#linked theater au fics
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Note to Self: You Are Allowed to Cry on the Floor
Linked Universe College Theater Fic
(2,060 words)
Summary:
In two weeks, Wind will be done with his first semester of college. In two weeks, Wind will finally be able to have a weekend for himself without rehearsals or studying. In two weeks, Wind will go home to see his best friend.
Wind thinks he will go insane before then.
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OR: Sometimes the best advice comes from 5 tech majors relaxing on the studio floor.
(Ao3)
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In two weeks, Wind will be done with his first semester of college. In two weeks, Wind will finally be able to have a weekend for himself without rehearsals or studying. In two weeks, Wind will go home to see his best friend.
Wind thinks he will go insane before then.
Christmas break could not come sooner. Actually, thinking about it now, time might be going slow out of spite. It knows he’s at his wit’s end and wants to see how far it can push him.
How fucking rude.
Every day feels like a new hill to climb. Time was out sick for a week, which meant nothing tech-wise was done because apparently, he holds all their common sense. Now that tech was working double time, Wind had fallen behind on learning his lines for the upcoming show, meaning he was staying up every night memorizing and because he was staying up every night, his grades were slipping.
In conclusion, he’d rather fight monsters in some fantasy world than be dual majoring theater right now; but that is impossible, so he might as well suck it up.
No one else seemed to have this problem. They all knew exactly what they were doing. Legend could memorize two shows at once, Warriors balanced school with a job, and Hyrule kept track of every show with no issues.
It wasn’t fair.
Wind felt moments away from drowning. Maybe that’s why they treated him like a kid. They knew he was just floundering around like a fish out of water.
He walked on autopilot, making his way to the studio theater. The tech meeting had started five minutes ago, and he wasn’t looking forward to being chewed out by Twilight. Wind was too proud to admit it, but the older man scared him. Not his personality, no. He was, as Malon put it, sweet as pie. But he looked as though he could snap someone in half if they were to get on his bad side.
Wind was standing in front of the door all too soon. He had to remind himself to take a deep breath. They aren’t a pack of wolves; they weren’t going to tear him apart limb for limb because he was late…well they might make him clean the prop loft, which would be equally bad.
Slowly, and with great bravery because Wind was so cool, he opened the door. What he did not expect to see was Twilight, Wild, two of the quadruplets, and Hyrule lying on the floor, staring up at LED lights as they softly shifted through the colors of the rainbow. Yet that’s what greeted him.
Was this the sign of a mental break? Were they hallucinating? Did only eating microwave noodles finally take its toll on them? Warriors always said it would, but he never believed him.
Twilight waved him over. He didn’t seem mad, which was a good sign.
“What’s going on? Is this some theater cult thing?” Wind was pretty sure it was.
From the middle of the group, Hyrule spoke up, “We’re de-stressing.”
Ah, that made more sense.
“Lay down.” Twilight patted the space next to him.
Wind would never pass up a lazy day, so he walked over and lowered himself to the floor. Laying back, his hands rested on his stomach as he watched the shifting colors above him. They moved slowly, going from one side of the theater to the other. It was nice. The other’s soft breathing was the only sound in the room.
His mind wandered again. He didn’t have time to relax. He still had to finish learning lines and catch up on work, and the set was only half finished. A tight feeling formed in his chest. Maybe he wasn’t good enough to be lying here with people who have it all together? The bright colors seemed to mock him now. How dare they be so happy and warm when he felt like his spark was slowly dying.
Before he could stop himself, he interrupted the calm atmosphere.
“Does it always feel like this?”
Wild let out a small laugh. “The ground? Well yeah, it’s solid concrete.” He knocked next to him for emphasis.
“No.” Wind took a shaky breath. “This overwhelming. Does college always feel like it’s one step ahead of you? Like no matter what, you’ll never be as good as everyone else.”
The room felt suffocatingly quiet.
Gilt curled in his gut. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” His voice gave a pathetic crack.
He just had to open his big mouth, huh? Everyone was trying to de-stress, and here Wind was putting his problems out in the open. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes. Was he really about to cry like a baby in front of the others?
Twilight turned over. He could feel the older boy’s eyes burning into the side of his head.
“Are you ok?”
There it was. The straw that broke the camel’s back. Wind’s breathing stuttered as the tears flowed. “I’m trying my best. I promise.” Fuck being strong. All he wanted to do was cry until he fell asleep. So much was bottled up in only a few weeks that he felt like he was overflowing.
Someone grabbed his hand, rubbing small circles into his knuckles. “Take a breath, kiddo.” It was Hyrule. He recognized that strange accent anywhere.
Through his wet lashes and blurring colors, he could make out Wild walking over to sit next to him. “Do you want us to get Wars?”
Wind shook his head, probably a little too fast. Absolutely, in no world whatsoever, would he want his brother to see him crying on the theater floor. He would rather drink straight salt water, thank you very much.
“Alright, alright, we won’t get him, but do you want to talk about it?”
Did he? Would they think he’s weak? If he told them, would they see him as some irresponsible teen who shouldn’t be there? They would never trust him with anything important, but on the other hand, what if they could help? They might know the secret to surviving college.
Wind decided to trust them. “I just-I’m so tired.” He glanced at everyone. Hyrule was beside him, holding his hand with Twilight slightly behind him, while Wild was on the other side. The other two hung back. They had never been the best at comforting people. “You all seem to have it together, and I have no clue what I’m doing. I feel like every time I make progress on schoolwork something happens and I’m even more behind than I was. How do you do it? How are you able to do so much?”
Unsurprisingly, it was Twilight who spoke first, “Well, for one, we absolutely don’t have it together. We’re a theater department. We just know how to fake it till we make it.”
Hyrule nodded. “I know it’s rough right now, but eventually you will fall into a rhythm, and it will be second nature, kinda like high school. At first, you have no clue what’s going on, but after a year, you become a pro.”
He’s got a point. High school felt huge, and there were so many expectations. Freshman year was spent trying to figure out who you are, and more importantly, how to navigate the halls. The following years, although still challenging, slowly became easier.
“Yeah,” That was one of the quadruplets, Wind could never tell them apart. “The first semester of college is rough. Everything is new and confusing. Hell, I almost failed all my classes, so you’re not alone.” Scratch that, this was totally Vio. Blue would eat rocks before failing a class.
“You’ve gone your whole semester without almost dying. That’s already better than I did.”
He couldn’t help the watery chuckle that escaped at the others’ incredulous looks towards Wild.
Blue pat the younger boy’s shoulder, “Moving on. Give yourself some credit, dual majoring isn’t easy. It’s almost twice the classes. I’m surprised you weren’t burned out sooner.”
Wind shrugged. “What can I say? I’m just built different.”
“When was the last time you took some time for yourself?”
Uh oh, now Twilight was starting to sound like his parents. Time and Malon were very insistent that their students put their health before classes.
“Um, it’s been a busy few weeks.” Twilight opened his mouth, but Wind cut him off. “I know it’s not healthy, but I need to be in good standing with my teachers. I’m not going to be that actor or technician who never shows up and I’m sure as hell not going to get into the habit of skipping classes."
“There is a difference between not showing up because you’re lazy, and not showing up because you need to help yourself.” Hyrule gave him a stern look. “If you need a break, take one before your body makes you. Remember when Legend did two shows at the same time? He ended up getting sick right after closing night because he hadn’t been taking care of himself.” Why did Wind have to get stuck in a room with the mother hens of the group, even if they were completely right?
Twilight must have a third eye for people who don’t want to take a break because he just smiled. “You know what? This has been a productive meeting, and we all have been working hard lately. I’m going to let us head home early.”
Laying back, Wild put his hands behind his head. “Sounds good to me!”
“Guys please.” Now Wind was getting annoyed. They were treating him like a kid again. This is exactly what he was scared of happening. “I’m not stupid. The set needs to be finished and we’re already behind. We can’t all leave because I’m a little tired.”
“It’s not just about you, I know most of us haven’t gotten more than 5 hours of sleep in the past week. We’ll just come in during the weekend and do some work. I bet we can even get Time to fire up the grill and make hotdogs. It can be a theater major workday.” Curse Twilight for making coming to the college on an off-day sound fun.
“Um, won’t that defeat the entire purpose of rest?” Never mind, Blue just had to ruin the idea with his common sense.
“Maybe, but at least we can get some good sleep today, and then everyone will help over the weekend instead of just the techs.” Vio is the best quadruplet hands down, for the moment at least. That opinion is subject to change whenever convenient.
The others continued planning while Wind looked back up. The lights never stopped their colorful display. He was tired and stressed, but somehow felt more relieved than he had in months. No one judged him. Instead, they wanted to help. Who knew all he had to do was ask? Not all the worry was gone, and they were definitely going to be more watchful for the next few months, but at least he wasn’t alone. If his friends could figure college out, then he could too. Maybe his spark would even burn a little brighter.
Twilight pulled him from his thoughts. “Do you need a ride home?”
“Nah. War’s class should be ending soon and he can take me.” At least he thinks so. He had no clue how long he was lying on the floor having a pity party.
“Alright. Do you want to keep lying here until then?” Hyrule had a small smile, like he already knew the answer to the question.
“Yeah. That would be nice.”
Together, the tech majors laid back, lost in their own worlds as colors danced around the dark room. They were all exhausted and a mess, but at least no one was alone in feeling that way. It was just a theater kid thing.
-
It didn’t take longer than half an hour for Warriors to show up and the brothers to load into the car. Wind almost fell asleep against the window as they drove.
Damn everyone for being right that he needed sleep or something like that.
Neither talked for a long while until Wars glanced over and cleared his throat. “So, the boys tell me you’ve been stressed lately.”
Those fucking snitches.
#linked theater au#linked theater au fics#plants fics#linked universe#lu wind#lu twilight#lu wild#lu hyrule#lu blue#lu vio
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'they say there is another, with whom the Conquering King shares his crown' || yjh/kdj absolute throne au
{ with fic here; original post here }
#co-rulers? yes sure#king and consort?? oh yeah#i have a fanmix incoming later in the evening once i fully put the post for the song list together#yoo joonghyuk#kim dokja#joongdok#orv#omniscient reader's viewpoint#absolute throne au#my art#when i figure out how to rotate text!! it will be better#but yea if someone wants to use this concept to write a beautiful 10k whatever fic i have no objections a link back to the original post#would be greatly appreciated!! hehe#ok so technique wise yes there are points to improve but conceptually#i think this got to my mind theater vision it is satisfied :))))#my stuff
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New Chapter Out!
After a botched suicide attempt, Rey is saved by her boss, Maz, who presents her with an opportunity for a fresh start on the condition that she attends therapy. Through therapy, she discovers the healing power of acting as a form of self-expression and coping mechanism for her past traumas. In pursuit of this newfound passion, she enrolls in a class taught by the esteemed Broadway actor, Professor Benjamin Solo. 🎭
#ao3 fanfic#ao3 link#ao3 writer#reylo#reylo au#fan fic writing#fanfiction#fanfiction author#fanfic#ao3 author#ao3fic#writblr#theater#theatre#angst with a happy ending#romance#long reads#trauma#new beginnings
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#AO3 Link#FanFiction#AO3 Adrienette#❤️#💖#💚#Adrienette#DJWifi#♥#A:Lulabi 0#Reveal Fic#Online AU#Theater AU#Fluff
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so about those theater au redesigns....
