#Yes he does his make up and has blue hair and pronouns

[kaiserposting]

The genderfuckery of Michael kaiser evades many cisheteros Im afraid

[twi-liight]

Sooo. You just posted Petty Jealousy 20 mins ago and I just wanted to say that I loveeee itttt. Can we please have more? Like Astarion and the other companions subtly do somethings to the person they’re jealous of to turn them away from Tav.

Tav’s companions are just sooo cutee when they’re jealous. Wyll and perhaps, Halsin being the only sensible ones.

Thank you!

Red With Envy ❣

The YA love heptagon of the century: Tavrem. ❥ Astarion/Tav, Gale/Tav, Lae'zel/Tav, Companions/Tav. It's Gale/Astarion if you squint. ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav. ❥ Tav is the nickname for the reader/oc insert. Their real name is up to you! ❥ PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Astarion would never beseech himself to touch a member of the working class, but things change. People change. And here he is draping an arm around Gale’s shoulders to boldly declare his presence upon the rickety, wooden table. 

“Oh.” Blink blink. Gale gawks with round eyes, then not-so-discreetly glances away from Astarion’s heavy gaze to the only present company at the table: salted bread with thick slices of white cheese, anchovies, and sop for the bread. This sorry excuse of a presentation must be breakfast, which begs the question- Is Gale’s blood so blue that he cannot skip a meal or is he trying to make a favorable impression? 

Astarion would much prefer the former. It means he does not need to scrub his hands raw from the filth of peasants after this interaction.

“Uh, good morning, Astarion.” 

“Mm?” He flashes his fangs to grin. “A good morning indeed, my friend. How lovely the dawn breaks over the horizon, but with no one to share the scenery with! I pitied you, and out of the kindness of my heart, opted to join you.” 

Alright, enough touching. Astarion draws his arm back to poise a curled hand beneath his chin, glancing over Gale’s face in a vain attempt to study him. “Well-combed hair. Your posture,” he raises his hand to gesture at the wizard, “is much cleaner than yesterday. You’re practically glowing with morning dew, and…”

Here, he leans forward, just enough so that his nose lingers on the curve of Gale’s neck, just so his hot breath hits his skin as he murmurs, “You smell like Tav.” 

This greedy bastard slept in their tent last night because he caught some sickness from meandering about gaseous spores, and Tav cannot ignore the needy. Would that Gale be some beggar on the road and not an accomplished wizard with a higher emotional maturity than he.  

Astarion would be more comforted if he was a one night stand, a quick romp for the leader of their party to take the edge off. But anything beyond that is sabotage for his best-laid plans. 

Astarion’s smirk curls as deep, roiling darkness tug at his mind. He leans back slowly, never breaking eye contact. “They let you sleep in their tent. What a darling.” While they slept by the fire, ash and dirt swirling in their hair, Gale was embraced in Tav’s blankets and scarves. The lingering scent of something floral sticks on his skin, and Astarion recognizes it as the oleander Shadowheart presented Tav a fortnight ago. 

Gale smells something else: rusty and metallic, like the smell of a storm brewing. Has Astarion’s eyes deepened in color, like wine? His tongue feels heavy in his mouth all of a sudden. “Yes,” he agrees, thinking of Tav for some semblance of comfort. “I was sick, and they offered their tent for the night. More blankets, they said. Easier to be warm in - look, Astarion, do you have a problem with my friendship with Tav?” 

The laugh that pushes its way forcibly out of his sneering lips is sharp and mocking. Something burns in his chest, and it feels like seething anger. “My, that’s a strong word. I would say acquaintance is more befitting of your,” Astarion gestures to Gale once more, fighting back a scowl, “station. You’ve known Tav for barely a few months - they’re not quick to brand just anyone as a friend.” 

“Is that right?” Gale’s brown eyes spark with challenge. What a doll. Finally got his spine. “I ought to wonder how you befriended them, then. Anyone with half a mind knows your shenanigans are acts of desperation; you want them to like you so you can manipulate them. I know your type, Astarion.” 

“And you… You, what, you are not? You’re using Tav just as much as I am, darling. Otherwise, what are you here for? Companionship? Ha!” Astarion does not know why, but his entire being is alight. As if the sun’s rays are scorching him. He can barely contain his temper, barking out between sharp teeth, “Get a grip.” 

Gale is hardly fazed. “You’re delusional. Whatever threat you think I present to you?” He lifts his chin, eyes alight with power and rage. “Confront it. Dig your grave. Lie in it. While you’re busy lurking in the shadows, waiting for the opportune moment to dance them around your little games, guess where I will be?” 

Silent, seething anger. It burns. Astarion’s eyes are blown wide with rage as he gazes into Gale’s eyes, digging his nails into his palm as his fingers wrap around the hilt of his dagger. 

“There to catch them when they realize everything you’ve done is just an act.” Gale leans forward this time, a warning blazing in his brown eyes. “Think whatever you wish of me, Astarion, but never in your life think I would never fight for those I cherish.” 

Cherish. Astarion almost sinks his teeth in his throat to shut him up. “Good,” he purrs, fighting every urge not to massacre Gale where he sits with his dingy little breakfast. “I would be sorely disappointed if you succumbed too easily to me.” 

This would be so much easier if Astarion didn’t care about losing Gale, either. If he must concede, Astarion can admit to himself and the Devil alone that Gale is beyond useful in battle. Herald of the Weave, Mystra’s little boytoy? He would be endeared to watch Gale’s story end. Whether it be in smithereens or in the bosom of his former goddess, it will be fun to watch. 

Something in the back of his mind gnaws at his anxiety that Gale will be the one to turn Tav against him. This pretty little fool never wanted him in the party, wary of him, which is the smart thing to do. Tav was not. Tav was too easy to trust him. To easy to ply around his fingers until he had them even offer up their blood. 

He resents Gale for making space in their heart. It could have been his. 

“The dawn rises as I do: strong, and watching over two bread boys exchanging heated words like knives.” Lae’zel’s voice, sleek and smooth, startles them. Gale visibly jolts away from his proximity to Astarion’s face, brown eyes widening as Lae’zel approaches the table. She takes one gander at the spread, grabs a fistful of anchovies, and shoves it down her mouth without care. 

“You,” Gale stammers. “That was for–” 

“Silence. Githyanki must feed well to prepare for the new day. I will not hear your incoherent mumbling, wizard.” Lae’zel at least has the decency to chew with her mouth closed. She gulps the food, grips her fingers around Gale’s mug of watered down wine, and downs it with a tilt of her head. 

Astarion pouts. “We were having a moment, dearest Lae’zel. Now, I love to tease Gale as much as you, but it is my turn to press on Gale’s pretty little nerves until he explodes. He does not need to be,” he flares a hand out to Lae’zel, who is still downing the disgusting concoction with impressive concentration, “hounded.”

Gale looks confused. Astarion thinks that is not a state he often experiences. “Thank you?” 

And now he’s grateful? Astarion regrets his string of words in the last five seconds. They should go back to fighting.

Lae’zel slams the mug down on the table, perishing the rest of Astarion’s train of thought. She wipes the drink from her lips with her arm, thinks for a second, then nods, resilience plain in her expression. “I must warn you: distractions outside of our goal will be our end. I will not fail to cut either of you down if you produce disappointing results. However.”

There’s a ‘however’? Gale and Astarion exchange a glance, the animosity between them gone, replaced with more confusion. “I think you may be misunderstanding,” Gale begins. “Astarion and I-” 

“You two are lovers,” Lae’zel says with the confidence of a thousand burning suns. Astarion has never wished for that to be more true. He wants to be eviscerated where he sits right now because he cannot pick up his jaw from the ground. 

Gale looks like he just swallowed a rat. Like he is seconds away from throwing up. He needs a moment, experiencing vicious whiplash from wanting to kill Astarion to now, wanting to kill Lae’zel. “You— huh.”

“I support this companionship,” nods the githyanki sagely. 

“You are a bloody fool.” 

“No. I am efficient. Two of my enemies have been wiped off the playing field, which means there is less competition.” Hands on her hips, Lae’zel looks at the campgrounds proudly. “Make love to each other loudly.” She jerks her head over her shoulder, a sneer twisting her sharp features as she looks at them. “Try to drown out my name from Tav’s lips tonight, for I will be taking their hand and heart.” 

No fucking way. An oversight on his part. How could he have been so blind? Of course Tav is desired, not just by him or Gale, but by everyone else in the damn camp! This is much more troublesome than he realized. Fine, then. He should prioritize the rational thinkers like Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart and– oh, Karlach. Not darling Karlach. She would never turn Tav against him, would he? 

Fine. Halsin and Lae’zel can go first. 

“Momentary truce?” Gale offers. 

“You read my mind, handsome. Lae’zel, darling! Come back over here - we just want to talk.” 

❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3

[cattynamie]

Babysitting with Leona Kingscholar

+ Cheka.

Author's note : I've had this idea for a while and i'm actually going to embrace it this time :3, AGAIN. i had to do a little research on Cheka's character, so i hope i got him and Leona correctly.

Warnings : None! Completely SFW and anyone can read if they want. Also, the reader has no specific pronouns as far as im aware and can or can not be seen as Yuu! The choice is up to you ;)

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At first, Leona wanted to keep you away from Cheka as long as it was possible. Mostly because he doesn't want his brother smothering over you or asking you to tag along everytime there's a family dinner... Is it selfish wanting to keep your attention on him? Nah, he doesn't think so, you two are dating after all.

So, once in a blue moon, Leona text his brother asking when is Cheka coming over to avoid Cheka from meeting you personally as his partner. And also accidentally making Farena think that Leona's asking because he misses the little rascal (Yes he does, but just a bit and he'll never tell that to anyone.)

So Farena lies and tells him that Cheka's coming next week on Friday. And just decides to send Cheka that same day just to surprise Leona. Unknowingly to Leona, of course. Who was just having his nap number 427 BUT!! this one was special. You had managed to finish your school work in time and decided to take a nap beside Leona. (Which ended up being completely smothered by his body while he layed comfortably on top of you, but you had already gotten used to it at this point, but if you had some problem breathing, you'll just have to pat his back a couple times to change sleep positions.)

That is until Leona starts to hear impatient knocks on the door, almost a if they were hitting the door with both of their fists. Making one of his ears twich and his tail sway in annoyance before he grumbles an "What now?" Loud enough for the person to hear but still smothering your face with his body so you don't hear.

As a response, the door flies open, revealing the so called rascal with sun hair color and slightly tanned skin with a bright smile on his face at the sigh of his Uncle Leona who lies flabbergasted at the sight of the youngling, quickly putting all of his weight on you and smothering you awake before using the blankets to cover your figure.

"Uncle Leona! I finally found you!"

At the sudden raisse of voice, you start to fight Leona in order to geth the blanket that of in front of your face. (You were suffocating ;()

"You- What are you doing here?!" Leona growls as he continues to hold you down, hiding you from the sight of his nephew and suffocating you affecionately <3

"Weren't you supposed to come next week?!"

"Yeah! But you missed me and i also missed you! So i couldn't just wait anymore!" Cheka says with a bright smile as he jumps on Leona's bare back with a laugh, making Leona distracted as he let's go of the blanket and you pull it down, taking a fistfull of air as you try to push air back to your lungs.

Unknowingly to you, Leona was staring down at you curiously with wide eyes as he hold firmly from Leona's back.

"You're one of my Uncle's friends?"

And that was the last thing you heard before you were smothered by the youngling too.

-

As soon as Cheka found out who you were, he wanted to run to his attendants and tell them EVERYTHING.

When his plan were instantly thwarted by Leona who grabbed the back of his shirt and lifted him up to the air significantly before he could run and speak about the both of you to the attendant's.

Leona already knew that he could not buy Cheka's silence with ANYTHING but if he was going to tell, he'd rather Farena finding out late at the night. (so he can ignore his messages with a excuse.)

In order to keep Cheka busy, you offered a friendly chess game, which Cheka instantly agreed to spend time with his uncle, and Leona... was not so pleased with it, but he'll make the sacrifice.

So, it basically was you and Cheka vs THE Leona himself.

Cheka didn't really know how to play correctly (And you aren't that much a great player either...), so it was Leona's duty to teach you both correctly. (Not that he'd let you both win, but he did teach you both helpfull strategies so he doesn't or anyone win instantly.)

After that, you let Cheka rant all about his hometown as he lays on Leona's stomach while he plays with his braids. (Which you're kind of grateful for since Leona doesn't really speak about it) While youre massaging Leona's head in your lap.

...Which quickly lead on into Cheka and Leona playfighting on the bed. With a little bit of struggle, Leona managed to win the fight (unsurprisingly) and just slumped into the bedsheets because "He was already tired". Luckily, the little rascal grews tired too and slumps into Leona's back too, earning a groan from Leona as he grabs your elbow and starts to tug you into lay down too.

And you three ended up sleeping until the evening <3 Until a soft knock comes and an attendant peeks his head into Leona's room, saying that its time for the young prince to go home, (trying not to ask about your sleeping form as much as they can) But as soon as Leona steped out of the door, Leona could hear how he starts to tell them EVERYTHING about what you all did today.

With a soft groan and a sway of his tail, he embraces you once again and not EVEN ten minutes later, Farena tarts to spam message's into his brother's phone about you. Just as expected, Leona ignored them all and threw his phone at the other side of the bed, snugling his fcae into your neck as you both drift up to sleep <33

-

OKAY that's all!! i had fun writing for this too, a great wy to pass tijme. once again, please forgive me if i got any of the character's wrong in this post, any kind of note or criticism will be very well welcomed!! thank you for anyone who's reding this i love you xoxo byeeeeeeee!1!!!!11!!

[olderthannetfic]

I don't get my fandom. They want more queer rep. The main cast is a bisexual femme woman with a preference for women, an aroace gender-indifferent AMAB man, a genderfluid all-pronouns using AMAB person with a beard who wears a dress, and a biromantic asexual bigender AMAB man who is agender + male. The supporting cast has a lesbian girl, a middle-aged ace het woman living semi-romantically with another woman who is the main cast's (emotional) adoptive mom, and a ambiguously queer character whose gender is never really confirmed or discussed.

A big criticism I also see is "the writing team is all cishet". One, we don't know that, someone could be closeted. Two, why is that a problem? I think it's great that they went, "this makes sense for who this character is. We don't have to force them to be cishetallo just because that's what you normally see in animation. Web animation can be different. This is who this person is and that's fine."

I'm 19. I talked to my half brother, who is 38, about this and he actually choked on his coffee. He said when he was my age, nothing like this was easily accessible for him. It would have been jaw-dropping representation for him. I asked about the writers being cishetallo and he said, "who fucking cares? I would've moved Heaven and Earth to see these characters hanging out and just fucking existing back then!"

I know you get a metric fuckton of asks, but I'd love to hear your take on this. You've been in the queer community way longer than I have (I've barely started interacting with queer people IRL; I grew up in rural Wyoming) and I do wonder what this debacle looks like to people in other age groups. I'd also be curious to know what older people would've thought if they'd seen this friend group in media when they were younger. I know it means a lot to me. But I feel like I don't get what it would have meant back then.

--

Well, written up like this, it might get an eye-roll for sounding like Captain Planet casting. (You know "One of A and one of B and one of C" in a way that feels kind of forced.)

But yes, I think most older queer people when looking at the actual canon would be like "Sweet! A cast full of queer characters!"

I grew up somewhere shockingly liberal for the 90s next door to some old, married lesbians (who still live there, as it happens). It still sucked for teenagers. I had an okay time, but I was always hearing about other teens having an awful time even as the adults in the same communities did okay. And that's a very, very good version of what it was like in the 90s.

I did have access to queer media, vastly more access than most teens had. It was still mostly art films, boring coming out memoir, and The Pain of Being a Minority serious literature. What I wanted was genre fiction with a romance b-plot between queer characters I found hot. There was a bit of that, but not much.

I don't know that I personally would have killed for the exact set of queer rep in a modern show, but that makes sense. There are plenty of identities that present about the same but where people have internal reasons for choosing one or another. There are different forces making one queer identity or another more embattled at a given point in time. So while broadly similar queer people have always existed, there actually are fads in identity to an extent. (This is different from "wharrgarbl, the blue hairs with their pronouns!!!", which is just people being ahistorical assholes.) Modern media does and should reflect these differences. It might be for me, but it's going to be for 40-something me, not teenage me if it's coming out right now. If it's for current teens, it's not for teen me.

