#this was very fun to write and I may return to it

[vasito-de-leche]

I'm so excited you're interested in kpop demon hunters! Could you possibly write some headcanons for Mira (romantic or just general analysis, whatever works best for you!)

;KPOP DEMON HUNTERS MIRA - General Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons and analysis on Mira and other related things.

anon you dont knwo how much i adore mira shes literally just like me fr shes the moment shes the love of my life shes SOOOOOOO good!!! head in hands kicks my feet starts screaming incoherently oh my god okay

I went with general headcanons so I could start setting the ground for some future posts about her and the rest of the huntrix! feel free to send another ask if you want those relationship headcanons!

On the subject of family and Mira's role within Huntrix.

The movie clearly states that Mira is the visual and lead dancer, so that's not what I'll be tackling in this point--instead it's about the role she fills in her dynamic with Rumi and Zoey, her current family.

The three of them contrast and compliment each other very well, and we can see that they're united by themes of belonging; all three have struggled with finding a place or people that will accept them wholeheartedly, and even after finding each other continue to deal with the consequences of the way they were raised.

While we get the full context of Rumi's background, we don't get that privilege with Mira and Zoey--these two have only one or two moments in which their respective backgrounds are addressed, and most of the time they're left up for interpretation. In Zoey's case, it's a single moment in their Golden music video, which might imply that she's a child of divorce (explaining why she grew up in Burbank and later returned to Korea).

And when it comes to Mira, we get two family pictures and her part in "Golden," which references the very same family picture from the very beginning. She's wearing similar clothes as her family pictures and the dancers from the "Golden" music video are obviously there to represent her family.

We can gleam out a few details about this. She has an older brother, a father and a mother, all three wearing muted and more commonly "acceptable" outfits. The most standard family one could think of.

A fun way I like to interpret these two initial portraits is the way Mira is positioned; in her younger portrait she's sitting on a tall chair, taller than her brother, dressing in a proper and sensible outfit that was most likely picked for her if her expression and body language is anything to go by. Almost as if presenting her as a prop, the idea of what a good child should look like.

Compare this to the second picture; the stark white of her shirt sets her apart right away, and she's still sitting, only this time she's doing it by her own terms and now there's no one to prop her up like a doll. Instead, she's lower than her entire family, a visual metaphor for how they may have treated her as "the black sheep" the second she strayed away from their standards.

I like to headcanon that she's no longer in contact with any of them, and that neither party has made any real attempts at reaching out to the other. This isn't to say that she's fully moved on from her family and their influence, but she strikes me as someone who's fought so hard to love herself despite everything that she simply won't allow anyone to trample her identity. I can absolutely see at least someone from her biological family trying, if only once or twice, just to see if she's "calmed down enough to come back." Or looking her up online to see what she's up to.

From reading various interviews involving the directors, Maggie Kang and Chris Appelhans, one of the themes they wanted to portray in the movie was the duality of women--their elegance and power, but also their flaws and less picture perfect lives, hence the silly and goofy moments but also Hunters' song focusing on hiding ones flaws, leading to repression.

We see the pressure of expectation and tradition wear all of Huntrix down in various ways and, in Mira's case, it manifested as her doubling down on the things that set her apart, a confidence to be herself no matter what--at the cost of pushing others away because of said confidence and her "jagged edges."

But when Gwi-ma's voice reaches Mira, the one thing that causes her to fully break away from Huntrix is the concept of family; the idea that she doesn't deserve one.

This alone should speak volumes about how at her core, regardless of the confidence Mira displays to be able to live her truth, she's still someone who wants to be understood and accepted. She's still human.

The way Mira speaks is monotone and flat, the way she presents herself is sharp and aggressive, but she's the first one to notice Rumi's secrets. In her words, she's "an expert at reading people," and I like to attribute this to her upbringing--it becomes very easy to know what others are feeling or thinking when you're often the focus of so much negative attention, when you have no choice but to accept that you will always be on the spotlight simply by being different.

What makes Mira and Zoey raise their weapons at Rumi after she's revealed to have patterns is not the fact that she's a demon, but the fact that she's lied to them for so long. To me, this goes hand in hand with the way Rumi argues with Mira, by bringing up "her insecurities," because the concept of a found family matters so much to Mira.

It's very easy to chalk down Mira as the cool, edgy and aloof of the trio, but the movie makes sure to emphasize that these girls are more than the superficial roles they've been assigned--both as idols and as hunters. Within Huntrix, I like to see Mira as the one who brings up the harder topics, the conversations no one wants to have, to say the things everyone is afraid to say because someone has to do it. Not out of malice, but a genuine care for Rumi and Zoey, and the Huntrix as a band.

On the subject of Celine and becoming a hunter.

I'm prefacing this by saying that I do not like or agree with any portrayals of Celine as a one-dimensional, horrible mother to Rumi.

I believe that is a massive disservice to another theme the story is trying to tell about how trauma leads people to pass on harmful mindsets to their loved ones, and how those future generations might be the ones forced to break the cycle of violence to heal. The problem wasn't Celine, but the pressure ALL hunters had to live through concealing their flaws for the greater good.

So if you dislike Celine as a whole, please feel free to skip this section!

Celine gives little information about hunters as a whole, only mentioning that in each generation, three women are chosen to protect the Honmoon--we know that Rumi was pretty much expected to follow this path, since Huntrix was BUILT around her because of the promise Celine made to her mother.

But as far as I know, there's no information on why or how Mira and Zoey became hunters as well. So it's free real estate until details come out, if they ever do!

I feel it makes sense to have Huntrix be formed like any other K-Pop group, with a bunch of trainees and a handful just making it to their debut and whatnot? But it feels too impersonal just like that. I'd assume that Celine, as the only active Sunshine Sister we know of, would at least have a hand in the process to veto or check over potential candidates to work with Rumi.

Not just as a mentor and prominent figure in the industry, but as a mother trying to find girls that her adoptive daughter could connect with--this is based on her relationship with Rumi's biological mother, and how Celine cared so much for a fellow Sunshine Sister that she went on to raise Rumi, EVEN with all the biases she holds towards demons. If there was such little regard for Rumi, if her biases towards demons had truly won, Rumi wouldn't even be here in the first place.

There is an emphasis on harmony for the hunters that can't be ignored and as a seasoned hunter I believe Celine knows this and could've been the one to pick Zoey and Mira from the other trainees to join Huntrix, because she saw that very same loneliness Rumi carries in them. There is also the way Mira and Zoey perfectly mimic Celine's usual hunter speech, and how they immediately know that seeking her for help is not an option. So she's clearly been around enough.

When it comes to their relationship with Celine, I think Celine doesn't necessarily have to be a mother figure for neither Mira or Zoey, but a strong figure in their lives that they respect, since it's thanks to her that the three were able to meet.

This isn't to say that Celine paved the way for Zoey and Mira to be successful without putting in the work. I like to headcanon that Mira specifically came from a dancing career and naturally switched to music along the way, on one hand because this is something that she loves and on the other because it's the very same careers that were considered too outlandish for a girl like her, according to her families.

I also imagine that the news about ... Hunters and the concept of killing demons and all would have to be brought up relatively soon, at least prior to their debut for sure.

It's very fun to imagine that Celine herself trained all of them to fight, helping them once their unique weapons developed and whatnot, since the first trio of hunters had an entirely different set than Huntrix. This is an entirely new train of thought, but I really like how Huntrix's weapons match them; in Mira's case, she's the tallest and lankiest member, so she gets a tall and lanky weapon to match. It's just very cute to me.

Batch of headcanons I couldn't fit anywhere else.

Contrary to popular belief, Mira was the least bothered by Rumi's secrecy and need for accomodation (we see near the beginning of the movie that Rumi has her own separate dressing room to conceal her patterns). Out of everyone, Mira understands the need to have privacy the most. I saw in one interview that one of Mira's voice actresses believes Mira is way more patient that she lets on, and I agree!

She's bisexual, but hasn't come out to anyone but Huntrix. Not out of shame, but because she's a naturally private person when it comes to her personal life. This contrasts Zoey who is out, loud and proud as a way to make her fans feel seen and is known to oversharing on social media. And then you have Rumi who keeps skirting around the topic because of her repression issues.

Mira is the type of person who binges asian dramas, and she will ramble about the latest episodes to Rumi and Zoey over dinner. She also knows exactly which ones to recommend to people that will make them bawl their eyes out with how crazy good she is at reading others. I like to think at some point she gets the chance to star in one of her favorite shows for a minor role.

[shoot-i-messed-up]

Was always worried about the angst of unrequited love, had never realized the sheer amount of comedic potential that it has.

Imagine one-sided Superbat where Clark is fully aware that Bruce has a crush on him but is being his repressed self about it, and Clark is just like, “I’m not gonna touch that :) you’re going to figure that out for yourself, buddy, and in the meantime, I’m just going to have a good time and be best friends with you as you inevitably pull yourself together enough to either fall out of love or to confess :) and I’ll just let you down gently because I care about you :)” but he absolutely 100% is using it to his advantage in the meantime. His puppy dog eyes had never been so effective before. He’s gotten out of Monitor Duty three times in the past month.

[queer-omens-in-the-archives]

Have you noticed your style change over time?

Hi!! Thank you for the ask. <3

We haven't really noticed that, no -- we're aware our older fics don't read quite the same as our more recent ones, but we don't tend to notice the changes happening in real time and would struggle to pinpoint exactly what changed.

Part of that is plurality-related. We don't all write the same to begin with -- actually part of our editing process now, especially for longer projects, consists of getting as many of us rereading the text as possible (separately over a period of time and/or together at the same time), so we can smooth out differences where needed or (more rarely) exaggerate them when warranted (e.g. for added character flavour in subjective narration). In the past we didn't go through that Collaborative Smoothening step, and we did a lot less editing to begin with (we same-day wrote-and-published a lot), so many of our older works are more clearly One Guy's Writing. We can usually tell who based on the way they're written, but this isn't style evolution so much as like... us writing differently at baseline.

Part of that is that we have two types of approach to writing: either we write so rarely that too much time passes in-between for us to remember our previous writings clearly, or we write so often that any overall changes are too gradual for us to notice. Nowadays it's more the latter -- with the MelloNears, we've been writing/editing at least a few words every single day since November 1st, in mostly the same two AUs/series, so we're not really seeing the style evolution that is probably taking place because we're standing too close to see the big picture.

[fanfic/author ask game]

[theflyingfeeling]

...😭

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 308

Adjective: Kind

Noun: Crow

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Kind: having or showing a friendly, generous, and considerate nature; used in a polite request; (of a consumer product) gentle on (a part of the body); (archaic) affectionate or loving

Crow: a large bird with mostly glossy black plumage, a heavy bill, and a raucous voice; (derogatory) a woman, especially an old or ugly one; the constellation Corvus; the cry of a rooster; a sound made by a person expressing triumph or happiness; a member of a North American people inhabiting eastern Montana; the Siouan language of the Crow

[wardingshout]

hey guys have you ever heard about the game Star Stealing Prince? <- that's a rly cool link

sweet dreams and not so sweet dreams

[aeyumicore]

one year older - caleb 夏以昼

you’ve been completely occupied during the week of caleb’s birthday—leaving caleb needy and jealous. he intends to make up for every lost moment. a birthday special for our dearest caleb. inspired by but NOT based on ‘no-return night.’ it will not follow the same plot or dialogue.

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: caleb x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with very little plot, porn with feelings

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 6.9k

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, flirtatious use of ‘gege,’ drunk!caleb, jealous!caleb, possessive!caleb, mentions of alcohol consumption, oral sex m! and f!receiving, sex on the floor, unprotected sex, swallowing, tiddy sucking, possessive behavior, cum marking kinda, gideon is mentioned a lot, caleb is pouty and sulky, squirting, multiple orgasms, lots of petnames, no use of y/n

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: ao3 | original inspo | shot, shot, shot, shot! fic

━ ✧.˖ A/N: this is kinda caleb’s version of shot, shot, shot, shot! in which he is drunk and jealous and inspired by that one clip of that drunk asian guy drinking water. i may end up writing his own dedicated version—unsure as of now since this one basically is that + birthday twist.

again, inspired by but NOT based on ‘no-return night.’ it will not follow the same plot or dialogue.

happy birthday to our dearest xia yizhou. you are so unbelievably loved. i hope everyone’s been having fun celebrating caleb’s birthday! i will be pulling for no-return night tomorrow, wish me luck <3

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

[17:31] Brat: i can’t come over tonight :-( gideon needed help picking ur gift. i’m sorry, ill see you tmw birthday boy! <3

Caleb sighs, typing a quick response—thumbs flying across the screen. Amidst the privacy of his Fleet office, he doesn’t bother to hide the disappointment or simmering jealousy from his breathy exhale. 

[17:33] Caleb: Again? I’ve barely seen you this week :(

You’d come to Skyhaven, taking a whole week off, to spend his birthday with him. His first birthday since everything had become so complicated. 

And Caleb was used to sharing his birthday. Growing up, he’d always found himself throwing joint birthday parties or forgoing his birthday altogether for summer sports events. 

But it was different now. Spending nearly an entire year playing dead—living without you, altered his view on life. He wanted every milestone, every birthday, every little thing someone could have to look forward to. 

And he wanted it with you. 

Caleb’s jaw ticks dangerously when you don’t respond, pocketing his phone and turning back to the mission reports on his desk. 

But he finds concentration elusive, too distracted by the irrational possessiveness bubbling inside of him. Swearing, he pulls his phone back out. 

Nothing. 

His chest aches with an emptiness that can only be attributed to your absence. The same dull throb he feels when he can’t touch you—when you’re not in his field of vision. Which, lately, seemed more often than not.

Even for his birthday week in Skyhaven it seemed like Gideon got your attention more than he did. He knew the two of you were friends. Beyond the silly nostalgic times the three of you had shared during his time at Skyhaven University and Aerospace Academy, Gideon had been there for you during the hardest time of your life. 

Fucking Gideon.

Caleb sulks childishly to himself. The logical part of him knew that the two of you were probably meeting up to scheme something for his birthday. He trusted Gideon with his life, which wasn’t something he could say about many people these days. 

He shouldn’t be jealous. Rationally, he knew that.

But, when it came to you, he tended to be anything but rational.

“Colonel? Sir?”

An unexpected voice cuts him out of his thoughts. He pockets his phone, quickly masking his expression. The pout he didn’t even realize he wore slides off, replaced by the calculated and authoritative Colonel’s mask. He snaps without even realizing it—much harsher and sharper than he normally was with his subordinates.

“What?!”

The lieutenant standing on the other side of the desk gulps nervously, bowing his head respectfully. In less than a fraction of a second, Caleb collects himself.

“Apologies. What do you need, Lieutenant?”

God, he could use a drink. 

–

You adjust the string of twinkling lights you’d strung up on the couch in Caleb’s living room. Biting your lip, you fluff up the adorable apple shaped plushie that sat on the furniture. 

Spinning around, you take one last quick once over of the space.

The countless wrapped presents you’d gotten for him were tastefully scattered about, the projector set up against the wall just how you wanted it, every balloon meticulously placed. His living room, albeit much homier now that you’d basically taken over his life like a tornado, was normally still a bit bare. But now, it looked like something out of a dream.

Perfect.

It was the first birthday you’d be celebrating with Caleb ever since the explosion. Now that things were finally somewhat settling down into a comfortable routine, you wanted to show Caleb just how much you’d missed him—cherished him. Starting with his birthday. 

The first of a lifetime of birthdays you would share together. You’d make sure of that. 

Your phone buzzes with a text, the screen lighting up with Gideon’s contact.

[8:15 PM] Gid: Let me know how Xia reacts! Good luck.

[8:15 PM] Me: i will! thank u for helping me set up again gideon!!

Your heart clenches as you catch the unread text message from the birthday boy himself. You’d been so excited to get the house ready that you’d completely forgotten to text him back. 

Just as you’re typing out a response, you hear the familiar sound of the front door clicking unlocked. Eyes widening, you set your phone down, carefully picking up the birthday cake you’d made and positioning yourself in the entry way that connects to the foyer.

Seconds tick by, the faint sound of fumbling making you set the cake down on the console table in a mix of confusion and worry. As you’re about to reach for the handle, the door pushes open—revealing Caleb.

In the dim entryway you don’t see how slightly disheveled he is, a flush creeping up his neck. You probably wouldn’t have seen it even if the light had been flipped on, far too excited to see him. To celebrate him. 

“Happy birthday, Caleb!” you squeal, all but forgetting the uncharacteristic fumbling, bounding up to him and wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and launching yourself into his arms.

Caleb grunts in surprise, completely taken aback but catching you by your waist all the same. His lengthy fingers spread to grip you tightly, securing you against his solid body. You’re so caught up in your excitement that you miss the odd way Caleb stumbles a step backward as he catches you.