#theater au#guess who's actually putting effort into this fic idea now#making this post non-reblogable bc I don't want just the headshots spread around#BUT i replaced the old art in the linked post with this art#so if you like the designs consider reblogging that post instead 🙏
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hi i love your fics and I was wondering if you had any byler fic recs
thanks
hello there! in all honesty, i have not had the time to read a lot of byler fic as of late, but it’s been a while since i posted some recs so i’ll drop a few that i’ve enjoyed recently! as always, i do endorse every fic in my bookmarks to the highest possible degree, so always feel free to look through those for new reading as well <3
say it with your hands by pseudologia (@hellfiremike) — will is a new employee at the movie theater mike works at, and mike starts thirsting over will’s hands to a degree that’s downright detrimental to his employment status
GOD. this fic. i gushed in their dms immediately after finishing it because this might be my favorite modern will characterization of all time, and this is coming from someone who has a million and one takes on modern era will byers. this fic just checked all of my boxes — from the summertime romance to mike’s painfully in-character teenage angsting to will being a frequenter of star wars reddit threads and an enjoyer of sufjan stevens. and the TENSION. oh god the tension. i’ve read all their fics probably three times over each, and i also highly recommend like i am home again, a college au set during a halloween party which made me stare at my phone refreshing ao3 hourly until it updated, and can this be a real thing (can it?) wherein mike and will reunite in a gay bar. enough said
landslide by chamb3rs — the party’s senior year of high school
i don’t often reach for chaptered fics since i usually have such limited reading time, but i’m sooo so so happy i stumbled across this one. there have just been very few fics that have touched me like this one did. i blew through this in one sitting a few weekends ago and subsequently experienced the full range of human emotions (and then some) all in the span of a few hours. everything about this was perfect — the will pov, the weird liminality of transitional periods, the party and byhop family dynamics, down to my favorite portrayal of theeeee jennifer hayes in any fic ever. on top of all of that, this fic perfectly captures the heartbreaking euphoria of being in love with your best friend, and all the ups and downs that come with it. i crawled out of the ao3 tab covered in blood and my chest was hurting and i was shaking and i had damn near chewed my own arm off — and then i sent the link to my friend 10 minutes later and watched her experience the same exact thing like a train wreck in slow-mo HAHAHA
what a time to be alive by passerine_in_jade (@newlesbianprideflag) — will disappears and haunts mike from the upside down
i’m forever a total sucker for a good haunting metaphor, so it’s absolutely not a surprise that this fic is appearing on this list. the premise for this was so so so cool and interesting, and it’s another chaptered fic i’m glad i had a little extra time to read. the way the author had me rooting for mike and will the whole time even though half of the pairing was offscreen for a large majority of the fic is a highly commendable feat. mike’s unyielding loyalty to will and will’s constant faith in him felt so true to their canon selves, and there were so many moments that were so quiet and intimate and tender that i really felt like i was intruding on something. good good stuff
that’s what you get for falling in love by harriet_vane — will gets his first boyfriend in college, and mike, ever the ally, has very normal feelings about it
i want to preface this by saying that this fic is rated m, mostly just for mentions/allusions to sex, and one largely non-explicit portion of a scene in the last chapter. if that’s not your cup of tea, it’s easy to tell when it’s coming up and to skip past it without detracting from the plot, but i think it would be a greater detriment to not rec this fic at all, because it has quickly made the list of my favorite byler fics of all time. something about this take on jealous mike especially resonated with me — his inner monologue is simultaneously hilarious and depressing, and his obliviousness regarding his feelings for will feels so true to life without being overdone or cartoonish. you can tell just how much they really care for each other, and the conflict in this actually made me start crying because it felt so visceral and so fundamentally them. you can tell this author really understands their characters, and the love put into this fic is soooo palpable. it’s the kind of fic where you want to bonk their heads together to knock some sense into them, but you are helpless to do anything but hold on as you’re swung along for the ride.
finally, i try not to just rec fics written by my friends, but my recent reading list would be incomplete without these two wonderful additions:
the way you love me by strangeswift (@strangeswift) — byler exes (absolutely heartwrenching edition)
i’ve been hearing abby talk about her ideas for this fic for the better part of a year as she worked on it, and she actually edited and posted the first two chapters while i was visiting her! and by god is this world a better place with her byler exes concept in it, because if you want angst, you’ll never have to look further than her ao3 page. something about the way she writes will in this fic just makes my heart shrivel up and die in my chest — his quiet resignation, the bitterness (always love a good bitter will byers moment) and the Longing that never quite went away. mike’s characterization is also top notch, and you can really feel the chemistry between them during every interaction. at the time of me posting this list, chapter 4 is not yet up, but trust me when i tell you guys it’s going to soooooo be worth it. :-)
the end is here by bookinit (@bookinit02) — a speculative byler-centric season 5
if you’ve been following my blog for any amount of time, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that haven’s canon rewrite series is hands-down my favorite series across any pairing and fandom. her creativity with her season 5 concepts never fails to astound me — from the scripts she’s been working on as an alternative to the episodes she rewrote for s1-4, to her ideas for possible plot lines, and just incredible writing all around. i’ve had the privilege of reading through her scripts before she posts them to her blog (definitely go check them out) but special privilege bias aside, it takes soooo much skill to create such a visually powerful story in a medium that allows for such little narration, and the corresponding chapters just totally pushes it over the edge. pre-s5 required reading for every byler, and 100000% my new canon if the show doesn’t pan out
this definitely is not an exhaustive list because i have a million and one fics on my to-read, and one day i will get around to reading them all, but i hope there is something on this list that strikes your fancy!!
#mutuals specifically there are so many fics i need to catch up on im sorry#once i’m done w school im coming for you all truly#anyways i hope there are some here you guys like! sorry it’s not the longest list and sorry i babbled#actually no i’m not#i have a lot of feelings abt fics i like.#these r all fics that likeeeeee. make me want to Write#which is the highest compliment i can personally bestow#byler#byler fic rec#suni reads
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masterlist
TAG: Toxicanonymity ☠️. She/her. FAQ
ASKS: I don't really do traditional requests these days because I'm busy with WIPs, but feel free to come in my ask box with thots, questions, etc.
WARNINGS: Everything is NSFW 18+ w/ F!Reader unless otherwise noted. May have violence, dubious consent (dubcon), non-consensual (noncon), unsafe sex, and more. See additional warnings in individual fics.
!! Some of the older Halloween HCs have broken links, and idk why. If it's bold, it means I checked and fixed it. I'll make my way through all of them eventually.
Pedro Pascal characters masterlist
Boyd Holbrook characters masterlist
Scream
Masked ghostface unless otherwise specified.
⭐ Every inch | Every inch 2 | Every inch 3
fight flight or fuck blurb
Rat in a cage oneshot drabble
⭐ Prescott House Bed & Breakfast (Billy Loomis)
Waking up cold blurb
Road house - scream AU (Dalton x reader)
Texas Chainsaw
⭐ The Spread (3.5k) Tommy Hewitt x reader. "Heavy" on size kink 🤭
House of Wax
✨The Wax Job (1.3k) - Bo Sinclair x reader
Halloween
Corey Cunningham Stories (CC)
A lift and two screws (4.5k words) - 2️⃣ 🥩
Laid back (2.5k) - 👤 💐reach-around HJ.
Laid back: V-Day Vibes (3.2k) 👤💐 🥩 🧎♂️ toy
Corey from the yard (3.8k) - 2️⃣💐🥩
Corey from the Yard pt. 2 (5k) - 2️⃣ 🥩⚰️
It's Halloween (babysitting w/ CC) (3.5k) ⭐ 🎃
Yet another rattle - FFM (2.7k) - ft. Allyson
Corey C. from the call center (4.5k) - 💐
Dominating Corey in a declining mall (2.5k) - 🧎♂️
Tighty-whitey workout, interrupted (2k) 🥩
You wear MM's mask in bed (1.3k)
Giving head while CC streams (900)👤
⭐Good behavior (7.5k) work detail 4️⃣
⭐Birthday Wish (2k) dominant bf
⭐Give In (4.5k) 2️⃣
Hot Topic
Scrapyard (CNC) 500
Rock Bottom (22k) 🥩 ⚰️ . Corey, Michael, Y/N. (Other stories don't use Y/N).
Michael Myers Stories
Corey leaves you with Michael (300)
⭐Michael makes them watch (1.3k)
Michael in Ambrose (2k) non con
The summoning (1.2k) ⚰️
⭐Skin Alley (1.5k) MM POV
Michael's Castle (3k)2️⃣ vampire!michael
Gravel Lot (1.1k) - Anniversary 💐
Gas station (550)
Knows you're horny (650 cnc)
Breeder Michael blurb
Reader w/ oral fixation blurb
Bathroom (M!reader)
Michael makes Corey watch
Obsessive Reader GN
Halloween Headcanons
Free Use (1.2k) 👤 🧎♂️
The Shape's Collar (900) 👤
Coming💦 (1.1k) 👤 MM, CC
When you're a screamer (650) 👤 MM, CC
Why it's hot when Michael drives 👤
overstimulating a squirter MM, CC
more Corey squirting HCs
Corey coming in his pants
Corey porn habits
Corey catches your self-pleasure
Corey period oral
Halloween drabbles, blurbs, misc.
Who's that calling you under the dinner table (Misc) txts CC
Frisky at the movie theater w/ CC (300)
COREGASM (600?) 👤
CC sounding like Leon in DBD👤
Corey's newest ring
Corey x You x Michael
reader nipple piercings & 2 CC
Corey nipple piercings
Michael x Obsessive! Reader 👤
MM dream / CC 📞sex & CNC
Corey x you x Michael u walk in
Michael & thighs
Michael Makes Corey Watch
Halloween non-Smut
Michael & Corey MBTI types (non-explicit)
1st date, Corey wants to leave with you 💐
Amusement park date 💐
Corey's new ring (100 word drabble)
Corey teaches you to drive (300 words)
Michael/Corey poll results
_____________________
Other Fandoms
The Bear
The ghost - Mike x reader x Carmy
Triple Frontier
The Worst - Tom "Redfly" Davis x DARK!reader
Road House
Scream AU - Elwood Dalton x reader
________________________
New: ✨
Multiple smut scenes: 2️⃣,3️⃣ etc
Fluffy: 💐
Submissive: 🧎♂️
Gender Neutral or Male Reader: 👤
Gratuitous beef: 🥩
Kill(s): ⚰️
#masterlist#master list#corey cunningham x reader#michael myers x reader#ghostface x reader#thomas hewitt x reader#bo sinclair x reader#slashers#billy loomis x reader
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Josh Futturman (Future Man, 2017, TV Show) - Headcanons
Description: [18+ MDNI] AU where the reader experiences the show's events with Tiger, Wolf, and Josh. This takes place at the end/after the show where you and Josh live together as a couple. / Josh Futturman x GN!Reader
General Notes: Established Relationship, Reader Show Insert, Slight Spoilers For The Ending Of Future Man, Gender Neutral Reader, Romantic Headcanons, Sexual Headcanons Mixed In, No Use Of Y/N, Slight Cursing
Author's Note: Needed to do some headcanons to fill the JHutch void on Tumblr right now, and to get myself back into writing actual fics lol. Also, I can't believe this is only the second thing I've done for my baby boy, Futturman. I love him so much. Hope y'all enjoy! <3
Word Count/Bullet Point Count: 523 Words/30 Bullet Points
You and Josh road trip from Iowa back to California soon after stopping the existence of time travel
You find yourselves doing odd jobs to keep yourself afloat, Josh often doing cleaning jobs
Y'all find a dingy little apartment on the outskirts of L.A.