But yeah, in a general sense, I agree with your brother: "Damn, we have so much today! That's cool!"

The kvetching is usually people being angry that it's not representing their exact slice of queerness instead of someone else's. Or, let's be honest, a lot of it is "You didn't make my ship happen! How dare?!" dressed up as activism.

...

One thing I will say is that teenagers were extremely dramatic in my day too, and black-and-white thinking was just as common. Looking a gift horse in the mouth is not new. Yes, your fandom is full of idiots, but I wouldn't read too much into it.

[froggibus]

Sated at Last - Mammon

Pairing: Mammon x f! reader (reader uses female pronouns and has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: after finding out you’re a virgin, Mammon is determined to change that

CW: cherry chaser Mammon, reader is super innocent, virgin!reader, loss of virginity, protected sex (yeah, that’s right B), fingering, P/V, (very hurt/comfort of me tbh), very very slight dacryphillia, soft dom! Mammon, aftercare!!, kinda just wholesome and fluffy

its been a while since i wrote any obey me but idk i thought this idea would be kinda cute + mammon lives in my head rent free lol

————

“Wouldn’t that hurt?” You scrunch up your eyebrows at the sex scene playing on the tv. 

“Wouldn’t what hurt?”

“That position, the way they’re…doing it,” you look at Mammon seriously. 

Mammon tilts his head and gives you a lopsided grin, “you mean missionary?”

“Yes?”

He chuckles. “You’ve never done it missionary?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’ve never done it at all,” you admit. 

You say it so casually and then go back to laying in the crook of Mammon’s arm, your head resting on his chest. 

Fuck, is all the demon can think. He was already infatuated with you, much to his dismay, but your confession has only made it worse. And looking at him with those goddamn doe eyes and asking about sex? He’s so gone. 

He’s grateful you’re too focused on the movie to see the pink tinge to his ears or the strain of his pants. He tries to focus back on the movie, but all he can think about is you and how innocent you are and how sweet you would taste. 

— 

After that night, you’re all he can think about. When he’s studying, when he’s working, even at the fucking dinner table. All he can think about is spreading you out and claiming you before some guy with less honorable intentions does. 

He’s your first man, it’s his job to look out for you. He’s just looking out for you. That’s all. There’s nothing else to it—you’ll get eaten alive in the Devildom if they smell that innocence on you. 

It doesn’t help that you seem to follow him around wherever he goes. You cling to his side at dinner, spend more time in his room than you do in yours, and even hang out at his work while he’s working. The only y/n free hours he gets are when he’s sleeping, and even then he dreams about you. 

“Are you okay?” You tilt your head at the white haired demon.

You’re laying on his couch on your stomach, watching him play video games on the floor. 

“Hm?” Mammon snaps out of his daze, blue eyes meeting yours. 

“You’ve been kinda…off, lately.”

He shrugs, “I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

“What’s on your mind?”

With impeccable timing, just as Mammon finishes his level and properly looks up at you, the strap of your bra slips down your shoulder. The thin piece of fabric makes his face flush, and with the way he’s reacting to it, you’d think he saw a glimpse of your panties or something. 

“I think,” he sighs. What can he even say to not sound like a total creep? “I-I just need some alone time.”

“Alone time?”

He tugs on his hair in frustration. “Y-you’re so clingy, y/n!”

Your jaw falls open at his words, and there’s an icy feeling spreading inside of you. Clingy? He’s calling you clingy? He’s the only person in the entire Devildom that you feel safe with. The only person you want to be around. 

“I just…I don’t have any other friends here,” your shoulders slump and those cute doe eyes fill up with tears. 

Mammon knows he fucked up as soon as he sees the dejected look on your face. “Gimme some space, y/n.”

You don’t say anything else before you run for the door, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. Mammon watches you leave, and he hates the way it makes his heart hurt. 

Still, it needed to be done. He hates the thoughts he has about you, hates how possessive he feels over you, hates how greedy he is. How he just wants to ruin your innocence for his own selfish gain. 

People really are right about him. 

It only takes an hour before you’re knocking on his door, eyes puffy with tears. Mammon takes his sweet time shuffling to the door, trying to build up the courage to look you in the eye. 

“Mammon,” your voice is soft and low. 

Mammon curses himself for the way his cock swells at the sight of the tears on your face. He’s supposed to protect you from guys like him, but here he is, getting all worked up over your tears and virginity. 

He opens the door, looking down at you seriously. You look up at him, and despite how he had treated you earlier, you still look at him like he hung the moon.

“I just—just want to know what I did wrong,” you say. 

He opens the door wider, “how about you come in?”

You quietly pad into his room, settling down on the couch like you always did. You draw your knees into your chest, waiting for him to sit across from you. 

“I-I’m sorry for being sucha jerk lately,” he says. “I’ve been…struggling, with some personal stuff.”

“Personal stuff? Is everything okay?”

Damn you for being so cute and understanding. He adjusts his pants, taking in a deep breath. 

He can’t meet your eyes, his cheeks flushing. “D’you remember when we were watching that movie a few weeks ago?”

You pause for a minute and he swears he can see the gears turning in your head. You blink a few times, trying to remember. “Do you feel weird because I asked about sex? I’m sorry if I invaded any boundaries and—”

“I feel weird because you said you’re a virgin.”

He looks anywhere but you, his face absolutely burning. If it were possible for him to die of shame, he would. You don’t say anything for a while, trying to think of a reason why he would feel weird about your sex experience. The idea that he thinks of you like that at all is enough to make you clench your thighs together. 

You don’t know why, but you lean in and press your hand over his. “Why?”

In an instant, he’s laying on top of you. One of his hands has your hands pinned above your head, the other is supporting his weight so he doesn’t crush you. You can feel the muscles through his t-shirt, feel every breath he takes and the racing of his heart. You wonder if he can feel the same from you. 

“Because I can smell it on you, and some demons would ravage you if they could smell it on you.”

You take a shaky breath, squirming beneath him. “Some demons?”

“Horrible, selfish, greedy demons that just want to take your innocence for themselves.”

It’s then that his words click for you. Mammon wants to take your virginity, the Mammon wants to have sex with you. Mammon’s been avoiding you because typical of him, he can’t confront his feelings for you. 

“What if,” You pause, knowing that if you say what you’re going to say, everything will change forever. “What if I want that greedy demon to take my innocence?”

His eyes darken. “You don’t want that, y/n. Not from me. I-I ruin everything I touch. I don’t want to ruin you too.”

“Ruin me, Mammon. I don’t care if you ruin me, because it’s you.”

Your words ignite something in him, and suddenly his lips are on yours and his grip is tightening on your wrists. He’s hungry, wasting no time in attacking your mouth with his. He slides his knee between your legs, grinding it right against your sweet spot. 

He’s so turned on, so driven by his own hunger, that it takes everything in him to pull away. “You’re sure you want this?”

“I’m sure.”

“Alright, get in my bed and take your clothes off.”

You obey him, heading up the stairs to his bed and stripping out of your clothes. You cover your exposed chest with crossed arms, laying back on his bed. 

Mammon follows suit, stripping out of the t-shirt he was wearing. His toned stomach makes your face heat up and pussy gush. You look away as he takes his pants off, only looking when he crawls into the bed next to you. 

He slides an arm around your shoulders, tugging your head into his chest. His other hand trails down your thighs, pushing them apart to give his long fingers easier access. He taps your clit with the pad of his finger, eliciting a moan from you. 

You’re reactive, good to know. 

He plays with your clit, rubbing and pinching and rolling it with his hands. “That feel good, baby?”

You can only nod, letting out a breathy mhm in response. Your pussy reacts with every movement of his hands, your hole clenching empty air and leaking juices all over his comforter. 

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

You whimper, bucking your hips against his hand. It feels so good, so intense, and it leaves you wanting more. Wanting him. 

“Use your words, baby.”

“I-I need you…I need you to fuck me.”

His hand trails down from your clit to your drooling hole, slowly slipping one of his fingers inside of you. You whine even more now, throwing your head back and closing your eyes. 

Mammon slips another finger inside, slowly working you open on his hands. “Are you okay? Do you want to keep going?”

“I-I want you,” you urge, eyes tearing up from the pleasure building inside of you. 

“I know, I know. But I gotta stretch you out first or you won’t be able to take it.”

His words make you gush even more and he chuckles, taking advantage of how wet you are to slip another finger in. He goes faster now, curling his fingers inside of you. You wrap an arm around his shoulder, running your hand through his hair. 

He pulls his fingers out slowly but you still wince at the emptiness. He can’t help but lick your juices off of them, his cock only getting harder from the way you taste. He gets up from the bed, rummaging through the nightstand until he finds a condom. 

You watch as he rolls it onto his shaft, your eyes widening at the size of him. He climbs back onto the bed between your legs, and you spread them as wide as you can for him. 

“This is what you want? You’re sure?”

“Just fuck me, please.”

He gets it in right away, driving it into you slowly. You’re a little tense, and he’s a lot bigger than you expected, so it takes a minute for him to get it all the way inside of you. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt, though. He’s so deep you can feel it in your tummy, and despite the way it stings, your pussy has never felt better. 

He doesn’t give you much time to adjust—he’s so excited to finally be fucking you that he simply forgets. You don’t mind, though. You’re so horny that you don’t care, even if it does hurt for the first few thrusts. 

He’s slow at first, but as you relax and get wetter, he picks up the pace. He’s propped up on one arm, his chest almost flush with yours. His thrusts are intense, and so deep that they hit the parts of you that you’ve always wanted to be touched. 

“You’re being so good right now,” he pants, “taking me so well.”

You cling to his shoulders, tangle your fingers in his hair, anything to ground yourself to the reality that you’re being fucked by Mammon right now. He moans, but they’re more like quiet whines and they only egg you on more. 

With every deep thrust, the moans are forced out of your throat, and though you try to be quiet, Mammon looks at you with a crooked smile. 

“Shh,” he holds a finger up to his lips. 

“S-sorry,” you say, but you’re cut off by another loud moan when he bottoms out again. 

He covers your mouth with his hand, speeding up even more. He thrusts into you over and over, going as deep as possible every time. The heat inside of you is only building, and you feel like you’re going to burst at any second. 

“I’m gonna cum,” he whines. 

You nod, wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders to draw him closer. He’s driving his hips into yours so hard that you can feel bruises starting to form on your thighs from where they wrap around him. 

He slams into you, and you come undone. Your muscles contract and relax, and the muscles in your legs start to twitch. Your grip on his shoulders loosens as you focus on the way your whole nervous system seems to have caught fire. 

Mammon collapses into your chest, thrusting a few more sloppy times as he fills the condom with cum. He keeps his head on your shoulder and his cock inside of you while he catches his breath. 

“How are you doing?” He asks. 

“Good,” you say, rubbing circles on his back. 

“Do you need anything?”

You shake your head, “just you.”

“I’m all yours,” he kisses your forehead.

He pulls out, leaving you feeling cold and empty. He ties off the condom and throws it in his trash bin before pulling his underwear back on. 

He passes you his t-shirt, “you can put this on. I’m sure you’re gonna be a little sore so if you don’t wanna wear your panties, that’s okay.”

He helps you tug the shirt over your head, and kisses the tip of your nose. “I’m gonna grab some water, you should go pee before you go to bed. Okay?”

You nod, standing up on shaky legs. He’s right, you are a little sore. There’s a weird tight feeling in your tummy, not unlike the one while he was fucking you. You manage to make your way to the bathroom, grateful that it’s so close to his room and that it’s so late at night that no one else was around to notice. 

When you get back to Mammon’s room, he has the comforter pulled back and a glass of water at your bedside. 

You crawl into the bed and take a few sips of the water. “Thank you,” you mumble. You slide under the comforter and turn over on your side. “For everything.”

“Get some rest, baby. Sweet dreams.” He flicks off the light and goes to bed next to you, and everything in the world feels right again. 

[corioheinous]

Currently writing a post-Blue Lock aged-up kaisagi fic on ao3 and have been struggling so hard with creating a solid foundation for both characters’ Characterizations. but man did it become easier when I realized how many possibilities there are to explore when making Isagi juuust a little bit obsessed with Kaiser. Like we all know Kaiser is a lot a bit obsessed with Isagi (read: tearing his hair out and choking himself over it every other week) but I think it’s fun to explore Isagi’s quieter, most likely unwelcome obsession with Kaiser. Because at the end of the day, all toxic yaoi situationships are at least somewhat of a two-way street.

There’s a great paradox in which Kaiser embodies everything about a professional football player that Isagi wants to become (and look I know Noa exists but they’re not. they’re not foils in the same way okay that guy is pushing 40) while simultaneously being the most infuriating and annoying bastard in the world to him. Isagi recognizes Kaiser’s raw talent and the years of practice he’s put into developing his techniques as both very intimidating qualities to have in a rival and inspirational ones. Because they’re not impossibly far out of reach; these techniques (particularly metavision) are ones Isagi already employs on the field everyday, just has yet to master them at the extraordinary level Kaiser has. Isagi wants to beat Kaiser at his own game, using his own moves, and has unconsciously allowed Kaiser to become a sort of model for him in the process. Despite the fact that he hates the guy’s guts, he’s mirroring his best qualities to the point where even fans can see that they would synchronize well together if they just let themselves.

But Isagi would never let himself. He’s stubborn. He despises Kaiser. He probably sees a rosebush growing on the side of the road and lets it ruin his day. He’ll probably bear ill will toward anyone with blue hair and pronouns for years down the line. Which is why it’s so fun to be writing a more mature version of Isagi, one who has probably put a lot of that childish resentment behind him. Because when you remove his resentment toward Kaiser, you’re still left with some irritation, yes, but the bulk of it is admiration. It’s Isagi letting Kaiser rile him up more than he pisses him off. It’s Isagi wanting to butt heads with Kaiser both on and off the field. It’s Isagi buying a shirt/hoodie/pair of boxers with a rose pattern on it for no reason he could possibly fathom on his own. It’s a quiet, repressed brand of obsession that might take them both off guard when it comes to light, but it’d be a beyond brilliant moment when it does.

[starspann]

do you write for poly!matt & trey with reader? what about some smoke sesh hc’s?

YES?? OMG TY FOR REQUESTING THIS

smoking w/ matt and trey hc’s

matt stone x reader x trey parker

fem!reader, she/her pronouns are used

★☆✵☆★

warnings: smoking, cursing, suggestive themes

dating matt and trey and smoking with them <3

★☆✵☆★

an activity that you 3 frequently participate in

did it a lot together, before and after dating

sometimes you use a pipe, being that it’s yours, you light up and get first hit

when it does come to rolling, you tend to let matt or trey do it for the sole purpose of watching their fingers at work

watching the smoke leave their lips might be one of the hottest things ever

now when it comes to the entertainment,

you literally have to put up a fight to pick the movie

you’ll always end up choosing anyway,

and it’s always something stupid

think of an annoying, slapstick 90’s comedy, like the cable guy or billy madison

(not saying these r bad bc i lowkey adore them)

“oh my god.” trey gasps loudly

“what??” you reply, worry in your voice,

“this movie fucking sucks.”

earns him a good smack on the arm

“you fucking scared me!!”

i can imagine that trey is a little more energetic and talkative while matt lays back, a bit more tired and relaxed

doesn’t mean that matt isn’t talking though

in fact, they CANNOT shut up

actually impossible to have a few minutes of silence

it’s honestly cute watching them interact in such a state

giggling to each other and pointing at the tv screen and their surroundings like children

they piss themselves laughing with their dumb little inside jokes

you just sit there and observe with a smile on your face, joint in hand

“y/nnnn,” matt whines, sinking into the couch

“pass it over already, fuckin’ fiend over here..”