“Well, early birthday,” you giggle, glancing at the clock. 

8:37 PM. You hadn’t even noticed how late it’d gotten. You crinkle your brows slightly, wondering how Caleb hadn’t caught you in your little scheme. You were well behind schedule, considering Caleb always got home at 7:30 on the dot with his military-disciplined punctuality. 

“I didn’t think I’d be seeing you,” Caleb murmurs into the top of your head, taking a deep inhale of your scent. 

You laugh into his chest, the smooth leather of his uniform digging into your cheek. You sigh happily as his hands wander up, wrapping his arms around you entirely. The entire elaborate birthday surprise is briefly forgotten as you sink into his hold, missing him terribly after not seeing him much this week as you ran around scheming.

“Smell so damn good,” Caleb’s voice is so muffled, his breath warm against your scalp. With his words obscured against your hair, you can’t hear his slight slur.

Taking a small step backward, you peer up at him. Your knuckles brush gently across his cheek, grinning as he adorably leans into your touch.

”How was work? You feeling okay?”

Caleb bends down to brush his lips against your temple, “I am now.” 

Your chest constricts, knowing you’d barely had time with him this week. Remembering why you’d had to avoid him all week, you eagerly tug him along to the living room that casts twinkling lights down the hallway like an absolute dream world. Caleb stumbles behind you, letting you pull him along.  

Just as you’re almost in sight of the surprise you’d set up, you stop in your tracks.

”Wait, wait!” You run behind him, tiptoeing up to cover his eyes with your hands, his skin hot and flushed against your palms. Distracted by your excitement, you push him along with your hands covering his eyes like a blindfold. 

Tripping against his heels due to the height difference, you whine and retract your hands, “Okay this isn't working. Close your eyes!”

Caleb chuckles breathily and complies, his violet eyes shutting, “Of course, pip-squeak.”

Once you’re sure his eyes are closed, waving your hands in front of him for good measure, you guide him the rest of the way into the once depressing living room, now a cozy paradise for just the two of you.

“Okay, open!”

Caleb’s eyes flutter open, hazy with a distinct sluggish fog that you’ve yet to fully notice. The mist clears in an instant as he takes in the scene before him.

His throat tightens at the transformation the Skyhaven house undergone. The only memories he used to have in this room were the gray storm clouds that floated just outside the floor to ceiling windows when he’d jolt awake from nightmares, covered in a cold sheen of sweat. 

Until you came back into his life.

Now, only the most pleasant memories remain. Takeout on the coffee table as you fed him dumplings cross legged on the carpet, him drying your hair as you sat in front of the glass panes watching jets fly by, you curled against his chest on the couch as movies played into the night.

The same couch that was now covered in balloons, fairy lights, and perfectly wrapped presents.  

Without a word, Caleb pulls you flush against his body, your back pressed firmly into his chest and his bicep wrapped securely around your shoulders. You burst into a fit of laughter as he buries his face into shoulder, nuzzling his nose into the side of your face. You hold onto his arm that’s around your chest, enjoying the way he leans into you. 

“So this is what you were up to, hm?” His breath is warm as it tickles you, his skin hot even under the thick layers of his uniform. 

“Yes,” you grin mischievously before turning to him with a question of your own, “What about you? You’re home late today.” 

Now facing him, the warm glow from dozens of twinkling fairy lights illuminating his handsome face, you notice how red Caleb is. 

His bright eyes finally flicker down, distracted by the picturesque scene behind you. His thumb brushes across your bottom lip, a familiar hungry glint in his violet eyes. Before wasting another second, he crashes his lips to yours and devours you like a man starved.

You moan as he gently demands entry—wanting more. His fingers hold you possessively, one gripping your hair and the other holding your chin as his tongue makes up for every minute he didn’t get to hold you this week.

But as you lose yourself in the kiss, the faint taste of alcohol snaps you back to the present. The flushed and clammy skin, the stumbling, the slight slur.

Pulling away, you take his face into your hands and look into his starry eyes,

“Caleb Xia, are you drunk?!”

Caleb blinks at you slowly, the tips of his ears pinkening at being caught red-handed. 

“No, are you?”

You burst out laughing as his eyes try their best to focus on you, “You are!”

Caleb grins crookedly at you, “No. I’m—hicc—Caleb.”

You roll your eyes at his ill-timed hiccup, dragging him to the couch and gently pushing him down onto it. He flops onto it unceremoniously, his arm resting atop one of the apple cushions and his thighs spread wide to let you stand between them. With his other hand, he loosens his tie, his Adam’s apple bobbing thickly under his uniform. 

You can’t help but dig your teeth into your lip at how unfairly attractive he’s always been, especially in a tie. The way he loosened it—the way he looked up at you with molten desire and longing flooding his features, nearly made your knees buckle under your own weight. 

“Wait here, dummy,” you brush his hair out of his eyes before turning away from him, intending to grab some water from the kitchen. 

Caleb’s fingers close clumsily around your wrist, yanking you back to face him. 

”Stay.”

He looks up at you with expectant eyes, his voice coming out soft and breathless. The plea is vulnerable as it is demanding.

”Spend my birthday with me.”

You smile reassuringly at him, stepping back toward him to press a tender kiss to his parted lips, the alcohol still lingering on his tongue.

”I’m just going to get you some water, okay? I’m not going anywhere. It’s your birthday—you get anything you want.” 

Caleb groans, almost a guttural growl, “Fuck. Don’t say things like that. N-Not when I’m like this.” 

The heat in his voice is undeniable, making your skin crawl with burning anticipation. 

“Water first,” you croak, “Then, whatever the birthday boy wants.” 

The drunken colonel pouts with distaste but lets you slip your wrist out of his grasp. Before you change your mind, you quickly make your way to the kitchen and grab a glass out of the cupboard and fill it with cool filtered water.

When you get back to the couch, Caleb looks considerably more inebriated as he plays with the silver tag of his necklace, dangling it in front of his face. When he sees you, his eyes light up and a lopsided grin appears on his face. ”Finally,” he slurs, reaching out for you, “Missed you,”

You roll your eyes, letting him hook his arm around your waist, yanking you to him, “I was gone for like two minutes.”

Caleb’s eyes scrunch as he pulls you back into the space between his legs, both arms looping around you.

”Two minutes too—hicc—long.”

Biting your chuckle back, you take his jaw into your fingers and tilt his face up at you, bringing the water to his lips, “Open up,”

Caleb’s eyes shine with mischief, “Kiss first.”

This time your laugh escapes, amused and utterly infatuated with his adorable demands. You argue, “Water first so I can sober you up. Then you can have as many kisses as you’d like.”

Caleb grumbles unhappily but obeys, his lips parting slightly and looking up at you expectantly. His breath is warm against your skin as you raise the glass back to his mouth, gently guiding his chin with your fingers.

As he drinks, you gently stroke his burning skin with your thumb. Despite protesting, he gulps the water down hungrily. 

But his sight is entirely trained onto you and not the cup, eyes flickering down the curves of your bare shoulder. In his heated appreciation, rivulets of cold liquid dribble down his chin, dripping tantalizingly down the bulge of his neck.

His thick eyelashes flutter back up, violet eyes meeting yours with unspoken heat and longing—compounded by the amount of times someone else had taken you from him this week.

With his face tilted up, drinking greedily from your hands, eyes wide and locked onto you with both appreciation and desperation, he looks unbelievably vulnerable. His thick arms still lock around your waist, refusing to let you go.

You swear you could stand there for an eternity just counting each of his long thick eyelashes as he looked up at you like his entire world revolved around you. 

When he finishes, you twist around to set the glass on the coffee table behind you. 

“So—”

You don’t get another word out before Caleb is pulling you down onto his lap and recapturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His touch is territorial and demanding, large palm cupping the small of your back, maneuvering you until you’re straddling him. His skin, damp from the spilt water, clings to yours as he picks up where he’d left off. His other hand squeezes the nape of your neck, leaving no room for escape.

The faint remnants of alcohol still linger on his tongue, but he tastes so distinctly Caleb that you can’t help but whimper and reciprocate with everything you have. His unrelenting hold makes you squirm, readjusting yourself more comfortably on his lap. 

Caleb curses, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs, trying to keep you still while he begs into your lips, “Jesus princess, please stop moving like that.”

“Are you going to tell me why you’re drunk?” you counter, murmuring into his lips when he’s forced to let you go so he can hiccup. 

Caleb kisses down your jaw until his breath is at your ear, “Went to get drinks with Liam.” 

Your eyes widen in pleasant surprise, “Liam? But you guys don’t usually—”

“I thought that I wouldn’t see you ‘til tomorrow. Needed a distraction. So Liam offered,” he grumbles, sulking, “Gideon’s been taking all your time.”

Your heart throbs at his words. 

He didn’t want to be alone. 

“Gideon’s just been helping me plan and set up. Since he’s more familiar with Skyhaven than I am.”

Caleb’s eyes narrow at you, an adorable pout playing on his lips, words still slurred, ”Don’t tell me Gideon is going to pop out from behind the couch.” 

Grinning, you shake your head, “Nope. It’s just us tonight.”

His thumb brushes across your bottom lip, a familiar hungry glint in his violet eyes. 

“Good.”

With his lips still at the hollow of your neck, his lips latch gently onto your skin, sucking a blossoming red mark right where he was sure people would see. 

“He told me to—ngh—tell you hah-happy birthday though.” 

Caleb only grunts in response, face buried in your neck and fingers crawling up your thighs, playing with the lace seam of your panties.

“Also, Gideon is coming over tomorrow to—“ 

Caleb’s chest rumbles with a growl, his teeth nipping the forming hickey in warning, which elicits a yelp from you, “Say his name one more time, see what happens.” 

You giggle at his ridiculousness, “Colonel Xia, you’re so demanding when you’re drunk.”

Caleb grips your chin roughly, forcing you to level with him, “You want to see demanding, pip-squeak?”

His voice is gravelly and completely serious, making your knees buckle, even as you straddled him. You’d almost think you were the one who was drunk.

“Demanding is what I should’ve been when someone else was stealing you away from me all week.”

His fingers tauntingly trace your jaw, eyes dilated as they drink in every morsel of your increasingly heavy breath.

“Demanding is when I remind you that I’m not a man who shares, not what’s mine.”

The heat that radiates off his body is palpable, the aura of drunken jealousy-fueled dominance and possession dripping off of him. It makes your core ache.

“Demanding is this,” Caleb takes your wrist into his hand, bringing it to the space between your bodies. He closes your finger over something warm, hard, and throbbing under his slacks. 

Your breath catches in your throat as Caleb looks at you, his eyes darkened to a near indigo. His own breaths accelerate considerably with his bulge in your delicate hands, forcing himself not to thrust into your fingers.  

“So?” he rasps, “Are you going to take responsibility for this?”

You gulp, tearing your eyes away from the way he strains against the confines of his pants, absolutely tented and bricked up. 

“Anything you want. It’s your birthday.” 

Caleb swears quietly, chest heaving as he watches your eyes flutter at him—seeing how utterly serious you are about serving him. 

“On the floor then,” he croaks, fingers softening their hold on you so you can climb off his lap and onto the floor before him, right between his open thighs.

“Get on your knees for gege.”

The carpet is rough against your skin as you kneel before him, carefully undoing his belt and freeing his throbbing erection. As it springs free, nearly hitting you in the face, you press his burning wet skin into your palm. 

Caleb groans as soon as you touch him, hips bucking off the couch involuntarily. He pants for air, unbearably sensitive from not only the alcohol, but from the simmering ache of jealousy that still lurks beneath his skin. 

You give him a few firm pumps, mesmerized as your fingers catch pearly drops of his copious arousal. He was so pent up—leaking so much need—that you’d think he’d already cum.

“Fuck—take me in your mouth,” Caleb commands, guiding you just how he liked it. You giggle at his demands, darting your tongue out to catch the beads of precum making its way down his thick shaft. 

Caleb groans, his fingers digging into the soft apple cushion, “God—that fucking tongue…”

When you finally sink him into the warm wet recesses of your mouth, Caleb threads his fingers into your hair, gripping tightly. 

“More,” he croaks—your name spilling from his lips like a prayer, stroking your scalp, “Need more.”

You hum, slowly taking him deeper into your mouth and eventually your throat. Caleb unconsciously thrusts into you, unable to control himself when you take him this well, this obediently.

“Jesus, baby,” he grunts, his restraint hanging on by a thread, “The things you do to me…”

His chest heaves as you take him fully, your lips pressed against his pelvis. You can feel your panties becoming increasingly wet as he praises you. Wanting to hear more, more of his addicting noises, more of his filthy praises, you progressively go faster. Exactly how he liked it.

“F-Fuck—fuck!” Caleb throws his head back with his slurred cries of ecstasy, “Need to flood that perfect fucking throat.”

Whining, your enthusiasm soars, the prospect of his finish fueling your own excitement. Your tongue teases the throbbing vein that crawls up the underside of his girth, knowing how insane it always drives him. 

Caleb’s pushing your head down now, his pleasure bursting the dam of restraint.

”Hah—close, princess,” he looks down at you with pleading hooded eyes, his cheeks red with both the flush of alcohol and the pleasure of your wicked tongue. 

“Look at me.”

If it was one thing Caleb loved, it was making you look into his eyes as he filled you. 

He lifts your chin just slightly, throbbing as you peer up at him through your wet eyelashes. 

“God—you’re so damn beautiful. All fucking mine.” 

At the sight of your teary eyes fluttering up at him, cheeks hollow as you devoured him, lips puffy and kiss bitten, Caleb explodes without a further warning. He coats every inch of your mouth, your throat, with himself. 

You do your best to take every single drop, but it inevitably dribbles down your lips as you choke lightly. 

“Swallow,” Caleb rasps, animalistic hunger dripping from his words. His thumb presses into your bottom lip, collecting rivulets that had escaped and popping his finger into your mouth, “All of it.” 

Even without his demand, you would’ve done just that. With your eyes never leaving his, you dramatically gulp, letting your tongue caress his digit as you pull yourself off.

As soon as your lips leave him, he’s hoisting you up by your waist, throwing you under his body and onto the plush couch. He hovers above you, using his knee to part your thighs, nearly coming in contact with your soaking panties.

“So fucking good for me. My good girl.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to speak, his lips coming down to claim yours. You gasp as his tongue invades your mouth, giving him easy access to you. You’re still salty with the taste of his own finish, yet so unbearably sweet with your own unique taste, only making him more eager. Feverish. Frenzied. 

His hands are everywhere, under your skirt, in your hair, gripping your chin. Every moan, every whimper—he consumes with desperation bordering on insanity. 

Too lost in the passion of his lips, you hardly notice when the two of you roll off the couch. You can vaguely hear the clatter of something falling, feeling Caleb’s hand move against the back of your head and tailbone—shielding you from the impact. 

“Oops,” Caleb grins, lips puffy, still hovering above you, “Got carried away.”

Laughing, your fingers reach up to take his face into your hands. He leans into your touch, turning his face so he can brush a wet kiss into your palm. The floor is hard against your back, the carpet giving you rugburn, but with Caleb above you, it feels perfect. 

“How are you feeling now?” 

Caleb’s eyes hungrily trail down your body, perfectly pinned under his. His eyes darken, hooded with desire that’d hardly been quelled. 

His voice is a gravelly slur, “Feel like…unwrapping some presents.”

Your heart races as his fingers snake up your arm, finding the black straps of your dress. 

“Caleb…”

With one gentle tug, he unravels the neatly tied ribbons on your shoulders. His throat bobs hungrily as he takes you in, fingers tracing heated paths down your skin while he pulls the bodice of your dress down slightly to expose more of you to his ravenous eyes.

“You wrapped yourself up so beautifully for me,” he swears under his breath when he unveils your intricate lingerie, your nipple visible just beneath the lace.

“Fuck.”

He can’t stop himself from dipping down, capturing your breast even through the sheer fabric of your bra. 

“Caleb–w-wait!” you cry, not convincing even yourself. Your eyes roll heavenward, arching into his hot demanding tongue even through the uncomfortably feeling of wet fabric.

He nips playfully at your sensitive peaks, looking up at you through his eyelashes, eyebrows hooded with hunger. 

His breath is so hot it makes you writhe with need as he speaks into your skin, “Wait for what, princess? I’ve been waiting all week.”

You chuckle breathily before peeling into a pleasured squeal when he bites down, gently but firmly, “F-Fine. Only because it’s your—mmngh—birthday!”

Caleb chuckles darkly, releasing your other nipple with a wet pop, “Are you sure about that, sweets?”

He makes a show of raising the skirt of your dress, the rug fibers tickling your thighs. Drinking in each and every one of your delicious mewls, he smirks, “If I recall correctly, you’re always good at taking orders from your Colonel.”