Despite the smallness of the shitty apartment, you and Josh declared that you didn't need that much anyway, as long as you had each other
Josh definitely gets back into gaming once you come to terms with being stuck in the 2000s
He particularly enjoys Street Fighter EX3 and Tekken Tag Tournament on the PS2 (until Kingdom Hearts and Final Fantasy 10 come out in the next few years)
You also acquire a Gamecube system once it comes out the next year
You liked playing Pikmin and Mario Kart: Double Dash together (you always played as Luigi to spite him)
You both also try to get into taking care of small plants
There's a lot of dead plants on your kitchen windowsill
Though, Josh has the first flower you ever grew together pressed and hung in your bedroom
After everything that happened, Josh is pretty clingy
When you wake up in the morning, Josh does not leave your side
Whether you're making breakfast, coffee, or just trying to get ready, Josh is practically attached to your hip
He gets especially clingy at night when you two make dinner together and watch a movie y'all rented from Blockbuster
He likes to cuddle A LOT, which can often lead to some more intimate activities
After the events at Haven, Josh was a little nervous about sparking any private moments between you two
But, after the first time together, he quickly got over it
He was worried he would hurt you at first too, but the things you went through in the past few "however-much-time-has-passed", you showed that you can take a little pain
He loves how good you take him, as if you two were made for each other
Unless Josh gets pissed for some reason, he is a definite sub
His favorite position is having you on top in any way, shape, or form
Josh is a sucker for pleasuring his partner, first and foremost, to where he can nearly get himself off just thinking about it
Besides being sexually intimate, you both just love physical contact in general
Josh loves taking you out on little dates, taking you to his favorite places in L.A. (sometimes forgetting what year it is and finding out that place doesn't exist yet)
Josh especially loves taking you to Little Tokyo and the Arts District
Josh also loves when music he enjoys is released and he can finally listen to it again (instead of humming it to himself in the shower)
Same goes for films, he really enjoys being able to go to the theaters to experience it for the "first time" with other people. especially the Marvel movies later on
When Josh observed his parents for the first time, he cried
The last time Josh visited his parents, you took him away with the promise of a picnic in the park before his dad could say anything to him
Masterlist Link
Divider: saradika and saradika-graphics on tumblr
Gif: marlosrph on tumblr
#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson x reader#josh futturman#josh futturman x reader#josh futturman x gn!reader#josh futturman headcanons#headcanons#josh futturman smut#josh futturman future man#future man#future man 2017#smut#reader insert#x reader#katykat235#g0ry0re0
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CM Meet Cute (or not) Challenge 📚☕️
The following are prompts including a Meet Cute/Ugly scenario (any first-time-meeting)! Reader or OC, Gen/Platonic, AND Character/Character fics are allowed!
This event is over (Masterlist of Fics here), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!
☕️ Generic Prompts 📚
Character gets locked out and their neighbor picks the lock for them.
Characters get the same coffee order. They both reach for it at the same time.
Characters get paired up at the work event icebreaker.
Characters both duck for cover under the same tiny storefront when it starts pouring.
Character is knocked into a stranger’s lap on the bus.
Characters are both stood up at the same date spot.
Character sits next to a stranger in the theater, but the two end up bonding when there’s a technical glitch.
On Character’s first day at the new job, they get stuck on the elevator with their new coworker.
Character breaks their heel/slips on the way into their new job. Their new coworker manages to catch them.
Character accidentally dumps their coffee on someone in a very dramatic fashion.
Character accidentally causes someone to slip and fall. They try to help them up, but they both fall down.
Characters are sat together on a long train ride.
Characters are on rival teams at a work event.
Characters reach for the same book at the library.
Character sits next to someone at an academic conference. They get way too excited about a topic that’s taboo/uncouth to normal people.
Character accidentally messages the wrong number. A stranger answers.
Character offers unsolicited fashion advice to a stranger in the dressing room.
Characters wear matching masks at a masquerade party.
It isn’t a meet cute at all. They know each other already but they don’t notice for an embarrassingly long time.
Character realized they left a piece of clothing in the laundromat but when they return, someone’s already started a load. The pair wait for it to finish together.
Character accidentally bumps into someone’s car in a parking lot. They are very upset… until they realize how cute the other one is.
Anything else you can think of!
🍄 Autumn Prompts 🍁
Character gets lost in a corn maze… meant for children. They begrudgingly ask a total stranger, for help.
Character fight over a perfect pumpkin at the patch and explain why each of them needs it.
Characters show up in an accidental couples’ costume.
Character tries to scare their friend, but ends up spooking a complete stranger.
Character steps on a stranger’s shoe… and realizes they are dressed like Cinderella.
Character accidentally gets hurt in a spooky attraction and a scare actor breaks character to help.
Character gets scared in a haunted tour and jumps in the arms of someone they think is their friend—but it’s not.
Character thinks someone is in a costume and tries to guess what it is. They’re not in a costume.
🫣 Dialogue Prompts 😅
“Hey, sorry, can I give you my number?” “What?” “Oh, not like that—I lost my phone.”
“My kid thinks you’re a real princess. Would you mind taking a photo with them?”
“I think we accidentally swapped orders. By the way, what the hell is in this?”
“Hey, would you mind talking to me so this creep will leave me alone?”
“Is it possible to actually die from embarrassment?”
“I definitely would have remembered meeting you.”
“Watch where you’re going!” “… You ran into me?!”
“That diamond is fake.” “So is the engagement.”
“You aren’t some crazy serial killer, right?”
“Do you believe in fate?”
“This is way too cliche.”
Rules 📚
The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs are more than welcome.
Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.
The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.
Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.
Have fun!
Happy Writing!
#spencer reid#aaron hotchner#tara lewis#emily prentiss#luke alvez#penelope garcia#david rossi#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid smut#criminal minds#cm writing challenge#writing challenge
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LOVE FOOL - CHOI SEUNGCHEOL
word count: 0.6k…
pairing: seungcheol x gn!reader
synopsis: you and your boyfriend are out and about being affectionate and just obnoxiously cute!
genre/s: fluff, non-idol!au, bf!seungcheol, established relationship, domestic
warnings: none!
rating: pg
a/n: title is taken from the song love fool by exo! the fic is largely based on this pic hehe <3 first seungcheol fic so hope yall enjoy it!
“Doesn’t that sculpture look like a bunch of grapes?” Seungcheol asks you, pointing to the abstract sculpture in the near distance.
“It does!” You agree excitedly at his discovery, to which your boyfriend lights up.
He lets his eyes wander on the sculpture for a while more before continuing to walk. The two of you were out for another one of your sweet dates, walking around the city after watching a movie at the theaters.
Still standing in front of the sculpture, you call out to him, “Let me take some pics of you in front of it.”
He turns back, seeing you motion him over with your hands. “In front of this?”
“Yeah! It has its own artistic aesthetic, no? Perfect for Instagram.” You explain whilst enthusiastically pulling your phone out in preparation. There were several passersby, but you continued to be unaffected by their stares, solely focused on your boyfriend.
Seungcheol sees how much you want to take his pictures and lightly jogs back over to you. He’s used to your antics, well aware of how much you enjoyed taking pictures to remember the events of the day.
“There it is, Cheol! Your perfect smile.”
He notices that you’re grinning from ear to ear. Seungcheol always thought your smile was infectious, but today proved it once again. Unable to contain his own joy, his smile only grows wider at your happiness. He poses with great focus, starting to care less and less about the people around you.
“Now silly poses!” You direct him, acting playful behind your phone’s camera. He covers his mouth slightly with his hand, trying his best to stifle his laughter.
An elderly couple approaches you, undetected by you since you were determined to take the best photos of Seungcheol. Seungcheol’s smile falters slightly at the strangers walking to you, stopping his poses.
“Young love,” the elderly man starts, “this is the best time. Let us take pictures of the two of you together! You resemble my partner and I when we first started dating.”
You finally look away from Seungcheol, diverting your attention to the source of the words just spoken. An elderly man stood behind you, waiting for your reply to his offer with a small smile and a hint of nostalgia behind it. The couple were still linking arms, clearly in love with each other. Your gaze drifted to their hands, noticed the wrinkled state of them, but both were wearing well-kept rings around their ring fingers.
“Aw, we would love that!” You answer warmly, carefully passing your phone to him.
Having not been able to hear your conversation, Seungcheol is frozen in front of the sculpture. You head in his direction, an action that only confuses him more. The puzzlement on his face makes you smirk, before filling him in. Seungcheol nods, moving over so that both of you are centered in the photo.
He glances over to you beside him, still beaming with a peace sign placed near your face. On the count of three, Seungcheol turns and places a quick peck on your cheek. He loved giving you wet kisses, so he ended the kiss with a loud smooch. Your head whips in his direction, putting your hand up to your face to feel the wetness he left.
Faking disgust, you rub his spit off your face. “Gross!”
“What can I say? You make me a fool, Y/N.” Seungcheol shrugs, looking back towards your phone.
Without missing a beat, you reply to him. “A fool? Then, call me a love fool since I’m completely in love with you.”
You look at each other adoringly, happy to have met.
“Say cheese!” The elderly man’s spouse instructs, making you both tense up, realizing how distracted you were.
Seungcheol mumbles through his smile, “That makes two love fools.”
#kpopccc#klabels#kflixnet#caratwritersclub#kwritersworldnet#k-vanity#seventeen#svt#scoups#seungcheol#scoups fluff#seungcheol fluff#svt fluff#seventeen x reader#choi seungcheol#scoups oneshot#seungcheol oneshot#scoups drabble#seungcheol drabble#kmgkmgoriginal
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(Little disclaimer: I think i’ve seen this somewhere before but can’t remember 100%, so if you have seen this idea being used anywhere send me the link to the post/fic/whatever , please!!)
okay guys hear me out. mortal/highschool au, theater tech kid!leo valdez x theater kid!reader………. would it be cute ??? or like , a good one shot/head cannons idea ???
#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo#fanfic#franciswasteland#heroes of olympus x reader#heros of olympus#fanfiction#pjo fandom#pjo hoo toa#leo valdez#leo valdez x reader#leo valdez x y/n#leo valdez x you#pjo au#hoo au#highschool au#mortal au
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A prompt for your theatre AU: shenanigans in costume storage.
I might have gone a little overboard with the "few sentences" and wrote 1,259 words...oopsies...
ANYWAY!
Here is what happens when 8 theater boys are left unattended in costume storage.
Ao3
--
The theater was quiet, too quiet for Time’s liking. An annoying mix of the air conditioner and his keyboard had been the only sounds for the past half an hour.
Usually, there was always some sort of commotion in the building, whether it be power tools, footsteps running to and from class, or people making weird accents for a laugh. It was never silent, especially with his current students.
The last time it was this quiet, he found the tech boys trying to turn the booth into a bedroom, and the time before that was because they broke a set wall and were trying to fix it without him knowing. So, to say that he was more than a little worried was an understatement.
At least he didn’t seem to be alone. Malon must have also felt that something was off because less than a minute later, she was knocking on his office door. Her red hair peaked in as she asked exactly what he knew she would. “Dear, have you seen the boys?”
He leaned back from his computer and shook his head, “Not since I sent them all to the costume closet to grab some old clothes we can tear up for the show.” Thinking back on it, that had been almost thirty minutes ago. What had they gotten themselves into this time?
His wife froze. “Link.” She stared at him as though he just told her their house had just burned down. “Tell me you did not send actors into the costume closet.”
Uh oh, she used his first name. Time was in trouble. He wilted under her gaze, suddenly very interested in the fake plant on his desk. “What’s the issue with that?”
She threw her hands in the air, pacing in and out of the room as she fumbled over her words, “What-what’s the issue with that?! Actors cannot be trusted in the costume closet! I-you know what, follow me.”
Before Time could even come up with a response, she grabbed his arm and marched towards the back of the theater.
She was probably being dramatic, yeah. I mean, how badly could the boys have messed it up? They are all responsible college kids. If they can be trusted to live without parental supervision, then they can be trusted not to destroy the costume department.
—
Time takes everything back. This was the most irresponsible group of people he had ever met. How they all have lived this long was a miracle.
Before him laid the remnants of hours of organizing. Clothes had been pulled from their racks and scattered across the floor, while accessories were hanging from every surface imaginable. In the middle of it stood the culprits…all dressed ridiculously.
“I could fight God in this!” Warriors called, wearing a blinding amount of knight armor. The helmet was too big and fell over his eyes, causing him to bump into everything and everyone within a five-foot radius.
A blur of blue jumped out from a pile of boxes in front of him. “Argh! Fight me then, matey!” Wind yelled while swinging a foam sword wildly. He committed to the pirate bit by dawning an eyepatch and a red bandana. “Or are ye too scared of my might!?”