“shhh, shutup, c’mere—” you’d gesture him to come closer

yes, you shotgun the smoke into his mouth

and yes, trey gets super jealous and demands you do it with him too

matt leans into you and let’s you play with his hair, his hands,,

trey would rather have your hands under his shirt, gently raking your nails across his back— he likes the sensation

matt babbles on and on about random shit. he can barely get through one sentence without starting another story halfway.

trey gets cuddly, suddenly he’s never felt the touch of a human being before and needs to be all over you and matt

he definitely ends up sprawled out on top of you guys

his head in your lap, legs on top of matt’s, probably has his foot in his face

“ew! gross, dude.”

cue giddy chuckles from you and trey

“pssstt… y/n..” he whispered, looking up at you

you look down to see his blue, glossy, low-lidded eyes..

oh my god

trey notices the way you stare at him

“hi.” he says with a stupid smile on his face

“hey, baby.” you giggle

from behind you, matt’s hands find their way to your waist,

or were they there before?

smoke sesh quickly turns to a make out sesh

[artsy-the-little-pink-pencil]

Ragatha (Rosalyn) Anne Miller

Age when she joined: 20

Height: 5’9

Age Now: 31

Fave Color: Pale Blue

Sexuality and Gender: DemiGirl, Lesbian

Pronouns: She/They

Personality Type: ISFJ

Zodiac: Taurus

Home State/Country: Ohio (Scottish, English, American)

Birthday: May 5, 1993

Year she joined: 2013

Headcanons

She is Dane Miller's (The founder and owner of C&A) daughter. She had been a people pleaser for as long as she lived, her father was emotionally abusive and immature, causing Ragatha to grow up quicker than she should’ve.

Being able to summon her sewing needles and sew herself back up instantly, her butcher’s knives, and to go limp just like a ragdoll. She is also very resilient to attacks, being a ragdoll has its perks. If the gash is too big to sew on her own, she’ll either get someone else to sew her or Caine. She won’t die tho, but will definitely be traumatised.

Her father taught her how to sew.

She was raised by her father alone.

She was extremely rich, having a mansion, horses, a pool, yatch, ect. She was basically a modern princess.

She was very popular in school but didn’t want all the attention. She was soon bullied by the same kids for being, “Ungrateful”.

She went to private schools before being homeschooled.

Dane made sure Ragatha was completely under his influence and when she did finally figure out what was going on with him trapping people in his game, he did the same to his own daughter.

Ragatha's mother wasn't very present in her children’s lives. That was because she was working 2 jobs for her family which meant Ragatha had to be her replacement.

Is a firm Christian and went to church every Sunday, prayed every night, and said grace before every meal and still does. But she does respect other religions of course.

Had a wonderful relationship with her grandparents but only knew them for the first few years of her life.

She was born with blindness in her eye (the eye that has the button) and was bullied by her siblings for it.

Ragatha crochets in her free time. She loves making little coasters, sweaters, ect.

Is very oblivious to compliments/flirts.

After leaving the circus, she would have horrible nightmares of her father as Caine.

Ragatha still needs a nightlight to sleep.

Get to know the ragdoll!

Chinese Horoscope: Rooster

Spirit Animal: Rabbit

IQ: 92

Nicknames: Ragsy (Artsy), Raggy Anne (Jax), Mom (Gangle), Honey (Pomni)

Allergies: Wheat and Eggs

Disabilities: Blind in one eye

Right or Left Handed: Right

Quirks/Habits: Pulls on hair when angry or upset and constantly bounces leg

Siblings: 3 younger brothers and 2 younger sisters

Who is the most important person in her life: Pomni

Person she looks up to the most: Kinger

Best Friend: Kinger

Lover: Pomni

Rival: Jax

If he could have a superpower it would be: Flight

Dream Job: Professional Horse Rider

Biggest Fear: People not liking her

Biggest Flaw: Being a people pleaser

Favorite Animal: Horse

Favorite Hobby: Making clothes

Favorite Food: Spaghetti and Meatballs

Favorite Drink: Fruit Punch Gatorade

Least Favorite Food: Basalmic Vinegar Brussel Sprouts

Favorite Season: Spring

Favorite Movie: Breakfast Club

Favorite Book: The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien

Favorite Singer/Artist: Brittany Spears

Very skilled at: Sewing and fixing clothes

Least skilled at: Putting her foot down

Greatest Achievement: Won 1st place in her state's horse riding competition

Pet Peeves: Jax, people who are mean to others for no reason, messy sinks/houses.

Introvert or Extrovert: Both

Organized or Messy: Organized

Is she good at singing: Yes

Can she bake: Yes

Can she cook: Yes

Does she play any sports: Horse Riding

Instrument: Violin

Motto: “Treat others how you want to be treated.”

Theme Songs

She's just a Ragdolly - Raggedy Anne and Andy movie

Old Doll - The Mad Father

[blue-thief]

respectfully asking you to drop those trans hcs for the bllk boys!!!

yeah sure ofc i'm so glad you asked!

i'll split them up based on which NEL team they're on for the sake of my own sanity

(i don't actually hc ALL of them to be trans so i'll just mention the ones i actually have a hc for lol)

bastard munchen

kaiser - THE most trans-coded of the bunch imo. like the whole thing with the blue rose tattoo to represent "turning the impossible into reality" and "defying the natural order of things". and his full name is "michael kaiser" which can be interpreted as "god's chosen emperor". there's no way bro was given that name at birth. he's also coded to have religious trauma which would become much more layered if you interpret him as trans. he's also, interestingly enough, the only one to NOT have a metal chain around his neck on his cover. he's the only one with glass. a lot of ppl have interpreted this as him having a fragile ego, but glass can also be taken to symbolize transformation (i just pulled this from a random website talking about the spiritual meaning of glass lmao). ALSO also him being annoyed by his long hair in ness's flashback. trans. plus his insecurity concerning how good he is in comparison to (who he perceives as) cis players just screams insecure trans masc who's relying too much on toxic masculinity to affirm his gender to his peers lmao.

ness - he totally thought he would have to fight his parents on this but they were surprisingly cool with it + even helped him w puberty blockers and stuff. he still hates them for the anti-magic stuff but at least they're not transphobic?

isagi - don't ask me to explain this i just get those vibes

noa - (reporter) "what is your opinion on trans people with an unfair biological advantage in sports?" (noa, a trans man who transitioned wayy before he got famous) "i AM trans people with an unfair biological advantage in sports"

pxg

shidou - he just has bigender vibes man. japanese isn't big on third-person pronouns, but once he starts getting better at english, he'd def start collecting pronouns like pokemon cards. he figured out his identity through chainsaw man ("wow denji's just like me fr but so is angel devil but so is asa but so is-")

ubers

(i have nothing for any of the ubers. feel free to prove me wrong)

fc barcha

bachira - non-binary but he doesn't know it yet (any and all pronouns once he does figure it out)

manshine city

chigiri - peak gender, everyone confuses him for a girl. he uses masculine language, and while he sometimes acts annoyed when ppl call him princess, he doesn't bother correcting them. does anyone actually know chigiri's gender? no. does he know what it is? yes. will he tell anyone? no. he thinks it's funny to keep ppl guessing with the constant contradictions

reo - i didn't actually hc him as trans at first but the post i was complaining about earlier was dunking on this hc specifically so uhhh yeah he's trans now sorry i don't make the rules <3. his dad's company also pioneered top surgery that doesn't leave any scars which is why no one in bllk has any. like with ness, his dad is surprisingly not transphobic but he sucks in other ways lmao (but now that you think of it, his whole struggle with wanting to live a life completely different from what his parents had in mind for him IS a very trans-coded backstory)

[ilovespec]

Dangerous obsession ~

| Yandere FEM ! Dangerous gangster × FEM ! civilian reader | part 2

WARNINGS !!! : breaking and entering, arrest, your boyfriend in this story is a freaking freak, yandere is a woman АААААААА ЖЕНЩИНА ?!??!?!???!!!?? АААААААААААААА ЖЕНЩИНА !!!!!!!!!!!!! yandere and y/n are female here, their pronouns are she/her, all the characters my similarities with real people are random.

Part 1

Character description

After you told your boyfriend what happened... He just ignored you.

" (your name), just ignore it. And be grateful that people are paying attention to you ."

That's right... Not his style. He used to be more caring and kind... He resents you for being noticed by his boss...? Maybe. You were sitting on the couch and thinking about what to do... But, you gathered your thoughts and wrote to your boyfriend.

"I'm sorry, but when you say that... I'm going to have to leave you... Don't come to my house anymore. "

After you wrote that, you immediately added him to the blacklist and put the phone on silent mode. Just in case.

At night, when you were already asleep, you heard people simply shooting at your door and through the shots you heard the angry screams of your already ex-boyfriend ...!!! You immediately grabbed the phone and dialed 112 (112 is the police number. It's like 911 in America and 112 in Russia)

- Telephone operator : What are you calling about?

- You: MY EX IS SHOOTING AT MY DAMN DOOR!!!

- Telephone operator: dear , stay calm and hide. What is your address?

In a panic, you give your address and name and hide in the closet, among mountains of clothes and other junk. Hoping that this psycho won't find you... After a couple of seconds, you heard sounds like something fell on the floor and footsteps. And then the voice of your ex-boyfriend.

- Just a crazy ex : (your name) ~... I know you're here somewhere~

And as soon as you heard the sound of footsteps in your room, and saw that the closet door began to slowly open, the police broke into your apartment and chased after your ex. And he immediately jumped out the window, but judging by the sounds, someone began to actively restrain him...

As soon as you were called by name, you immediately got out of the closet. And a young policewoman came up to you. She has red hair, tanned skin and blue eyes.

- Policewoman - Dear , are you all right ? Have you been injured?

You shook your head, shaking violently. And she gently smiling, she patted you on the back..

- Policewoman: do you have a place to spend the night? I doubt it's safe to sleep without a door...

as soon as you wanted to say something, you heard a very familiar, hoarse voice...With a German accent.

- ??? : Yes. She has a place to spend the night. She's staying with me for now, it's not safe here.

You looked at the owner of that voice... It was Belinda!! After the stress and the incident, you just walked up to her regardless of her status and hugged her. And without wasting a second, she took off her coat and threw it over you. Trying to make you as comfortable as possible. Today she is wearing her usual black turtleneck, black wide-leg trousers, a leather belt, ordinary sneakers and a black coat, which is thrown over you right now. Then Belinda looks at the policewoman with a strained smile, and takes you in her arms and leaves. And you , surrounded by warmth , unconsciously pass out burying yourself in her shoulder , and inhaling her scent : a mixture of cigarettes and citrus fruits.

The next morning you wake up in a place you don't know... This is a room decorated in Gothic style. You sit up in bed, looking around the room, and are startled by the voice behind you. It was Belinda.

- Belinda: Good morning to you. And yes, don't worry, stay with me for a couple of days. It's not very safe for you to walk our streets right now. What if your ex-boyfriend's friends try to find you?

Stop.. How does she know that you broke up?? And she noticed your look... She pulls you to her and hugs you. Yes. You are being hugged by the most dangerous dangerous gangster in your area.. Maybe even countries. And you, afraid of what will happen to you without a response, hesitantly hug her back. Than you deserve... A kiss on the top of the head...???? You immediately blush, and she just smiles softly and pats your head.

- Belinda: Let's sit like this... A little more..

You don't answer, but just quietly close your eyes... She smells like that .. It's kind of sleep-inducing... And when you open your eyes, you try discreetly examine Belinda up close. She has a thin face, her only dark turquoise eye is half closed, her short blonde hair looks soft up close... You asked quietly.

- You: Uh... Miss Belinda.. And why are you wearing this black patch on your right eye..?

- Belinda: First of all, mein schatz, not "Miss Belinda" but just Belinda. Or Bel. Call me whatever you want... And about the bandage.

With her free hand, she lifts her black headband to show...EMPTY FUCK EYE SOCKET

- Belinda : When I was just at the beginning of my gangster career, they just stuck a knife in my eye, lol.

Then, laughing softly , she lowers her blindfold , and ... She took you by the face with amazing care.

- Belinda: I'm shocked to be honest... You're so young.. And now you're sitting here with me. And I'm 40 years old, hehe..

Belinda smiles calmly, and completely wrapping both arms around you, puts you on your back, thereby forcing you to lie down. And then... She hugs you like a koala hugs a tree branch, and puts her head right over your heart.

Belinda : Kätzchen ...Can we go on a date later? Now, go get some sleep.

WHY IS IT SO STRAIGHTFORWARD?!??!!!

+ BONUS !!

A lil art of these kind policewoman <3

[olath124]

✨️TELL ME ABOUT YOUR OCS✨️

Random shot from my... At this point scary big stash of shots. And brace yourself... It's long.

♡Name: Violet Wright.

♡Nicknames: V, just V.

♡Age: 32

♡Pronouns: She, her.

♡Sexuality: Pansexual. Doesn't care about the gender, has to feel the ✨️vibe✨️.

♡Hair Color and style:

Her natural hair color is dark brown, but she always dyes them in turquoise with pink accents. She varies a lot with her hairstyle. Usually, she keeps her hair long but mostly tied up in buns. Only when she feels really comfortable she keeps her hair down. Since she’s with Kurt she wears her hair more and more often down, preferring softer and more feminine hairstyles. After the surgery, she’ll cut her hair short and return to her natural color, but she’ll grow it back and will go back to her turquoise and pink color. 

♡Eye Color:

Her natural color is green, she tries to keep her Kiroshi as close as possible to her real color.

♡Height: 165 cm (5’5”)! Short queen! But well, Hansen canonically is 5’9”, so he can suck it!

♡Body Type: She’s athletic. She’s used to running around a lot.

♡Personality:

Violet would say normal. She’s a bit skittish with relationships, a bit insecure, very irrational and volatile.

Really affectionate, needy and whiny with those she really cares about.

♡Tattoos:

A tattoo Misty designed for her with a mandala on her neck. (I want to redraw it and make it more like a big peony, tough, we’ll see! Yes, Violet is a big WIP)

♡Piercings: Many on her ears, nothing else.

♡Any definable features such as: Birthmarks, Scars, Freckles, Beauty Marks, Accent when they talk, Lisp, Natural slurring of words, Walk with a subtle limp, ect.

She has a bunch of birthmarks on her face (not really freckles) and many different scars around her body. On her right leg now she has a scar in a shape of “K” that the two dumb-dumbs keep refreshing now and then.

♡Hobbies

Does killing Maelstrom and Scavs count as a hobby? If not, she likes to cook (with poor results because she can’t really follow instructions and tends to improvise). Only, and I mean it, only when she’s alone (or well, with Johnny at most) she sings. She’s actually not bad at it!

♡Gang/Occupation {Mox, Max Tac, etc}

None. She’s a free merc. 

Who are we kidding? At the end she’s with Barghest. Or at least under their protection.

♡Do they smoke?

She started to smoke with Johnny. Now she smokes with Kurt. Not really a habit, she smokes only if she’s stressed out or if the person she’s talking to is smoking.

♡Do they drink? Is so, what's their poison of choice?

As with smoking, she’s a social drinker. Doesn’t drink alone, but loves to drink in company. She rarely gets drunk, though. Doesn’t really like to lose control, only to get tipsy to make social interactions easier!

♡What do they usually wear on a normal day?

Synth-leather pants, a t-shirt or a top, a synth-leather jacket, sneakers, or boots. She loves black and blue stuff.

♡What do they wear when they "Get dressed up"? And what would be considered a "special occasion" to them {such as an "Oh they're gonna be there so I have to look my best." Or an "It's our anniversary".}

A special occasion is when Kurt asks her to get dressed up. She doesn’t care about dresses too much, but she likes it when he buys her dresses and asks her to wear them. Her favorite one is a short blue velvet dress, with a deep cleavage and exposed back with little dainty silver chains that cover the cleavage.  Maybe because it’s his first gift to her.

♡What do they smell like? {For example: they smell like cinnamon flavored liquor, cigarettes, leather, and motor oil.}

Blood, sweet and jasmine. After she got her shit together mostly simply jasmine.

♡How do they walk? Do they sway their hips? Do they walk with a sense of determination? Do they bounce as they walk? Etc.

When she doesn’t think of it she walks almost as if she’s hiding. Always keeping her surroundings under control, finding possible hiding spots or advantage points. When she’s in a good place or feels protected she’s straighter and more confident in her stride.

♡Are they more of an early bird or a night owl?

An always exhausted pigeon. She doesn’t have fixed hours and sleeps whenever she can. Used to sleep in the morning but with Kurt she got used to waking up (at least briefly) at 6 to have breakfast together and a morning talk.

♡If you had to use one word to define them, what word would you use?

Impulsive.