You’re about to retort, fiery sass on the tip of your tongue, when Caleb flicks your swollen clit—precise and intentional. Your cry is sharp as it is pleasured, your fingernails digging painfully into the carpet, thighs closing against Caleb's solid body. 

“Caleb!”

He grins, “Yeah, baby?”

“You know what—ngh fuck!” You’re cut off again when he lowers his head to lick a hot wet stripe down your slit, all the way to your throbbing clit, right through the fabric of the lace panties.

“Fuuuck, did you get this wet just from sucking gege’s cock?” he groans, breath hot against your trembling sensitive lips, “You spoil me.” 

As soon as the pleasure comes, it disappears, Caleb withdrawing with a crazed look of mischief in his galaxy eyes. 

“Say it.”

You whine, your hips bucking up—instinctively chasing Caleb’s touch. He pushes you back down, his palm flat against your stomach and lips latched into the soft skin of your inner thigh. So close to where you need him most.

“Say it.”

Caleb is drunk off something entirely different now, making little to no sense as his tongue darts out to sample you again. 

“F-Fuck—say what?! What do you want me to—mmngh—say?”

He lifts your ruined panties to the side, eyes dilated with pure hunger. Unable to stop himself, even when he wants to tease you, he leans back in. His tongue parts your lips, teasing your entrance. 

Words vibrating into your soul, he grunts, “Say you only take orders from me.” 

Deciding to give in, lest he take away the pleasure just as it began, you sit up on your elbows, “Only you Caleb. Only ever t-take orders from my gege.” 

Caleb’s fingers tighten around your thighs, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the weight of his desperate breaths. His eyes, delirious with hunger, lock onto yours as he leans back on—fully ready to devour you now. 

“And you look so damn perfect doing it.” 

You fall backward as Caleb tugs you forward, lifting you until your pussy was level with him as he sat up. You’re surprised when your head hits a soft apple plush, gut fluttering as you realize Caleb had used his Evol to position the pillow when he’d yanked you towards him.

He was always thinking of you—protecting you.

Just as your skull thumps gently into the cushion, he buries himself in you, so eagerly that his teeth nearly knock into your fevered skin. He’d spent so many hours which his tongue nestled inside you that he could practically draft blueprints on exactly how you liked it. 

Slow. Attentive. Devoted.

And Caleb was always an over-achiever.

With you stretched out on his tongue, his nose brushing insistently into your hardened clit, he shows you the utmost reverence, worshiping you like the absolute perfection you were.

“O-Oh god Caaleb—! Just like that. Please don’t stop.”

He grunts in approval, letting his deep voice vibrate against your quivering skin. Diligently coaxing your orgasm from you, Caleb inserts one of his skilled fingers. Then two. 

“Never going to stop,” he moans into your core, “That’s what I want for my birthday. To be inside of you forever.”

You whine at his words, his fingers easily finding your soft g-pot, “W-Want that too. Hah—please, gege.”

Caleb nearly snarls at your breathy words, fingers digging into your skin.

“That’s my fucking girl,” he growls into you, coaxing you deliberately, “You know exactly who you belong to, hm?”

You whimper, nodding eagerly as he purposely drags his nose against you. Caleb nearly goes feral at your intoxicating scent, needing your orgasm more than he needs his next breath.

“Cum for me, baby,” he murmurs, voice deep and velvety, “It’s my birthday, right? Show me how much you need me.” 

His lips gently close over your aching nub, sucking hard. Your eyes widen when the pads of his fingertips, deep inside you, stroke demandingly against your most sensitive parts, all but ensuring your heavenly downfall.  

Back arching deeply, the end of your spine digging painfully into the hard floor, your body gives him the thing he’d wanted above anything else, any other gift. 

“Nnngh—feels so fucking good. I-I can’t—no more!…Cumming!” 

Caleb’s chest rumbles as his tongue skillfully catches every drop of your climax, holding your thighs firmly as they quake uncontrollably against him. 

You’re a whimpering mess, never quite able to get used to just how devotedly he tends to you. Your chest heaves as Caleb sets you back down, wiping his shiny lips with the back of his hand. 

“Thank you, princess.”

Vision blurry, you sit up on shaky arms to watch him. He fists his cock slowly, already hard and wanting again.

“You did not just thank me for sex,” you laugh breathlessly, making a face at him. 

Caleb grins, gently pinning you back to the floor. One hand restrains both of yours while the other tilts your chin up at him. 

“Think of it as…thanking you for the best gift I’ve ever received.”

Caleb carefully chooses his words, fully intending for you to pick up on the double meaning behind them. You were the greatest thing in his life. 

“More?” Caleb asks breathlessly, his wide violet eyes desperately pleading with yours, but fully prepared to stop if you needed a break. 

“More. Don’t tell me the birthday boy is an old man already,” you grin at him playfully. 

Caleb smirks, devastatingly handsome, leaning down to brush his lips tauntingly against yours. 

“Brat.”

He firmly cups the back of your head and claims your lips—deliciously bruising and punishing. 

With both his hands, he pins your wrists on either side of your head, rendering you completely pliant at his mercy. 

“I might be one year older,” he murmurs as he kisses down your neck, selectively leaving hickeys on your most sensitive parts.

“But I am still perfectly capable of satisfying my girl.”

Caleb presses his lips to yours, consuming you entirely and irrevocably. The taste of alcohol had completely faded away, leaving only the taste of the man you’d loved all your life. The taste of excitement, desperation, longing, and possession.

You feel him use one hand to line himself up with your entrance, entering your with one measured thrust. He swallows your pleasured gasp, pinning your hands back down gently, fingers carefully intertwining with yours.

“Christ,” Caleb groans, his lips still brushing against yours as he gently rolls his hips into you, “Tight little cunt, s’all mine, right?”

“Caaleb,” you moan brokenly, a mix of your release and his saliva making it much easier to accommodate his thick girth, “Nngh—more. Please.”

Caleb growls, his pelvis hitting your thighs with a powerful pitched clap. It’s enough to fuck your breath out of you, your body sliding up against the rough rug painfully. The feeling of his leaking cockhead claiming every sensitive spot inside of you makes the pain of the friction fade away, your eyes rolling back deeply. 

Your needy words go straight to Caleb’s cock, quelling the irrational jealousy that’d been brewing inside him and fueling the possessiveness he felt over you. 

Caleb grabs a throw pillow off the couch, lifting you effortlessly to place it under your hips. The elevation gives him the perfect angle to repeatedly hit your g-spot as it brushed bruisingly into your cervix. 

“So greedy,” he whispers, groaning at the way you wring his cock, “Pussy’s so damn needy. You should see how you’re sucking me in, baby.”

Caleb straightens up, one of your legs wrapped around his waist and the other resting straight against his shoulder as he grips it to his body. He presses tender kisses into your ankle, a sharp contrast to the way he bullies himself into your tight heat.

“Hah—hear that?” he murmurs, fingers finding your clit, making the sounds of wet sinful pleasure even more pronounced, “That’s how much you need me.”

For how self-assured Caleb was in his everyday life, he sounded very much like he was convincing himself and not you.

“Course I need you,” you moan, reassuring the side of him that you know has been hurting this week, “Mmmngh—I’ll a-always need you. Always want you.

He kisses down your calf, so absolutely devoted to worshipping you—to showing you how much he needs you. When he reaches your knee, he wraps your leg back around him, lowering himself to your flushed face. His rhythm is intentional and powerful, each stroke meant to pleasure you and not him.

With your chin softly in his fingers’ grip, he croaks with finality, “You’re mine.” 

But this time it’s not demanding or possessive, but a desperate promise. 

“Show me, Caleb,” you encourage, his urgency fueling your own orgasm. Caleb’s jaw tightens, the bulge in his neck bobbing thickly. 

“Everyday,” he whispers into your mouth, nipping at your puffy lips, “I’ll show you, every fucking day.”

Closing the rest of the distance, Caleb captures you in a kiss that speaks volumes to how wholly you consumed him—how desperately he needs to be consumed by you.

You can tell he’s close, moaning unabashedly into your mouth, hips stuttering against your own trembling body. You can practically feel his cock throbbing as it tries to bury into your damn cervix, coating your walls in beads of precum. He’s pinned you by your wrists again, fingers stroking yours, needing the illusion of complete control over you.

Pulling away, saliva still connecting the two of you, Caleb groans as his balls tighten with that unmistakable tension, “Shit, you feel so good. I-I can’t stop.”

Your toes curl, digging into his back, “No–don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop.”

“Gonna—sh-shit—cum in you princess,” Caleb warns, “Need to fill you up. Haah—Need you to feel me for days.”

You cry out at his filthy promises, body tightening in excitement, his fingers releasing you in favor of finding both your hardened peaks, one hand at your clit and the other at your breast. 

“Jesus—don't squeeze me like that,” he pleads darkly, forcefully being pushed to his precipice, “You like that idea baby?”

Caleb’s fingers press down, eliciting the most beautiful sounds he’s ever heard.

“Y-Yes!” you cry, so close to release you’d say anything if it meant you got to cum with his cock inside you.

His eyes darken, jaw ticking, your name a dangerous purr on his lips.

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Caleb’s hips snap painfully into your ass, once. He collapses on top of you, catching himself by his palms on the floor framing both sides of your face.

“Fuck—you’re so fucking perfect. Feels like heaven inside of you.”

Twice.

“Gonna let gege cum inside you, right princess?”

A third time.

“Sh-shit—gonna be able to smell me on you. In you.”

A fourth, final, time.

“You can take it, right baby? My good fucking girl.”

You cum with a strangled cry of his name, back arching against the cushion, fingers digging roughly into Caleb’s hair. There’s an uncomfortable wet splash that accompanies your climax, your entire body shaking violently against his faltering thrusts.

“Christ—!” Caleb groans, “Did you just squirt for me?”

Your explosion of ecstasy thrusts Caleb into his own violent release, the thick cords of muscles in his abdomen twitching as his body unleashes into yours, powerful and mind numbing. 

A bead of sweat falls from his skin to yours, his entire body strained with the force of his orgasm. Thick hot jets of his seed coat your aching walls, still pulsing insistently against his throbbing cock.

“F-Fuck I can’t…” Caleb’s groan is strangled, falling onto his elbows, careful not to crush you.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper quietly, voice weak, groaning as he twitches inside you.

“Ngh—can’t stop cumming,” Caleb grunts, his entire body shaking as he holds himself above you.

You look down at where your bodies are still connected, his hips still thrusting shallowly into you.

“Bear with me, princess,” he rasps apologetically. Your trembling hands reach up to gently hold his face, bringing it to yours.

You press a tender kiss to his parted lips, your tongue gently teasing his, encouraging him to ride out the waves of his orgasm. 

Caleb’s cheeks are flushed adorably red as you let him go, his hips finally stilling. Carefully, he gathers you into his arms, flipping the two of you around so that you lay on top of him, his body shielding you from the floor now.

He brushes his lips to your temple, whispering softly, “Best fucking birthday.”

At the mention of his birthday, you’re reminded of the birthday cake that was left forgotten on the entryway console table. Sitting up suddenly, you gently extricate yourself from Caleb’s hold, much to his pouty dismay. 

“Stay here, I’ll be right back!”

Caleb groans as he slips out of you against his will. If it was up to him, he’d spend his entire birthday buried inside of you.

But as you walk away on trembling legs, his cum drips down your thighs, giving Caleb the perfect view as he lays on the floor looking up at your retreating form. 

He feels himself hardening at the thought of his claim running down your legs tomorrow, when Gideon—

“Happy birthday!”

Caleb sits up on the carpeted floor to watch you return with a lit birthday cake in your hands, singing happy birthday. The cake has lost its form, having melted when it was forgotten out in the warmth of the house, much of the toppers pitifully drooping against their own weight. 

And yet, as you present it to him, beaming ear to ear, hair disheveled, dress hanging off your chest, thighs pressed together in an attempt to stop the sticky mess between your legs from dripping, serenading him…

He’d never seen anything more beautiful.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly when you finish the song, “It kinda got ruined, but—”

Caleb cuts you off with a tender thumb to your lips.

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

You blush, grinning up at him. 

“Make a wish!”

Caleb smiles ever-so-slightly, just the corners of his lips turning up, his fingers moving to cup your chin and tilt your face up at him. 

“What if I already have everything I’ve ever wanted?”

His violet eyes shine with a torrent of emotions that threatens to consume you whole, your own eyes stinging with feelings that threaten to escape. 

You bite your lip as he strokes your jaw, “Doesn’t matter. You have to make a wish.” 

You lift the cake so that it separates your bodies, the melting candle burning between your faces. Caleb chuckles before stepping back and closing his eyes. 

When they finally open, he leans down to blow the candle out. His eyes flutter to yours as he extinguishes the flame, conveying the magnitude of his words—his wishes. 

Every single one of them began and ended with you. 

As he pulls away, you ask him the same question you asked him every birthday. 

“What did you wish for?” 

Caleb laughs, taking the cake from your hands to set down on the coffee table, “My lips are sealed, pip-squeak. If I say, it won’t come true. And I really need this one to pull through.” 

Your eyes light up with unbridled curiosity, “Now you have to tell me!” 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

“Nope.”

“Pleaaaaaase!”

“Quit it.” 

“Please, please, please!” 

Caleb turns to you as he pulls you down onto the couch with him, his amethyst irises bright with amusement and adoration. He couldn’t tell you what he really wished for—that in the next lifetime, he’d be able to find you and you’d let him take your hand again. If not that, then a seagull that could fly freely with you by his side, through the salty summer skies.

He chuckles, tucking your head under his chin, resting against your infinite warmth, “Fine” 

You look up at him in surprise, listening attentively, practically boiling over with curiosity. 

Caleb takes a deep breath, looking at you with seriousness that makes your heart hammer, “I wished that Gideon would stub his big toe on—“ 

Interrupting him by flicking his forehead, you tut playfully, “One year older and still a child.” 

Caleb grins, capturing your wrist before you can pull away and bringing your fingers to his lips reverently. 

“Good thing we have an entire lifetime of birthdays for me to grow up.”

© aeyumicore 2025.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

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[viaviavie]

OPERATION CINDERELLA-SABOTAGE [HEARTSLABYUL]

in which he rescues you from your very short-lived wedding.

SUMMARY: due to a massive misunderstanding, a prince from royal sword academy is set to wed you at sunset. thankfully, your un-princely crush is here to save the day and crash this lovely wedding.

PAIRINGS: everyone x fem reader (separately)

WARNINGS: they're being a bit dramatic, characters are 18+, makeout (cater)

NOTES: this is echoes the ghost bride event, but listening to this prompted me to write out this scenario instead. i made this for shits and giggles, so have fun with this!

HEARTSLABYUL | SAVANACLAW | OCTANIVELLE | SCARABIA | POMEFIORE | IGNIHYDE | DIASOMNIA

There was no way you would be able to say 'no' now, not when there were hundreds of Royal Sword Academy students and even more members of a random royal family whose last names you cannot recall waiting outside that door. Aside from a completely oblivious Neige and Che'nya who was nowhere to be found, there was no one you could really ask for help to get you out of this mess.

You turn to your supposed betrothed with frantic eyes, shaking your head wildly. "I already told you, I'm not the one you danced with at the ball!" Your hisses fell on deaf ears. That damned prince from Royal Sword Academy was too busy making the 'goo-goo' eyes at you to even register what you were saying.

"I just happened to have the same shoe-size!"

Damn it, why did you have to agree to fitting some missing girl's shoe?!

Pierce Charmant, possibly the most delusional guy you have ever met in Twisted Wonderland, clung onto your calf with a stubborn expression. He had no intentions of letting you go, and neither did his five other guards that had blocked your way.

"You have to be her!"

"You don't even know my name!"

You were really counting on Grim to get someone, anyone, to stop this wedding. Yet, as you are walked down the aisle by the fair Neige, you are already planning out a divorce settlement plan. Based on the number of guests here, who had filled this entire venue from top to bottom, you would have guessed that this prince was rather rich. If it was to be an unhappy marriage, at least your wallet would be more than compensated.

You managed to convince this prince to send invitations to Night Raven College, but that didn't matter. He was so excited and in a hurry to marry, that your friends barely had any time to rescue you! There must have been so much traffic with the mirrors that they couldn't even use them! There was just no way that they'd make it in time now.

And so you consign yourself to readying some divorce papers within the next few weeks, and planning out how to avoid any more interactions with this guy while you were married.

You stood at the chapel's base, your expression exasperated than ever as you kept darting your gaze to the door. You've already tripped over the aisle a few times, fumbled the scripted vows, and even called for a bathroom break or two to stall.

And now comes the big moment that you were so desperately trying to avoid.