Warriors stumbled back, knocking Hyrule, who had fairy wings hanging off one shoulder, to the ground. He rubbed his face in annoyance. “Guys, we are going to be in so much trouble if we don’t clean soon.”
Legend helped him up, struggling slightly because of the obnoxiously large ballgown he decided to wear. “Oh, lighten up ‘Rule, they won’t even- HEY! Don’t step on my damn dress, bitch!” He yanked the fabric out from under Twilight’s foot.
“Sorry, sorry, but I agree with Hyrule. My parents are going to be pissed if they see this. Especially Malon. She spent forever putting this room together.” Although he spoke for tidying up, Twi did not hesitate to take the cowboy hat handed to him by Wind and continue to search for a sheriff’s star in the mess.
The sound of clothes falling interrupted whatever response was coming. “Hey, Lege’!” A pink wig sat on Wild’s head as he stumbled out of the rack with a shit-eating grin covering his half-scarred face. “We match now!”
Surprisingly quick in a dress, Legend lunged at him. “Take that off!” He yelled as they dissolved into a tangle of fabric on the floor.
Sky glanced up from where he sat messing with a bird puppet and looked around. Someone was missing. “Has anyone seen Four?”
The room fell quiet as they looked between each other.
“I just saw him by the suits!” Wind called, somehow sitting on top of a shelf and using a telescope to watch the chaos.
From across the closet, Warriors spoke up, “What? But I just saw him over here with the hats?”
Twilight shook his head. “No way! He was with us near the fantasy stuff.”
A voice from under a pile of clothes startled everyone. “All of you are wrong! I’m down here!” Four struggled a bit before pulling his face out of the mess. “One of you- Wild, dumped the cheer uniform box on me!”
Wild laughed without a hint of sympathy. “Oopsies!”
Seconds stretched into minutes as Time and Malon watched with equal parts horror and fascination at the scene in front of them. He put his arm around the other and pulled her close. “Should I be the one to ruin their fun, or would you like the honors?”
She smiled up at him with a glint in her eyes and gently patted his cheek. “Let them have their fun for now. Lord knows they need it with how long I am going to make them stay here to clean it up.”
He chuckled while planting a kiss on her head. “You’re evil, you know that?”
“Maybe a little,” she shrugged, leaning against him as she watched the boys wrestle for a crown. “But don’t get too comfortable, you’re helping too.”
Time froze, “What!? Why?”
“You let them in, so you’re helping.” The smile on his wife’s face told him he probably wasn’t getting out of this.
“In my defense, I didn’t know this would happen.”
“And in my defense, I don’t care.” Malon turned, standing in front of him with her hands on her hips. “Theater is a family remember, if one of us goes down, we all do. And if eight boys trash the costume closet, then we all have to help clean it.”
All Time could do was sigh and laugh through the future pain. “I hate that you’re right.”
“I know you do.” She smiled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
From inside the room, there was an eerie silence, followed by whispers. Looking over, it seemed the boys had finally noticed their arrival. No one said anything for a long moment.
Finally, Twilight spoke up. “Hey mom, dad.” He shifted nervously. “I promise this isn’t as bad as it looks.”
“Don’t lie, it’s worse!” Four yelled, still trapped under the cheer uniforms.
Wind jumped off of his perch and ran to a box sitting in the middle of the room. “We got the costumes you needed, Time!” He held it over his head with a proud smile.
The closet looked destroyed, his students looked like they were the stars of a kid’s birthday party, and his wife looked two seconds away from kicking everyone out of college.
Time could genuinely say he loved his job.
#Linked theater au#linked theater au fics#linked theater au asks#plants fics#linked universe#lu sky#lu time#lu wild#lu wind#lu twilight#lu four#lu hyrule#lu legend#lu malon#lu warriors#lu fic#lu chain
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Act I, Part I
|| kaeya alberich x afab!reader || E/18+ || hurt/comfort/fluff || wc: 13k || ao3 || masterlist || Act I, Part II -> ||
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: it is finally here!!! 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 but this act has been broken into two parts because tumblr hates long posts so i will link that shortly as well! 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 I
Our story begins first in the open night, beneath torchlight and on an ancient, well-loved stage in Springvale. And then our world should open up to the wilderness, to the Mondstadt streets, until we end up in Kaeya’s home; it’s as mysterious and stylish as he is. Everything could or couldn’t tell you everything about him, everything might or might not mean something to the Cavalry Captain.
The night sky shudders into shades of endless plum blue, kissed with silver-burnt stars and the gentle curve of a sweet moon.
Kaeya’s eye catches its brilliance, reflects it back like it was made from the very same moonbeam, the very same starshine.
You roar to life in the darkness.
Fire bursts from your mouth in a red-gold crush of heat, swinging in an arc around your head to illuminate you.
The audience cheers, hollering and clapping, murmuring excitedly at the way you leap from your pedestal above the stage into a crouch.
Your costume twinkles, shimmery and scale-like, jangling like mora in the pocket. It’s slinky, baring midriff and thigh, the curve of your bare feet, ankles and wrists adorned in jingling, scale-like jewelry. Your hair is wild, horns twisting out from your head.
It’s cute, Kaeya thinks, watching with an amused, little smile.
“The dragon careened from the sky and bore down on the knight!” Your narrator exclaims and with a flash of movement, you and the other actor clash in the darkness. Your fire lights up the stage only briefly, to catch another flash of movement, before plunging back into darkness. And then again, a burst of flames in another sharp picture;
The knight’s sword raised above his head to strike you down.
Darkness.
Before your fire explodes out in a plume to make the knight stagger back. The audience gasps.
You twist and turn and move serpentine, fluid like water, or the licks of your flames.
Kaeya hasn’t seen you perform in awhile, perhaps years, but it brings back memories of childhood.
The way you’d light up a room and perform whether it was to sing or dance or entertain.
As a child, you were bursting with it, with freedom and joy. He remembers nights in Ragnvindr manor, tucked away in smoky parlors with adults who cooed to you, who encouraged you to sing for them, to play the piano or violin. He remembers candlelight and the way it seemed to glow brighter for you as you opened your mouth and let all of that wonder out of you.
Your audience adores you here, too, out here in Springville, at this little outdoor theater which is perhaps just a couple half-hazard pieces of wood nailed together. Nonetheless, you make it feel like the rocky terrain of Dragonspine.
And by the end, your audience is hooting and hollering, on their feet, perhaps a little drunk, but adoring nonetheless.
Though it’s nice to see you perform, that isn’t exactly why he’s here tonight.
He sips at the mug of ale in front of him, leaning back in his chair.
He waits until you appear again in plain clothes, changed from your pretty costume, fresh faced.
And my, my are you popular. Everyone stops to talk to you, to snag you, to hug and hold you and laugh with you. He can tell, though, that you’re making your way to him as the night grows later and longer.
He waits.
Until you are in front of him once more, moon a halo above your head.
“Riveting performance.” He purrs.
“Captain Kaeya,” you say his name like it bursts sweet and sharp on your tongue.
He says your name in return, honeyed and slow, taking you in all your glory.
Then you say, “you came,” and your smile is an infectious little twist of lips.
“Of course I did.” He responds easily, looking up at where you’re standing in front of him, and then as if it was innate, only natural of him, “you asked me to.”
Your eyes flicker just behind him, catch someone in the darkness, before settling back on him.
Call it instinct, but he feels his hackles rise, hair on the back of his neck stand up. Kaeya knows danger well and can feel it now, the way you can smell a storm that is approaching.
You offer him your hand, palm up, and in the firelight of the torches around you, it shimmers in his vision, dancing with shadows.
He quirks a brow at you.
“Your place or mine?” He asks.
“You’re not even going to get me a drink first?” You ask, feigning scandal.
Kaeya feels the corner of his mouth tick up, “call me impatient.” He says, but he finally puts his hand in yours, envelopes it in his and realizes he has not taken your hand in many years. Perhaps not since you were children together. Your hands have grown, but so have his. Calluses rough up against your smooth, soft palm.
So untouched. So unscarred. Soft as–
“Yours.” You say decisively.
And you pull him up and into the fray of people, into the sweet night, turning away to guide him but with your hand still in his. He trails after you and if it looks suggestive, if there are some hollers and calls to you–
“The good captain, even?” A fellow actor of yours crows, ale sloshing in his mug, “is there no one in Mondstadt safe from your wiles?”
“Not a soul,” you vow with a laugh and the group roars with cheers, drinks spilling.
“Don’t tell me you two are leaving already!” Another says, “the night is still young!”
“All the more reason to leave now,” Kaeya sings and there is even more uproar, whistles and suggestive howls.
You seize his hand tighter and pull him closer, pick up your pace as if to show your eagerness, leaving all their laughs and hollering behind.
Your shadow persists, though, and Kaeya doubles his step to get closer, to sidle up next to your side. To guard your back.
“Been awhile,” Kaeya hums, “you must be desperate to have reached out to me.”
“Well, in all of Mondstadt, I could think of no one else I’d rather have.” You grin at him and the trouble is, you’re being honest. He can feel it, or perhaps he just wants to, that you would want his presence beyond this, beyond–
As you wander over trails and stones back to the city, hand always in his, he helps you along, or keeps after you like an eager dog. He lifts you off of a stone ridge you climbed, hands fitting along your waist like they belong there. He laughs when you dart away from him, chasing after you only to catch you around the middle, letting you yelp and twist in his hold, tossing your head back onto his shoulder to laugh up into the heavens.
It feels like he’s a child again, a teenager, stepping through time and into another. Nostalgia rips at him, tugs at the seams of him. He wonders if you feel it, too, but doubts it.
Not with the person loping not too far behind, keeping distance but not too much. Not enough.
The gates of Mondstadt are alight with torches.
You walk backwards to face him and for a moment, he really does almost lose his footing, because there is something so bewitching about you. He can’t stop looking, the curl of your smile, or the raise of your brow. It’s a natural sort of beauty, one born from within, he thinks, something in you that’s just so–
Wonderful.
And then you turn back over your shoulder and take off, pulling him after you. Nimbly, he is your shadow. Footsteps on cobblestone, clattering together, until you yank him into a dark little alcove. You press your back up against the stone curve, pulling him by the front of his uniform so that he crowds you, shrouds over you.
“Kaeya–” you say his name a little breathlessly and it echoes in Mondstadt stone streets, voice throwing so that someone could hear you. Will hear you.
He’s quick to catch on, ducking his head into the crook of your neck, though not close enough to touch.
Your follower has paused at the entrance of this alley. Kaeya can see the shadow in the torchlight.
You suddenly pinch his ear hard enough to make him yelp a little.
You laugh, but it’s warm and sultry, head falling back against the stone like you’ll give him more room.
“Right here?” He asks, but his gaze glances past you, at your follower.
You nod to his real question, but pitch your voice up in the charade, “please–”
The sound makes him flush a little.
And it makes your shadow scurry away when he realizes what you’re getting up to, clearly embarrassed, or in the least, shy about being a voyeur. Kaeya fights the urge to snort.
He does realize your hand is still curled in the front of his uniform. And the column of your throat is exposed, pretty, and open for the taking.
He focuses squarely ahead, listening closely to see where the footsteps have gone.
He only catches the grin on your face out of the corner of his eye, before you suddenly let out a louder, lewder moan.
He shushes you, almost reflexively, but he has to fight the urge suddenly to laugh. You do start to giggle this time and although it still sounds deeply intimate, he covers his hand over your mouth so you can laugh into his palm. So that you won’t blow your own ruse.
You keep this up until he finally takes your hand and pulls you away from the wall. You stumble with him, until he’s got you tucked up under his arm.
You’re still laughing a bit, clearly pleased with yourself, as he takes you a strange, meandering way to his own place. Your follower is gone, perhaps for the night off, assuming that you’ll be in Kaeya’s bed. He wonders if your shadow will find you again come morning or if he’ll scout out Kaeya’s own place for the night.