♡What words or catchphrases do they say that's unique to that character?

For everyone probably some kind of swear: “Fuck!” Or “Fuck It!”

For Kurt… they have a ritualistic phrase she uses when she needs him to be rough with her and it's: “I want you. I need you. I'll always be yours” (the final part may vary). So it's her phrase in his eyes.

♡Favorite Season

Winter.

♡Favorite type of weather {Thunderstorms, sunny, etc}

She likes those cold winter sunny mornings. She’d love to see the snow, but not a thing she’s gonna see in NC.

♡Do they have someone they're with relationship-wise? If so, who?

Yeah. Where she’s at in (my yet unpublished) writing she’s officially with Hansen. In the published part they are together only in his head XD.

♡Main Ship/Pairings

Kvio. So yeah, Kurt/Violet.

♡Side Pairings

Do I have to count them??? Between official characters only, Vio has been with: Jackie, Judy, River. Not Panam because she’s not interested (but damn, Vio tried hard!). There’s also the weird thing she has with Johnny. If she never met Hansen they would have probably end up together.

♡Favorite/Self-indulgent Pairings

The favorite remains Kvio… The self-indulgent is an Aon/Vio/Alt sandwich XD! 

♡How do they show affection to their loved one?

TOUCH. She don’t generally like to touch people… But with people she likes she’s very touchy. Not in an extreme way, but if she’s close to a person she loves she’s probably touching their arm, or slipping her hand under their or laying her head on their shoulder. She is really affectionate and really needs a lot of physical contact.

♡How do they sit in a chair?

Normally? But usually quite comfortably, legs slightly open or a leg over the other. Definitely not feminine or elegant

♡How do they sit in a chair {uncomfortable version}

Legs closed, straight back, probably fidgeting with her hands.

♡What do they wear to bed?

T-shirt and underwear. But she’s been gifted a blue silk nightgown and she likes it too. She still thinks it’s too fancy for sleeping in it, though.

♡How do they usually sleep? {Side sleeper, back, fetal position, backwards, nest sleeper, blanket mountain, etc}

She starts in fetal position, or all cuddly, she ends sleeping on her back, sometimes she throws her arms and legs around.

♡How do they sleep in a place they don't know? {Can't due to anxiety, in small bursts of sleep that are short lived, holding themselves, etc}

If she's in a “safe space” the same as usual. If it’s not so safe she wakes up now and then checking her surroundings. She also is very receptive to any possible sound.

♡Do they have to have a form of "white noise" in order to sleep? {The sound of a fan, the sound of rain, the sound of a city, etc}

No, but she appreciates the sound of the waterfall behind Kurt’s bed a lot.

♡What's a place they go to feel comfortable, that's their "spot" they always go when they're upset?

El Coyote Cojo, Misty’s shop, or Viktor’s clinic. Like a stray cat who makes a tour of her favorite places for food and cuddles.

♡What do they do when they're nervous? {Fidget with jewelry, pick at nails, bite nails/lips, play with knife/zippo lighter, etc}

If she needs to fake it, she focuses on something repetitive. Like the tap of her finger on something. If not she usually avoids other people's eyes and tries to make herself invisible, she tends to do things with her hands but it's more uncontrollable.

♡What is their "tell" for lying?

She tends not to watch people in the eyes when she’s lying about something personal. If it’s professional stuff, though it’s quite harder to tell.

♡What is their favorite color?

Turquoise and blue.

♡Favorite flower/plant

Peonies.

♡Favorite sweet of choice

She's not really a sweet person. But well, who doesn't like chocolate?

♡Do they have any pets? If so, tell me about them

She had Nibbles, but with her erratic schedules she preferred to leave him with Misty.

*Takes a deep, sad breath* Violet Norris is technically her pet. And well, Shark Norris, too. If Kurt really has a “Proudest Shark Daddy” shirt, she has a “Proudest Shark Mommy'' shirt. Just to freak her out. That shirt is always in the laundry basket anyway. And if she wears it she becomes extra clumsy and spills something on it.

But of course, she's not allowed to tinker with the aquarium or to feed them without supervision. Not that she would anyway.

♡What are their triggers {If they have any}? If so, what calms them down?

The only real trigger for her is the feeling of abandonment or the fear of losing people she cares about. Only realizing that she’s not being left alone, preferably with physical contact calms her down.

♡If they could visit anywhere in the world, where would they go and why?

She… doesn’t know! She has seen very little outside of Night City and Atlanta, so the world… It feels so overwhelming. 

♡What is their favorite comfort meal?

Mama Welles’s food. Doesn’t really matter what!

♡Do they have a food they hate?

Food is food, she could eat everything. But well, she doesn’t love industrial-made food, but that’s what she eats the most anyway.

♡What is their favorite {non-alcoholic} drink?

She likes Tiancha Pomegranate.

♡What are their plans for the future {if they have any}?

She doesn’t make plans for the future. But if she could she would keep everything as it is. Living in the Black Sapphire with Kurt, doing gigs without being completely swallowed by them.

♡What's a song that "fits" them?

There’s a whole playlist…

But if I had to choose one this is her song.

♡Give me 5 facts/random bits of information about them

She once cooked a cake that tasted like fish. She still doesn't know what went wrong that time. Poor Jackie, it was for his birthday.

Still has a shark plushie and a T-shirt Kurt gave her when she was 3 years old. She couldn't sleep without both when she was a kid.

Violet secretly likes both Shark and Violet Norris a lot. Mostly because they bring out a silly/boomer side in their owner she didn't know before.

Violet can't dance. For real. She simply wiggles her arms around without any coordination.

She knitted a sweater for Nibbles. Never finished it though.

♡Give me their backstory {can be long, or brief.}

Born in 6th Street’s turf. Her father killed her mother, but she doesn't remember most of it. It was gruesome, though, so that even a 15-year-old Kurt was shaken by it at the time. He killed her father and she was under his protection for a few years until he joined the army. In one day she lost both her best friend and her mother because he used to lie about her death.

Since then she hated living there but didn't know what else to do until she ran into Valentino's turf at 13.

She was lucky enough to meet Jackie and become friends with him. He introduced her to his mom and friends. The first time she felt loved like in a family. They eventually got together from 15 to 18. But she didn't love his affiliation with Valentinos and to avoid being sucked into another gang she broke up with him and moved to Atlanta. She moved back after 5 years. Jackie was no longer with Valentinos and they started to work on gigs together as friends. They never got back together, though, in truth they really weren't right for each other.

That's until the Heist and everything else (which happens a lot of years later).

She met Kurt again, but they didn't recognize each other and hooked up. After they found out who the other was, everything seemed terribly (and a bit freakily) right and perfect. (The truth is that if they did know beforehand they would have lost every inch of sexual tension between them xD)

Now they're mostly together. With ups and downs because communication is hard for both of them.

♡Free Space! Give me any sort of extra information about them you'd like to share

Really, I think I've exhausted everything xD

~

Template from @vincentmatthews, template here. Have fun !

Can I tag people??? Of course I'll tag people!

Obviously with no pressure.

@ouroboros-hideout @blackrevell @cybervesna @cyberholic77 @streetkid-named-desire

@astellehope @dustymagpie @sofia-in-nc @theviridianbunny

And everyone who wants to!

[sleeping-in-the-sky]

what're your favorite headcanons about the infinite blue boys

asdfghjkl thank you for the ask! Apologies this took so long, I love wanting to do multiple hobbies and subsequently not making progress on any of them

Anyway I'm a sucker for domestic mundane things, like the list of random facts VelvetFox posted in this ask, so here are some headcanons for the boys with that same vibe:

(I had some scraps of IB dad headcanons so those are mixed in here too)

Infinite Blue LIs x Reader. No mentions of reader pronouns or gender. Also posted on Ao3 here.

——

Alexei:

Has journals full of thoughts and observations about anything and everything. Some of his writing is illegible and other parts make no sense to anybody but him because it's literally his runaway train of thoughts dumped onto paper. He sticks post-it notes with diagrams between the pages, jots down excerpts from Wikipedia pages, and overall it's not an aesthetic read... But flipping through can give you an idea of how this super genius's brain works.

He also writes about you in these notebooks, albeit they're written in between stuff like the thirty-seven fun facts of siphonophores and his favorite part of last night's dinner. Many of them are things you’ve never even noticed about yourself like the way you hold the steering wheel while driving. This is also where he'll stick date memorabilia, like movie tickets. (this hc was inspired by this fic by @sailxrmxrs <3)

If you two own a saucer chair or some other small round comfy seat, he'll probably fall asleep in it at least once. He curls up, all 5'10" of him tucked in that tiny space. Naturally, his body hurts when he wakes up and therefore he gets a bit grumpy. So next time if you see him dozing off maybe lead him to the couch or the bed so he can stretch comfortably.

Brooklyn:

I want to imagine that he has a closet only for his clothing irons and ironing boards. Like a fucking broom closet and you open it to see that there's those four boards and a dozen irons. These include vintage clothing irons, restored and repurposed. He knows how to use them and take care of them too. Why does this make me laugh so hard.

Clothes shopping. Take this man clothes shopping. Yes, he'll buy you anything but honestly? Even disregarding that it’s a fun time because he would enjoy discussing outfits, and if your taste isn't the same as his business-academia-formal style he could be convinced into trying an outfit you styled, or vice versa. Also he's a total simp every time you step out of the changing room. Need fit pics? He's got you covered.

Something tells me Brooklyn would enjoy snacks and desserts from around the world. He'd love to make them himself (and with you!), but you could just come home with some mitarashi-dango because your local Asian supermarket was having a sale and he's already cracking open the container for the ceremonial-grade green tea leaves.

Leo:

Leo's our favorite gamer guy, but I think he also enjoys jigsaw puzzles whether they be with his friends or you or both. These are the quiet nights where everyone is focusing, intently staring at the puzzle sitting on the coffee table while aimlessly chatting. It's super peaceful, though sometimes time slips by unnoticed and by the time you all finish it's two in the morning.

Does that thing where you put someone in a shopping car, sprint across the parking lot while pushing said cart, then jump on it while it's moving. He does it with his friends, you, and his future kid (albeit with a lot more caution). He really wants to kiss you while he’s doing it too, but maybe not because what happens if he hits a car, or worse, someone else?

While we're on the topic of transportation and kisses, every time you're sitting shotgun and he pulls the car in reverse he'll put his hand on your seat and lean in to kiss you. Every. Single. Time.

Kiss him first. It'll get him flustered. Do it.

Milo:

I want to believe he really likes having his hair brushed. If you ask him about it he'll never admit it beyond a quick affirmative, but anytime you sit behind him and start to gently run the bristles through his tangles, he could feel himself relaxing. It's soothing. He might fall asleep like that.

Milo would own a 3d printer. I have no definitive reasons why. Vibe check says he owns a 3d printer and will print out cool little knickknacks and give them to you without a word because they either help you in a mundane way (like a toothbrush holder), or he'll print out something cute like a tiny frog with a mushroom hat because he likes seeing your face light up.

Or he'll print out something cursed, like that Thomas the Tank Engine bottlecap where the liquid streams out of the eyes. It's a coin toss every time.

Rory:

Was that one kid reading with a flashlight under the covers. Even now that he's older, he likes to get a bed light and read before bed. Sometimes he gets super engrossed in it and you gotta peel that book off him. He’ll complain. Stand your ground. Otherwise he'll be super sleep-deprived and cranky the next morning.

If his future child also turns out to be an avid reader, he'll secretly change out their flashlight batteries. Or get them a night light with some half-baked excuse of, "so you don't turn on all the lights when you get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and wake the entire house up." Sure, Rory.

Speaking of sleep-related things, he really likes it when you fall asleep next to him/on him. His expression melts into the softest smile and he'll pull you in tightly. If he falls asleep on you, he's the kind to unconsciously hold onto you/must be touching you at all times. He gets really embarrassed about it if you mention this to him. I recommend taking a picture and making it his contact photo.

Tobias:

Has terrible handwriting but an impeccable signature. Don't ever ask him to write the grocery list because it takes forever to decipher his chicken scratch, but he'll sign stuff for fans in one fluid stroke, and that shit looks clean. And yes, he'll offer to sign something for you too.

Loves it when he's chilling on the couch after a long day and you flop on top of him. He'll happily be your teddy bear and let you lay there for hours, the two of you chatting and watching TV while he rubs soft circles on your back. Feel free to fall asleep like that too.

He's the type to enjoy flashy, expensive dates. He takes you out in his sports car to get dinner at a fancy restaurant, followed by spectating sports games from the VIP seats. But I also think incredibly mundane things, like the two of you going out just to grab ice cream in sweatpants and hoodies give him a special kind of happiness.

Seeing you sleepily rubbing your eyes as you come to pick him up from the airport is enough to make him giddy.

[streamat4am]

for shes the man enid's dong id probably go for wednesday if u dont mind. or yoko if u prefer

I gotchu mate :)

Tags: wednesday being a tease, enid being sensitive asf and having a not so human ding dong, usual things. Enid switches to he/him pronouns in wednesdays POV bc she crossdresses and tries to pass as a man for au reasons

-

"You don't have to do this," Enid mumbles and her face lit aflame when wednesday hums. Her eyes isn't even looking at her face! it shouldn't be a bother, except Wednesday is literally looking at something else, something more intimate.

A whine pulls from the werewolf's lips when cold fingers brushed at her tip, that thumb rubbing and pressed at the slit with a curiosity that has Enid being jealous. Pre spills and Enid can't stop a whine of concern when she watches it pool around the creases of Wednesday's hand.

Is this really okay? Like she didn't mind but this is a special thing after all. She doesn't remember girls doing this in her shows... But then again, Enid isn't supposed to be acting as a girl at all.

The thought of Wednesday doing this with others has her tensing her jaw though.

"Does this bother you?" Wednesday wonders, her eyes finally straying to look into dilated blue. "You're free to back out whenever."

Enid shakes her head, an instant no escaping her lips before she can think

"I just-" the wolf chokes on her words, not expecting Wednesday to start stroking . Her hands clung onto the chair, digging in as her nails dug deep into the plush seats. Already can she feel her teeth growing with her arousal, scraping at her bottom lip with a want and it aches as she zeroes into Wednesday's skin.

"Yes?" Wednesday says and Enid gasps when a finger brushes against the little bump that rests on her base. It was her knot, the one thing that made this happen in the first place.

See Enid was born with a rather curious condition, instead of manifesting her more wolfish features once a month, it instead decides to pop in or even stay at times depending on her mood. This one? was on the more permanent side. It wasn't as big as it should be if she shifts but its noticeable alright- noticeable enough that when she got pantsed a week ago, her gang caught an eyeful.

She didn't think that such a prank would lead to this.

"tell me Enid," Wednesday starts and Enid nods, trying her best to listen through the beat in her ears and haze over her mind. Her bestie's fingers continue to prod and it is simply so hard to keep a straight mind when her hands start to pump. "have you ever used this?"

"Used?" Enid whimpers and her hips jerk when those hands squeezed at the tip.

Too lost to the feeling, the werewolf pressed her eyes shut, unaware of the way Wednesday tilts her head. She does it again and Enid leaks all the more, shaking and trembling in the chair.

"have you?" Wednesday repeats, a whisper of a smile growing on her face when Enid does his best to breathe in reply instead before slowly shaking his head no.

Beautiful, as it should.

Enid has always been so steadfast, never one to falter so to think that she was one to bring such a boy to this state makes something pleasant to curl inside her. He looked like a mess, with his hair frazzled and parts of his stomach exposed, allowing her to eye the happy trail that led to her current fascination.

His lenght is heavy in her hands and she squeezes at the knot that laid in her palm.

At first, she was curious about his biology. She has taken werewolf class and from what she remembers, most don't have this feature so to see it in Enid.. she simply couldn't let this chance go.

Not to mention, she wanted an excuse to touch him where no one else has.

What? Wednesday is opportunistic so when the urge to taste overtakes her, she allows herself to dive in and give a broad lick up the shaft.

The sound Enid makes is delicious as he bucks his hips up. Needy dog, Wednesday thinks, laying her hands on his thighs and pushing him back into place. It takes a moment for her tongue to reach the tip before she caught the precum that leaked.

The stream kept going at a steady pace and a part of her wondered if he was in rut. It'd explain the knot and why he was so reactive. A heat bloomed at her skin and she breathes a tiny bit harder when she licks her lips, savouring the tang of something not so bitter sticking on her mouth.