"Would you, Pierce Charmant, take the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, as your lawfully wedded wife?"

The prince smiles so sickly sweet, and its the look of a man who won't change his mind.

"I do."

You grimace as the officiant faces you, just as blind to your annoyed expression.

"Would you, the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, take Pierce Charmant as you lawfully wedded husband?" They didn't even use your name!

You pause, the image of your crush flashing before your eyes.

You would never see him again if you let yourself get married. Defiance returns to your face as you suck in a deep breath, ready to deal with the consequences of rejecting this delusional prince in front of hundreds of people.

"I—"

"I object!"

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

"Grim, please explain to me why I received an invitation to the Prefect's wedding... I am calm, Trey. I would just prefer to know the details before I go and fetch her myself... and may I ask one more thing? Yes, hoW IN THE WORLD DID THE PREFECT GET KIDNAPPED LIKE THIS?! DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO CALM ME DOWN, CATER. I AM PERFECTLY CALM."

Riddle calmly asked about your whereabouts, and it does not take him long to immediately get to work. As one of the better respected housewardens among the roster, it was easier to ask for a few favors that could get him to that damned cathedral fast. However, as the traffic did pile up to get to this accursed wedding, Riddle finds himself on horseback.

He does have this awful crush on you, but it never really crosses his mind. Even as he holds certain feelings for you, it's at the back of his mind. Riddle values your autonomy, and this marriage was a massive red flag. Surely, you cannot have possibly agreed to such a thing. It was just not in your nature. You would have protested, and the fact that you are not back in campus means that something is preventing you from speaking your mind. Riddle really respects you in this aspect!

Still, the idea of you marrying some prince who barely knew it was absolutely absurd. Riddle won't allow it, he absolutely won't!

The doors were flung open with a loud thud, revealing a red-head in a suit. Much to your surprise, Riddle isn't burning red with a fiery rage and threatening to have everyone's head off. He's stomping towards you and your supposed groom, fist clenched as he throws out an arm out of anger. He doesn't seem too angry, but determined.

"ENOUGH! SHE WILL BE COMING BACK TO NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE WITH ME NOW."

Okay, maybe you were wrong about him not being angry.

His voice echoes throughout the entire cathedral, followed by several flinches at his sheer volume. Immediately, the crowd by the rows inch back a bit further as he continues to march forward, ignoring the guards that seemed to hesitate to approach him. Pierce raises a brow, almost annoyed rather than fearful of this disturbance.

"There seems to be a misunderstanding. You see, the Prefect is going to be married to me. You can sort out your affairs after the ceremony is over." Well, that didn't seem to help one bit, judging by how Riddle seemed to fume even further at this statement.

The housewarden comes to a halt, sucking in a sharp breath to calm his temper. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to frighten you.

He breathes out your name, sending a stutter through your heart.

"Do you truly want to marry this man?"

It almost makes you swoon, the way Riddle looks at you so earnestly as he asks for some affirmation. Had it been any other scenario, you would've taken your time to bore your eyes into his and study his expression. Instead, you shake your head wildly, racing down the aisle until you have hidden yourself behind him.

Riddle has the nerve to smirk at the shocked Prince. "And here, I thought princes had a code of conduct when it came to their ladies." He turned back to you with an assuring look. "I'll take you home, Prefect."

Truly, Riddle had no intentions of playing around. He had only one objective, to get you out of here. Just as he turns around to escort you out of the cathedral, a pair of guards had blocked the exit.

"No, I cannot let you leave!" Pierce cried out, ready to give chase. "Prefect, please! Give me a chance. You cannot possibly be ready to leave me for... this guy!"

Riddle's eye twitches as he cranes himself to look at the prince. "You have some nerve!" He clicks out, clenching his fists once more. Everyone feels the cathedral heat up, those closer to the aisles feeling beads of sweat form upon their temples. Even as you looked at Riddle so gently, a part of you was somewhat grateful that he was sticking up for you.

Just as his top was about to blow, you muster the will to tug on Riddle's sleeve. As quickly as his reddened face came, it disappears when he glances back at your soft expression. Huffing out a heavy sigh, Riddle clicks his tongue and marches towards the exit.

"Let's be on our way, Prefect. We shouldn't waste our precious time on these trifles."

Needless to say, no one really wanted to test the housewarden's patience as he escorted you out of that Cathedral. Riddle certainly doesn't waste time hoisting you onto his horse and galloping away, not giving the prince a second to try and retrieve you.

He grumbles about the entire ordeal, mostly questioning the absolute ridicule of the marriage. What kind of prince thinks he can get away with it? Riddle is certain to send a complain to Royal Sword Academy regarding their lessons on conduct if no one tries to stop him.

You could easily see Night Raven College from afar as you peeked from behind his tuft of red hair. Riddle is still rambling, a preferable alternative to losing his temper entirely. "That ruffian dares to marry you and has yet to learn your name! How uncouth!" He spat in absolute distaste, and he finds comfort in the way you giggle in agreement.

Riddle doesn't seem to take note of the way your arms are crossed around his middle, or maybe he does, and just chooses not to let his blush show. He cleared his throat, gripping the reigns a bit tighter. "You will find better suitors, Prefect. Just promise me that he wouldn't be so impulsive as that Prince."

TREY CLOVER

"Can you drive any faster, Deuce? No, I don't think we're late. Better safe than sorry! ... Suit, check. Speech, check. Myself, check. I've got everything in order, but... hah, I'd expect to do this type of thing a few years down the line, let alone object at a wedding at all. At least, it's the Prefect's wedding... That's such a weird thing to conceptualize at this point in time."

He really didn't have to be so dramatic about the entire thing, but Trey is really going all-out for this objection. Really, all he's done is seen movies where someone objects at a wedding and while he knows its entirely fictional, our boy here has to drive the point home; no one is marrying the Prefect today.

So that explains why he even bothered to dress up and rehearse a speech throughout the entire ride to the cathedral. He has Heartslabyul helping him out to secure an escape for you in case things went awry. Sure, Trey's Unique Magic won't come in handy but he's good with his words, and is relatively charismatic. He's earned that title of Vice Housewarden, after all.

All that preparation flies out the window when he sees you down the aisle, however.

"Trey?"

He's blinking profusely, almost flustered himself by how radiant you looked in that wedding dress. For a moment, Trey swears that he's had some sort of tunnel vision when all he seems to see is you. It strikes some envy in him when he reminds himself that this wasn't his wedding, and this wouldn't be yours either.

"Prefect..." Trey breathed out, struggling to recall the damn script he was supposed to follow. They are lost, just as he found himself lost in your sparkling gaze.

Screw the script, he was just going to have to wing this one.

He narrows his eyes onto the shocked prince, taking steps down that long carpet. "I've come to bring you back to Night Raven College."

Pierce raises a brow, glancing back at you and the intruder with suspicion. "On what grounds?" He questions snidely, uncertain of what to make of this new character. "If it is for anything trivial, then you may bother the Prefect later. You are obstructing a ceremony here, sir."

You recognize that dangerous glint behind Trey's eyes, and it only serves to make your heart race. Trey simply smirks, hiding away his hesitant exterior with a haughty farce. "I am afraid it cannot wait. I cannot allow the Prefect to be married without saying my piece."

He doesn't exactly know where all his bravado was coming from, but if he had to confess his feelings to you now, then so be it.

Trey looks at you, flashing a gentle yet sheepish smile. "Prefect, I fell for you. Hook, line, and sinker." You let out a dramatic gasp along with the onlookers, allowing a hand to fly to your parted lips. "I have harbored those feelings for a long time now, and I cannot bring myself to see you married without letting my heart be known."

Swallowing to himself, Trey's expression falters slightly, falling into one of softness. "Prefect, it is your happiness that I desire. No matter what happens, I will support your choice."

He didn't exactly have to tell you twice, not when you hurry yourself over to his side and latch onto his arm. You didn't have to feed his ego like that, but it isn't as if Trey had any room to complain.

Pierce is angered by the sight, glaring daggers at Trey with such envy and animosity. "Prefect, are you really leaving me on the altar?" As if to subtly annoy the prince even further, Trey hooks an arm around your waist and pivots you to turn. "It seems to be so, Prince Pierce. I fear that your beautiful bride will be stolen on this lovely afternoon."

You do not miss the way Trey smirks at your flustered expression. Just as he continues to walk you to the exit, you gritted your teeth at him. "Don't say such things!" You tell him as the heat rises to your cheeks. You hear him hum at your ear, followed by the slight press of his fingers on your hip.

"Why shouldn't I? You look beautiful in this dress," Trey murmurs in your ear, pushing the cathedral door open with his hand. "And I suppose that the prince hasn't coaxed this expression out of you. I almost feel sorry for him, that he never got the chance to see how lovely you are when you are putty in my hands."

Trey doesn't stop teasing you, even once you are back in Night Raven College. He wouldn't stop complimenting you either, aiming to have you as red as possible. He just can't help it. It's probably the high he got from confessing his feelings to you, or maybe it's the part where you're unsure if he was being sincere or not. Regardless, it was fun seeing you get all flustered because of him.

You are seated by the Heartslabyul's kitchen counter, snacking on some quick treats that Trey had prepared for you. He claims that it was a consolation for the fact you never got to taste your own wedding cake. Still clad in your grand wedding dress, you couldn't exactly care any less about the crumbs soiling the skirts. "You're no prince charming, Trey." You mentioned mid-bite, eyes glancing at the vice-housewarden who was seated across from you.

"What makes you say that?" He asks you with a slight smile, resting his chin on his palm as he shamelessly bored his gaze into yours.

You snort, rolling your eyes at his seemingly sweet disposition. "Prince Charmings don't tease the girls that they like until they're as red as Riddle." You huffed, digging your fork into the pastry. "You cruel man! You haven't stopped ever since you stole me from the prince!"

Trey chuckles, and you cannot keep yourself from gulping as he leaves his seat, sauntering towards you like a lion would his prey. "Oh? I suppose that I am no Prince Charming. I'm not a pure white knight either. If you think I am being cruel, I won't stop you, sweetheart."

Your heart stutters as he slides a finger underneath your chin, tilting your head so that your forced to look his way. Trey smiles at you, eyes twinkling with absolute mischief. "I highly doubt Prince Charmings steal kisses from their crushes either. For you, I will be kind. May I, sweetheart? I do not need your shoe size to know my feelings for you, at least."

CATER DIAMOND

"Gah, it just refreshed! They've just gotten past the walking part! Deuce, shortcut on your left! Sorry, I'm switching tabs between maps and the livestream! Prefect looks is such a cutie in that dress, it makes me so envious of the prince! Oh well, she really looks like she doesn't wanna be there anyways. I'm coming Prefect! I'll save you!"

There's just this image of Cater clinging onto Deuce on a blastcycle, raising his phone up for a signal as they attempt to maneuver their way through the streets. Everything just happened in such a rush, and Cater's scrambling to get to you. He isn't like Trey who bothers to prepare, but if anything, Cater will ramp up the dramatics to the maximum.

His real goal is just to get you out by any means necessary, and more preferably, without violence. So Cater will do what he does best; make a grand spectacle of the entire thing until the prince is forced to abdicate. Worst case scenario, he's going to drag you out the door and shove you onto the damn blastcycle.

If he has to play the part of your real paramour, then he hopes you'll forgive him. He's got the suit and the desperate look on his face ready to go!

Your jaw goes slack at the way Cater makes a dramatic run for the aisle, somewhat unused to that stricken expression on his face. You're almost concerned for him with the way he grips his knees, attempting to keep his balance as his eyes zone in onto yours.

"Prefect, you can't marry him!" It's too out of character of Cater, and you know better than to think he'd ever be this undone in public. "Is this what you really want?!" Before you could even reply, Pierce cuts in with a slight glare.

"And who are you to talk to my bride like that?" It is then when you catch wind of that mischievous glint in Cater's eye as he throws out his arm dramatically.

"I am the Prefect's sweetheart! Who are you to take my girlfriend like that?"

You have never heard the cathedral go so silent. You are utterly speechless, lips parted with absolute surprise. Clearly, judging by the way sweat had begun to form on the side of Cater's temple, you cannot help but think that this was all improv on his half.

Pierce turns to look at you, almost stricken by the ginger's declaration. "Prefect, is that true?" His voice trembles with fear. "Is that truly your... sweetheart?"

A part of you feels a bit sorry for what you were about to do, but you had to remind yourself that you had been dragged into a wedding on the same day you met this prince.

You are running now, sprinting to Cater's side as you clutch his hand in your own. Turning back to the scandalized prince, you nod firmly, playing along with the farce. "We've been dating for a long time now! And I'm in love with him!" You declare, sending gasps throughout the entire cathedral.

You glance up at Cater, mustering a smile across your features. "You came to save me!" He's almost surprised by the way you cling onto him even harder, but it only serves to sell the act even further. Cater smiles in return, holding you closely. "I'd never let you go, cutie. I love you too much to let you leap into the arms of another man."

Maybe the act is too good, too calculated. That is exactly what goes through your head as Pierce raises a brow in suspicion, narrowing his eyes onto the pair as if attempting to spot a mistake. "Is that so?" He murmurs until he crosses his arms, disbelief on his skeptical expression.

"Prove it."

Cater and you freeze up simultaneously, heads turning to glance at one another. He looked so caught off guard by Pierce's demand, and there's so many eyes on you both.

"You're both longtime sweethearts, right? I wouldn't want to split apart such a happy couple..."

Cater is staring at you, attempting to read your expression. It's difficult, especially when you look at him as your gaze gets even more glossy. He wouldn't want to do anything you didn't want to, and he's already readying himself to sprint out the door with you in tow.

"Prefect, you don't have to—mmph!"

You wasted no time in snaking your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against him with such boldness. He could feel you pour all your wants and longings into the kiss, the plush of your soft lips melding into his own. How could he not deny you his own affections, not as he cups your cheeks with his slender fingers and presses back against you.

He dares to go even further, pulling back for a slight gasp of air before diving back into you. Much to his delight, you aren't pulling away either, choosing to even entangle your fingers into his hair for leverage.

Then you hear a groan from the prince, followed by his pleas for you two to stop this display. It seems that he got the point now, at least.

Even as both of you exit the cathedral, Cater still maintains the image that he was your boyfriend. You don't exactly protest, and even then, it didn't seem to different to the way Cater had been treating you as a friend. He is still as clingy as ever, closing the physical proximities by having you hang onto his arm.

And you best believe he's snapping as much photos of you to commemorate the event. He's already updating his MagiCam account on his success, not to mention the pretty girl on his arm.

"Cater, what are you doing?" You asked, unable to hide the grin on your face as Cater sets up his camera against the tire of the blastcycle. You could see yourselves on the reflection of the device, followed by the grand beauty of the cathedral behind you both. He grins at you as he shifts at your side.

"What? It isn't everyday a cutie like you gets to look like a bride. We got the perfect backdrop!" He sings, sliding an arm around your waist as he strikes for a pose. You follow his lead, matching his energy with each shot.

"Careful! People are going to think we're dating for real!"

Cater smirks at you, leaning in closely to your ear with a sickeningly sweet tease. "Wanna make it official then, cutie? Can't have any random princes asking for your hand, not when you're dating me." He is not stranger to the way you blush, letting out a chuckle at the sight.

"Aw, cutie! Are you still thinking about the kiss? I didn't think you would be so bold about it." Pressing a quick peck on the cheek, he rests his chin on your head as he prepares for another pose. "Don't worry. CayCay's gonna initiate it next time!"

DEUCE SPADE

"Grim, which way?! I can't see the GPS! ... Don't I just have to go in there and yell 'I object'? It looks easy! I'll say it then drag Prefect out of there... Ha?! I need to prove that I have a good reason to get her out? Fine! I don't care, the Prefect needs me!"

Possibly the closest we will get to a legit Prince Charming. Perhaps Deuce is a bit on the rugged side, but he's possibly one of the most earnest and noble students from Night Raven College. He cares about you more than he cares about getting his feelings across, but that is not to say he won't be honest about it either in this confrontation.

He's not exactly sure on how to break up the ceremony. Grim and Ace are coaching him through what to say, and admittedly, the process seems too complicated. All he knows is that he has to run through those doors and convince the prince to not marry the Prefect by any means necessary.

"Deuce!"

He is the one to always come running at the sound of your name. Deuce had been someone you trusted during your stay here in Twisted Wonderland, and you never seemed to stop and think about just how attached that boy was to you. Sure, you held him closely as a friend and held affections for him, but the way he sprinted towards you was a testament to how much he cared.

"Prefect!" You are racing to meet him halfway, launching yourself into his chest. He catches you barreling into his suit, immediately wrapping his arms around you in a protective manner. Then he takes you by the soldiers, looking down at you with such concern and worry. "Are you hurt? Are you okay?" He fusses, earning a shy smile from you.