He leads you into his own apartment building, up the wooden stairs, and into his home. For an apartment, it’s rather spacious. Open. There’s a balcony off the bedroom, one that overlooks a great deal of Mondstadt’s streets. The bustling world below and the peaks of Mondstadt’s skyline above. It’s his favorite part.
Once the door is shut and the lock nestled into place, you finally drop the act.
His hand leaves yours, body leaves yours, for the first time that he’s seen you tonight and instantly, he can feel the rush of cold ease in.
“Make yourself at home,” he says, slinging off his own coat, setting his boots to the side.
He wanders in only to collapse on his sofa, eyeing you as you toe off your own shoes and carefully hang your own jacket beside his.
He forgets sometimes, what it's like, to have someone else here.
To have a coat beside his own, shoes kissing his.
“I take it you figured out my letter?” You ask, padding deeper into his home.
Kaeya smiles, “well, you can imagine my surprise when Jean handed it to me.”
“Jean saw that?” You ask, eyes rounding out in horror. “Does she think–does she know we’re not actually–?”
“Sleeping together? Romantically entangled?” Kaeya asks, standing suddenly to move to his office. You follow tentatively after him, only to watch him rifle through his desk and produce the very letter in question.
The envelope is covered in lipstick marks.
“You could’ve been a little more discreet.” He says, before inhaling a little sharply, “did you spray your perfume on this?”
“Do you like it?” You ask in return, “it’s new.”
He laughs, low and soft, “it’s nice. I think you traumatized Jean, though.”
“I wanted people to be too embarrassed to look inside the letter.” You retort, “clearly, I succeeded.”
“That you did.” He agrees, “and even if they did–”
An excited glow comes to your eyes, “did you figure it out?”
“Well, I knew it was some sort of code since the content of the letter was—fabricated, to say the least.”
“What? You don’t remember our clandestine trysts? I’m hurt—“
“You’re very clever.” Kaeya says then unabashedly and he thinks you melt a little at the praise. Or at least, you quiet down. “And it seems you’re in quite a bit of trouble.”
When you speak this time, it’s hushed, like you’re worried someone is listening now somehow.
“Can you help me? I had no idea who to turn to without tipping them off.”
“Well, if it’s one thing I’m good at, it’s dealing with secrets.” He muses, but then he gazes at your letter again, perhaps scouring the contents of it once more.
On the surface, it seems like a love letter, filled with winding, romantic phrases and memories of old; romps under star bright skies and hurried instances in the library. Nostalgic flashes of youth, when you danced the nights away with him. It details a sort of on and off again fling that neither of you can seem to quit.
But beyond that, there are ciphers, a code to uncover. And Kaeya pulls a slip of paper from another drawer of his desk, lays it out on the surface. Your true message reads very clearly in his messy scrawl;
Help. Fatui watching. Must be careful.
Kaeya gestures to the chair across from his large desk. You sink down into it with a nervous little breath.
“How long has this been going on?” He asks and perhaps the air changes, or the way his shoulders settle back. It’s the voice he uses as captain, twinged with authority and coolness.
“I noticed them following me about a month ago. Maybe longer, though.” You answer.
“Do you have any inclination as to why?” Kaeya asks now and he sets your letter aside.
You take your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment and Kaeya watches the movement, before you release it.
“It isn’t a secret that I’m not their biggest fan.” You finally answer. “I tend to toy with them if they get too close.”
Much like Diluc, you harbor a deep loathing for the Fatui.
You are a vocal and known defender of Mondstadt’s freedom from Fatui and their meddling hands. Notoriously, you’ve openly mocked them on stage and even worse, outwitted them in social entanglements. At every turn, when they tried to use your family’s name, coerce you financially, or corner you with social politics, you’ve managed to weasel by. They have tried endlessly to get you to bend to their whims, whatever they might be, and you have refused.
For the past few years, they have tried desperately to get someone as loved and known in Mondstadt in their pockets.
And for years, you’ve escaped them.
You’ve done much to outwit them. You’ve caused all out personal brawls between underlings, made a fool of yourself at one of the largest balls between nations, led them on wild goose chases that amounted to nothing, and even gone so far as to reveal salacious scandals to get your way.
Socially, in a battle of wits, you are a wicked opponent.
But physically? You are a sitting duck. And as beautiful as those flames of yours are on stage, you’ve never once used them in battle.
Kaeya remembers you as a child, trying to keep up with Jean and Diluc, well on their way to being knights, and all you did was cry and cry and cry.
It was so clear you were never meant for battle, always been more of a lover, in his mind. Crybaby that you were, you were meant for the arts; your sword a pen, your battle cry a song.
“No,” Kaeya agrees, “but many people are not fans of the Fatui, to varying degrees of vocalness. I can’t imagine they’d be so foolish as to target the very Heart of Mondstadt for no other reason than your disapproval or mischief now.”
The world has coined you Mondstadt’s Heart. It’s Light, it’s Shooting Star. You are as close to an adored princess (—and you’d scoff at the idea of royalty, like a true Mondstadtian—) as you can get in this nation and though you carry the bloodline of Imunlaukr, you have spent your days with the everyday man. You traveled and performed and dined and drank with those far from nobility.
As soon as he and Jean and Diluc had joined the knights, you had already joined an acting troupe. You were already off, free as a bird, to compose and write and perform and sing and dance your way across Mondstadt. Across the world.
But you always flew back home.
At one point, he’d been close to you perhaps, in his youth. You’d grown up alongside him and Diluc and Jean.
He always assumed, actually, that you and Diluc would—
Well, you’re both the beloved figures of Mondstadt.
It’s light and dark, truthfully, blessed by the Pyro Archon.
But everything had fallen apart when—
Kaeya had assumed you’d sided with Diluc and never wished to see him again. Or, in the least, you had nothing good to say to him. You’d never been rude to him, but he’d kept his distance nonetheless.
Perhaps for fear of your scorn. Perhaps he couldn’t face it. Of all the people who could scold him or reject him, yours felt particularly hard for him. He blames it on your otherwise playful and loving nature; to be despised by one of the sweetest of Mondstadt would be hard to stomach.
You used to write to him, more than just coded letters when you were in grave danger. But slowly, the letters stopped, and he assumed Diluc must’ve said something or—
Your paths were easy to keep from crossing.
Kaeya deals in secrets and shadows and is busy with the knights.
And you deal in brilliant light and open-hearts, your whole life on a stage.
Nonetheless, he’s surprised by your warmth.
“What are you thinking?” You ask softly and the way you’ve said it makes him think you could tell his mind was spiraling.
Kaeya sets down your letter, “that you’ll have to stay here for the night if you’d like your little shadow to believe your ruse.”
You open your mouth, perhaps to protest, to ask again—what are you really thinking about?
But you don’t.
“I suppose I’ll have to crash on your couch.” You answer, before a wry smile curls at your lips, “unless you’d like to stage a grand argument where I storm out.”
“You’re still trouble.” Kaeya hums, eyeing you perhaps more fondly than he should.
“And you were my partner in crime once! Don’t tell me you wouldn’t now—“
“I would, if it benefited us.” He assures you, smiling himself, “but for now, I think keeping up a false relationship for the eyes of others may help us a great deal.”
“Is this your way of asking me out?” You tease.
“I think it would give me an excuse to be around you frequently to protect you. No one would think twice about two lovers recently rekindled.”
“Surely, I don’t need—“
“In the least, I’d like to observe your observer.” Kaeya says smoothly, and then, “you’re not seeing anyone else, are you? We won’t have to worry about your real lover, do we?”
The question hangs in the air for a moment, suspended.
“No,” you say then, something strange in your voice, a little shake of your head, “what about you?”
“I’m far too busy with the Knights of Favonius for a relationship.” Kaeya says flippantly, forcing his voice to remain even. “At least that makes things less complicated.”
“Right,” you agree and there is a moment of silence as the situation settles around the two of you. There’s a shyness in the silence, a sudden uncertainty. Kaeya does not do well in it. And apparently neither do you, because at the same time, you both try to say;
“You can take my bed for–”
“I’m sorry to intrude on–”
You both laugh a little and try again;
“You’re not intru–”
“I can’t take your–!”
Silence again.
Your eyes meet and there is a smile in the corners of them, laughing eyes, crinkled with their life.
He opens his mouth to speak again but this time, you lurch forward and beat him to it, “I can’t take your bed!”
“I’ll change the sheets, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He says easily.
“No! It’s your bed and I’ve just–dropped in on your life!” You exclaim, voice pitching upwards. Dramatic little thing that you are.
But Kaeya can’t help but feel as if it’s a little true, not in any horrible way, rather in a way that is worse;
It feels poignant.
Right, even.
To have you fall back into his life the way you used to fall as a child, reckless and with wild laughter.
“Not at all,” Kaeya says and he finds, surprisingly, that he means it, “besides, the couch is comfortable–”
“Then I can take it.” You counter.
“No, I’m afraid it’s my home and I’ve already decided”
“Kaeya.” You say, as if to scold him.
He says your name in return, in the same tone, as if to mock you.
Eyes locked again, Kaeya takes you in fully.
After all these years, you have only grown all the more beautiful. Everyone knew you would be, but somehow you’re more than he remembers, a full bloom, a perfectly ripened fruit. A fledged angel. You’re more than he could ever fathom, somehow in his home, after years, and showing him a warmth and kindness he perhaps doesn’t deserve.
Faintly, he wonders if he should work up the courage to apologize.
For what exactly, he can’t name.
(But for years now, he has felt the urge to apologize. To everyone. For everything. And yet it will never loosen from his throat, lodged there, down deep.)
“Would you like to borrow clothes to sleep in, too?” He asks and if his eye skips down to your body briefly, he is quick to avert it.
Sheepishly, as sweet as ever, you smile and say, “if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Not at all,” he purrs and then he stands, stretches a little, hands raised above his head. “Shall we?” He asks and begins to move towards the door.
You stand to follow him.
“Kaeya,” you say suddenly, his name flying from your mouth like a freed bird.
He pauses in the doorway, the arch between two places; where you are and aren’t. One foot in and one foot out.
He can tell by the look on your face, so painfully expressive, shuddering with several emotions, that you want to say much. You’re like an open book for him to plainly read, so vulnerable.
He hopes you won’t say a thing, doesn’t think he can quite bear to hear it.
“Thank you.” Is what you settle on and it’s soft, painfully earnest.
Kaeya swallows, hides it all behind an easy, flippant smile, “of course.”
And he turns away from you, turns his back on your seeking face because he can’t be what you find, doesn’t want you to pry. Your eyes are too searching and he has to be careful, so careful–
He gives you soft, worn clothes of his. He is careful not to look too long at how you fill their shape, or how you look with your hair undone or your face free of stage makeup.
He is sure all the world wishes to know you this way.
He tries not to make you laugh or smile and is certainly careful not to hold your gaze.
He sleeps with his eyepatch on, shirt carefully buttoned and irritatingly twisted up over his body.
He stares up at the ceiling of his living room as you lay in his bed and he forces himself to think 0f anything but, to think of his duties in the morning, or the look on your face all those years ago.
Why are you being so kind to him?
He turns the question over in his mind like a coin, over and over and over, as if it may land on a side and reveal to him an answer.
He hardly sleeps.
And in the morning, the birds sing and so do you, humming under your breath as you dorn your clothes from the night before.
“My great walk of shame,” you sing with a laugh. “Hopefully all of Mondstadt notices.”
“Wait,” he says and the morning sun makes him lighter, your laugh brightens his whole home, and he disappears into his room momentarily to fetch his bottle of cologne.
If he were a worse man, he would dab it onto your neck with his own fingers.
But instead, he hands you the bottle, “if you’d like them all to really talk.”
You laugh again, full bellied and beautiful. So beautiful that you put the morning bells to shame.
You dab it on your neck, against your pulse points, the smell of sweet mint and amber, something boozy, almost like bourbon, hangs in the air and–and you smell like him. And your own perfume, the crush of vanilla and dark berries.
