glances up at the rear-view mirror to look at Jamil’s dark silhouette.

“Yeah, I had the strangest dream: I was in Paris.”

“You must have been hanging out with some mimes because you were laughing a lot in your sleep.”

“Was I?” Jamil raises an eyebrow skeptically. “I can’t even remember what the dream was about anymore. All I remember is standing on top of the Eiffel Tower.”

“Well, don’t go back to sleep because we’re about half an hour away from the dorm now.”

“Sure,” Jamil adjusts his position so he can prop his elbow and chin up on an arm rest.

He watches as they drive past a handful of traffic lights and countless street lights, a strange feeling of being out of place poking at him.

But he pushes the feeling away for the remainder of the drive back to the dorms. He continues to push it away when he sinks into his dorm bed in exhaustion 30 minutes later and dreams of seeing Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower.

The next morning, Jamil wakes up to about a dozen emails that all include some sort of revision to the class syllabi.

“What in the world?” Jamil asks, his voice groggy from sleep and his eyes blinking against the bright light of his phone screen.

Once his eyes have adjusted, Jamil scrolls through the emails before logging into every student portal available to him. He double, triple, and quadruple-checks every platform to make sure his professors weren’t simply playing a trick on him.

“Good morning, Jamil!” a familiar voice gleefully calls out.

Light pours into the room as the door is opened by none other than a smiling Ace. His cheerful demeanor further confirms that Jamil wasn’t simply imagining the emails.

“Did you hear the good news yet?” Ace ignores the protests of Jamil’s roommate as he prances into the room and plops down on the edge of his friend’s bed. He doesn’t wait for Jamil to answer before he continues talking, “now we have all this free time outside of getting our major projects done. What are we gonna do with ourselves?”

Despite still being half-asleep, Jamil can’t deny that he’s also filled with delight at the unexpected news. His mind is already going through all the things he’s been holding off on doing — but he can’t seem to wave off a major sense of déjà vu as he does so.

“Oh, wait. How about we finally teach you how to roller skate?” Ace pats Jamil’s shoulder to catch his attention.

“No offense, Ace, but you’re way too energetic in the morning,” Jamil groans and pulls his blanket up to his chin. He squints at Ace’s unwavering grin for a few silent seconds before he finally sighs and rolls his eyes. “Okay, I’m in.”

“That’s the spirit! I’ll let the guys know,” Ace silently cheers, saving Jamil’s roommate from the unwelcomed noise before he saunters out just as quickly as he came in.

On a normal day, even if Jamil said that he was in, he still wouldn’t have enough free time to actually learn anything besides the basics — if that.

So it’s a nice change of pace when, less than an hour later, he meets his friends besides the same stretch of pavement as where you granted him his first wish.

He doesn’t remember those events in detail, only as fleeting events of a strange dream, and dismisses his sense of déjà vu as having been at this spot many times before.

“You still remember the basics, right?” his friend Kalim asks as he holds his arms out towards Jamil.

Jamil gratefully grabs onto the long limbs for support as he slowly gets up, his legs wobbling while he tries to balance himself on the roller skates.

“Have you been practicing without us?” Lilia asks with his gaze fixed on Jamil’s legs.

It’s a harmless question that’s only asked because Jamil’s not very big on balance. No, usually he and Kalim would have to keep a close eye on their friend to make sure his legs aren’t floundering like fish on dry land.

But today, Jamil seems stable on his own, and they step back and watch in surprise as Jamil glides freely without them.

“Oh, Ace’s not going to believe this,” Lilia laughs before dragging Jamil’s backpack to his side and rummaging through the pockets for his phone.

Lilia unlocks the phone with every intent to take a video of Jamil acing the Basics of Roller Skating 101. But a recent picture displayed on the lower left hand corner of the Camera app catches his attention.

“Jamil, do you have a partner? They’re cute,” Lilia comments after he’s clicked on the display and enlarges the photograph. “I mean, thanks a lot for not telling us though.”

“What? Where? Who?” Kalim quickly appears behind Lilia to peer over the shorter man’s shoulder.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. When do I have the time for a partner?” Jamil furrows his eyebrows in confusion as he makes his way over to his huddled up friends.

Kalim and Lilia exchange looks of disbelief before Lilia holds the phone out so Jamil could look at what’s displayed on the screen.

His breath hitches when he sees a picture of you.

They’re the same photographs that you didn’t know he’d taken of you. They’re proof that you were real — and you existed in this world briefly although Jamil has no recollection of who you are.

And if you’d known those pictures existed, they’d have been erased from Jamil’s memory just like everything else had been.

“I… I have no idea who this is,” Jamil says unconvincingly as he takes his phone away from Lilia.

He can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from the still of your face. The bright smile you’ve always graced him with is permanently captured within a photograph of a J. Doe.

Jamil can’t remember meeting someone with your face. He certainly doesn’t remember your name or why he would have your picture on his phone.

But the longer he stares at the pictures, the farther the warmth igniting in his chest spreads throughout his body.

A single, short thought enters his mind.

Thank you.

And although he doesn’t know why he thought that, he has the sneaking suspicion it has something to do with the person in the photographs.

Do not speak to me for a few minutes. I’m molting. I need a beach episode event like, now.

Art is by yudo_fu_nabe on Twitter!

I'm sorry, I HAD to

A Secret Santa gift for @tingerines!

Summary: Leona and Jamil found out they had an error in their chosen person to give, and so they decided to work together to create you the gift.

⋙l o a d i n g…

loading completed! ✓ …━━━━━☆

┏ ⋙ Secret Santas (Jamil x Reader x Leona) (not specified romantically or platonically, up to you) ┛

♧…━━━━━☆

“What the…” Leona squinted his eyes as he looked at the paper slip he held in his hands.