"I'm okay, Deuce. I'm okay."

"And what is the meaning of this?"

Catching sight of the infuriated prince, Deuce beckons you to stand behind him. Cerulean eyes narrow onto the groom with animosity, accompanied by the way his hands are itching towards his wand. "I can't let you marry her. The Prefect will be returning to Night Raven College with me." You can sense the nervousness in his tone, but Deuce remains firm in his words.

Pierce's eye twitches, and he scoffed in disbelief at Deuce's protective display. "I am afraid that cannot be possible. I am marrying the Prefect, and that is final." Clicking his tongue, Pierce rolls his eyes and holds out his hand for you to take. "Come, darling. I am not surprised that you have garnered the affections of an admirer, but I fancy you more than this one ever could."

Something in Deuce snaps as he lets out a cry.

"But I love her!"

You stiffen against his back, taken by surprise by Deuce's sudden confession. And the boy glares, and it almost so painful for Pierce to keep his stare, not when there was so much conviction and certainty behind Deuce's voice.

"I've loved her longer than you have, and known her much longer than that!" His voice cracks underneath the emotional turmoil bubbling within him. "Did you even stop to consider what she wants? Did you wonder if this wedding would make her happy in the first place?!"

You take note of how Deuce's fists are clenched pale, how his breaths had suddenly grown haggard. With a soft expression, you curl yourself onto his back, arms hugging him from behind in an attempt to placate him. His body stiffens against your hold, but he reaches to clasp your hands onto his own.

He is just thankful that you aren't seeing the way his eyes had begun to water at the thought of losing you entirely. "So please," He chokes out, expression twisted with a sort of agony.

"Please don't force her to marry you. She deserves so much more than that."

Thanks to the waterworks that Deuce had caused, the wedding was called off. There was just no way that the prince could marry you after Deuce poured his heart out to deter him from wedding you.

It's almost sweet, the way that Deuce lifts you onto the blastcycle and fixes the helmet onto your head. He encourages you to hold onto him tightly as he speeds away from the cathedral, all the more determined to settle you back into NRC.

By the time he's dropped you off at the Ramshackle Dorm, only then does he take the time to bask in how radiant you appeared in a wedding dress. Thinking about his crush in a wedding dress had never crossed Deuce's mind before, but this definitely gave him something to ponder about for the next couple of nights.

You are handing him the helmet, a shy smile surfacing across your features. "Thank you for saving me from that awful wedding." Deuce clears his throat, shifting his gaze as he takes the helmet from your grasp. "I didn't want you to do something you weren't willing to. It just isn't right."

He doesn't realize just how dry his throat as gotten when he cannot bring himself to keep his thoughts to himself. "I love you. I really do, and I wish I said it at a better time." He swallows to himself, letting the embarrassment burn into the back of his head as he recalls his declaration. It was only natural that 'like' would turn into 'love' after being your close confidant for this long, pining quietly during the months spent with you.

You cannot exactly blame him either, not when his feelings were entirely reciprocated. You shift on the balls of your heel, biting onto your lower lip.

And in a swift motion, you lean in to press a chaste kiss against Deuce's warm cheek. You pull away to bask upon the stunned expression on his face, only to give him a shy smile of your own.

"Would you be down to try confessing again tomorrow?"

ACE TRAPPOLA

"BAHAHAHAHA! THERE'S NO WAY THE PREFECT IS GETTING MARRIED. WHO WOULD EVER WANNA MARRY THE PREFECT? PFFFFT, GRIM, YOU'RE SERIOUSLY PULLING MY LEG HERE. YOU EVEN BROUGHT ME A FAKE INVITATION! AIN'T NO WAY THAT SHE— Oh... Wait, really? The wedding is happening right now? ... Oh."

Ace thought you were just messing him again for that one time he said that no one would ever be interested in you. He simply said that to discourage you from trying to pursue a relationship with anyone else, but he didn't mean for you to prove him wrong like that! He never believes Grim until Deuce, Riddle, and the rest of Heartslabyul receive invitations to a wedding that was meant to start in 3 hours.

This is the absolute worst time to be in denial about his feelings. The Prefect wearing a wedding gown is one thing, but another is the fact that the groom is some pompous prince from Royal Sword Academy. Does that guy seriously think he was your type? No way! Ace knows you better than anyone on this campus, so this guy can buzz off!

A part of him did think that you were serious about marrying this stranger. In all fairness, Crowley's allowance pales in comparison to whatever Mr. Money-Bags had over there. He wouldn't blame you if you were marrying the guy for money.

Still, the last thing he wants is for you to be whisked away to who knows where. Ace would never see you again, and as embarrassing as it sounds, he did get very attached to you. Yes, a part of him wants to keep you to himself, but he also values your autonomy here. And if he knew you that well, he knows that you wouldn't want to be married off like this.

"Prefect, I'm here to pick you up."

You are actually surprised by how princely Ace looked in that moment. Dressed in a suit befitting a groom, you could help but feel your breath stolen away once his scarlet eyes were pinned onto yours. You could have been fooled then, and perhaps, Ace did turn into a prince as he marched down the aisle with his arm outstretched for you to take.

Ace never realizes the way a victorious smile creeps onto his face when you break out into a grin, taking the skirt of your dress as you make run for it. The crowd gasps as you crashed into Ace's chest, and he does not hesitate to take a protective stance in front of you. With a haughty laugh, he smirks at the baffled prince. "Who are you?!"

The redhead's arm wraps around your waist, pressing your body closer to his own. "Sorry about that, but I'll be taking your bride indefinitely! Trust me, you'll be severely disappointed after spending one good day with her!" He snickered, much to your horrified expression. You lightly smack at his chest, glaring at him with that pout that he adores so much.

"Hey!" You whine, and Ace simply beams at the prince who hesitantly steps forward. The redhead snorts, rolling his eyes at the crowd that are offended at his immature display. "I'm doing you a great favor here! If you kissed those lips, she'll turn into an ugly green ogre by sunset!"

"HEY!"

Pierce's eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at you, as if pleading for you to return to his arms. "You'd best return her, boy. We can settle this maturely." Ace does not like the way that these bodyguards are eyeing him, shifting closer and closer as he backed you both towards the venue entrance. He never falters, and neither does that shit-eating grin on his face.

"Sorry, buddy. The clock's struck midnight and all your magic tricks are fading!" He barks. Now, he knows that an escape must be made. The last thing he wants is to have another Eliza-episode. He looks down at you with a wide grin, clasping you arm with a firm squeeze.

Ace sneaks into his pocket, still looking at you. "You know something, Charmant? Maybe not all the magic has gone yet." His hand reveals the Ace of Cards, and it is immediately thrown up into the air.

As the card reached its peak in height, a burst of smoke filled the air, obscuring the magician and yourself from view.

You don't exactly need a signal to start running when your feet began moving on their own, dashing towards the door followed by the Ace's laugh and the prince's demand for guards.

Ace has no white horse, but he has Deuce with his blastcycle! Who knows how the three of you managed to fit on that bike, but you made it work! The guards couldn't exactly catch up in their cars, not when Deuce was dodging vehicles left and right to make this escape. Ace did take one final look back, sticking his tongue out at the defeated prince before you all disappeared around the corner.

Ace gives you his shoes, despite how oversized they may be. You complained about those glass shoes on you, and to 'shut you up', he's given you his runners.

When you make it back to Night Raven College and all the adrenaline has died down, Ace stays by your side the entire time when you explain the entire situation to Crewel and Crowley. He acts so nonchalant about things, even as you both walk all over the campus like groom and bride.

It's a rather odd sight; you in your wedding gown, and Ace right next to you as you both sit on the bench by the Great Seven's statues. Students wandering about at night had given both of you puzzled stares, but no one is ever surprised when they realize it's you and Ace, however.

"Wow, Prefect. Not even a thank you?" He glances at your slightly annoyed expression, throwing his hands up defensively in response. "I was kidding about the ogre stuff! Really!"

You could only roll your eyes at his words, huffing as you crossed your arms across your chest. When you refuse to speak, Ace sticks out his lower lip into a pout as he leans his head onto your shoulder. "Come on, don't be like that. Are you actually that upset about it?"

There is no response from you, not even a glance as your nose is turned away from him. Then Ace sighs, practically clambering over your lap just so that you are forced to look at him. "Prefeeeect, I said I was sorry! What? Do I have to kiss you to make me apology authentic?"

Only then do you look back at him with a raised brow, almost expectant. Ace blinks with surprise, a slight blush creeping to his ears. "For real? You're serious?" He exclaimed, much to your agitation. You sigh even louder as you shove him off your lap, hastily getting up to your feet to leave him behind.

"Wait! Prefect, I said wait!" You feel a hand on your wrist, twirling you back to face the redhead. Ace bites onto his lower lip, unable to keep the red from flooding his cheeks. "I really just said all that mean stuff to get the prince off your back, you know? I didn't think you'd take it so seriously."

And when he sees that smirk creeping up onto your features, he groans as he leans in closely into your space.

"Now look at what you've done! You had me all panicked over what?" You feel his breath tickling your lips, followed by the way his hands crawl up your neck to cradle your jaw.

"If you just wanted a kiss, you could've asked..."

[reidmotif]

Hands-On Learning

Summary: Reader is deep in preparation for her finals, much to Spencer’s frustration. When she creatively incorporates him into her anatomy review, it turns into a pleasurable experience for them both.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: f!receiving oral, face sitting, face riding, f!masturbation, softdom!spencer, but he's needy and desperate, anatomy terms that may have been used incorrectly (sorry), slight dry humping, overstimulation, yearning.

Word Count: 3.3k

Masterlist

Finals season. 

The ever-dreaded, ever-disliked period between the end of April to June where every student you know is scrambling to absorb roughly four months of material in a matter of weeks.

All bets are off in this lawless space of time. Coffee at 2 AM? Completely advised, go right ahead. Hundreds of dollars spent in food delivery? Sure. Anything to keep the grind going, right? Major papers that should’ve taken weeks to write being done in a frantic three hours? It’s a rite of passage, really. And luckily, you get to spend a much-needed summer break afterwards, recovering from all these horrific decisions you’ve put yourself through. 

Needless to say, your current setup involved many textbooks, flashcards scattered about, and highlighters in the most random of places, all in the name of preparation for this beast of a week. 

And of course, it was all set to the sounds of a very needy Spencer Reid, who’d been begging for your attention since he’d gotten here.

“You’ve studied so much already, I swear. Can’t you take a break?”Spencer questions petulantly, sitting on the bed adjacent to your desk, where you were currently hard at work memorizing the thirty-one pairs of nerves that made up the spine. 

You’d been studying intensely for this semester's finals. By making a couple of well-informed choices beforehand, you were actually quite on track when it came to your learning and retention of material.

For the most part, it seemed like you were on track to sail through all your classes without a hitch. That held true, until you brought up Introduction to Anatomy. 

Anatomy was fun, by all means. Interesting labs, interesting people, interesting content. However, what daunted you more than anything in pertinence to the material was the enormity of the terms and vocabulary you were expected to know in time for the exam.

“I haven’t studied enough.” Is your quick response, a small smirk finding its way to your lips. Despite loving your boyfriend, there was a certain pleasure in seeing him so desperate for you, a power-rush that felt unbelievably good.

And to your credit, you really were hard at work memorizing these terms. As much as you enjoyed his company (and the sex he wanted to engage in), it simply could not take precedence over the task at hand. 

“You know, multiple studies recommend at least twenty minutes of a break for every hour you study, for peak brain efficiency, and you-” He checks his watch, mentally calculating how long you’d been at that desk. “You’re due for at least an hour’s worth of break at this point.” 

You finally look up, your finger halting on the paper it’d been tracing over. “Spencer, you know I’d love to take a break but-” 

He sighs heavily. “I’m aware. This is important. I get it.” He grumbles, flopping onto the bed in a slightly dramatic fashion. 

You giggle at the scene. For all his propriety, there was never a more amusing sight than your boyfriend reduced to base desire and instinct. You take pity on him though, and smile gently at him. 

“Look, why don’t you get out? Go have lunch, do whatever, and come back. Hopefully I’ll be closer to finishing then, and we can hang out then?” You offer, hope in your voice. 

He sighs and nods, lifting himself off your bed. “Yeah, sounds good.” He murmurs, coming over to the desk to place an affectionate, chaste kiss upon the top of your head. “Good luck.” He says, cracking a half smile as he leaves, which you return with a smile of your own. 

The door closes, and you’re left with nothing but silence, and the lateral cutaneous branches looking up at you from their place on the page. Time to work at it, you suppose. 

It’s about two hours later, when you hear the tell-tale knock of your boyfriend at your door, presumably back from his excursion away from you. Your place at your desk is momentarily abandoned in favor of letting him in, and there’s instant delight in your eyes, considering the two cups of coffee he presents to you. One is iced, one is not. Without any words exchanged between either party, the iced coffee is grabbed and you grin. 

“Thank you.” You say, taking a sip. Of course he’d remember your order perfectly. 

“You know, that could’ve been my coffee, for all you know.” He teases, striding into the room. 

You roll your eyes fondly whilst you close the door. “Spencer Reid drinking iced coffee? I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“Coffee is supposed to be hot!” He protests, immediately, this being an obvious subject of passion for him. “Hot brewed coffee contains far more antioxidants, and doesn’t risk being watered down by ice- oh, and another thing-” 

You stifle a chuckle whilst watching him. This had been an ongoing debate for you two, essentially since the day you met. Your first date had been at a coffee shop. When he'd asked for your order, he looked almost appalled at the prefix of “iced” you’d tacked onto your statement.

Nevertheless, he still ordered it, and did his best to educate you on why hot coffee was “clearly” superior.

Somewhere between lecturing you on caffeine effectivity and nutritional information, you were head over heels. 

“Anyway.” He says, breaking your thoughts, and seemingly done with his argument. “How far are you into studying?” 

You make your way back to your desk, biting your lip as you stand over the material.  “Pretty far.” You murmur, reluctantly. “I dunno. I know I know this material, but I feel like it hasn’t solidified in my brain, you know? Like I need to keep hammering it in until it’s basically muscle memory for me.” 

He moves slowly to be behind you, his hands coming to rub your shoulders gently, soothing the worn out muscles on your back. His touch is warm and reassuring, a quiet way of saying, “You can rest.”

“You know.” He murmurs, softly. “You’d probably do better with a break. Take a breather, let your brain relax for a second.” 

There’s a pause, before he adds in a quiet voice, “Maybe spend some time with me?” His hand comes to move some hair away from your neck, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the side of it. 

You melt into the movement. He always knew exactly where your weak spots were, where you’d falter and give right into his ministries.

But you know you can’t. You force yourself to breathe and look away, as though that simple act might help you forget how his hands had lingered on you just a moment ago.

“I want to, I swear. But I won’t feel good about taking downtime until I’m absolutely sure I’ve got this.” You say, firmly extricating yourself from his grasp.

He gives another one of his heavy sighs, accepting his fate quietly, knowing he won’t be able to convince you outside of your own accord. 

“Alright then. I’ll just hang out here then.. For however long that might take.” 

You give a small, pained smile. “Thank you. I know I’m being difficult.” 

“You’re not. You could never be difficult.” He responds, immediately, returning your smile with one of his own. “It’s just finals season. I know your  performance will be wonderful, and we’ll have all the time in the world afterwards to spend time together.” 

Your heart melts. You were beyond lucky to have him, and that adoration and knowledge is displayed plainly through your expression. “Thank you.” You repeat, unable to verbalize just how much his support meant to you. “I hate finals.” 

“You and I both.” He shoots back, cracking a grin. “You’re going to do great.” 

There’s no trace of doubt in his tone at all. 

For the next hour or so, you both quietly coexist in the same space, the names of musculature and types of fibers muttered under your breath. After a while, the terms click into place, and with a quiet breath, you let the tension go. The final step in your preparation involved practicing the newly learned terms on a human model. Ideally, it would be one of the fake skeletons in the anatomy lab. Your gaze, however, drifted to your boyfriend on your bed, sprawled out, reading your physics textbook for fun. 

Nerd. 

An almost evil plan enters your brain, and your voice goes sickly sweet as you call out his name. 

“Spence?” “Mm?” He murmurs, looking over the book. 

“Can you strip down to your underwear, please?” A harmless smile plays on your lips as you ask.

Spencer’s all ears as he hears that, and in record time his clothes are shed. “Are you-” “Lie back on the bed.” You order. 

He’s so obedient and eager, immediately complying with what you’ve asked of him without question. You smile, and discreetly grab a washable marker before making your way to where he was laid out. 

“God. I’ve been so insanely needy for you all day. I’m so glad you’re done.” He says, his expression reeking of starvation as you straddle him. You can feel him harden under your touch, and choose to ignore that. 