They’d almost compliment each other.
And then you hang in his doorway like the light beams that linger as the morning turns to day and finally you say, “it was good to see you again.”
“You’ll be seeing much more of me now,” he replies breezily.
“And I’m glad for it.” You tell him, “at least something good has come of this.”
He swallows hard. He averts his gaze from you and onto the Mondstadt streets beyond. The birds that flutter and coo as the day blossoms and grows.
“Go,” he says gently, “and spread your rumors about us.”
You laugh again and promise to do just that, skip in your step, as you turn to take on the world as if not a thing could touch you.
And he shuts the door quickly–to his apartment and home, and to his heart.
He doesn’t dare think about it as he throws the lock into place.
But he’ll hum the tune you were singing this morning for the rest of the day and well into evening.
When he sleeps that night, it is with the thought of your form burning in his bed the night before and he thinks if he prayed much, he’d say oh Archons, what have I done? What have I gotten into?
What does the world have in store for me now?
***
SCENE II
In Angel’s Share, warm and glowing, a love shared between the patrons.
You— have the uncanny, incredible talent of prying open all that is around you, so that it bursts sweet like a ripe fruit into your waiting hands. You have known this since you were a child; if you listen, the world will reveal its secrets to you. If you sang, something sang back. And when you danced, all was moved with you.
And now, all that world seems to hang on your every breath, the tavern hushed as your voice carries over the sounds of a lyre. All the patrons’ faces are relaxed, open for you, as you sing.
Venti plays beside you, fingers plucking carefully, stroking into a fuller sound as your voice carries and rises.
It’s a slinky little song, playful and flirtatious, heart-warming as the room coos and sighs. Not a soul is spared–and they never are, Venti always tells you with a laugh. You can feel it, the energy that simmers, that you manage to reach for and control.
You’re singing about love. You don’t do it often.
But the song is an old one, about young lovers, and petal blossoms. Spring fevers and moonshine. You trill and chirp like a bird, voice soaring and floating above the room.
Until the last note blooms from your mouth and the patron’s of Angel’s Share erupt into applause.
You hadn’t planned on singing tonight, only sitting with Venti and Diluc at the bar. But, as what often happens on lovely, slow-warming nights of spring, the tavern fills and the customers beg for a song as they grow drunker and louder.
You know they will likely ask you for one more—a rowdier one that you will kick up your feet to and dance. You will clap and stomp and pull a drinking man into your arms briefly and everyone will hoot and cheer as you teach someone clumsier than you how to dance to your tune, for a moment so that he might see the world the way you do.
Or hear it with your ears.
They never quite can keep up, but it’s fun nonetheless.
And then, for Diluc’s sake, you will play a slow, soft tune with a violin perched on your shoulder. It will be an old drinking song that you have slowed and made into a minor chord so it rings with melancholy and not cheer.
But it will lull the patrons and urge them to leave for the night, arm and arm, bumping shoulders.
You will help Diluc clean up and he will urge you to head home, too. Venti will linger, though hardly lift a finger.
For now, though, you retreat from your place of spotlight to take up your stool at the bar once more. Venti perched up beside you.
“Another round, barkeep!” He announces.
Diluc looks flatly at you, before his eyes shift to Venti and drawl, “with what money?”
“I’ll pay for it, Diluc.” You pipe up and he sighs and shakes his head like he always does.
(He never charges you for them, anyways. You’ll still try to leave money for the both of you at the end of the night.)
Instead, he says, “that was quite the song.” As he sets a glass of valberry wine in front of you; it is one of your favorites.
For Venti, an ale.
“A love song!” Venti adds, waggling his brows as he loops his hand around the mug of ale. He takes a large sip, throat working, gulping it down far quicker than he should be.
“I was in the mood,” you say breezily, lifting one of your shoulders in an easy shrug.
Diluc cocks an eyebrow but otherwise does not press you. He returns to wiping down the bar.
Unlike Venti, who slams his mug back down onto the bar (sloshing some of the ale and Diluc, the poor man, sighs as he runs his rag over the splash) and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before saying, “you’re seeing someone!”
Now, technically, you are supposed to be sharing this little rumor in hopes of it spreading like wildfire.
But lying to Venti? To Diluc—
About Kaeya, no less.
So instead, you say, “I wouldn’t say that, per se.”
Venti pounces excitedly, “but there is someone! Who is it? Do we know them?”
You swallow. Though you are an actor, you are hardly a liar and even now, it turns your stomach over itself to do it. You’ve never been good at lying; your heart has always been on your sleeve, emotions written so plainly across your face. Lying makes your skin itch, you can hardly ever do it, even rarer can you pull it off.
“Well,” your voice goes high.
“We do, don’t we?” Venti asks, impish grin hooked onto his lips. .
He mistakes you for shyness or awkwardness over a crush, rather than nerves or guilt. You let him.
Venti is a dear friend of yours and has been for several years now. It was a sort of instant connection with him; even stranger and more wonderful than that, once the world had given him to you, it had felt like he’d always been in your life, at your side. Your bard. Your drinking and dancing partner. Your confidant and mischievous accomplice. The games the two of you play are far beyond anyone else; you send each other all over Mondstadt with scavenger hunts and puzzles–for new sheet music he’s written for you to sing or exciting news you wish to tell him– tongue twisters and poems, cherished clues and inside jokes. Your letters are often in code or riddle. The two of you are always disappearing to secret places and hiding spots.
He’s your dearest companion.
Lying to him troubles you greatly.
You’ll have to ask Kaeya if you can tell him, if you could explain to Diluc that–
Still, you swallow, “you do, yes.”
“Let me guess!” Venti then says, tapping his chin in contemplation. And for a moment, you have half a mind to lead him down a riddle, instead of this guessing game. The wine is muddling your head, though. “Is it Franz?” Venti asks.
You laugh, surprised, shaking your head quickly; Franz is a fellow actor. He’s great fun but—
“Franz is seeing Emil!”
“It’s not Rosaria, is it?” Venti then asks, “I thought you said that was a one off sort of—“
“It’s not Rosaria!” You cut him off, cheeks suddenly blossoming into an embarrassed heat as you glance at Diluc. Venti had been the only one who knew about that.
Until now, of course.
You smile sheepishly.
“Rosaria?” Diluc questions, surprised as well.
“It was a one off sort of—“ You begin to repeat Venti, laughing nervously.
“I just had to be sure!” Venti then cuts you off, before taking another long sip of ale. He makes a show of mulling over his thoughts.
“Is it…” He trails off, before his eyes suddenly sharpen and pin you to your place. You swallow because you know him and you know that look. Sometimes, you think Venti knows too much. You don’t know if it’s intuition or–
“…Kaeya?”
You freeze.
“It is!” Venti crows.
“What?”
You wince.
“It’s just—it’s nothing—really!” You squeak out.
“I had heard you went home with Kaeya!” Venti continues, loud enough that, yes, this rumor will certainly spread now.
And more importantly, you believe it’s loud enough to reach the ears of the man who has been following you all day; the undercover Fatui member sits not far off, keeping his eye on you. He pretends to drink alone.
“You went home with Kaeya?” Diluc repeats and if he sounds as if he might scold you, you suppose you wouldn’t exactly blame him.
You lean in towards them and instinctively, they do the same, the three of your heads ducking close to each other.
“It wasn’t like that,” you whisper to them, “but if anyone else asks, it was like that.”
Diluc’s brows furrow and a frown settles onto his lips. Venti throws his head back and laughs.
“What are you two up to?” Diluc asks scornfully, eyeing you.
“Nothing!” You chirp but it isn’t very convincing.
“I knew you had feelings for him,” Venti continues, perhaps a little too loudly again, and somehow, it’s as if his voice could carry. Like he’s thrown it playfully, caught it on the breeze from the open window.
Venti has always been rather magical to you. In the same way it feels as if you’ve always known him, it feels as if he could have always been here, in Mondstadt, even before he appeared. There is something in Venti that sings to you, the way the wind does on a beautiful day, rushing through your hair and into your heart. You couldn’t name it, but you know it as well as you know the streets of your home, as well as you know your favorite sonnet or song.
You make a show of shushing him and he laughs heartily again before he throws you a wink.
You grin mischievously yourself this time.
“Has Kaeya ever taken a lover?” Venti asks now, perhaps wondering out loud.
“Too many.” Diluc grouses.
“He’s strange that way, isn’t he?” You muse, taking a slow sip of your wine. You consider your next words. “He somehow has the reputation of taking countless lovers, but I couldn’t name you a single one.”
Venti’s eyes twinkle, as if he knows something you don’t. Like a child, you sometimes wish to beg him to tell you what he seems to know, what the world has given him, but you know that is no way to learn.
“Diluc?” You question.
Diluc gives you another flat look, “I am not privy to Kaeya’s romantic life.” He puts away a glass a little more forcefully than necessary, the glass twinkling, “and I have no wish to be.”
“You can’t name a single paramour of your brother’s?” Venti presses and the two of you lean against the bar in intrigue now, excited, shining eyes turned to Diluc.
“No, thank the Anemo Archon, I can’t.”
Venti snorts at a joke you can’t seem to grasp.
But then you and he share a look, and this time, you can read very plainly what is in his face. You wear twin smiles, impish, and all trouble.
Diluc shakes his head, “don’t look like that in my bar. If you’re going to cause trouble, do so elsewhere.”
“You’re such a grouch,” you snip back at Diluc, taking another sip of your wine, the sweet burn settling deep in your belly. Warmth blossoms. “You’re not curious at all?”
“No,” Diluc says again quickly.
You narrow your eyes, “liar. I know some part of you cares, no matter how badly you pretend not to.”
Diluc huffs, “if I cared, I’d know.”
Venti hums, “then you do know.”
“I just said–”
“I think it has more to do with Kaeya, don’t you?” Venti then says lightly, perhaps too lightly, “if Kaeya wanted you to know, you’d know. Kaeya keeps his cards close to his chest.”
Another sip of wine has you feeling flushed. Open.
“Well, I’m just going to ask him the next time I see him.” You declare to the two, to the bar, perhaps to the whole world.
As if maybe it was you who asked for the truth, he’d answer.
“Good luck with that.” Diluc says dryly.
“Good luck to you!” Venti cheers, jerking his mug of ale out to you so that you may clink your glass of wine against his. You do so, just as he laughs;
“Good luck on your endeavor to capture our Captain’s heart! If anyone could, it would be you!”
***
SCENE III
The Mondstadt streets, early morning; bustling and lively. A flourish of colors as people pass to and fro. Our lovers meander, as if in another time entirely. Kaeya is often shrouded, by people, by vendors, by the world.
You walk beside Kaeya, shoulder to shoulder, past vendors of food and flowers and jewelry. Children yell and chase each other past you, mother’s hollering after them. The smell of fresh food and perfume floats on the breeze.
Kaeya swaggers beside you, sword at his hip, in his full knight’s uniform. You, on the other hand, are in simple skirts; white ruffled fabric beneath an outer layer of peach. A corset of flowers, woven, but hardy and loved, with silk ribbons in the back all tied up and tangled in your hair. Despite the dress, you’ve decided today to bind your chest. Some days, you bind, some you don’t. Some days you are more masculine and others feminine.
And often, you live in between, perhaps around the two. Both and neither all at once.
Heads turn as you pass but this is what Kaeya wanted.
He ducks his head now to say, “your shadow is certainly persistent.”
His voice is low and soft, kept hidden from prying ears.
You look up at him, “they always are. I swear, one day, they’ll follow me into the bathroom–”
Kaeya snorts, casting his eyes back outwards at the moving streets.
Now, he says, more obviously, “what have you got left on your list?”
You look down into the basket on your arm; the loaf of bread that is still warm, the couple of fruits and vegetables that fill in with color around it like large jewels.
“Milk and eggs,” you respond, “but I like to look at the flowers, too.”
“As you wish,” Kaeya smiles and you feel his hand at the small of your back, leading you through the crush of people, towards where you will find your milk and eggs.