She wanted more.

"weds?-" Enid whispers, those eyes of his trying to spark into something with clarity.

Wednesday shushes in reply and without warning, she wraps her lips around the tip, holding the head with the flat of her tongue as she suckled. Enid choked, his words unable to bumble out as he whined and jerked in her hold.

"Wednesday!" Enid gasps and oh does her name sound absolutely tantalizing in his mouth, spilling out like he was begging for more. Just for him, she's willing to indulge so she hums and took more of his lenght. Enough to for it to sit snugly in the back of her throat as the rest of her fingers pressed against the knot just a few inches away from her mouth.

All he can say to that is a whimper and his hands that were clinging so tightly to the chair now run through her hair. She feels the way those claws tempt to dig and heat burns at her skin at the thought as Enid shakily brushes her bangs back..

Wednesday's eyes snapped up to watch, to see her boy bite his lip so hard that blood must've pooled. How she wishes she could kiss and sample what it would've tasted. The thought was enough to make her moan and immediately Enid folded, his shoulders shaking as he gasps with flushed cheeks.

Wednesday simply suckles, enjoy the way he leaks in her mouth as she rubbed circles along his thighs, feeling how it tenses in want.

It's then that Wednesday is assured that only she can see Enid like this. Gone was the straight laced confidence of before, instead all that was left was a shaking wolf so easily held down. It's endearing, it's addicting and it's hers.

“Willa - ” Enid whined and finally, his fingers curl along the base of her hair to tug. “I think im-”

Wednesday didn't need to think twice before opening her jaw even more to try and take the rest of him in.

"ohmygos-" spills from Enid's lips and Wednesday's eyes go wide when she feels herself get pulled so deep that her mouth nudges against the swollen knot. It's bigger up close and she wonders what'd it'd feel inside as the head of his cock nestled deep in the back of her throat.

Wednesday doesn't gag but her throat tenses at the intrusion anyways and like a seasoned pro for someone who hasn't at all done this, she inhales through her nose before licking and sucking the thing that's going to haunt her nightmares.

Enid cries out and with one last call of "Wednesday!" he cums straight into her stomach. Wednesday pulls back, enough to keep the head inbetween her lips and swallow the rest of his seed with every greedy bob of her throat.

When all is done, she presses a kiss on his steadily growing flaccid cock before standing up and straightening her uniform. She eyes the knot that lays ever so present but it was smaller now. She remembers the size it held from before and bets that it would leave a pleasant stretch whenever he pulls out.

Enid lays there, mouth agape and looking like he ran a marathon with how flushed his face was.

"we should do this again, Enid," Wednesday says, her head tilting and she can still taste him on her tongue with every word she says. He needs to take responsibility for the addiction that's growing.

All Enid can do is nod and when she felt the familiar tensing of a body part, immediately pulled her pants up.

"let's," Enid giggles in disbelief because wtf just happened. It isn't until Enid sees Wednesday in passing a few hours later does she realize that what happened wasn't some dream because there is no way, Wednesday Addams just mimicked what she did this morning.

... Maybe pranks aren't so bad after all, if it lead them to her.

[evilstalks]

FULL NAME. michael audrey myers NICKNAME. the boogeyman, the shape, evil on two legs, the babysitter killer ALIASES. none PRONOUNS. he/him, though he does not mind it/they SIZE. 6'9 AGE. 21 generally speaking. he's 21 in 1978 ZODIAC. libra SPOKEN LANGUAGES. english

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 ―

HAIR. a very light brown, almost dirty blonde. curly and to the nape of his neck FACIAL HAIR. none EYES. baby blue, although after facing off laurie, his left eye is a pale, scarred over white SKIN TONE. extremely pale BODY TYPE. tall and with a lot of lean muscle. he has very strong arms and his body is hard overall but he doesn't have a 6-pack, he's just very fit and very long VOICE. depends on which fc I'm using. if it's hayden then hayden is the vc and if it's asa then asa is the vc. DOMINANT HAND. right, though when it comes to using his knife, he can skillfully use both POSTURE. straight as a fucking ruler. michael does not slouch. his head is always held high or at a neutral stance and his spine is always straight. it's the stance of someone with confidence and also someone extremely stiff lol SCARS. the most noticeable one is the one over his left eye which has caused blindness in that eye. he has several small scars on his hands and fingers and multiple bullet wounds all over his torso and one on his right thigh, too. BIRTHMARKS. none besides a lil beauty mark on the left side of his chin MOST NOTABLE FEATURES. ummm his mask? lol but without his mask, he has a very intimidating and unsettling presence but he is also extremely beautiful. and SUPER TALL.

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃 ―

PLACE OF BIRTH. haddonfield, illinois HOMETOWN. haddonfield SIBLINGS. judith Myers (deceased) and laurie strode PARENTS. deborah Myers (deceased), unknown father, though he had a stepfather named steve

𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 ―

OCCUPATION. none, loser is unemployed CURRENT RESIDENCE. generally speaking, haddonfield FINANCIAL STATUS. he grew up lower middle class and well, he has never had a job or any source of income since he has been state property all his life, so his financial status is nonexistent pretty much. he's homeless and poor essentially lol DRIVER'S LICENSE. does not have one but he does know how to drive CRIMINAL RECORD. officially, one charge of first-degree murder against judith Myers VICES. none

𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ―

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. mostly aromantic/asexual, but he will experience attraction towards both men and female when the Right One comes along PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE. he wants to be dominant but he honestly falls more into a submissive role in relationships PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. dominant for the most part TURN OFFS. he's a virgin so he doesn't really know, but uh, good people turn him off for sure lol. TURN ON'S. all the horrible shit you can think of for the most part (excluding certain body fluids). murdering, stalking, knifeplay, bloodplay, gore-- yeah...... LOVE LANGUAGE. quality time and gift giving. and yes "quality time" for him might just be standing near his partner in silence, watching them RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. UMMMMM well, Michael is... very unwell mentally. truly sick in the head and not normal in any sense of the word. he is extremely possessive. he gets jealous a lot too and if he gets jealous he will murder the person making him feel that way. he's also just a pretty terrible partner to have bc he doesn't speak, and even though he does use ASL in some verses a bit, it's limited and he does not really communicate how he feels or what he thinks, so being with him is a guessing game. he is also irritable and especially in dbd verse he will not hesitate to maim his partner if they get on his bad side. but he is also extremely loyal and will not betray them or let anybody hurt them, and he will find things important to them and gift it to them.

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒 ―

CHARACTER'S THEME TUNE. stabbing in the dark by ice nine kills and Michael by rob zombie <3 HOBBIES TO PASS THE TIME. stalking, dissociating. murder. LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. right? SELF-CONFIDENCE LEVEL. it's a strange thing because while he is confident in himself, he has never thought about his confidence. but he does not have any insecurities and knows he is a Force to reckon with. when it comes to his appearance he has no opinion at all about what he looks like. he has no idea how beautiful he is RIPPPPPP

[oldwritingm]

uh hello- I'm nervous as I'm not used to this since I usually just read your stuff without suggesting things! Congrats on 100 followers, you deserve more tbh. I saw your matchup post! For the fandom it's ninjago, my gender preferance is uh... idk? I use she/them pronouns tho. Idm if it's platonic or romantic but I'm lonely irl so I would prefer romantic! I like kids cartoons and I'm pretty energetic and bubbly but uh- very shy and I get nervous very easily (if this wasn't an indicator) okay tysm! congrats on the followers (again lol)

Thank you for your kind words!! Now onto the matchmaking… I match you (romantically) with:

Jay Walker!!

Some headcanons!

You guys totally geek out together all the time

He loves being able to talk about his interests with you

And he loves hearing about your interests

He also appreciates that you can match his energy level with your bubbly personality

Most people have trouble keeping up with you guys

You’re just on your own wavelength

On that note, you guys have SO MANY inside jokes and little references

Sometimes it’s like you’re speaking a different language

You both enjoy the confused looks you get almost as much as you enjoy making the references

You just get each other so perfectly,, you definitely call each other “my other half”

You can frequently be found just talking to each other, all alone, in your own little world

He totally relates to your anxiety; though his is less social, so he has no problem fronting for you in public

Actually, he enjoys it

He gets to be your knight in shining armor :)

He’s very protective of you because of your shyness

It makes him anxious to see you alone in a crowd, so he always tries to keep physical contact in public

Hand holding or pinky locking are his go-tos, but he’s not against putting an arm around your shoulder or waist

This is also how he shows that you’re together

It’s less of a gesture he does out of jealousy, more of something he does to say “hey, I’m with her”

He doesn’t really get jealous over you

He knows that you’re his and he’s yours, that’s all he needs

A little Drabble!

You perked up when Jay walked in, sending a beaming smile his way.

“Hi!! And what are you up to, beautiful?”

You felt your cheeks go a little pink. “Uh, nothing.”

“Are you watching something?”

“Yeah… it’s a kids show,” you said quickly, trying to dismiss him as you half-closed your computer on your lap.

“Cartoons?”

“Yes. But how was your d—”

Before you could finish your statement, Jay dived onto the bed and propped himself up on his elbows next to you. He looked up at you with sparkling eyes; it was a look that he always got when he was excited about something. “Can I watch too?”

You blinked at him, your own eyes wide as an owl’s. “Do you really want to?”

“Obviously!! I freaking love cartoons. And what better way to watch than with my other half?”

A rosy-cheeked smile found your face. “Okay then.”

Jay scooted closer, draping an arm around you and bringing your head against his chest. You nuzzled into him, pressing play on your laptop and watching the cartoon with a newfound giddiness.

And a song!

Meteor Shower (Cavetown)

meteor shower! quick, take cover

But the hues in our hair compliment one another

I'd sell my own bones for sapphire stones

'Cause blue's your favorite color

…

My heart and the earth share the same rule

It starts with love and it ends with you

But don't go outside, it's dangerous tonight

Without me right here by your side

I hope you like this!! This is my first ever matchup hehe ^^ but thank you for your support, I can’t tell you how much you mean to me!

(divider by saradika)

[aimfor-theheart]

Act I, Part II

|| kaeya alberich x afab!reader || E/18+ || hurt/comfort/fluff || wc: 13k || ao3 || masterlist || <- Act I, Part I ||

When you, a beloved artist and performer of Mondstadt, attract the attention of the Fatui, there is only one person you seek out for help; the infamous Cavalry Captain of the Ordo Favonius, Mondstadt's beloved bastard.

minors and ageless blogs dni, 18+ only

❀ for you are the world (as i am in pieces) - @lorelune ❀

a/n: this is the second part to act one because tumblr would not let me post in one! this is apart of a lovely collab with my buddy @lorelune that you should check out!! i've linked their fic above!! thank you so much to @acerathia for beta reading this!!! this is the first act of three that will be posted!! everything will also be on ao3!! thank you so much and i'd love to hear your thoughts!! <33

tags: afab reader (she/her pronouns but is rather gender fluid/binds her chest sometimes and presents both femme and masc), alcohol use, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of stalking/full on stalking from the fatui to the reader, eventual smut (not in this chapter), mentions of heartbreak/abandonment issues, bodyguard au technically, fake dating au technically

SCENE VI 

Dawn Winery in the early morning. The sun has barely risen over its hills. The sky is still cool and blue, the light watery as it pours into the study. Diluc is hardly awake at his desk, hair still tousled and eyes heavy. He was up late last night and we can tell. Kaeya enters from downstage right and keeps his back towards the audience. 

“It’s too early, Kaeya,” Diluc’s voice is a rough scratch. 

“I’ll be brief,” Kaeya says with too much bounce in his step. “It’s important.” 

Diluc raises vermillion eyes up from the paperwork on his desk and levels him with an unimpressed look, but he is silent. Waiting. 

Kaeya can’t help the slight smile that tugs at his mouth. He can’t help himself; he’s a younger brother, “you look awfully exhausted.” 

“Get out,” Diluc grouses. 

Kaeya fights his urge to laugh, “that’s not why I’m here.” 

“Then get to the point.” 

With some pain, Kaeya manages to say, “I need your help.” 

Diluc narrows his eyes, “with what?” 

Kaeya says your name, slowly, carefully. 

“Whatever it is going on between you two, I don’t want to know–and you better not be toying with her, she’s already been through too much heartbreak to–”

“No,” Kaeya says quickly, “there’s nothing between us. She’s in trouble–our relationship is a ruse so that I have an excuse to be at her side to protect her.” 

Diluc blinks slowly. 

“She’s in trouble?” He then asks, “why wouldn’t she–?”

“She’s being very clever and very cautious. The Fatui are watching her every move.” Kaeya explains, “we’re trying not to alert her watchers that we know.” 

Diluc’s brows furrow, “what would the Fatui want with her?” He asks, “I know she’s been trouble for them before but I can’t fathom what they’d so actively pursue her for.” 

“I’m trying to find out,” Kaeya says, “but they’re getting more aggressive. The other night I interfered with a chase.” 

“A chase?” Diluc asks. 

“They were chasing her on her way home from Springvale. I’m not sure what they would’ve done if they’d caught her before I got there. Point being,” Kaeya draws in a quick breath through his teeth, “I need more eyes on her.” 

“Does Jean know?” Diluc asks. 

“Yes and I plan to enlist Venti, too. Anyone who is close to her that we can trust. It’s imperative we don’t alert them.” Kaeya continues, “It’s not abnormal for you or Venti or Jean to hang around her when I can’t.” 

“That’s why she’s been coming home with you.” Diluc says slowly. 

“Yes,” Kaeya agrees, and then he looks at Diluc wryly, “did you think we were sincerely together?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t put it past you,” Diluc responds and there is an edge to his voice that Kaeya bristles at. 

He pokes at it, “jealous?” 

Diluc shakes his head quickly and the furrow of his brow makes Kaeya think he is almost confused by the insinuation, “not at all. Concerned, if nothing else. Like I said, she’s been through heartbreak already.” Diluc leans back, eyeing his brother, “and well, your reputation precedes you.” 

“And which is that?” Kaeya asks and though his voice is cold, affected, there is a thorn in it. 

“Of a heartbreaker.” Diluc replies bluntly, and then he chides, “don’t play dumb now. You can see why I’d be concerned for someone known as Mondstadt’s Heart in your company.” 

The irony isn’t lost on Kaeya. 

“You wound me,” he drawls, eye flashing in the morning light. “I’ve nothing but good intentions with her. I’m trying to protect her.” 

Diluc hums as if he doesn’t believe him and perhaps, if Kaeya were in a worse mood, he’d goad him further. If the day wasn’t waiting for him and he didn’t need Diluc’s help and it wasn’t for the sake of your safety, Kaeya would try to get him to say the word he is certain that Diluc is thinking of him;

Liar. 

But instead, Kaeya says, “I trust you’ll keep this a secret. Play along when we require it. And most of all, watch out for her until we can get this resolved.” 

Any bitterness or anger or irritation in Diluc melts now. His head dips into a sincere nod, “of course. Anything she needs.” 

Ever the noble knight, Kaeya thinks dryly, looking at his brother’s strong but kind face. Bitterness twists somewhere inside of him for some reason, makes his shoulders square. Still, for you, he cannot help but say with sincerity; 

“Thank you.” 

And when he turns on his heel to leave, his face is a mask, except for the small, downward draw of a puzzled brow. 

His mind swims and his heart is a thorn somewhere in his chest for reasons he can’t name. 

But as he always does, he quiets both. Hushes them harshly, like telling secrets as a child, and looks ahead, even if he desperately wants to glance behind him. 

***

POSTFACE TO SCENE VI

Streets of Mondstadt again but a late afternoon hush has fallen over the city. Orange-dark and soft. Children are being called home. People are wandering home from work. The day is ending sweetly. 

“I have to grab my diary again.” You tell Kaeya and you’re careful to keep your voice light. 

Kaeya tilts his head and considers you, “when did you hide it again–?” 

“A day or two ago. I hid it in the morning.” You respond. 

“Wouldn’t I have been with you?” He asks. 

You shake your head, “it was when you were checking in with Jean.” 

“You little sneak,” Kaeya says, looking at you in a newfound light. “You’re quick. How did you get to the Cathedral and back in time?” 