You lean down, your head at about his chest. His breathing quickens in anticipation, already so turned on from the minimal contact between you two.

Before he can make a move of his own, you pull out your marker and mark the space between his clavicle and shoulder.

“Brachial plexus.” You murmur, much to his utter confusion and dismay. 

“You have to be kidding me.” He says, his look of confusion quickly morphing into one of realization. “I thought you were done-” 

“I’m not.” You say, with a small smirk on your lips. “But I will be, if you’re quiet and let me work on you.” 

He groans. “You’re evil, this is evil. I won’t-” 

“The faster we get through this, the faster I’m all yours.” You interrupt, mostly ignoring him, because you know he’ll do anything if it means touching you by the end of it. 

He takes a pained breath and tries to relax while you work on top of him,  his obvious erection straining against the fabric of his briefs.

The pen drags down his chest, as you move down on him to better position yourself in accordance to the medial pectoral nerve you were marking.

“Baby, please.” He groans out, his hands fisting in the sheets below him in an attempt to not grab you and take you right then and there.

The slightest bit of friction seems to set him off, and you can tell he isn’t playing it up in the slightest. He truly was, well and gone for you within this moment.

“Sorry.” You murmur. “Just marking your.. anterior cutaneous branches.. of the thoracic nerves.” The pen drags against a spot on his chest, and he shudders. 

“Won’t this stain my skin?” He says, a slight whine in his tone, doing absolutely anything to free himself from the absolute torture of this predicament he’d found himself in. 

“Nah. It’s one of those pens they use for surgery.” You respond, dragging it along his sternum to mark a few more necessary terms. “It’ll come right off in the shower.” 

You know exactly how to push his buttons. You lean in closer and whisper against his ear enticingly, “We can get clean together.” 

He squeezes his eyes at that, the feeling of your lips brushing against his earlobe triggering an involuntary response, a low moan escaping him. “This is.. so unfair. I just want to touch you. Please.” 

“Not until I’m done.” You fire back. “C'mon. You can be good and wait, right?” 

“Easy for you to say.” He grits out. “You’re not the one, half naked and hard and having to watch you be..” He trails off.

“Be what?” You ask, a bit distracted as you mark another nerve of importance.

“Be.. sexy.” He mumbles out, clearly embarrassed by his own musings. 

A small, wry smile comes upon your mouth. You lean back, a breath of laughter slipping free. “You think I look sexy?” You say, a teasing lilt in your tone.

He rubs a hand over his face, clearly mortified. “Yes. Yes, okay!” He grumbles out, clearly self-conscious by just how much he’s managed to be affected by you. “You’re on top of me, drawing on me, and I’m aware they’re just anatomical terms, but God the way you say them.” 

His voice devolves into a near whimper, pitiful and aching. “It’s killing me.” 

You hum, pleased with yourself. “Killing you, huh?”

“Yes.” He mewls. “Killing me. I want you so much, please. You’re so smart. Please. I know you’re going to do so good on this final. Just please, please, let me touch you.”

He collapses into his words, into you. No pride left, just need.

“Yeah? You think I’m smart?” You murmur teasingly, tracing the plastic of your marker along the side of his neck. 

“Yes.” He moans, lowly. “So smart. You’re so hot when you’re working so hard. Makes me want you so bad.” 

Your head turns back, and you can see the wetness of precum leaking from his cock on his briefs. He wasn’t faking it to get your attention. He yearned for you, plain and simple.

Your eyes find his, and they’re full of need, his expression absolutely shameless and desperate. “Please.” He repeats. “Please let me touch you. I don’t care how. Just- god. I can't do this. Please.” 

It’s enough to make you yield. You slide off of him, and he lets out a soft, needy sound, already missing the press of you, until his breath catches at the sight of you stripping, your clothes landing somewhere off the edge of the bed without a second thought.

“You wanna touch me?” You murmur, crawling up the bed a little. 

“Yes.” He whispers, nodding.

The way he looks at your naked body, eyes fixed, hungry, reverent.. it’s almost too much. You feel dizzy from the weight of it.

You straddle his face, a thigh on either side of him whilst you hover over his face, and then you look down. “Touch me then.” You murmur.

He practically growls as his hands wrap around your thighs. “With pleasure.” 

He pulls you down entirely, effectively forcing your core against his mouth, his tongue lapping against every inch of your wet folds.

You moan, your hands coming to grasp the headboard in front of you. There’s absolutely nothing he could be thinking about, besides the taste and smell of you flooding and overwhelming his senses. 

He devours you with a single-minded focus, his tongue expertly alternating between flattening  and lapping you in slow, deliberate strokes, and quick flicks against your clit. It’s all done in service to you, Spencer thinking of the fastest way to unravel you, desperate to taste your release against his tongue– to hear you moan his name and shake above him. 

He gets his wish when another stroke of his tongue finally causes you to come, your sweet release flooding his face, and him eagerly drinking it in. He moans as he attempts to pull you even closer to his mouth (if that was even possible). 

You let out a breathy laugh as he seems to slow down, indicating the end of your session. “Spence.. Oh god. That was so good.” You try to get off him, but his grip on your thighs is iron-clad. 

“Again.” He moans. 

“What?” You ask, not sure if you heard him right. 

“Again, please.” He begs, voice broken. “I need you.” 

The absolute depravity and torment in his voice lulls you into complacency, as you assume your previous position above him. 

“Okay. Okay, baby. We can go again.” You murmur, soothingly.

He wastes no time going right back in, his tongue albeit, a little slower now, keeping in mind that you’d just orgasmed, and that you were probably still sensitive. 

He’s right to do so, little high-pitched moans and drawn out of you as you get comfortable again, despite the overstimulation.

His tongue circles your clit slowly, never properly touching it, delaying your next release. After a while of this teasing, you finally moan out his name, your hips shamelessly rocking against him. 

“Spencer, god. Please. Need to come.” You beg, feeling yourself at the edge of a small death. 

Spencer responds in kind, rapidly flicking his tongue against your swollen bud, and in record time, you’re coming again, much to his delight.  He doesn't let up until he's absolutely sure he's lapped up every single drop, not letting any of it go to waste.

“Okay, baby. I gotta get off. Gotta breathe. So do you.” You pant out, as you get off from your seat on his face.

He shakes his head, tugging you closer. 

“Please, wanna keep touching you.” He pleads, eyes teary, your release practically dripping off his chin. His hand digs into your arm with a lustful urgency.  “Please. We can go again. I know we can.” 

You yield to his request, because honestly, who could deny him right now? His hair messy, lips shiny and his voice, fractured and full of ache, barely held together. 

You nod, lying down, on the bed, motioning for him to roll on top of you. 

He rolls over and kisses you, and it’s absolutely sinful. You can taste yourself on him, moaning as your lips easily part and make way for him, the wet warmth of his tongue sliding against yours. There’s nothing held back between the two of you as your lips connect and reconnect, as his hand slowly slides down the expanse of your skin, finding your clit and beginning to rub slow circles against it. 

“Oh god, Spencer.” You moan bonelessly, feeling the effects of your previous two orgasms and the one you were hurtling towards currently taking over you. 

“Yeah?” He mumbles. “That feel good?” 

“God, yes.” You moan. “You always know how to touch me, always know how to make me feel good- oh-” 

He groans in delight as he dives in for another kiss, his fingers sliding across the slick bud even faster now, determined to make you fall off the edge for him one last time. He humps your thigh, practically desperate for some relief for his aching cock as well.

“Say my name.” He murmurs against your lips. 

“Spencer.” You wail out, in response. 

“Louder.” 

“Oh god, Spencer, please!” You groan, your body beginning to tense up with the tell-tale signs of an orgasm, your body taut like a bowstring. 

“That’s right, come for me.” He whispers, placing a sweet kiss against your collarbone, his hips continuing their rut in an attempt to chase his release as well.

And with a shout, you come, your body seizing up and succumbing to his touch, your hands wrapping around his neck in an attempt to ground yourself as you experienced the intense pleasure that could only result from being with him.

He seems to follow shortly after to the sound of your moans, a wet patch appearing on the front of his briefs.

You whimper as you come down for your orgasm, Spencer stroking your skin soothingly, peppering little kisses wherever he could reach. 

“You doing okay?” He pants out.

“Better than okay.” You murmur, folding into his embrace, feeling as if you were floating on clouds, or some other poetic description of just how light you felt in this moment. 

“I pushed you pretty hard, huh?” He mumbles, his voice tinged with a slight bit of concern. 

“Don’t worry. I deserve it for teasing you so hard." You mumble.

"Thanks for helping me study, by the way." You tack on, already feeling yourself drift off into a quiet, peaceful slumber in his arms. 

He chuckles a bit, and places a kiss against your forehead. “Glad I could make the lesson... hands-on.”

woah!!! hello!! so unfortunately, much like reader, i have also been swamped by finals :( but, this idea came to me and i decided to write it and try to make my way back to writing even a little bit more regularly. as usual, please like, reblog and comment if you enjoyed this fic. reblogs are basically the lifeline of tumblr, and if you'd like my work to reach more people, i would 10000% appreciate it so much. thank you so much for reading regardless, and i hope it was enjoyable. thank you thank thank you for all your support!!!! <333

[starcurtain]

Teyvat's "Most Down Bad" Award Goes to Alhaitham for a Second Year Running

Seeing everyone making fun of Alhaitham for his "stalkerish" tendencies in this event is funny, because I feel like a lot of people missed that "Be literally everywhere Kaveh is" has been Alhaitham's MO from the day Kaveh appeared in the game.

From only grabbing his house keys after Kaveh returned from the desert (he couldn't have had both sets of keys at the end of the Archon Quest unless he went home and got Kaveh's copy) to ditching conversations to get back to his house only after Kaveh came home, to showing up without any warning or explanation in Kaveh's hangout with some ridiculous excuse about hearing his voice through noise-cancelling headphones... Refusing to offer any help in the Temple of Silence story quest other than staying in the library with Kaveh...

Since when does Alhaitham willingly cover anyone else's duties?

But this trend of "Be everywhere Kaveh is" didn't start when they were adults. It was already in place when they were still Akademiya students--and it's a trend that didn't end even when they had their fight.

Even when they weren't speaking, Alhaitham dogged Kaveh's every step through published responses to Kaveh's research articles in academic journals. He insisted on keeping a line of communication between himself and Kaveh open, even if the only way to do that was through very public ideological clashes. Pulling Kaveh's pigtails to get his attention lolol. It's implied that, for at least the few years between their fight and Kaveh moving in, this was the only communication between them--Alhaitham's refusal to allow their connection to entirely fade away. (And the fact that this is revealed in Kaveh's character stories--through his precious journal that records the moments of his life that had the most impact on him--shows just how deeply he values the fact that Alhaitham didn't give up.)

Another relevant side note: Alhaitham never asked Kaveh to give up his half of their house. Knowing half of it belonged to Kaveh, knowing that Kaveh may one day want to reclaim his part of it, knowing that it was listed as theirs, Alhaitham moved into the house and made zero effort to change its ownership. He was completely fine with living in "his and Kaveh's house." The stories suggest it was only months later (or even longer) that Kaveh even noticed he had the house, and he transferred away ownership of his portion without Alhaitham ever asking him (or even seemingly wanting him) to do so.

Please, let that sink in. Alhaitham actively left his grandmother's (presumably comfortable) house to move into "his and Kaveh's house," with no apparent explanation for why, and after doing so, he made no attempt to change that "his and Kaveh's" label. He moved into the house with no promise that Kaveh wouldn't show up on the doorstep the very next day and move in too. It almost feels like another deliberate provocation--I've moved into our house, are you going to come stop me? LBR, if Alhaitham had had his way, Kaveh would have been living there with him from Day 1...

There's also the fact that Kaveh literally can't write on a single message board anywhere in the entire nation of Sumeru without Alhaitham hunting his messages down and responding to them (which absolutely no one else does, by the way).

"NUH-UH!" "UH-HUH." "NUH-UH!"

Alhaitham's own character stories tell us explicitly that one of Alhaitham's defining character traits is "He is never where you need him to be," yet somehow...

Shot, and chaser:

Any time Kaveh is in the slightest bit of need or danger or just wants Alhaitham near, Alhaitham is "coincidentally" exactly where Kaveh needs him to be, whenever Kaveh needs him to be there.

Alhaitham didn't just "happen" to run into Kaveh in Port Ormos, an entirely different city from where he was supposed to be working. He didn't just "happen" to read the same terrible book as Kaveh when we know he otherwise would not waste a moment of his time on poorly-written literature...

He didn't just "happen" to appear when Kaveh was upset and needed a distraction in the House of Daena during Kaveh's hangout. He didn't just "happen" to be sitting around waiting when Kaveh needed answers after the Archon Quest. He didn't just "happen" to find Kaveh's academic publications and every single message board posting and respond to them at length and in public.

Which is exactly what Kaveh's mother told Kaveh he needed.

What level of down bad is "Abusing your powers as an Akademiya employee to keep tabs on your crush's library loans"? Just asking for a friend.

The only person for whom Alhaitham just "happens" to be available is Kaveh, over and over and over again--because he is very deliberately making himself a constant presence in Kaveh's life.

(Like, out of all things, I think people really underestimate the devs deliberately paralleling the romantic relationship between Kaveh's mother and father with Kaveh and Alhaitham's relationship. If you want to point to one thing that says "These two characters are intentionally queer-coded," it doesn't get any more obvious than this.)

Alhaitham, are you not embarrassed to be this transparent??? 🫣

[hellotailor]

armand’s costumes are such an interesting data point re: his nebulous sense of identity.

when analyzing any costume, there are always many factors to consider: the setting, the character’s personal taste and economic constraints, storytelling concerns like tone and genre, etc. with armand, we also need to remember that he’s 500 years old and violently disconnected from his human origins. everything he wears has an element of disguise, selected to blend into a new environment.

armand was enslaved as a child in 16th century delhi, and barely remembers his mortal life. unlike louis - who can return to new orleans after 80 years and reconnect with his past - armand has no home to return to. his whole backstory, even his name, is rife with traumatic subtext, leaving him with an obsessive need for structure and control. this adds an extra layer of meaning to costuming choices that initially seem like straightforward menswear. 

armand’s 1940s wardrobe is very put-together - primarily three-piece suits and coats that make him look wealthier and more formal than louis, who is purposefully dressing down. most of these outfits are tailored to bulk up armand's frame, leaning into the "maitre" persona. and like his business-casual dubai wardrobe, he always leaves his collar open. when i interviewed costume designer carol cutshall, she described this as a symbolic power move, signalling that he's an apex predator who doesn't need to protect his throat.

my personal interpretation is that while armand clearly likes to look good, he has a complicated relationship with attractiveness. he doesn't always want to draw attention. his color palette is shadowy (black, grey, brown, olive green), and he’s much less flashy than the other Théâtre vamps. however when he’s feeling confident and flirty, he becomes more of a power-dresser - for instance his hunting outfit with the big coat and sunglasses, or his habit of wearing kohl.

interestingly, most of armand's 1940s costumes set him apart from the coven. the Théâtre vampires dress like cabaret performers, embracing a lot of period-specific styles. by contrast armand is more timeless and neutral. in fact, due to the relatively minor changes in men's suits over the past 100 years, there's a lot of overlap between his wardrobe in the 1940s, '70s and 2020s:

the rest of the Théâtre squad share an unofficial uniform of boldly clashing monochrome patterns with pops of bright color. meanwhile armand has a very plain wardrobe, emphasizing the image of him as a businesslike authority figure surrounded by zany artistes. he only wears subtle stripes on a few occasions in the '40s, reflecting the recurring prison motif we see in lestat's trial suit and (most famously) the dubai penthouse bedroom:

if we ask the question, "what does this person like to wear?" there are easy answers for lestat, louis and claudia. we understand their tastes, and the motives behind them. but armand is more enigmatic. we can recognize through-lines in his wardrobe, but his "taste" is dominated by whatever role he's currently decided to embody, whether that's a parisian theater director or a real estate mogul in dubai.

the times when he appears to have the most fun with clothing are when he steals a pair of sunglasses from his human dinner (!) and when he's pretending to be rashid. in other words, when he's explicitly performing for an audience. "real armand" is still a mystery.

(i may write more about armand's dubai wardrobe later, but for now, you can find all of my iwtv costumes posts on this tag!)

[yan-lorkai]

Kicks the door open I have come! to request a Self-aware AU with the Twst bois. When they and the Darling/MC/Player/S/O switch bodies. However, the Darling isn't inside the game. So it's like the Darling waking up in the boys' bodies inside the game, and the boys waking up in the Darling's body in the real world. Thankyou very much 🙏👍🫂✨

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ a/n: self-aware au, my beloved. It was so fun to write this and I wrote a lot too 🥺💓. It took me a while to finish, so I hope you like it, darling!