“Kaeya,” you say, soft as the breeze.
“Hm?”
“I have questions.”
He quirks a brow at you now, intrigued, perhaps even wary. It’s hardly a flicker of his expression. But still, he asks, “of what kind?”
“Mostly the secretive kind.” You answer; you’d like to ask who you can share this false relationship with. You want to know if he’s informed Jean.
You step up to the vendor for milk and eggs with Kaeya at your back.
“You should save those for later, when you’re in my home.”
“Oh?” You ask, head turning over your shoulder to look at him,“I’m coming over later?”
Your eyes meet and if you didn’t know better, you’d think the tension is real, the little fissure of heat that kindles inside you makes you flush with warmth in the face. Along the tips of your ears.
Kaeya really is handsome. A true knight in shining armor or–he looks like a prince from a fairytale, you think. The regal line of his nose and pretty dip of his cupid’s bow lip, the depth of his blue eye; you swear it could be a shade of blue you have never seen before. One that you could give a new name to.
“If you’d like,” he says breezily, his smile sharp and handsome, “I’ll provide dinner.”
“And wine?” You ask, a smile of your own tipping up into a mischievous curve.
“Always wine.” He agrees and this time, you think his smile is more sincere.
You purchase your eggs and milk with twinkling coins that you press into the warm, wrinkled hand of the old farmer who sells them. And then you are on your way again, meandering the streets at Kaeya’s side.
“I do have a question that can be asked now, though.” You return, cradling the basket on your arm filled with your goods, letting it rest against your hip.
“By all means,” he replies, as if he’ll be that easy to give you an answer. He gazes back outwards, at the world around him.
And before you can lose an ounce of courage, you look up at him and simply ask, “have you taken many lovers?”
He laughs, surprised, and his head turns sharply to look at you again. “Is this a trick question?”
You laugh now yourself, “not at all! I’m being earnest.” You implore him with your eyes now, expectant, and honest.
He laughs again, softer, shorter, as if he can’t believe you. He returns his gaze to the street in front of him. “I’ve had a few.” He answers simply.
“A few?” You prod.
“My, you’re nosy.” He teases.
“I’m curious. I want to know!” You defend, nudging him a little, “I want to know more than just the elusive rumors about the casanova of the Knights of Favonoius.”
“Is that what I am?” He purrs, “a casanova?”
“Don’t change the subject!” You respond with another laugh and it’s almost a little dizzying, watching him work in real time to slip from your grasp. You feel heat in your cheeks, up along the nape of your neck.
But you adjust your grip, you try again.
“I’ve had quite a few.” He amends sheepishly, boyishly. “I hope you’re not the jealous type.”
“I am.” You snip back playfully, honestly, but still, “were any of them serious?”
You can tell he is weighing how to answer as he lapses into a brief silence and then, as if he’d manufactured it, he urges you suddenly to a vendor for flowers, with her large bushels of them, beautiful and bright and fragrant. He ducks behind a burst of them, appearing around the other side with one in hand, which he offers to you.
His grin is lopsided, handsome. “For you, my lady.”
It’s blue and beautiful, full of fragrant petals and blooming a deep purple at the center.
You snatch the flower from his grasp, “you’re avoiding my question.”
Still, you bring the flower up to your nose and inhale deeply.
Kaeya meanders around the other bunches of them and you follow after him, keeping the one in your hand close to your face, by your nose. It’s sweet smelling, soft and mellow, and fresh.
“What do you define as serious?” He returns your question with one of his own finally.
“Have you been in love?” You ask now.
“Sure,” he answers with a secretive slip of a smile.
You don’t know why, but you almost think he’s bluffing.
“So it was serious?” You encourage, trying to ease more out of him.
He shrugs gracefully now and gives you another, “sure.”
“Did you think you would stay with them forever?” You pivot now, knowing you have to be specific. The question bubbles from you without thought, as if you are asking if the weather is alright, or if he’d prefer the red or gold flowers this morning.
He stops up short.
He looks at you very strangely for a moment.
And perhaps it is one of the first straightforward and honest things he’s said to you, “nothing lasts forever.”
“No, but you could promise your own forever to someone.” You respond, letting the petals of his flower brush up against your cheek, soft and silky.
“Well, what about you?” He returns smoothly, carefully avoiding what you’d just said.
You smile, because you know now, you can tell he is an expert of avoidance. You smile like you’ve caught him.
And as if to teach him, you answer very honestly, “I have been in love many times, but I only promised forever once to someone.”
Now it’s your turn to meander around the flowers, turn over your shoulder and wander away from him a little.
He follows tentatively.
“And what happened?” Kaeya asks carefully.
You pull another flower out of the bunch to admire it next to the one he gave you, a wispy white one, twinged peach at the edges.
“I got stood up,” you admit and pick your head up from your flower searching to look at him briefly, “we were going to elope.”
The look in his eye is perhaps a little too delicate for your liking.
You return to fiddling with the flowers, pulling another, and another, to create your own, small bouquet of them. It’s easier when your hands are busy to speak about this still, which even years later, feels raw and prickly.
“It was while I was touring in Liyue–we were supposed to meet at some old ruins–an altar– and be married at dawn. I was going to leave the acting troupe, leave Mondstadt behind forever, and disappear with him.” You say, carefully arranging your flowers, delicately shifting and changing them. You offer a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and try to joke, “it was all very romantic at the time.”
You let out a breath, admiring your bouquet, “I waited all morning. And then all afternoon. All night. I thought something horrible happened to him but–”
You pick your head up again and this time Kaeya offers you another flower; one to match your bouquet. You accept it and it fits beautifully into the bunch of them, carefully placed at the center. It’s another blue one, soft and lovely and full to bursting.
“It turns out he just got cold feet. He married a Liyue girl a year later.”
“And what did you do?” He asks softly.
“I went on to perform in Sumeru, Fontaine, Natlan, and Snezhnaya. And then I came home to Mondstadt, licking my wounds, and haunting poor Diluc and Venti at the bar. Singing too many heartbreak songs, drinking a little too much–you know, the whole spiel.” You say and this time, you do smile, because despite how hurt you were, memories of Venti trying to cheer you up, causing a ruckus, and poor Diluc trying his best to help you as well flood to you.
Jean taking you out on girls’ nights and your fellow artists banding together to keep you afloat. Lisa finding beautiful copies of your favorite plays and stories. Good people who came back into your life and tried to put you together again. Good moments, despite it all.
“Well, if it’s any consolation,” Kaeya begins smoothly, reaching out to smooth a petal a certain way, “I think that is perhaps the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard of any man doing.”
You snort and Kaeya continues, “I’m serious.” But you can’t tell if he means it or not, “Imagine losing the very Heart of Mondstadt.”
He suddenly takes the bouquet from your willing hands and goes to pay for them with shimmering coins. He returns the flowers moments later, settles them into the crook of your arm, but not before stealing one and tucking it carefully behind your ear.
“There,” he murmurs, eye flickering over your open face, unreadable as always, “perfect.”
And with that, he saunters away and you are left staring after him, on his coat tails for a moment.
But he pauses, he waits for your skip of a step to come back into place at his side.
The flowers fill the space of your kitchen with the color of blue you can’t name, the one that is caught in his eye, and the one you dream about in Mondstadt skies.
***
PRELUDE TO SCENE IV
Late afternoon. Outside the monumental Cathedral. Once inside, light pours from stained glass windows in a kaleidoscope of color. The way it touches you is almost a mystery, a vision. The audience should never fully see Kaeya’s face as he turns and moves, always partially shadowed.
“I need to check on something before we see Jean.” You tell Kaeya and he hustles to keep up with your steps.
“In the Cathedral?” Kaeya asks, brows rising over his face in surprise.
“Sort of!” You chirp and then you glance over your shoulder, throw him a smile he knows means trouble, and say, “it’s a secret.”
Kaeya masks his face well as he follows you around a sudden stone bend that veers away from the main room. He assumes it will go up, to the spires, but instead, it goes down. He stares at curled stone steps that lead into darkness. He glances around for a moment as if someone might stop the two of you, but no one does.
You disappear into the shadows and Kaeya follows behind quickly.
Now at a door, you turn, press your back to it and Kaeya comes up short. It’s a tight space, this narrow crook, and if Kaeya were to step away, he’d have to take another step up above you.
“Will you guard the door?” You ask sweetly.
Kaeya can’t help but laugh, a little surprised, “are you supposed to be doing this?”
“I have a key.” You protest, fishing out a necklace from beneath your buttoned up shirt–today you are in trousers, with your chest bound, but a pair of heeled boots. You hold it up and a gold key shimmers in dull light. It looks old and perhaps once illustrious, with a whirling, intricate design.
“Who gave that to you?” Kaeya asks.
You look perfectly innocent, “I found it myself.”
Kaeya can’t help the smile, “does anyone know you have it?”
You narrow your eyes, “you’re not going to tattle on me, are you?”
His smile turns into a fond laugh, warm and softly echoing in this little hallway, the arch of the door. “No. Should I be worried?”
“No,” you respond and he’s fit to believe you as you turn back to the door and fit the key into the lock. With a gentle, easy click, the door creaks open. “I’m just going to fetch my diary.”
“Your diary?”
Without an answer, Kaeya watches as you disappear behind the door, which leads to another, darker hallway. You lift your hand and light fills the space, a flame of yours licking to life. There is another door at the end of the hallway. He assumes you’ll go on, push through that one as well.
But instead, you turn to the side to face a bookshelf lining one of the hallways. There’s plenty of them. You push on what appears to be a small statue fastened to the shelf and use it as leverage to begin sliding it over.
Your eyes flick to Kaeya only briefly and you lift your finger to your lips as if to ask him to keep your secret.
The door shuts before he can stop it, sealing him away.
Instantly, he frets.
He pushes against the door but it’s locked now. And you have the key.
He tries to remain calm. He feels suddenly foolish or tricked. He just thought–
Well, he assumed you were a goody-two-shoes. Mondstadt’s proper, most beloved girl. He thought you didn’t have a rebellious or secretive bone in your body. He assumed, for all intents and purposes, that you were something of a prude in this way. A rule follower.
Huh.
Kaeya glances back from the way he’d came, to the door.
Perhaps he doesn’t know you as well as he thought.
He tries not to worry the longer the minutes grow.
He doesn’t want to call for you because he doesn’t want to attract attention but if you don’t return shortly–
The door suddenly creeks again and Kaeya has to step out of the way as you reappear behind it.
And in your hand is a small, leather-bound notebook.
You shut the door behind you, sealing your secrets away.
“Diary found.” You tell him with a smile, holding it up. Then, you tuck into the crochet bag on your shoulder.
He stares at you, still rather surprised.
“What?” You ask, brushing past him, to head back up towards the curved stairs.
“What secrets do you have in that diary that warrant such a hiding place?” Kaeya asks, still astonished.
You laugh, warm and bubbling, as you return to the main floor of the Cathedral. The colors of the stained glass in the afternoon sun shimmer on you, dancing over your skin in a wash of violets and peaches, blues and crimsons. Emerald colors your shoulders. Gold along your face. You look like a wonder. A fairy. Part god–
“Nothing so important–just my feelings. Songs I’ve written. Snippets of poetry.” You tell him and he wishes he could believe you. You say it so earnestly. “Secrets of the heart, I suppose.” You joke.
Kaeya glances behind him, then back to you, “and where did you–find that place? How did you–?”
“I know many places in Mondstadt that others don’t. I’ve stumbled upon them ever since I was a child.”
You catch his gaze over your shoulder, shimmering in his vision, and smile, “maybe I’ll show you more of them sometime.”
The afternoon light almost blinds him as you swing the massive doors open once more. He dumbly follows after you, taken aback, enamored, in awe.
“Come along, Captain!” You sing like a bird, “Jean is waiting!”