You open your mouth to respond, but promptly shut it when he suddenly stops your brisk walk by grabbing your upper arm, “and didn’t you learn your lesson? I thought we decided you shouldn’t go off on your own anymore.” 

You pull at him a little, but he tightens his grip, unrelenting. “It’s dangerous.” 

His voice has gone stern and lower and you do feel properly chastised as he gazes at you. He’s being serious for once; the easy, light-hearted tone replaced with something richer and darker. 

(And Archons help you, it does something to you, to see him serious and stern, voice pitched like that for you. You flush darkly.)

“I’m sorry,” you say, “but I was quick. And it wasn’t–” 

“I didn’t think I’d have to worry about you wandering off like a child. Or deliberately sneaking away–” 

“I’m not a child!” You say, now with more fire beneath your own voice. “And I didn’t wander off–!” 

“You went back to the Cathedral.” Kaeya accuses and you shake your head sharply. 

“I hid it at the Knights headquarters.” You say and finally pull your arm from his grip, “and I didn’t disobey you, since you’re going to get all worked up about it.” 

You turn away from him with your nose in the air, perhaps aware that you’re acting a little churlish. You can hear his huff as you walk away. 

(Desperately, you want him to follow. Your heart sings it; follow, follow, follow. And he does, but–)

You can tell he isn’t willing to admit he’s wrong. 

“Why do you keep hiding it, anyways?” He asks. 

You don’t answer him. 

When he realizes the game you’re playing, he shakes his head, “you’re a brat.” 

You round on him, cheeks heated, and just to dig in, you say, “and you’re a brute. Don’t speak to me like that. And don’t handle me like that, either.” 

Kaeya’s brows quirk in surprise. You feel as if he can’t help himself, “Mondstadt’s princess is too fragile for a little scolding?” 

“I’m not fragile,” you snip back, “and I didn’t deserve that scolding.” 

An unbearably handsome and smug smile crosses his face, “but you are a princess?” 

Heat tears down into you with a vengeance. Oh, he’s so–

“You’re insufferable.” You tell him, turning away once more, but you’ve lost much of your temper. Especially as he lazily follows after you, even more so when he smoothly drawls;

“Sorry for being a brute.” 

“I’m not going to apologize.” You quip back and you’re met with his laugh, sweet and low and husky. 

You can feel your ears burn. 

He catches up to your side and because the two of you are in public, he slips his hand around your waist and pulls you into his side. “Fine,” he agrees, “I’ll concede when I know I’ve lost.” 

A smile twitches at your own lips and you tuck into his side like you might belong there. You can still feel that heat, deep and burying itself beneath your skin. You try to stifle it. You think it’ll only grow, with the way his hand slides along the bend of your hip. 

As you approach the Knights’ Headquarters, he finally asks, “another secret hiding place of yours?” 

And you finally answer him, “one of many.” Then you decide to add, “and I hide it because you’d be surprised at the amount of people who’d like to take a peek at my diary.” You dare yourself to finally glance at him, afraid that you’ll see how handsome he is. 

(Your fears are confirmed most terribly.) 

“Venti is the biggest culprit, anyways.” You continue. 

He laughs now easily. And then he hums, “I’ll be honest, my interest is piqued now.” 

You shove him a little, laughing yourself, and dart off. 

Your heart sings follow, follow, follow–

And he chases and chases and chases, at your heels, on your skirts, and all over Mondstadt. 

***

PRELUDE TO SCENE VII

In an old, cramped costume and prop room, shadowed except for the gold light from an old lamp with a frilly shade. Light bounces on sequence and shimmering fabric, ruffles and furs are bronzed, patterns pop and feathers poke out from the layers and layers of costumes. Bits and bobbins are scattered around; oddities and prop-weapons are tucked into corners. 

You are wading through the sea of fabric. Klee, a burst of red in a wash of silver and blue costumes, pokes her head out excitedly. 

Kaeya leans against the doorway, watching the pair of you. He’s shadowed so heavily to the audience that we can’t quite make out his face; perhaps just the slip of a fond smile. 

“Look! Look!” Klee cries happily, pulling a gown of liquid silver, shimmering material. It looks like starlight. “So sparkly!” 

You and Kaeya had agreed to take her with you for a while after Jean had caught her attempting to sneak away from her room again. Though you spend less time with Klee than Kaeya tends to, you’ve still aided Jean with her quite a bit. She loves to come to your shows and in the summer months, when there are arts camps that your troupe leads, Klee is often among the participants. 

(She does, in fact, cause some chaos, much to the dismay of your fellow actors. You adore her all the same; besides, you’ve always liked a show with a bit of a bang.) 

“I wore that once,” you tell Klee, “I played a princess from the moon in that play.” 

“A princess!” Klee exclaims, bunching the fabric in her small hands. “Did you have a crown?” 

You hum, pausing in your original search for a particular costume for one of the shows you’ll be performing in during Windblume. “I’m sure it’s around here somewhere,” you say then and you turn away to begin hunting amongst all the objects. You open trunks to rifle through them, pulling out all sorts of items; wooden swords and plastic wine glasses, candles, and even a babydoll. 

Klee picks up one of the wooden swords immediately. 

“That was for a show about pirates.” You tell Klee. 

“Argh!” She cries, brandishing the swords, much too large for her, towards Kaeya. 

“A fearsome pirate!” He says and picks up the other wooden sword to hold it up to her own, “are you here to steal my treasure?” 

You smile to yourself and fondness blooms like a flower inside of your chest; for Klee and for Kaeya, how eager he is to jump into her theatrics. 

“No, you be the pirate!” Klee then says, “you have the eyepatch!” 

This makes you laugh, full and warm in the small, cramped space of the costume room. 

“Alright, I’m here to steal all your treasure!” He says, readjusting his sword to a playful fighting stance. He glances at you, just behind Klee, and then adds, “and I’ll be kidnapping the fair lady behind you.” 

The smile he gives you is roguish. Devilish. Your heart flutters like a bird’s beating wing. 

But, you are nothing, if not an actor. 

“Oh, no. Captain Klee,” you say seriously, wide eyed and she looks at you as you plead, “you have to save me!” 

“I’ll protect you!” Klee promises, “and the treasure! You’ll never get past me!” 

This begins a battle of wooden swords, where Klee uses both hands to swing at Kaeya wildly. He parries gently, careful with each pass of the fake sword, but crying out with effort sincerely as if she’s delivering blow after massive blow.

Klee, wild little girl that she is, begins to knock over costumes, racks of clothes, and lone props set half-hazardly against the walls. 

Kaeya, seeing the disaster, pretends to let one of Klee’s blows knock his sword from his hand. 

But then, in a quick burst, he’s gotten the sword from her own grip, too. And she squeals, “run!” 

What ensues then, is nothing short of chaos, as you and Klee run around row and row of costumes. You’re dizzy with laughter as you round prop furniture and fake carriages and Archons knows what. Kaeya chases eagerly and Klee takes your hand, pulling harder. 

You’re thankful you’re dressed in trousers today, a blouse not dissimilar to the kind Kaeya wears beneath his coat. 

It makes for easy movement, so the two of you rush and dart among the wild colors and dramatic paintings left to gather dust; all once a part of a story, a play, a show, and now perhaps long forgotten. 

You throw a skirt at Kaeya’s head and he pretends to be deterred, Klee laughing and pulling on you harder, running away again. 

Your chase comes to a halt when he finally manages to corner the two of you. Klee stands bravely in front of you. 

“It looks like I’ve got you cornered, Captain Klee.” Kaeya says, stepping towards the two of you. 

But you catch the little glint in her eyes. You know it well. 

In an instant, and with a great battle cry, she launches herself at Kaeya.

As easy as ever, he catches her, swings her through the air and her peels of laughter are bright and pinging off the walls. 

“You made a brave last stand.” Kaeya says, wrangling her until he’s got her around the waist, hanging upside down as she laughs herself breathless. “But it seems I’ve won. I’ll be taking the fair lady and treasure now.” 

Kaeya looks at you, a lightning crack of blue in the dark. Heat swarms your cheeks for reasons you wish you didn’t know. 

Klee squirms, “no! It’s not over yet!” 

Kaeya snorts at that, “Klee, I’ve got you upside down.” 

But she kicks in his hold– “be careful!” 

You rush towards the pair of them, reaching to catch her as she slips from part of Kaeya’s hold with all her fussing and fighting now. She wriggles and kicks with all her might. 

He rights her just as she frees herself and in the process of all her flailing, and all the two of your attempts at keeping her from falling, she takes the three of you down in a heap. 

Thankfully, your fall is softened by costumes strewn about from all the previous fighting. Klee falls on top of you and Kaeya just barely manages to catch himself, twisting his body at the last minute to fall onto his side beside the two of you. He grunts and you yelp a little with the weight of Klee. 

And then, when the dust has settled, Klee begins to laugh again. 

You turn to look at Kaeya, who looks at you in return. 

You share a silent conversation; 

Are you okay? 

Yes, are you? 

And then your own laugh is pulled from you and your arms come around Klee, laughing with her fully. Freely. For a moment, you can feel Kaeya looking at the two of you. You can feel the weight of his gaze, the ache of fondness, of warmth. 

But then Kaeya’s laugh joins in the symphony, lower, softer, but so genuine it makes you want to bottle the sound and keep it. You want to be able to pull that sound from him all the time, for everything. 

You fall back into the heap of costumes, laying on your back with a contented sigh, and Klee climbs eagerly over you. 

Kaeya, after a moment, falls back with you. 

His shoulder brushes against your own. 

And he pulls Klee from your stomach to lift her again, another bout of her laughter erupting like twinkling bells. 

“Perhaps you’ve won this one, Captain Klee.” Kaeya says, setting her back down gently, even as she squirms to sit up atop him. 

She pulls at his ears and he twists a little, “I’ve defeated the pirate!” 

And then you notice, just beyond Klee’s head, high above on a shelf;

“The crown!” 

Klee is up in an instant and Kaeya is quick to follow her. 

He offers his hand to you, which you take. You let yourself be enfolded in his grip a moment, to notice the calluses on his hands, and the way he overtakes your own. He pulls you up from the ground. 

You have to look away–from him, from his hand over yours. 

This time, when he lifts Klee up to get the crown, no one falls over. 

And then carefully, you’re affixing the silver crown to her head. Its sheen is glossy and bends and curls in half-moons all over, swirls of astrology. Opal and fair blue jewels dot and sparkle among it like stars. 

It’s a little big on Klee’s small head, but nonetheless, you gasp, “oh, you look beautiful!” 

“Princess Klee, what shall be your first decree of the kingdom?” Kaeya asks as he holds her up on his hip. Her small arms are wrapped around his neck. The sight is precious, so heartwarming that your smile almost aches. “As a Knight, I’ll see to your orders immediately.” 

“That we get ice cream!” 

Kaeya and you share a look and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you. 

“Ice cream?” Kaeya asks, “but you haven’t even had lunch.”

“You said as my Knight that you would see to my orders immediately.” Klee responds and Kaeya looks at you, perhaps a little surprised, as you laugh even harder. 

And then, “you’re not going to disobey the princess, are you?” You ask him. 

“Yeah!” Klee agrees, “do you want ice cream, too?” 

Kaeya eyes you. Your smile is a cat’s curl, sweet and mischievous, “I’d love ice cream, Princess Klee.” 

“See! The moon princess says we should get ice cream, too!” Klee announces. 

Kaeya’s brows arch upwards as he looks at you, “oh, you’re a princess now, too?” 

Your smile is wide, “apparently.” 

His own grin is fond, despite the way he pretends to be reluctant, “in that case, who am I to deny the wishes of not one, but two princesses?” 

“Yes!” Klee exclaims and wriggles in his hold so that he’ll set her down. She rushes towards the door, “lets go right now!” 

Kaeya looks at you, “did you find what you’re looking for?” 

“Not at all,” you say with a smile, “but I’ll figure it out. It seems we have more pressing matters to attend to.” 

Kaeya looks back at Klee and perhaps, this is the most open you’ve seen him; with Klee and with you. He adores her. He turns back to you. 

He looks at you with such warmth. 

Then he smirks, crooked and handsome, “then after you, princess.” 

You feel a prickle of warmth among your cheeks, the tips of your ears, as you turn to follow Klee out the door and into the afternoon light. It’s so bright for a moment that you have to blink against it, before all the world enfolds before your eyes. 

And with the crown wobbling atop her head, Klee bounds towards ice cream. You follow after her eagerly, taking up her little hand. Kaeya rounds the back, right on your heels. 

He watches the two of you, softened like the sweet ice cream, maybe by the sun–maybe by the girl in your arms.

Maybe by your own softness and the light that touches you, that reflects back onto the world. 

SCENE VII

Darkening evening; somewhere in the countryside of Mondstadt, far outside the city gates. The tall grass sways. You and Kaeya are on a picnic blanket. There is a bottle of wine between you. If it was real, it’d be a perfect romantic evening. 

Later, our world should be revealed through the eyes of Kaeya; unknowing and naive for once. Startled with its sudden beauty. We should also ask, has the world always been this magical? Have I missed it all along? 

“Windblume is soon,” you comment, “rehearsals will pick up in preparation for it–sorry for making you walk out to Springvale so much.” You’re reclined back into the blanket and Kaeya has been careful not to look long or hard at you. He knows you’ll look fetching and lovely. 

“The walk is nice,” Kaeya replies to appease you, “I don’t mind. Besides, Venti’s with you for many of those, isn’t he?” 

You take a swig from the bottle before passing it back to him. His fingers curl around the neck, brushing your own. You swallow slowly. “He is, thankfully. Though I’m not sure how much help a bard would be in danger–us artists are all rather useless.” You joke, “lovers and not fighters, you know?” 

Kaeya presses the bottle to his lips and thinks of your own on it before he takes a rather large sip himself. 

“I think Venti would surprise you,” Kaeya comments and then he tilts his head, careful with his next question, “what all do you know of Venti?” 

You laugh a little, surprised by his question, “what do you mean?” 

“He’s–” Kaeya struggles to find the right words, “strange, isn't he? He has a strange…history.” 

“Do you know it?” You ask.

“Do you?” 

You laugh again, shaking your head at him, “you’re always doing that.” 

“What?” Kaeya feigns innocence. 

“Avoiding my questions,” you wrap your hand around his that still has the wine and pull it from his grasp. “In truth, I don’t know much of Venti’s past. But I know who he is now and that’s what matters to me.” 

Kaeya hums lightly, watching as you take another slow pull of wine, throat working. He looks away. 

“He is strange, though.” You agree, “I’ve always had…a sense of him.” 

“How so?” Kaeya asks, eyes glancing up at the stars above him. 

“He’s otherworldly, isn’t he? Or…he seems rather old, sometimes.” You shake your head slightly, “I can’t quite put my finger on it. But sometimes, I don’t think he’s human at all. He feels timeless.” 

Kaeya can’t help but smile to himself. You are very clever. So keen. 

Once more, he is struck by how easily you seem to be able to see through everyone, even without fully knowing. 

Instead, Kaeya says, “I don’t know, he seems rather immature to me. A drunkard.” Then, he swipes the bottle back from you. 

You laugh, full and lovely, “oh, says you! You’re one of his best drinking buddies!” 

Kaeya takes several more deep pulls of the wine as if to prove a point, only to get you to laugh again, which you do, before you reach to pull it back from his lips. 

“Don’t drink it all! I still want some!” And now it’s his turn to laugh, the taste of wine tarte and sweet on his lips, as he pulls from your reach. You topple closer to him as you grab for it and he carefully pulls it away from your grasp once more. 

Kaeya plants his hand on your shoulder to hold you away as he takes another long pull of wine. Some spills from his lips and he can feel it on his chin, dipping down into his throat.

He finally hands you the bottle when he’s finished, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

And you’re looking at his throat.

He uses a knuckle to trace up the line of wine, and sucks it clean from the skin there.

His throat will be sticky and smell boozy and sweet until he returns home with you but for now, you are looking closely at his throat. 

He wonders if you’re thinking what he is. He wonders if you know how expressive you are, the sweet rounding out of your eyes, and the parting of your lips. 

You blink, as if clearing your pretty little head and then take a sip from the same bottle his own lips were just at. He lets you nurse it now since the pleasant flush of wine is already rising to his cheeks. 