Azul could always feel your presence through the puppet you control. He felt calm when you looked at him. He felt delighted at every laugh you laughed, and he wanted nothing more than to be beside you. The real you. He wished really hard for it to be possible someday, not knowing that this was exactly what was going to happen. Although his request was successful, there was just one error in the equation: he was in your body, your holy, beautiful body. Which means... You were in his horrible body.

While others would feel happy (and he really is happy to an extent), Azul feels a sense of trepidation knowing that you were awaking in his body and there was no way for him to check on you. Or could he? He tried calling his own phone but it wasn't possible. Resigned, he then took to explore your room and home and if you have any roommates / lived with your parents, Azul would try get along with them and collect information on you. While this isn't the ideal, Azul still has to think ten times ahead so when he take you to Twisted Wonderland (not a matter of if but more of when), he could make you sign a deal.

By the way, he definitely try to unlock your phone. And since he is in your body, Azul may try to unlock your phone with your fingerprint or your face if your phone has that function. If he is successful Azul will read your messages as if it were a magazine, he would see what type of songs you listen and videos you like to watch, what's in your history. Basically he is your fbi agent seeing everything on your phone, there's not a thing he'll not see. Good luck for you, reader. That's why I always I always delete my history lol.

Meanwhile you. You wake up on Azul Ashengrotto's body, the octavinelle dorm leader. Geez, are you dreaming? But everything is so real and feels so real. Jade and Floyd seems so real. And their voices, mocking and teasing, almost condescending as you tried your best to act like Azul. They seemed to know that something was wrong but neither choose to ask, brushing off as you being busy with a new scam plan. You were overjoyed but also anxious, without knowing what to do. Could you even return to your body at all? Only time will tell.

⠀⠀

Jade always knew that something was strange with this world, it was almost too... Surreal? He can't quite put into words the things he feel but everything was so much clearer whenever he could feel your presence when he was studying or riding his broom. He could feel your presence when he was cooking, when he was talking about this terrariums, when he was beating people who broke their part of the deal. You seemed to favor him, to love him. He could feel your affection seeping through your cellphone. And he wished to see you, to know you as intimately as you knew him.

And that wish became real. One day he woke up in a different bedroom, in a different body, then, while he is a little surprised, Jade just brush this off as something you did. Perhaps you wanted to show him your world? You wanted to show him your life? Or were you trying to show him something else? Either way, Jade is having the time of his life in your body. Though, as if he was mesmerized by it, he caught himself looking himself at the mirror to see your face staring right back at him. He looks like an excited kid making silly faces in front of the mirror. Honestly he is so unserious. Making faces and silly dances, and laughing because of it.

⠀

Floyd is instantly thrilled, if somewhat bewildered. At first, he messes around with everything he can find, marveling at your surroundings and taking a deep dive into your belongings — he finds it all so fascinating. He’s absolutely entertained by exploring your room, your things, and all the little details that give him insight into your life. But once the novelty wears off, his mischievous nature kicks in. He wants to know everything about you — what you like, your habits, your friends — and he’s not afraid to dig deep. Floyd starts exploring your social media, searching for anything that brings him closer to you and your world. If he finds anyone he thinks might be close to you, he’s ready to make them uncomfortable with cryptic messages or odd behavior, wanting to make it clear that no one knows you better than him.

Meanwhile, you, trapped in Floyd’s body, have to navigate his spontaneous, unpredictable moods and intense physicality — whether in class, on the basketball court, or during his shenanigans. He's having the time of his life while you are fighting for yours, even more when Azul send you to squeeze some people. Like??? How are you supposed to do this????

⠀

Silver always dreamt of you. He knew you, the feeling of your love and affection, the tone of your voice, even if when he woke up he forget everything. A blurry line separating you two. For a while, he thought that you were some higher being that he created on his mind, a simple part of his imagination. That is until this magicless student come around and your presence was all over them, controlling them, talking through them. He wanted to get closer, he wished he could talk to you, to bask on your presence. But he couldn't. He couldn't break his code. Not yet.

But when he slept that night something was different. He couldn't jump into another dream, his voice was different, his height was different, then when he inched closer to the mirror, he saw. A different face. And he knew instantly that it was your face. It was a very beautiful face, exactly how he had imagined. Though it was not what he wanted. He wanted to talk to you, to tell what he felt whenever your gaze was upon him. He didn't want to be you. Or for you to be him.

⠀

Riddle wakes up in your body, feeling completely disoriented and frustrated with the lack of control he has over the new, unfamiliar world around him. But soon, the shock turns into curiosity and then into obsession as he realizes he now has full access to everything about you, your routines, belongings, even your weaknesses, and insecurities.

Riddle’s meticulous nature drives him to organize your life, make everything as “perfect” as he can, so when you’re back, it’ll be clear that he knows what’s best for you. He spends hours exploring your things, setting up strict plans, and making lists, even going so far as to cut out people he feels are a bad influence. All of this, in his mind, is for your “own good.”

In Twisted Wonderland, you’re now bound to the rules of Heartslabyul, balancing Riddle’s strict schedule, navigating his many routines, and dealing with his high standards as you struggle to maintain his reputation without causing a commotion.

⠀

Jamil is quick to adjust, immediately masking his initial confusion in favor of stealthily gathering information about your world. He keeps a low profile, but behind that calm facade, he’s strategically piecing together every part of your life, figuring out who’s important to you and how he can stay in your life even if he returns to his world. Jamil moves through your world with subtlety, observing your friends and family with a quiet intensity, noting who to trust — and who to remove from your life. He’s ready to make subtle changes to your social circle or behavior, aligning your life with what he thinks is “best.”

Meanwhile, back in Twisted Wonderland, you’re handling Jamil’s carefully hidden responsibilities, feeling the pressure of his dual life between serving Kalim and managing his own ambitions, all while trying not to slip up and reveal your true identity. It's difficult.

⠀

Kalim wakes up in your body with sheer joy and fascination, his excitement overriding any initial confusion. He’s absolutely delighted to be in your world, taking in every little detail with childlike wonder. Kalim sees this as an opportunity to become even closer to you, and he goes about learning everything there is to know about your life, friends, and family, brimming with excitement to be part of it all. He’s incredibly affectionate with anyone he meets, happy to share his thoughts, and may unintentionally end up sharing details about “you” that leave people puzzled. He can’t resist splurging a bit on your behalf, thinking he’s treating you.

As for you, adapting to Kalim’s responsibilities in Twisted Wonderland is overwhelming, as you’re thrown into his high-energy life and surrounded by his devoted friends and followers. His cheerful, social world is a whirlwind of activity and expectation, especially with Jamil by your side, assessing every move you make with a scrutinizing eye.

⠀

When Ruggie wakes up in your body, he’s initially thrown off but quickly realizes the opportunity in front of him. Instead of panicking, he takes a strategic approach, savoring every moment as he explores your life and digs into your personal world. His tendencies kick in subtly but intensely; he’s not one for grand, showy gestures, but every action is deliberate, aimed at securing his presence in your life as deeply as possible, as he changes your wallpaper for fanart of him and enters the game to level up all his cards for you.

He begins by poking through your belongings, finding small things that give him insight into your personality, routines, and friends. Ruggie is careful to go unnoticed, learning as much as he can about your relationships and keeping mental notes about anyone he thinks poses a “threat” to his place in your life. He’s not above making subtle changes, distancing you from people he dislikes and reshaping your social circle to align with his preferences, but he does so with skillful subtlety — most people won’t even realize he’s manipulating things from behind the scenes.

If you have a job, he’ll blend right in, charming your colleagues and subtly gaining their favor, leaving an impression that makes it hard for anyone to forget you. He’s naturally resourceful, too, so he takes a look at your finances, maybe even setting aside a bit of extra money “for emergencies” (which, of course, he intends to use for things he thinks you’ll need down the line).

Meanwhile, back in Twisted Wonderland, you’re adjusting to the gritty pace of Ruggie’s life in Savanaclaw. His resourcefulness is evident in every little aspect of his world — from balancing odd jobs to navigating the intense social structure under Leona’s rule. You feel the constant need to stay alert, manage his reputation, and keep up with his never-ending hustle. It’s a life of quick thinking, constant negotiation, and clever shortcuts that keep you on your toes, giving you a firsthand taste of Ruggie’s way of surviving in a world that doesn’t make things easy. You made a note to dote on him when you get back to your body, he deserves.

[infamous-if]

Mini mid-May Update

I'm so bad at being on top of these devblog things but with how long chapter four has been taken, it feels appropriate.

I'm finishing up the last of the patreon bulk content. I'm surprised by one scene that ended up over 6k words. You don't realize how long a scene is until you're returning to it lolol

Chapter 4 is at the end stages. I'm rearranging some scenes and writing out chapter 4's outline to make the chapter read more smoothly. Chapter 4 is different in the sense that it's a lot of small scenes but very punchy (to me). Compared to Chapter 2 (the first week) which to me felt like 2 big events (/photoshoot/valenreign penthouse), more happens in Chapter 4 within smaller scenes which I think I prefer. The rest of the cast makes more appearances and it comes together to make it fun to write. I get TEASED for calling chapter 3 "lighthearted" (sorry lol) but I do think Chapter 4 is a lot more laid back and fun. Getting to get more castmembers involved and expand the show is the best part of having a reality tv show if ahahah such a big cast that's fun to play with :,) Once I finish rearranging and fixing up the final scenes it'll go through some of playtesting rounds and will be in your hands soon.

All of this is much of the same stuff I've been regurgitating every update but it doesn't hurt to remind everyone just how close to done I am. I wish i had 48 hours in the day.

(PS. a lot of links on cogdemos aren't working. just add /mygame to the end and it should be fixed)

see you soon!

[meow-xine]

hiii, this has been stuck on my head for days so i just had to write it.

word count: 1.7k words

pairing: prohero!iida x afab!reader

cw: sorry this is a lot of just smut.. no real plot

not proofread, sorrryyyy :’)

ProHero!Iida who was never one for intimacy. He was always too busy with work and running his firm, never having time to look into relationships aside from the practicality that they could bring; double incomes, continuing bloodlines. They weren’t his thing.

ProHero!Iida who’s attention was captured by you, the newest hire at the firm. Something about the way you carried yourself was so captivating to the young hero.

ProHero!Iida who found himself sneaking unnoticed glances at you when he could. Making excuses to talk to you when in the office. He figured he would wait for you to take initiative, show some interest. After all, relationships weren’t his thing.

ProHero!Iida who noticed his glances getting returned, met with a smile from your pink glossed lips. Starting more idle conversations, too distracted by the sweet notes of your perfume to speak of anything notable.

ProHero!Iida who slowly works up the courage to ask you to drinks one night, having much more of a fun and special night than he could have ever expected. The mood between the two of you at work had uplifted, being much more light for the two of you.

Drinks now becoming a common meeting place for the both of you after work or on the weekends. Iida, after many pep talks in the mirror, had now begun to muster up the courage to ask you to something more formal, more personal.

“[Name]! Good thing I caught you.” Iida spoke, catching you as you were headed toward the door. “Hm?”

“Apologies, but would you..like to go to dinner with me tonight?” He trembled just a bit.

He cut the silence that followed, thinking he may have gone too far.

“Well, I understand you had a long day actually- I’m sorry for asking so soon, it must be-”

“I would love to!” You interrupted. “That sounds very fun Iida, what time works?”

He smiled, a newfound passion filling him.

ProHero!Iida who couldn’t deny the feelings he had for you anymore, especially after your dinner. Acting like an excited teen boy, letting his desires and thoughts of you consume him deep into the night, later than he would ever think of staying up. Pants and whines filled the hero’s dark room as he palmed his length through his boxers. He felt so..dirty touching himself to his dear colleague. At the same time, he couldn’t help himself. You were the first person he had felt this way about. A heavy sigh left his parted lips as he finished into a nearby towel, still thinking about you.

ProHero!Iida who, now more than ever, wanted to be around you. You had gone on multiple dates with the broad hero, your feelings growing stronger day by day, as were his. One night though, when the two of you were getting ready to leave the restaurant Iida you had just eaten at, he invited you over.

“[Name].. There is something I have been meaning to ask you. If you are comfortable with it, would you accompany me back to my house?” He avoided eye contact and rubbed his arm nervously, expecting rejection.

You were flushed, not knowing what to expect. With how you felt about him, there was no way you could say no. So, you smiled and accepted.

ProHero!Iida who led you into his home, making sure to offer any comfort he could. Drink? Blanket? Was the light too bright? Too dark? You sat down on a couch in the main room, him following next to you.

“[Name], truth be told, I don’t know exactly how to say this.” he started, “I..when I wake up in the morning I think of you. I think of you until I walk into the firm and see you smiling, and the second you’re out of sight I cannot help but let my thoughts continue. You are so dear to me, and I’m not sure I have ever felt like this for anyone. You consume my very being, and I brought you here to tell you that I, I have feelings for you. Feelings that are too strong to hide anymore.”

You couldn’t hide your smile, feeling the same exact way as him. Not to mention how sweet and personal his confession was.

“Tenya,” You paused, searching for the right words to say, “you have no idea what those words mean to me. I would be lying if I said I had no feelings for you, and it makes me so happy to hear that you feel the same.”

ProHero!Iida who couldn’t believe the words that escaped your mouth. His breath hitched, and he found himself scooting closer to you on the couch. The two of you were now painfully close, the room filled with the slow breathing coming from you. Then he asked.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

And all at once he cupped your face and met your lips with his. It started off slow, an innocent deep peck. The kiss deepened and his hands moved from your face, snaking around your waist, pulling you closer.

He pulled away. “[Name].. please,” he spoke, keeping eye contact. “I need you. Let me have you, please.” his voice was now filled with desperation. He made his way to your lips again, then your cheeks, feathering slow kisses along your jawline and down your neck.

“Tenya..” you breathed.

“Do you want me to stop?” He pulled back.

“No, keep going..please.” You whined. You knew how pathetic it sounded, but you couldn’t help the growing heat in your lower belly. You needed to feel relief.

ProHero!Iida who leads the two of you to the bedroom, laying you down. Who takes his time removing each layer of clothing, leaving small kisses in between. The sight of you under him, red and covered by nothing more than a sheer bra and matching panties.

He noticed your attempt to rub your thighs together, trying to relieve the growing pressure.

He smiled, “Let me help you.” He searched for permission in your eyes, only proceeding when you nodded yes.

He wasted no time, dipping his hand into your panties, fingers teasing at your slit. “You’re so wet [Name]..” He rubbed your slick around, finally taking one of his fingers and dipping it inside of you, curling it ever so slightly.

“F-fuck Tenya..” you cursed, embarrassed that all it took to get you hot and bothered was a single finger. He brought his other hand under your bra, prodding at the hardening bud. The combination of pleasure surging through your nerves was almost too much to handle. You already felt yourself nearing your finish. You couldn’t help but whimper under him.

He smiled, knowing he had to be doing something right, and slid another digit in. Watching your face contort as you came undone from just two of his fingers inside you. You grinded your hips down on his hand, needing that final push before you could finish. Your orgasm soon came crashing down on you.

“Oh I’m-!”

“Goooood, that’s good. Ride it out.”

He watched your body intently, noticing how your back curved as your orgasm surged through you.

Your moans were replaced with heavy breathing as he pulled his fingers out and stood up, beginning to undress. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him when he got down to just his boxers, tenting as his erection pressed almost painfully against the fabric.

And he was…big.

You too stood up and made your way over to him, first planting a kiss on his lips. Him leaning down, wrapping his muscular arms around your bare waist. Your hand travelled down, touching his erection through his boxers.

ProHero!Iida who watched your face as you pulled down his boxers, watching his throbbing cock spring up and slap his abdomen. He hissed as air hit his dick.

ProHero!Iida who wasted no time helping you remove your bra and panties, the two of you now completely bare.

You laid down, he followed, now laying next to you. “[Name].. if you don’t mind, could you follow my lead for a moment?” He asked shyly, “Of course. I trust you.”

He rolled you over on your side, his cock now pressing behind you, resting on your back.

“I’m going to enter myself now.. if you need me to stop please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

His arms locked you in place as he wrapped them around your waist tightly. Ever so slowly he put his tip in your warm entrance, moaning at the new sensation.

ProHero!Iida who was now buried deep inside you, relishing in the shape of your walls and and how perfectly they housed him. He dreamt of you, of this very experience, but you far exceeded any expectations.

ProHero!Iida who thrusted inside of you, quickening his pace gradually. Replacing the lewd wet slapping sounds with small words of praise, the position you were in making it easy for him to whisper and nibble on your ear.

ProHero!Iida who wished he could listen to nothing more but your moans and whines, see nothing more than your smaller frame unraveling with his touches.