Because of the headmaster, the “Secret Santa” game was compulsory to all students and unfortunately if you got a name you did not know, you would have to spend weeks frantically going under cover. 

For Leona, this sounded like a nightmare. Regardless of who’s name, he’s got to prepare a gift for SOMEONE. That’s a lot of work he doesn’t want to get his paws hands dirty on. However, it seems that Leona had gotten a name that he didn’t mind. A name greater than Rook and Floyd (well, “obviously” he would say-).

Your name.

But what to get for you? What to get for you…

Walking away from the box of slips he begrudgingly lined at, he bumped into a student, his slip of paper flew out of his hand and swayed towards the ground with another slip of paper.

“Hey, Viper watch where you’re going,” the Savanaclaw dorm leader said with an irritated tone. Jamil just frowned, muttering a half-hearted apology as he reached down to grab his slip of paper.

“Hang on…” 

“What?” 

Jamil reached over to take the two slips of papers as he inspected them with a baffled look on his face. “Why do they both have Y/N’s name on it?” 

Leona squinted his emerald eyes, and sure enough, the slips of paper had your name written on both of them. “What the hell?” Leona took the two slips in disbelief as Jamil rolled his eyes.

“Listen, why not we take this to Headmaster Crowley? Some sorry student won’t have a gift because of one of us.”

“What if it’s an odd number of students?”

“You really want to risk that?”

“Why not? Come on, let’s just work on a gift together, no?” Leona smirked. Leona didn’t really care what the odds were. He just wanted to do less work AND still be able to get you a gift. That sly, sneaky, SMUG dusty cat really is such a pain that Jamil understood. However, he noted that if he did tell the headmaster, he’d risked the chances of not being your secret Santa. He sighed, as he averted his eyes away from the lion and crossed his arms with the same frown still present on his face.

“Fine.” He hated how Leona smirked, but whatever. He’ll get this over with and done, and on the way decide if he wanted to take the full credit or not.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

“Oh my sevens…” Jamil groaned as he turned to look at Leona with an annoyed look. Baking a log cake was something foreign to Jamil, and Leona was doing literally nothing to help him. Not even reading out the ingredients he required to use. “Are you gonna help?”

“Maybe,” Leona yawned. Jamil gritted his teeth, hand clutching onto the spatula even tighter as he stirred the sweet Christmas cake batter with bitterness.

Who does this guy think he is? You know what, I’m definitely taking all credit, it’s true I’m doing everything.

As Jamil continued stirring, he heard his senior yawned, grunting softly as he saw turned to see the lion stretch his stiff muscles and lazily dragged his feet over to the kitchen counter.

Leona blinked, as he looked towards Jamil who averted his eyes away from him with a frown. He turned his head towards the raspberries Jamil was supposed to cut laid on the chopping board untouched. Without saying a word, Leona grabbed a knife from the wooden holder, before swiftly slicing them.

“Hey! Wha-!”

“You needed to slice them up, right? Well, I’m doing it for you.”

Jamil stood baffled and dumbfounded as Leona nonchalantly cut up the raspberries. What a weird guy…

Leona peered over to Jamil once again, emerald eyes blankly looking at the vice dorm with a bored expression.

“…So, I heard from Kalim you’re going to spend Christmas over here.”

“What about it?”

“Don’t you have a sister? Don’t you wanna see her?”

“Well, Kalim’s family’s coming to NRC for a visit, and I need to be there to prepare.”

“Well that’s shit,” Leona bluntly replied.

“What’s your deal, seriously.” Jamil was just ticked off by this point, as this man in front of him was giving him so many mixed signals that he doesn’t understand.

“Listen, you should probably tell Kalim you’d rather go be with your family right now. Besides, he’s someone with plenty of servants, right? Just go be with em.”

“And why do you care?”

“I’m making sure you don’t regret being wasting your time and not being a big brother to your little sister.”

Jamil looked at Leona, the dicing of the raspberries being chopped up with the knife, the smooth, sharp and silver metal hitting the wooden board. 

“Listen, my brother most of the time never was available for Christmas since he’s too busy with his King duties. Whenever he does show up, he gets super disappointed when he can’t come see us, and his face…” Leona paused, “Well, I can clearly see regret written all over.”

“The situation’s getting better over the years, but listen, I’m not saying neglect your duties, but don’t forget to not neglect your family. Otherwise, your face would pucker worse than when you swallow a whole lemon.”

Jamil stared at Leona in awe. Just what in the Sevens-

The boy’s eyes faltered, eyelids half-lidded as he looked dazed and caught up in his moment of self-reflection.

He smirked. “You think my sister’s as thoughtful as you are? I never knew you as the little brother would care so much about your older brother?”

“Oh don’t push it, Mr. Bleeding Heart-”

 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

“Hey, Y/n.”

“Hm?”

You turned to see Leona yawning as he approached you, Jamil trailing behind. You blinked curiously at the pink cloth that seemed to wrap some kind of block, log even, as you smiled kindly.

“What’s up?”

“We’re your secret Santas. Don’t ask why you have two,” Leona bluntly replied, giving your gift which turned out to be a crudely frosted log cake, yet the decor of it were placed exquisitely with detail, as if fitting a puzzle piece to perfection.

“Hope you enjoy, Y/n,” Jamil politely smiled.

♧…━━━━━☆

Hey, sorry for the late gifting @tingerines but I was your secret santa! I’ve been away, out of town so wasn’t able to send your gift on Christmas like how I had originally planned to.

Hope you enjoy!

<3

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

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! 😊