Hey, Little Shrimpy~!

it was all a dream!!

nighttime routine - floyd

ꮼ 𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗔 𝗕𝗜𝗚 𝗕𝗢𝗬 𝗡𝗢𝗪, 𝗡𝗢 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗙𝗘𝗖𝗧'𝗦 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗕𝗢𝗬.

ᦸ grim was an annoyance to everyone, but the ramshackle prefect never made him feel as if he was one.

Grim was the type of creature to act tougher, with more hisses than bites, because that was how the world had taught him to be.

Grim was the type of creature to act tougher, with more hisses than bites, because that was how the world had taught him to be.

That is until he met you.

He had never known the comfort and safety a pair of arms wrapped around him could bring. It was unfamiliar, to have such a nice feeling when all his life, he’d been seen as nothing but a mere rascal that causes disturbance and annoyance to anyone who has the misfortune of meeting him. It wasn't his fault, dreams are meant to be big and hard to achieve, right? So why was it that others sneered and mocked his dreams of achieving a bright future where people will acknowledge him as something other than a bother?  Other students could dream without experiencing any of the things he had gone through. 

Grim truly believes that in order for him to be loved, he must go down as one of the greatest. He would fight fangs and claws just to be able to achieve that feat.

But how come you’ve only nodded at him and told him that you believe he could reach his dream—a dream that seemed so unreachable for a creature like him no matter how much he denies it—all while having that stupid smile on your face?

It was weird. You were weird.

The room was unusually quiet.

No glowing monitors. No game soundtrack humming in the background. Just the faint light of the moon slipping through the curtains and the soft sound of rain tapping against the window.

You blinked up at the ceiling, then turned your head.

"...Can't sleep either?"

Idia was already looking at you, his blue flames flickering just a little brighter as he let out an embarrassed laugh.

"I've been staring at you for... uh... probably twenty minutes."

"You creep."

"I know."

You smiled anyway.

His room felt different without the constant glow of screens. Smaller. Warmer. More intimate.

You rolled onto your side until your noses were almost touching.

"I like seeing you like this."

"...Like what?"

"Without hiding behind a keyboard."

His hair turned pink almost instantly.

"I hate when you say things like that."

"Because they're true?"

"...Because you know exactly what they do to me."

You couldn't help but grin.

"So my awkward gamer boyfriend still gets flustered after all this time?"

"I get flustered because you're unfair."

Before you could tease him again, he reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

Such a tiny gesture.

Yet it stole every clever response from your mind.

His thumb lingered against your cheek.

"You look too pretty..."

His voice had dropped to barely more than a whisper.

"...It's distracting."

Your heart skipped.

"You've been staring at me for twenty minutes."

"...Thirty, actually."

You laughed quietly before closing the remaining distance between you.

The kiss started soft.

Slow.

The kind where neither of you was in any hurry.

His fingers carefully found your waist, almost hesitant, as though he was still asking for permission despite knowing the answer.

When you leaned closer, he melted into the mattress with the smallest sigh.

"I swear," he murmured against your lips, "you're gonna be the death of me."

"You'll survive."

"...Probably."

Another kiss.

Longer this time.

Warmer.

When your hand slipped into his hair, the pink flames flickered brighter, casting dancing shadows across the room.

"There it is," you whispered.

"My flames always give me away..."

"They're cute."

"They're not supposed to be cute."

"They're very cute."

"...I'm trying to have a romantic moment here."

"You are."

"...You're ruining it."

"I don't think I am."

You smiled before kissing the corner of his mouth.

Then his jaw.

Then his neck.

He inhaled sharply.

"O-Okay..."

His composure cracked almost immediately.

"...That's... that's really unfair."

"You complain a lot."

"I do."

"And yet you're not stopping me."

"...I don't want to."

The confession came so quietly that it almost disappeared into the rain outside.

You rested your forehead against his.

"I love you, Idia."

His eyes softened in a way only you ever got to see.

"I know."

A pause.

"...And I love you so much it honestly scares me sometimes."

You smiled.

"Good."

"...Good?"

"It means we're equally hopeless."

He laughed—an actual laugh, warm and genuine.

"...Yeah."

His fingers intertwined with yours beneath the blanket.

"I think," he whispered, pressing one last lingering kiss to your forehead, "I'd stay awake every night if it meant having moments like this with you."

Outside, the rain continued to fall.

Inside, wrapped safely in each other's arms, neither of you cared what time it was anymore.

Legend has it there was once a Prefect at NRC.

The Prefect appeared one day with chaos at their heels.

Not much is known about them as an individual, but they are known for their achievements.

They stopped great calamities that befell the Island of Sage.

At times, even stopped Twisted Wonderland from unraveling.

Not much is known about what happened to them.

Some say they returned from whence they came.

Some say they chose to stay.

Some say they even found romance or traveled the world.

But there is one aspect everyone agrees on.

They were cherished by all who knew them.

And they, in return, loved them just as much.

It is no wonder the Great Seven became the Great Eight in homage to the Prefect and those who lived in Ramshackle Dorm.

A statue of three ghosts, a chimera, and a hooded figure made of marble commemorates the newly established dorm at the Main Street of NRC.

Now you may wonder, what does this dorm represent?

It is based on the spirit of the Prefect of Legend, the one known to tame even the mightiest.

The Ramshackle Dorm is for those who do not belong. Those who have the potential for greatness beyond any normal means.

Now take the hand before you, for you have been chosen.

"What's this?"

You pull a dusty box from the back of one of Idia's shelves.

"...Huh?"

He glances over from his computer.

Then his eyes widen.

"...No way."

You brush the dust off.

Inside is a small, worn handheld console.

The corners are scratched.

The buttons are faded.

Tiny stickers are peeling from the back.

You smile.

"Is this yours?"

Idia slowly walks over.

"...Yeah."

"You never told me you still had it."

"I... thought I lost it years ago."

You hand it to him.

He turns it over carefully, almost afraid it might fall apart.

"...This thing survived?"

You notice how gently his thumb brushes over the cracked shell.

"It was your first console?"

"...The first one I could call my own."

His voice is quieter now.

"I saved up forever for it."

A small laugh escapes him.

"I used to hide under the blankets at night and play until Ortho caught me."

"He told on you?"

"No."

Idia smiles.

"He'd just crawl under the blanket too."

You can't help smiling with him.

"What did you two play?"

"Oh..."

His eyes soften.

"Everything."

"Racing games."

"Monster games."

"Puzzle games."

"...Anything that had co-op."

For a moment, neither of you speaks.

...

You press the power button.

Nothing.

"...Dead?" you ask.

Idia nods.

"Battery's probably gone... or something inside finally gave up."

You frown.

"That's a shame."

He smiles softly, still turning the little console over in his hands.

"Not really."

"Hm?"

"It already did what it was supposed to do."

"It gave me years of memories."

You glance at him.

"...Besides."

A small grin appears on his face.

"I can probably repair it."

"You can?"

"You underestimate how attached gamers get to old hardware."

You laugh.

"So there's hope?"

"For the console?"

He shrugs.

"Maybe."

Then he smiles at you.

"But even if I can't fix it..."