“You’re doing so good, take it just like that..”

ProHero!Iida who makes sure you finish on his cock before he even thinks about cumming. The sweetest sounds fill his room, his ears, he wants right now to please you more than anything.

As you cum, he continues a steady pace, riding you through it. “Mhm, that’s it.” he grunts, pulling his cock out and pumping it a few times before finishing on your ass.

ProHero!Iida who rushes to draw you a bath and clean you up, preparing you a set of sleeping clothes. He bathes you, apologizing if he went overboard and still showering you with praise.

“You did so good, such a good girl for me.”

ProHero!Iida who lays down next to you, watching you until he’s sure you’re asleep. He feels he can now rest knowing you’re okay. He kisses your forehead once before nuzzling into you and falling asleep too

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hello, can I get more stories about yandere cheerleaders and the yandere soccer team ? It's okay if you don't want to write it right now. May you be happy and healthy. Be together with everyone for a longggggg time !

Yandere Cheerleaders + Football Team (2)

Last Post

The thing about having two of the most dedicated and competitive teams obsessing over you definitely means protection but it also means being the main point of their tug-of-war

While they’re more than gung-ho about chasing off anyone else at the college who’s thinking of being more than acquaintances 

When they’re aren’t bigger fish to fry they start looking at each other

“Look, we already planned to study with them so you need to back off!”

“Ha, you ‘planned’ to. We asked them already so unless you’d like to explain why we can’t hang–you back off!”

“Our Captain–!”

“Clearly isn’t updated on (Y/n)’s time. Better take your pom poms and go do that.”

“You’ll pay for this!” 

Just because the Captains who’ve headed this interest are dating doesn’t mean the animosity between their teams goes away

“That’s what they said? Really? You know your girls have a tendency to exaggerate.”

“Exaggerate!? Your muscle brains went and posted all the evidence needed. No, they did not exaggerate they asked them and you know how weak they are if they’re asked by the group! Which is why we made the rule–!”

“I know. I know. They probably were just tired of the stalling, the week started and they haven’t gotten any alone time.”

“Yeah well now they’re going to pay for it, the girls are vengeful before they are patient.”

“Can’t you stop them, we have a big game on Thursday.”

“No we have competitions on Wednesday and if the girls don’t have their blood our competitors are going to get more than just their butts kicked. And I refuse to bribe those judges anymore. ”

“Please baby just this once.”

“No.”

“...”

“...”

“Alright guess we’ll have to duke this out later.”

“Yeah, now do you want to invite them over for takeout or go over to theirs for takeout?”

“Oooh, we haven’t been in a while! Let’s go to theirs!”

They do end up agreeing amicably

But that doesn’t mean the teams do

Whoever’s turn it is as decided by the Captains is always happier

It’s the ones who don’t that begin to talk amongst themselves

“I love our captain but he’s such a pushover!”

“Yeah, a leader should be a leader over his woman too!”

“But have you seen the cheer captain? She’s scary!”

“Yeah but the question comes up at some point who do you love more? The witchy cheer chic or (Y/n)?”

“That’s an obvious answer for me!”

“(Y/n) all the way!”

The cheer team is no different, barely waiting for their captain to leave the bathroom before scoffing

“I can’t believe she screwed us over again.”

“Hate to say it but did you really think she’d hold her ground to him?”

“Yeah, you guys remember that one ex right? She abandoned us back in Summer just for his that greaser wannabe.”

“Hmmm true…Hey do you guys think she’d dumb Captain manscape if (Y/n) asked?”

“Oooh that might be fun to find out!”

But despite how malicious it sounds the heart of those teams knows not to act they know better

… or most of them

There’s one or two in both teams that break 

Usually hinting at the cheer captain’s doing something awful to you

Cheating on the other or talking bad about you to the new students you’ve been trying to be friends with

While they’ll swoon in the moment because you’re hanging off their every word it never lasts

By the time they return to fraternity or sorority, the dream is over

And they're about to feel the worst and last pain in their life

“Look ladies here’s someone who’s threatened our flock…MY flock. New Girl!”

“Yes, Captain!”

“What do we do with the mockingbirds?

“We push them out the nest?”

“Very good!”

On the cheer squad, a simple alone time or texting without informing two other cheerleaders is humiliation by way of social media

Flirting with you earns a spanking by the vice leader

And attempting to undermine the captain…well let’s say the Cheer team is careful to wear  their running mascara when one of their teammate's severed hand appears a couple of miles off campus

No one really knows exactly what happens

Just that the only thing that identifies their old teammate is the obscure telltale feature

Like the green manicured nail on her index, the only one not torn off 

As for the Football Team they tend not to make it too imaginative

NOT because they aren’t smart…they just don’t need to be that creative with it

Plus they’re not that great at cleaning their own messes

“Captain, can I do the honors? I’ve got something special for our…dear friend.”

"Go for it."

“Edibles, the big M, a couple of high-grade stuff from our pharma buddies, and for an extra touch something out of this world to make sure you regret all that you’ve done.”

They’re big fans of injection

Holding the offender down and give one two three if they’re awful shots and then letting them loose

On a club’s rooftop, or a dodgy club, or even on their football field 

it’s just the horrible drugs that leave them totally unaware by the rabid dog pack or the unfenced edge or the sketchy people hovering near them

It’s textbook after all that kids too focused on their careers just get lost in the drugs

A shame that this pandemic isn’t exempt from infesting Energi University

It’s a little sloppy because they don’t always die

But thanks to their indulgent cocktails they sure won’t be remembering or even capable of getting a proper sentence out

“Honey, I wanted to congratulate you on that good catch you did. I was really impressed with that blend.”

“Thanks, babe but don’t think I didn’t notice how you killed that cheer!”

“....Are you guys talking in code because I really don’t get it.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it hon! Now about that takeout.”

“Yeah babe, we’ll pay for it and put on a movie or somethin’.”

“Oh but then it’ll be dark and even if your together I wouldn’t want you guys out there with all the danger around campus lately.”

“Then we’ll stay over!”

“Wait–”

“Yeah, it’s cool we don’t mind cuddling up with you.”

“Yup! Not at all!”

“Uh okay I guess.”

“Oh also you’re free to come to our practices right?”

“Yeah, both teams have been missing you real bad.”

Thanks for the well wishes anon! 🖤🖤🖤🖤 Rules | Kofi | Commissions

[player380]

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- disco pang pang

━━━ ↳ ❝ [ se-mi x f! reader ] ¡! ❞

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ PART TWO in which you try out the infamous disco pang pang ride with your friends in incheon, south korea, and end up having the ride moderator attempt to set you up with the stoic, pretty woman sitting next to you┊2.1k words

contains: potential ooc se-mi (we don't really know too much about her but my hyperfixation has deluded me to believe my own headcanons that were created by the bit we saw her in s2), fluff, some minor hints of sexual content, wlw, teaser x teased, & non-canonical nonsense, au!! the games never took place & se-mi is lowkey loaded (which i may write more about in another fic idea i have oops), i also am not very sure of any korean customs (im a white american) so please please please let me know if any of the manners of this are wrong so i can correct it, also this has not been proofread yet so enjoy any spelling or grammar errors <3

After much debate with your close girl friends, that you were on a trip into the big city with, they had practically dragged you to the long line of awaiting people to try out this silly ride. Each of their hands clasped tightly around your sweaty palms, forcing your feet to shuffle into your spot at the back of the line. It was a warm spring day, the sun beating down only to be combated by a pleasant breeze. So, of course, most would find themselves spending the day at the Wolmi Theme Park in South Korea. The three of you had already spent the majority of the day entertaining yourselves with other rides, though with yourself often choosing to opt out of riding many--given rollercoasters had a habit of making you queasy. Yet, after much convincing and deliberation, you had allowed them to take you on this ride. They had claimed that it wasn't that scary, and was oftentimes quite fun. But as you got into line and saw the ever-moving ride your stomach dropped and your face paled. Laughter and screams echoed around as the current set of riders were being bounced up and down whilst the ride spun everyone in round in differing speeds. As you watched this, you couldn't help but feel the corn dogs you just had thirty-minutes prior rising their way through your innards.

While you stood there, mouth agape, your friends had busied themselves with calling their boyfriends back home in the countryside. Snapping you out of your scared daze, was a smooth laugh from beside--even smoother words following in pursuit.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," a woman laughed from beside you, your eyes narrowing as they traveled up the body beside you in line. Taking notice of her skinny ripped black jeans, the loose tank top that had a bit of the side tucked into the waistband of her jeans, and a black leather jacket over her shoulders. Her face was adorned in few piercings: just one silver ring on her lip, the other a silver ring on her left nostril (a gem-incrusted sun on where the ring met the visible skin). Her hair was short, some strands of her black hair covering the right side of her head slightly. Her narrow features complimented her stylistic choices. And by all means: the woman was completely, and utterly gorgeous.

After a few minutes of silence, your eyes only widening upon seeing the pretty woman, she spoke up again. "Are you alright? Surely you haven't actually seen a ghost," she replied, her thin brows furrowing slightly as she stared at you--her head cocked to the side just a hair. She was concerned for your wellbeing. How cute.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," you blinked, snapping out of your haze and returning your gaze to the still-moving ride--swallowing hard. "I just don't like rides like this," you added and nodded awkwardly. "Not really my thing."

The woman beside you nodded, letting out a quiet hum as her gaze follows yours up to the ride. "It's not that bad," she commented, letting out a quiet laugh. "Just make sure to hold on tight."

"What?" You asked, misunderstanding her words and her eyes widening slightly.

The woman laughed harder, shaking her head. "The bars, hold on tight to the bars," she corrected, tilting her head. "Or your friends."

You suddenly felt the presence of your two friends who had gotten off facetime with their partners, and were now standing beside you once more--staring at the taller woman with slightly furrowed brows. The woman just nodded once, before turning back around and facing the front of the line. Leaving you to suffer the teasing looks and questions from your friends for the remainder of the wait in line.

Eventually, after growing slightly impatient from standing still for so long, it was finally your group's turn to file onto the circular ride. The eager group of riders all excitedly piled on, sounds of annoyed groans coming from the people who were cut off and had to wait another round.

Your friends rushed to a spot, sitting on the seats and giggling excitedly. Their hands reached behind themselves to grab the plastic and metal bars--wrapping their arms around the slick material in hopes to stay (mostly) still throughout the ride.

You sat there awkwardly, trying to mimic your friend's actions but you found yourself struggling to keep yourself comfortable. You didn't realize the woman who was in front of you in line was sitting beside you until you felt her hands gently guiding your arms to wrap around the bars--her hand resting there for a moment and looking over you.

"Comfy?" She asked you, raising a brow slightly.

Your face, now red, moved up to meet her gaze--nodding awkwardly. "Yeah, thanks," you said, voice quiet, and pressing a small smile up as another bout of gratitude. Her dark eyes traveled over you for a second, smiling and giving a nod back. She moved to sit beside you, leaving the width of a person and a half between you two.

Unfortunately for your humility, the ride moderator had noticed the small interaction and so once the ride started slowly spinning--your face all but heated when you heard the moderator's loud voice call out your descriptor over the speakers. Little did you know the running internet joke that if the moderator called you out, you were done for.

"Are you two together?" The male moderator's voice called out, "you, tweed skirt and the h/c hair. And you, short black hair and the leather jacket," he described. Your heart all but dropped. Before you could reply, the woman next to you beat you to it:

"No, we aren't," she yelled, her voice loud over the mechanics of the machine and the loud sounds from around the theme park.

"Do you want to be?" The moderator called out, a hint over amusement carrying over in his voice.

You shook your head, laughing awkwardly. "No, no it's okay. I came here with my friends," you replied, brows furrowing in embarrassment--trying to ignore the giggles from your friends beside you.

"Ah, no, no, let me fix that," the moderator said, laughing, and your heart dropped from his mischievous tone.

Suddenly, the ride was tilted all the way to the left side and began bouncing slightly. Lifting you up and down from your seat, your sweaty hands barely holding onto the plastic bars as gravity tried to pull you to where the woman beside you was sitting. She seemed to keep her body planted firmly--hardly moving. The ups and downs got harsher, and before you knew it, one of your arms slipped from the bar and you fell slightly down to your left. You felt another leg wrap around yours--realizing it was the woman's, who was trying to keep you steady so you didn't fall.

You grunted as you moved to steady yourself back onto the seat, pulling your leg from hers and attempting to grab back onto the bars. Before you could succeed, another unexpected bump made your other arm slip--letting out a yelp as you stumbled off the seat and about to start rolling on the metal floor of the ride. You didn't go very far before you found your body ensnared by both the woman's legs--holding your torso tightly as to make sure you didn't fall anymore.

As the bumps continued, you felt one of her hands grab your arm and pull you up--setting you on her lap. Your face burned with embarrassment and awkwardness at the entire situation--wishing you hadn't even let your friends convince you to get on this stupid ride to begin with. Her legs entangled with yours, an arm wrapping around your waist and pressing your back tight against her front. Her fingers found purchase on your hip, pressing into the part tightly.

"Are you okay?" She asked, tilting her head so her mouth was right next to your ear, her voice quiet. God was her voice attractive.

You nodded, the consistent bumps making the two of you rise up from your seats occasionally--but your landings were cushioned by the woman's body beneath you. It was almost strangely nice. No. You shouldn't think like that. She was an entire stranger. "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks," you replied, turning your head slightly--though not realizing how close your faces would be. You quickly turned your head back around forward--your cheeks the color of a tomato.

As the ride continued on, the moderator still continued to pick on the two of you, moving you two around. Even with the woman's firm grip on your body, you had somehow ended up turned around--your legs straddling her hips. Her jacket had been moved to wrap around your waist so no one could see how your skirt rid up, allowing some form of modesty. There were some other instances of other people flailing around and landing on others, however you could hardly pay any mind to the others on this ride given your situation. This continued on throughout the ride's duration, before eventually the machine came to a stop--the moderator thanking everyone, though still finding a way to insert a tease about the two women's interactions throughout the ride.

You shakily got off of the woman--pulling your skirt down and untying the jacket around your waist, holding it back out to her. "Um, thanks for this. And for making sure I don't fall," you muttered, looking down at your feet. When she took the jacket, you quickly took off and found your friends at the exit of the ride--trying to ignore the burning throughout your body as their incessant teases fueled your embarrassment.

Before you could get far, a female voice called out and you turned around--your eyes widening as the woman before approached, slightly out of breath from the small jog. Your friends looked at each other with raised brows, both backing away to leave you two to yourselves.

"Oh-- um, hi," you said, brows furrowing slightly. "Did you need something?"

"How long are you in Incheon for? Or do you live here?" She asked, her chest still rising up and down with rapid breaths. She almost sounded hopeful, and a bubbly filling filled your stomach. As if someone had opened a cage of butterflies between your ribcages.

You blinked, looking away from her for a moment. "No, I don't live here. Just visiting with my friends... but I'm not sure. A couple more days, at least. We didn't really have an end date. Why?" You asked, licking your lips slightly--and you watched as her eyes flickered to your slightly damp, pink lips for a moment before she looked back up at your eyes.

"Let me take you sight-seeing around the city, yeah?" She asked, despite her cool demeanor, she almost seemed nervous. "You don't have to, but it'd--"

"Sure," you cut her off, flashing an almost-nervous smile of your own. "I'd like that, my friends and I aren't really super knowledgeable around anyway. I'm sure they'd like it too."

Her face flickered with some unknown expression and she shook her head. "No, not them. Just you... and I," she said, sucking in a long breath.

"Oh," you breathed, your brows raising. "Yeah, my answer is still the same. I would like that," you answered, emphasizing the 'I' in your sentence. The woman nodded, any nervousness or tension immediately lifted from her demeanor.

"Good," she said, grinning. "Let me get your number," she said--pulling out her phone from her back pocket, opening it, and shoving it in your direction with the screen showing an empty contact form to fill out. You nodded, and took the phone to begin typing in some things in each slot. "I'm Se-mi, by the way," she added, her eyes watching you intently--studying every and all aspect of your face.

Once you finished, you looked back up at Se-mi and handed her phone. "Well... just give me a message, Se-mi. I should be free, well, if I can ever escape those two for a moment," she laughed, tilting her head back to where her friends stood--watching the two of you interact with large grins.

Se-mi nodded, watching your form retreat as you handed her phone back and went back to your friends who immediately began pestering you for information on your new 'hot date', as they called it. She looked back down at her phone, studying your name on the contact--trying to burn it into her memory.

"Y/n...," she said slowly, nodding as she enjoyed the feel of it on her tongue. Knowing full well she was going to be saying that name for a long time. Or, well, at least she hoped.

Who knew your friends dragging you onto a silly ride could lead to any of this.