You tip your head up towards the heavens and are awash in the lavender honey glow of the sunset. The sky is starting to darken, plum deep and rosy. It watercolors across your features, swims in the depth of your eyes. 

“The sky is so beautiful,” you say with soft awe. 

It’s like you’re seeing it for the first time all over again. 

It takes Kaeya great effort to drag his eyes away from you and up into the sky that has stolen your attention. 

It is beautiful. 

“I may be biased, but I think the sky is best in Mondstadt.” You continue. 

You take another swig of wine and he watches you wipe at the corner of your mouth this time, eyes following your hand, the flash of your tongue. 

“I won’t argue,” Kaeya agrees softly. 

“I think it’s all the open fields and hills. Everything is just so–” you let loose a breath, “free.” 

He can’t say he harbors the same amazement for Mondstadt. His feelings towards the nation have always been more convoluted than that; though he has grown into the seemingly charming Captain of the Knights, one of Mondstadt’s pride and joys, he does not quite feel the same adoration for it. 

He does not feel as connected as you are, as rooted so solidly here. 

As the sun slips away, you finally say, “would you like to see something?” 

Before he can answer, you’re standing, opening a palm up to help him stand as well. 

He looks at your open palm, so vulnerable, so unscarred and untouched. 

He takes it with uncertainty and almost tentativeness he can’t quite understand. But then you’re hauling him up and pulling him along. 

“Where are you taking me?” He asks. 

And you turn to smile over your shoulder, impish and lovely, “it’s a secret.”

If there is one thing Kaeya is good for, it’s secrets. He allows himself to be led over hill and slope, round and over, through a thicket of trees. 

He has a strong sense of direction and lay of the land, but even now, he feels rather–disorientated. Lost.  He holds tight to your hand. 

“Where are we?” He asks now. 

“I told you,” you reply, “it’s a secret.” 

“You do know, don’t you?” Kaeya drawls. 

You laugh, “yes, I know where we are! It’s not much further.” 

And then, as if the world had listened to your voice, you bring him around a loping bend, which opens up to a small, glittering lagoon. Trees droop and shade it, specifically a large, curling willow tree that hangs overhead. Blossoming trees of pink and white scatter their petals into the still, midnight blue water. Stars reflect on the surface, sparkling like diamonds. 

Kaeya blinks in surprise. It almost feels like an entirely new world he’d been transported into. 

More than that, he can’t believe this isn’t on his map. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard of a place like this. 

You wander to a small outcropping that leans out over the water. You peer down into it, then back at him. “Isn’t it lovely?” 

“How did you find this?” Kaeya asks, coming to your side in order to peer into the water. It’s nearly clear. And if it weren’t for the dying light, he’d be able to see clear into the bottom of the lagoon. More than that, what he can see are flashing, striking stones at the bottom. Like jewels, they glimmer and glow, refracting and transforming the light and water. 

It’s like the sky underwater. 

You pull your gaze away from the pond to look at him, to perhaps peer right into him in that uncanny way of yours. He fights the urge to squirm. 

But you smile, and you say, “if you listen closely, the world will reveal its secrets to you.” 

Kaeya tilts his head, surprised. And before he can be clever or smart-mouthed, you continue, “I know countless hidden places all over Mondstadt.” 

“Do you explore often?” He asks, trying to make sense of this. Of you. 

You shake your head, “not particularly. I told you–if you listen and you look and you’re open, all will reveal itself to you.” 

Kaeya doesn’t have the heart to argue with you. He doesn’t think of the world as magical as you do. And yet, you are the one who has found this place, magical as it is–

You suddenly begin to unlace the front of your corset. You pull roughly at it, until it loosens enough for you to slip it off and let it fall into the tall grass, beside the bottle of wine you’d set down. 

Then, you begin to pull the sleeves of your outer dress off, down over your shoulders to pool at your waist–

“What are you doing?!” Kaeya laughs in disbelief, turning his eyes away momentarily, until he realizes you’re at least still in a chemise. 

“Going for a swim,” you say easily, shimmying that outer layer completely off and stepping right out of it. You toe off your shoes and bend over to roll your stockings down your thigh. 

Kaeya, for a moment, can do nothing but gaze at you. 

As if you can sense it, you pick your head up to catch his gaze, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, still bent over with your back in a pretty curve. “You’re not going to make me swim alone, are you?” 

You’re such trouble, he thinks with a squeeze of his heart. 

He shucks off his coat to let it fall into the grass. 

You grin wildly, standing again and without another moment, leap off the outcropping and into the pool below. 

The splash is big and upends the calmness of the water, splattering drops everywhere. 

Kaeya watches you resurface as his fingers nimbly take apart his shirt, button by button to reveal his bare chest. He strips himself of boots and socks. 

And perhaps it's the wine, but he even goes to unbutton his pants, catching your eye from the water. Your eyebrows quirk in surprise and you say to him, “you should’ve told me you wanted to skinny dip!”

He laughs, hearty and warm, “I don’t. But I’d rather not walk home in wet pants.” 

Carefully, he pushes them off, leaving himself in just his dark briefs, revealing the muscles of his thighs. The chill of the evening air. 

He jumps in right after you and you shriek a little as he lands almost beside you. 

The water is cold, the plunge of it shocking his senses with a jolt. He pushes to the surface and breaks it, pushing the mess of his midnight hair away from his face. 

“It’s freezing!” Kaeya says.

“I thought you were good with the cold,” you respond and just to torment him, you give a splash to his face. He blinks back the water from his eye. 

Kaeya splashes you back immediately and you laugh. You wipe the water from your face. “It isn’t so bad.” You get out but your teeth are beginning to chatter and now it's Kaeya’s turn to laugh at you. 

“Do you swim here often?” He asks. 

You shake your head, “this is the first time–I had no idea the water was so cold!” You dunk lower beneath the water, “have to keep moving, I suppose.” 

And then you disappear from beneath the darkening surface. Kaeya can hardly see the bottom anymore as the last rays of light fall from the sky, but he can feel the current, the push and pull of the water around his legs as you move. 

You pop up on the other side of him, further away, dripping and shining in the beginning light of the moon, petals clinging to your bare chest and shoulders, tangled in your hair. 

He slips beneath the surface as well, quiet as can be, and blindly swims towards you in the dark. His hands reach, seeking–

They skim your legs until he gets his palm around your calf. He can hear your shriek of laughter, far away and soft, warbly to his ears. He pulls lightly and you kick, playful, giggles spilling out, and he swims for them now. 

He emerges right beside you and instantly, you’re on him, pushing his shoulders down momentarily to dunk him. 

He squabbles for you, with you, hands coming around your waist to pull you under and back up. You’re laughing wildly, fighting and twisting with him in the water.

You kick away from him, dive beneath the water and without thought, like he’s a child again, he follows you. 

The cold fades. 

And he’s laughing, “you little brat,” he says right after you use your feet to kick up a large splash back at him. 

He shakes his head, water flying free from him and onto you. 

“You dog!” you laugh, but this time, when you disappear beneath the water, you don’t resurface right away. 

The water goes still, except for his wading. 

He glances around, listening for you, waiting. He can hear the thud of his heart. The hoot of an owl. The world, soft and hushed at night. 

Your secret world, he thinks with amazement, just as you grab his leg from beneath the water. You don’t have the strength to pull him under at all, so you use him to pull yourself back up. Hand on his waist, then up on his chest, his shoulder, until you’re in front of him once more. 

If he was a better man, he’d band an arm around your waist, pull you in tight. 

If he was good and unmarred and open like you were, he’d feel you flush against him and know you the way you seem to know the world; eagerly and with all the love in your heart. 

Perhaps, selfishly, he has the urge to do so. 

He can’t decide if it’s fleeting or not, if he just wants to know what you’d taste like or what sort of sound you’d make against his lips. Or if something else shifts and simmers beneath his skin. He thinks you must draw that out in everyone, that half the world is likely in love with you, anyways. 

He’s no special man. 

There are better ones than him that should have you. Hands like his shouldn’t hold you, nor lips like his to kiss you. 

You are slick with petals and moonlight, shimmering in his vision. As the night wind brushes past you, you begin to shiver all over. 

“You’re going to catch a cold,” he says.

“So will you and then we’ll both be sick and miserable together.” You flash him that smile again, the mischievous, elated one. 

Kaeya shakes his head, “come on,” he urges, “we should head home before it gets any later.” He watches you shiver, teeth chattering, “And you get any colder.” 

Finally, you listen to him and let him corral you out of the water. 

It is cold with the sun set and dripping wet. He redresses swiftly, but pauses when he reaches his coat. 

He dusts it off and then drops it over your shoulders. 

“You’re cold, too!” You protest instantly, looking up at him and he can feel the way his shirt clings to his wet chest. 

“I like the cold, remember?” Kaeya responds and he affixes it to you, bundling you deep into it, grabbing it by the lapels to pull it shut around you. Perhaps half for your modesty; half because he’s an awful scoundrel and he knows all the world would love to see you like this. And he does not want them to. 

“Now, shall we go?” He asks and he offers you his arm. 

Your eyes are light, near glowing with the moon and stars, “we shall.” 

He escorts you home like a perfect, honest gentleman. His hands don’t stray and his eyes don’t, either. You sing and chirp like a bird. It fills up the night sky. 

But you’re in his coat and he thinks of your own hand on his hip, on his chest. He thinks of your laugh and wicked smile. He thinks of you like a nymph, in the water under the moonlight, in his dreams covered in petals. 

He thinks of you like a child does, alight and carefree.

He thinks of you with a strange, tremendous fear. 

If you listen closely, the world will reveal its secrets to you. 

He wonders if you could hear his heart at all, wonders if you can hear it now, across his apartment, all the way in his bed. You must, because it takes up all his chest, thuds deep inside him like a bell tolling, like a drum from a song he only knew as a boy. 

And he wonders what it’d reveal to you, if you ever manage to catch its melody. 

***

SCENE VIII

Outside of Angel’s Share, towards closing hour. A gold street lamp illuminates our world. Otherwise, it should be dark. The hush of the patrons from inside is a dull, low roar. We should feel alone on stage, though. Singular. 

All it takes is a moment. 

A split second that Kaeya disappears inside of Angel’s Share to replace your empty glass of wine with another full one. You’d wanted air, tipsy and flushed, and previously giggly with Kaeya and Venti. 

From around the corner, in the darkness of the street, a man appears. 

Instantly, your hackles rise. Your intuition is a sharp, prickly thing inside of you. It catapults your heart into a race. 

You try to soothe yourself; you tell yourself you’re paranoid. 

You greet him like you would any Mondstadtian. 

“Hello. Coming for a drink?” 

But he doesn’t respond. 

Your smile drops from your face. Something inside of you sharpens and you notice the slightest move of his muscles.

You think all prey must know the heartbeat before their predator pounces. They have to, if they’re going to outrun them. 

But the door swings open and Kaeya is out into the night once more, wine in hand. 

His eyes lock solidly on the man and he must know, Kaeya is too clever and too keen of a man to not know. 

His arm slips around you as he hands you the glass of dark wine. 

Strangely, he kisses your cheek in greeting, and then he asks you, and the man, and to the night, “made a friend already?” 

“It seems,” you respond and you pick your smile up, though it feels wobbly, and try to plaster it back on your face. “So?” You prompt the man carefully, your voice thinner than you prefer, so small, “you’re coming for a drink?” 

The man is frozen. 

But finally, he says, “just walking past. I’ll be on my way.” 

“Good evening to you!” Kaeya calls jovially, squeezing your waist. The moment he is out of earshot, Kaeya is looking you over. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes,” you breathe, “he didn’t do anything.” 

Kaeya glances towards the figure, growing fainter, “go inside to Venti and Diluc.” 

There’s something strange in his tone, in the command. 

Fear crawls up your spine like a spider on spindly, tickling legs. Goosebumps erupt all over the nape of your neck. Your breath goes tight. 

“But–” you start.

“Go,” he says, with more of a bass in his voice, deep from his chest and he presses at you, urging you inside. “I’ll return shortly.” 

A firmer nudge towards the door makes you stumble. You glance back at him. 

He waits until you disappear back into the tavern and immediately, your eyes flicker over the small crowd, finding a burst of red hair. 

Venti is right beside Diluc. 

You rush to them. 

Instantly, Diluc must know something is amiss, because he comes around the side of the bar to meet you halfway, to pull you away from the crowd. 

He pulls the glass of wine from your hands and sets it aside, lost. 

“What is it?” He urges gently, large, calloused hands opening to take yours.

“A Fatui member–” you get out, “I think Kaeya went after him.” 

Venti appears at your side as Diluc peers above your head, at the door, as if he may be able to see through it. 

He curses softly, “are you hurt? Did they do anything to you?” 

“I’m alright, Kaeya came out and scared him off, I think.” You answer but you can feel the quick flutter of your heart, the press and squeeze of it desperately in your chest that suddenly feels too small for it. 

“Venti?” Diluc starts, but Venti cuts him off, as if he’d known Diluc’s thoughts;

“She’s safe with me.” 

In an instant, Diluc has slipped from you as well, rushing towards the door and into the night before you can even call after him. 

“Come on,” Venti says, taking your hands to lead you further away from the crowds and up to the top level. He makes you sit, pulling a chair up beside your own. 

“Should they have gone after them-?” You ask distantly, your own eyes drifting to the door as if you might be able to see them now. “Isn’t it dangerous?”

“They’ll be able to handle it!” Venti replies, rather chipper, but then he softens, “you don’t have to worry about them.” 

You catch your lip between your teeth. Your mind races with images of fights, of one of them getting injured. You imagine a Fatui member stepping through the door for you instead of Kaeya or Diluc. You imagine they never step through the door again. 

Kaeya said he’d be back but–

You can feel your fear grow large and strong inside of you, some old wound that bursts open. 

He won’t ever come, like he said he would. 

Your breath gets caught somewhere, ribs stuck on a sharp little inhale. You can hardly think straight, only can imagine waiting here. All night. All morning. 

You get the absurd idea that you’ll wait here forever, in limbo, for a man to walk through the door. 

“Hey,” Venti nudges your knee with his, “they’ll be back soon. They’ll be okay.” 

“You’ll wait with me?” You ask and your voice is surprisingly small.

“Of course,” Venti replies, “I’m not going anywhere!” 

And he does wait with you as your worry grows larger and more untamable, bramble thick and thorny inside of you. You’re near shaking and he tries to say, again and again, in his sweet voice, that they’ll be okay. They’ll be back soon. 

But the tavern empties until it is just you and Venti. The moon rises high in the sky. 

And you pace. And you wait. And you wring your hands and bite your lip bloody. 

Venti tries to soothe you to no avail. 

The night grows long like a transforming beast. 

But in an instant, it’s all vanished–

The door swings open and you rush to the railing, heart jumping wildly, to see who it is. 

Kaeya and Diluc waltz back into the tavern, bickering with each other. You can hear their voices, low and heated with tempers. 

You rush down the stairs and for a moment, you want to rush right into Kaeya’s arms. You have the urge to find him there, solid and warm beneath your touch. You want him to bundle you up, to soothe you. 

But you stop yourself, a little flushed and out of breath. 

“You’re okay?” You get out, eyes finally flickering between them. 

“Totally fine,” Kaeya says smoothly, “though, rather empty-handed.” 

His remark is towards Diluc. 

“Oh like it’s my fault that–” 

“It is!” Kaeya instantly snaps. 

“We wouldn’t have been able to–” 

“Did you find anything out?” Venti interrupts their fighting. 

“Nothing of good use,” Kaeya responds, “the Fatui member circled back to the tavern, presumably to continue to keep an eye on you.” He huffs, “and if anything, is more suspicious that we’re onto them because of Diluc–” 

“It’s hardly suspicious to see me around my own tavern.” Diluc drawls. 

Kaeya catches your gaze and his face transforms. He must realize that you’re still shaken and afraid, that you look smaller than usual, because in an instant, he’s shrugged out of his own coat and thrown it over your shoulders once more. 

“Perhaps I should get you home, hm?” He says, once more carefully bundling you into the garment, wrapping it around you like a cloak. He puts his hands on your trembling shoulders. “Enough excitement for one night.” 

“I’m sorry–”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Kaeya scolds softly, “there’s no reason to apologize. You’re frightened, which is a completely normal reaction to have.” 

You can feel Diluc’s eyes on the two of you. You stop yourself from cinching your grip around Kaeya’s wrists, hands still on your shoulders. You stop yourself from clinging to him desperately. 

He then looks to Diluc and Venti, “Diluc can fill you in. We’ll be leaving.” 

“I’m going to tail your follower,” Diluc says, “I’m going to stay out and search for answers.”

“Diluc–” you start, shaking your head. 

Kaeya frowns momentarily, brows furrowing. He sends a fleeting glare to Diluc. But when his gaze returns to yours, he softens, and coos, “he’ll be fine. We should head home. It’s late.” And then to Diluc and Venti, “We’ll be in touch.” 

You want to take his hand. You want–

His hand on your lower back guides you out of the tavern, into the crisp night once more. Instantly, you glance around, and search for your wretched shadow. Your heart stumbles into a strange little tempo. 

“It’s alright,” Kaeya murmurs, pulling you in closer. 

Without Diluc and Venti, under the guise of your false relationship now, you lean into the touch and into his side. 

For a moment, the world is silent as you begin the familiar trek back to Kaeya’s apartment. The night is as it always is; the stars gaze down upon you in silver pricks of light, cold and distant. The streets are dead at this hour and you can hear the faint, soft hoot of an owl. 

Your mind churns, spinning over itself in a tumble, and all it can seem to repeat now is don’t leave, don’t go away, don’t leave, please stay. 

Belatedly, you realize you’ve been led into Kaeya’s apartment, which has become a great source of comfort to you. You exhale hard. You feel as if someone has loosened all your strings and you drop like an unmoored puppet. 

Kaeya carefully removes his coat from you. 

“I’ll run you a bath.” He says gently and he moves to slip away from you.

“Kaeya–” his name bursts from your mouth before you can stop it. 

He turns, expectant, waiting. 

You try to unstick your voice from where it clings in your throat. 

And when you do, you surprise yourself to say, “I didn’t like when you took off and–” 

Left me. 

You don’t know why, but the phrase itself is enough to make tears build to a sharp pressure. You can feel it behind your eyes, in your nose. Your throat closes in tight with it, swallowing around the new lump caught in your throat. 

“I was scared you wouldn’t come back.” 

Desperately, childishly, you fight back tears for some reason.

Your lip wobbles. 

Quickly, you press the heels of your hands into your eyes, “‘m sorry–I don’t know why I’m–” 

You don’t catch Kaeya’s face; you don’t see the understanding that washes over him, the sudden softening of his whole body. Slack with his realization.

He goes to you, crosses the space he’d put there in the first place, “I’m sorry to make you worry.” 

His hands touch your shoulders, and then they slip up, pinkies against your own, before his hands fold over yours and gently, as kindly as possible, he pulls them from your face. 

“Oh, darling, don’t cry.” Kaeya hushes softly, “I’m fine–Diluc’s okay. We came back.” 

You sniffle, “I know–” 

“It’s alright,” he murmurs, and then you’re in his arms, being tucked into his chest. Your hands are up, before they settle, curling into the front of his shirt. He tightens his hold on you, presses your face into him, cradles you to him. “I’m sorry,” he soothes, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” 

You exhale hard, rough, through the ebbing of your tears. 

You can feel a bruise somewhere, blossoming deep inside of you, growing into its own fierce ache because something has just prodded at it. 

In truth, you feel as if you could fall apart in his arms, that you could start crying and perhaps never stop. But you cling to him and you cling to your shaky breath, trying to force it into being even and slow, trying to tame the beast of your fear. Of your hurt. 

You manage to muffle into his chest, “will you stay with me tonight?” 

And he knows what you mean; he knows you mean, will you keep watch of me? Will you protect me? Will you stay until I close my eyes? 

Will you still be there when I open them again? 

“Yes,” he promises gently, and then he pulls away to inspect you, to catch the watery, raw look in your eyes. “I’ll even tell you another story.” 

And you laugh, let it burst from your aching chest in a rough sound. He smiles, too, at the corners. 

 You tuck yourself back into his arms, though, unable to leave. He does not press you. 

He just holds you. 

And you can hear the drum of his heart in your ear, the steady beat, and the little skip, before he lets out a slow breath and evens it once more. Carefully, he keeps tempo, and carefully, you listen. 

You wish you could fall asleep to the sound. 

Instead, you finally manage to say, “I’d take a bath, too…” 

And now Kaeya laughs, lovely and warm and in your ear. He squeezes you affectionately, sways a little with you in his arms and you teeter with him, lifting your head from his chest to look up at him with a horribly fond smile, and tears caught somewhere on your lashes. 

He pulls away so that you can stand on your own two feet. Cold rushes in. You want him back, you want him back–

But he makes a show of dipping into a little bow, “of course, princess, and shall I carry you there as well?” 

And he looks like the prince you imagine in the stories he tells. 

Your laugh chases away your tears, the way the sun will chase away the night. The way a fire melts snow and ice, the way all the world softens when you know what you’re listening for. Your heart aches something fierce and when you fall asleep that night, to the sound of Kaeya’s smooth, rolling timbre, and you wish he’d stay until morning. 

You wish you’d wake up to the sound of his heart beating, wish you could hear it again and memorize the sound, the symphony that you strain to hear in the crux of his so well-guarded chest.

In the morning, he’s gone from his place in his bedroom, like a ghost, like a dream. But again and again, you search for him.

He hasn’t left. He’s in the kitchen. Not far, but not close. Somewhere in the middle, in limbo, in another world entirely. 

But again in the morning light, he turns to find you standing in the arch of his doorway, in his clothes, like perhaps you’ve always belonged there afterall. 

***

SCENE IX

Kaeya’s apartment, night, blue moon in the window. Heavy and lovely. There’s water running in the bathroom and Kaeya waits for you outside. We see his profile as he stares at the leather-bound diary we’ve come to know as yours. It tempts him.

Kaeya is too curious and too cautious and too distrusting to let your diary lay out in the open while you prepare for bed. 

In an instance, he’s swept it up. 

He isn’t quite sure what he’s going to find but he certainly wasn’t expecting–

Notes to a song scribbled halfhazerdly on the page. Lyrics beneath it. A comment in your looping handwriting, as if added later;

I don’t think I’ll sing this one ever again after Liyue. 

And then a diary entry, dated nearly two years ago. 

Retuning home after everything and being celebrated when I nearly ran away from everyone for a man who left me at the altar. I was so ready to leave them all behind and disappear. I always dreamed of running and running and running. And yet, they’ve welcomed me home into their arms again. My guilt is tremedous and shivering and hungry. I don’t think I’ll ever–

Kaeya shuffles through the pages, startled, perhaps with it’s honesty. 

Another page is a poem, half crossed out;

Wishless, loveless

Love to wish 

On a love

That will never come

I imagine you running to me

Open armed–

Wishing you’d shown up that dawn. 

But like a child  

I cry 

And cling 

To stars

On wishes 

On a love

That wil never come. 

Something stirs inside him. He shouldn’t be reading this. And yet, he must know. Kaeya frowns and skips away, pages ahead, searching for more–there must be more than just your own thoughts. Another diary entry dated nearly a year ago. 

Admittedly, it was horribly foolish of me to sleep with Rosaria at all, but if she asked again–

Kaeya’s brows jump up in surprise, mouth popping open. He skims the page. 

I keep admiring the marks she left on me in the mirror. I keep thinking of her pinning me against the wall again and–

Kaeya is startled by the curl of jealousy that drifts through him. He’s half tempted to read on but also something inside of him sours. He doesn’t want to think of you with someone else. He doesn’t want to think of Rosaria’s marks all over your body. He flips a little further through the pages, before the door to the bathroom finally pops open. 

“What are you doing?” You’re clean faced, ready for bed, and he can smell the rosy lotion you use. Powdery soft and delicate. 

Well, he’s been caught red handed, hasn’t he? Might as well–

“Reading your diary.” He drawls, holding it up cheekily. 

“Kaeya!” You squeal his name in a way that makes him want to hear it again, and again, and again until your voice breaks with it. You lunge for him and he dances away nimbly. 

He flips to another page, more recent, and catches his name on the page. He reads it aloud;

“It doesn’t help that Kaeya smells nice, either. And his voice–his voice drives me wild. I could listen to him–” Kaeya is grinning from ear to ear, holding the notebook from your reach as you paw and clamber for it, “is this what you think of me?” He preens. 

“You’re so–!” You cry, fingers digging into his wrist as you wrestle with him for the diary, laughing through your struggle as he easily flips you around with a gentle twist of your arm. You squeal again and he feels like being selfish so he presses until you yelp a little. And then your back is to his chest, one arm caught by his hand and pressing gently into your lower back, while his other holds the journal in front of your face. 

He leans in close to read more, hooking his chin over your shoulder, “And his hands are so large and rough. He’s like a real-life prince. Charming and brave and kin–” 

“Kaeya! Stop it! Don’t read anymore!” You’re laughing but your voice is going shrill and high, terrified. “You’re the worst!” 

Kaeya snaps the journal shut, if only to appease you, “ah, that’s not what you really think of me now, is it?” He purrs. 

You toss him off, finally wrenching the diary from his grasp and darting across the room. You turn to face him, clutching the journal to your front. Your hair is a wild mess. Your chest is heaving a little, skin revealed by the pretty little ruffled nightdress you wear to bed. 

“You’re a scoundrel,” you accuse breathlessly.

He feels it, looking at that exposed skin and the way you’re panting. 

“Not a prince?” He sings. 

“Kaeya!” You shriek again and for a moment, he thinks you’re going to throw it back at him. But you still yourself and try to glare at him without laughing, “what else did you find out?” 

“Not much,” Kaeya lies, eye glinting, smirk crooking across his face sharply, “but you and Rosaria, huh?” 

He watches your mortification blossom in a slow realization. 

“That was a one time thing.” You get out. 

“Doesn’t sound like you wanted it to be–”

You do throw the journal at him now and he laughs, and you laugh, even as you stomp back over to him and allow him to hand it to you gently. He smooths down all the ruffled pages, too, pressing it back into your palms. 

“I am sorry my curiosity got the best of me.” He says, schooling his features. 

“No you’re not,” you tsk, half-heartedly glaring at him. 

“Not particularly,” he agrees, “does it upset you, though?” He presses gently. 

You think about it for a moment, nose scrunching up in thought. 

“Not really,” you finally settle on. “Though embarrassing, it’s not anything I wouldn’t tell you. Or eventually tell you.” 

Your honesty nearly blinds him. 

“Really?” He asks, startled. 

You nod, “really. All you had to do is ask, you know?” 

Kaeya hums lightly but this has struck him very keenly. He suddenly feels very serious and somber. He wants to scold you for it, for some reason. Don’t you know you shouldn’t just–reveal everything? To him, of all people? Don’t you have self-preservation? Aren’t you scared? 

Is there nothing in the world you could want to hide from him? 

Are you really–as candid as you seem? So open?  

You bid him goodnight in a sweet voice. 

And the thing that gets him the most, is that you don’t even take your diary with you. 

You leave it out on the coffee table, where it’d been when he’d first swept it up. 

He doesn’t dare touch it now. 

Worse than that, he can hardly sleep, with the journal beside him. And the moon high and large, gazing down at him curiously, as he thinks about you over and over. In his bed. 

As an open book. 

***

SCENE X

Angel’s Share once more as we know it, softly lit at night. Quieter than usual, perhaps duller than usual, too. You’re nowhere to be found. Kaeya and Venti are at the bar that Diluc is behind. Kaeya gives the audience his shoulder, a quarter of his face but no more. 

“Oh, she hides the diary as a joke for me–it’s like a game!” Venti laughs. “I’m sure I know everything in it. She doesn’t really keep secrets, you know?” 

Kaeya is well aware of the games you and Venti play now. He swears the pair of you only communicate in music notes, riddles written in iambic pentameter, and wild goose chases. 

“I find that hard to believe,” Kaeya responds curiously. 

“Not everyone is like you.” Diluc says dryly and Kaeya feels particularly prickly tonight so he squares a look at Diluc and responds;

“It’s not as if you’d know.” 

Venti is quick to jump between them before Diluc can retaliate, “well, she really can’t keep a secret. Which is funny because I think everyone in the world trusts her with them. Secrets flock to her.” 

Kaeya swallows a swig of wine, “what do you mean?” 

“Everyone opens up to her. All the time. Before performances, after them, just in the tavern or while she’s buying eggs. She holds all of them.” Venti explains. And then he smiles as he realizes something, “I suppose, with you around lately, people aren’t as keen to share.” 

“I can pull secrets out of people.” Kaeya defends. 

“Yes, because you’re clever and silver-tongued. You swindle secrets. She just–” Venti has a gleam to his eyes, “catches them and holds them. They’re freely given to her. Perhaps even she knows them without being spoken.” 

Kaeya hums lightly, tilting his head, “that sounds exhausting, to hold everyone’s secrets.” 

“She seems more well rested than ever with you.” Venti responds cheekily. 

Diluc scoffs. 

Kaeya’s jaw locks. He tries to remain light when he snarks, “I don’t suppose you’re going to lecture me about being careful with her, too?” 

He’s gotten it from Diluc and Jean. His Acting Grand Master had given him the spiel just the other day, after she’d noticed the way the two of you had been bickering and giggling together. He’s sure he knows what it looks like. 

The wretched part of it is they’re not completely unfounded. 

Kaeya is perhaps pushing his luck with you–like any cheat and braggart and trick would. 

But he knows, deep down, that he cannot be with you in any way. He knows you are too good, too sweet, too lovely for the likes of him. 

It doesn’t stop it from bothering him, though. 

But Venti laughs merrily, “not at all! I’m going to warn her to be gentle with you.” 

“With me?” 

“She’s going to eat you alive.” Venti promises with an impish grin. “You don’t stand a chance.” 

“I doubt that.” Kaeya responds but he can feel something trepidatious in the pit of his chest. His poor heart gives a strange pull. And he knows, in the way that he always does when he’s looking for information, that this is somehow true. 

It rings in his ears. 

“You’ll see,” Venti says merrily, “and when you realize it, you’ll think dammit! That stupid Archon was right!” Venti then casually pushes his empty glass towards Diluc, “another, please, bartender!” 

And as a man from a godless nation, Kaeya shivers. 

“Venti, I think you’ve had too much to drink.” Diluc shakes his head. 

Venti sighs dramatically, before swiping Kaeya’s glass. And for once, Kaeya doesn’t protest or squabble with him for the last bit of his wine. 

“Does she know what you are?” Kaeya asks, suddenly feeling very sober. 

Venti peaks up from the glass of wine, wiping his chin with the back of his hand, “not officially! I’ve never told her. But she just knows.” 

Kaeya hums, unamused. Unsatisfied with that answer. 

“How long have you known her?” Kaeya presses. 

“A few years. We’ve become very close in recent years. I haven’t had a best friend like her in a long time–” 

Kaeya suddenly turns his cold gaze to Diluc, “and what about you? Does she know?” 

Diluc goes very still. And he must be able to sense Kaeya’s sudden shift in mood, his sudden restlessness or–or sharpening. He’s agitated. He can feel it beneath his skin.

Diluc doesn’t dare play dumb. “No–she knows we fought, that’s all.” 

“You haven’t told her? Since she’s so easy to open up to–” 

“Kaeya.” 

“Well?” 

“No.” Diluc says again, harder this time, “she doesn’t know anything.” 

“Don’t get jealous,” Venti says and Kaeya doesn’t know how much more he can stomach for the night. His gaze, icy and hard, flicks back to Venti. And he continues, “she was the world’s first before she was ever yours.” 

“What are you–” Kaeya snaps, feeling suddenly protective of you, “she’s not mine. Or the world’s.” 

Venti shrugs lightly, “she’s always belonged to the wind. She’s always belonged to the world.” 

Kaeya fights the urge to snap back, gnash his teeth a little, but the Archon continues softly, as if Kaeya is no longer there at all;

“And truthfully, she’s all I hope for in the world.” He sighs a little, looking elsewhere, far away, decades away into the past or future, Kaeya can’t tell. And what it takes, to put that look on an Archon’s face, Kaeya will never know. But he does know he agrees with an Archon, for once, when he says wistfully;

“She’s the very best of us all, I think. And the world is very lucky to have her.”