***
SCENE IV
Jean’s office. Golden hour. The light turns the wood of her desk and floor and the walls bronze. Papers are scattered around her desk, haphazardly organized. Her hair is a halo glow in the last rays of the sun. Kaeya’s back is turned, towards the bookshelves and away from the audience, like he might be searching for something. He is careful not to look at you.
You sit across Jean’s desk as the afternoon wanes into evening, the sun dipping you in honey rays, soft and dreamlike. Kaeya busies himself with the rows of books, keeping his back carefully turned away from the two of you. He listens closely, though, even as he pretends he doesn’t.
“So you’re not actually…seeing each other?” Jean asks.
“No,” you laugh, “did I scare you with my letter?”
“Yes.” Jean says seriously.
Kaeya fights the urge to turn and offer her a cold look. Still, she continues, “I thought I was going to have to lecture one of you. Though, I’m not sure which one–”
You laugh now, fuller, warmer.
It’s a lovely sound, it fills the space with warmth.
“Who else knows? Kaeya, I don’t appreciate you withholding this from me at first.” Jean says and Kaeya can feel her eyes touching the back of his shoulders like the tip of a sword might.
“You know I deal in secrets.” He responds flippantly.
“This is different.” Jean responds and perhaps he does know that.
You and Jean are childhood friends, he knows Jean cares a great deal for you. Or harbors some sort of over protective, sisterly feeling towards you. And even when you went away, even when you hardly saw each other, he knew the feelings didn’t wane.
No, he knows how childhood bonds are.
“It’s alright, Jean, we’ve had to be careful. We needed to establish a believable cover.” You are quick to mediate, perhaps defend him. “I started this, anyways.”
Jean won’t get mad at you, nor will she blame you for much.
“Currently, we’re the only three who know.” Kaeya pipes up, allowing his finger to trace over the spine of a book gracefully.
“I’m trying to convince him to allow me to tell Diluc and Venti.” You quickly add and Kaeya knows now that he’s lost that battle.
Jean will side with you.
“Diluc doesn’t know? Wouldn’t he be a useful ally now? She spends a lot of time at the tavern; he could keep an eye on her when you can’t.” Jean says.
Kaeya takes a moment too long to respond, he knows it, senses his mistake, because Jean pounces–
“You two are a pain.”
“Now, now,” Kaeya begins smoothly, “I just think the less people know, the better.”
“You know you can trust Diluc.” Jean scolds.
“Diluc is a terrible liar.” Kaeya snips and his head snaps to the side to glance at Jean over his shoulder. He quickly rights himself and shields his face once more, returning to his perusal of books.
“I’m sure if he knows what’s at stake, he could keep it together.” Jean responds, tone firm and unmoving.
Kaeya sighs heavily, but his next reply is cut off by your own voice, “I don’t like lying to him or Venti.” And then, because you’ve never been one to shy away from the truth, you add, “especially about you.”
“I think both would readily help us. The more eyes on her, the safer she is.” Jean agrees.
Kaeya can not explicitly express why this makes him bristle— or perhaps he simply doesn’t want to admit it. He knows it, somewhere inside of him, knows that the thing that claws and scratches looks a little too close to jealousy. It is perhaps just a little too green. Maybe, he wanted to keep you to himself just a little longer.
But he knows, logically, Jean is right. And if it’s for your safety–
Kaeya finally turns to look at the two of you. Which is foolish, because the sun is setting, and you are in its window. You are caught in its light, warm and relaxed, with your chin in your hand as you turn to look at him.
“As you wish, Acting Grand Master.” Kaeya says evenly and offers a (frankly) rude little bow. Jean will know he’s mocking her a little and that he doesn’t particularly like the decision made. And then he says to you, “shall we? I’d like to get you home before sundown.”
You prick your head up, concern and surprise on your face, “am I staying with you for the night?”
Kaeya is careful to let the tone of your voice roll off him and not take it or covet it.
“No,” he muses, “I thought I’d stay with you for the night.”
He pretends he doesn’t notice the way you brighten or the way you jump up from your seat to follow him. He doesn’t turn to look at you, but he hears your soft goodbye to Jean, and her murmuring something in return. Your sweet little laugh. And then your quick steps to catch up to him once more.
When you exit the Knights of Favonius headquarters, taking the steps with a little skip, you suddenly sidle up to his side.
Right underneath his arm, attaching yourself.
He is careful to school his features, dropping his arms around your shoulders easily. Yes, he supposes it’s wise to look like a couple heading home together.
“Sorry we ganged up on you,” you say and the way you peek up at him would be enough to send any foolish man’s heart into a tailspin.
Kaeya is desperately lucky he’s never been a fool.
“No,” he soothes, “Jean is right. And you shouldn’t have to lie to your friends.”
He feels your fingers flex at the bend of his rib, in the fabric of his clothes like you’re tightening yourself to him. He walks in step with you, with your side pressed to his.
Has he ever done this, he wonders, so openly with someone? Walked through the cobblestone streets with a lover under his arm? Or has he kept everyone in shadows and secrecy?
It doesn’t matter. This is a secret, too. It isn’t real.
And still, the question flies from his mouth before he is prepared for it, “why didn’t you ask for Diluc’s help?”
You stop walking and as he continues for a moment, you slip from his embrace.
He turns to look at you. The sun is a crimson flare, catching on your ruby Vision, on the look in your eyes.
You smile like a cat that’s caught a canary.
“Kaeya,” you say his name like a melody, “are you the jealous type?”
For a heartbeat, he almost feels harpooned, caught, suddenly struck in place. It’s frightening to be picked apart so effortlessly, with that smile on your face. Earnest. Horribly lovely.
What a strange creature you are, he marvels.
But then he laughs and lies, “not particularly.”
You hum and begin to saunter towards him, walk on past him, and he is caught in your shadow. He follows.
“It would’ve made sense to ask him.” Kaeya continues.
“But I asked you,” you say simply, “you’re who I thought of.”
Carefully, he reaches for your hand, the brushing of his pinky to yours. As if to ask, may I play pretend with you? As if to ask, may I take up the role of the one who gets your hand?
You readily accept it and the part, too. And then you smile at him again, impish, filled with mirth;
“Besides–can you imagine how scandalized Diluc would’ve been if I’d given him the same letter I gave you?”
Kaeya truly laughs now, deep from his belly, and you laugh with him as you pull at his hand, as you press up against his side. Your fit of giggles fills the sky.
And the world must watch as you stroll through Mondstadt together and wander up to your home on the hill. He thinks the world must watch as he slips through your door, through your fingers, like a serpent in a garden.
Like a sweet sinner, a non-believer, slipping into the back pew in the house of a love-spun god.
***
SCENE V
The trail from Springvale to the main city should feel familiar to us. Though lonelier now, shrouded in darkness that was easily chased off with two. Later, Kaeya’s apartment; a rapidly growing safe haven.
After your rehearsal on the stage in Springvale, you meander back to the city. Kaeya said he would meet you halfway, but currently there is no sign of him. As the hush of night descends, a feeling of wariness overtakes you. You hear the owls begin to hoot and the distant, far off call of a wolf. The wind rustles the bushes.
You turn to glance over your shoulders, again and again, half afraid that one of the times you may find someone staring back.
You try to calm yourself. You swear you’re being paranoid; you have taken this road countless times. There is little to fear.
And still, the feeling persists. It grows.
You turn fully to look behind you, allow a burst of flame to erupt in your palm to illuminate your darkening world.
“Is someone there?” You call out.
With everything in you, you wish to hear Kaeya’s voice reply. Or Diluc’s. Maybe a fellow actor lollygagging behind?
Your heart thuds hard in your chest, quickening.
And even before you see the rush of a shadow, something instinctive, something ancient in you, tells you to run–
You take off as you plunge yourself into darkness, fleet-footed and desperate.
You run hard and know certainly now that someone follows. You can hear it, feel it, the press of them behind you. The city lights of Mondstadt in the night sky are your beacon.
If I can just get to the city, to the light, to my city of light–
You run harder, more wildly. Fear sharpens and quickens you.
A flash of silver ahead of you.
Your heart knows it before your mind;
“Kaeya!”
You nearly collide with him but he’s got you, hands on your shoulders to steady you, eye flying over your face desperately.
“What is it? Are you hurt?” He asks before looking past you.
“There’s some–” you turn to look with him.
But the forest behind you is quiet. The darkness is hushed. Almost unnaturally so. Goosebumps erupt over the nape of your neck.
Your words die, dwindle in your mouth.
You swore–
You try to catch your breath, try to quell your racing heart. “I thought there was something behind me.”
Kaeya has gone inhumanly still, too, listening, watching. You think he senses something, too. He must know danger, know its call, no matter how silent.
He’s got his hand on your lower back, corralling you closer to him protectively. He doesn’t stop eyeing a spot ahead, though, in the darkness.
He hums. “Perhaps it was an animal.” But he seems to know differently.
After a moment, when you have your breath under more of your control, you manage to get out, “must’ve been.”
“Let’s go,” Kaeya turns you away, hand slipping around your waist for support.
You lean into him.
Belatedly, you realize you’re shivering. Hard. Trembling all over.
He ushers you into his apartment above the city once more. The moment the door is shut and locked tight, he moves with more urgency to guide you to his couch.
He disappears momentarily and you almost want to call him back, like a child, you want to reach for him. He returns with water and sets it on the coffee table.
He kneels in front of you now, like the knight he is.
“Are you okay?” He asks first and again, he searches you. “Are you hurt?”
You shake your head, the movement jolted, unsteady.
“I just feel–strange.”
Kaeya’s eye softens fractionally, “probably an adrenaline crash. I’ll grab a blanket.”
Again, he disappears and you want to stop him. You want to grab his wrist before he can slip from you, you want to sink into his arms. You want to be held.
But you sit and you tremble.
When Kaeya gently fixes the blanket to your shoulders from behind, you jolt, startled.
“I’m sorry,” he says then, “it’s just me.” He comes around again to kneel in front of you. He pulls the blanket tighter around your shoulders, affixing it to you, bundling you in it.
It smells like him. You try and take in a deep breath to still your trembling.
After a moment, you say, “there was someone.”
“I believe you,” Kaeya agrees softly, “someone was chasing you–I heard the second pair of footsteps and came running.”
You inhale shakily. Tense silence fills the space.
You can hardly speak, “do you think–do you think they were actually trying to–?”
Kaeya inadvertently answers your question, “I think we should be more careful from now on. I want eyes on you always from here on out.”
“I thought it’d be fine–I always walk home from rehearsal and–”
“I know,” Kaeya soothes, “I thought I’d get to you sooner. I should’ve been. I’m–”
“They’d just followed me around before.” You say uselessly, almost in disbelief, “why would they–?”
“We’ll find out,” Kaeya says gently, “but for now, you should rest. How do you feel?”
“Shaky,” you answer, “I’m not sure how I’m going to sleep tonight.”
“I’ll be right out here,” Kaeya promises, “they won’t try anything now. It’s clear they’re waiting until you’re alone.”
You want to beg him to allow you to stay on the couch with him, or for him to sleep in bed beside you. You feel needlessly clingy, like a scared child. How silly, he must think of you, to be so frightened of a little chase. You’re sure he’s seen so much worse, faced danger you can only conjure in storybooks.
You bite your lip, catch between your teeth so it won’t wobble. You nod.
Kaeya studies you for a long moment before you feel the careful press of his hand on your knee, the delicate swipe of his thumb in a soothing caress.
“Would you like me to draw you a bath?” Kaeya asks softly.
For a moment, you’re surprised by him or perhaps his attempts at soothing you. A bath does sound appealing though being alone doesn’t.
(Instantly, an image flashes hot in your mind, of you in the bath, and Kaeya leaning against the counter to chat idly with you. Or seated beside the basin, his sleeves rolled up, or–)
“No, I don’t need–” you’re quick to try and assure him.
“It’s no trouble at all,” he stands with grace and ease and makes his way to his bathroom. In a moment, the water is running and steam is filling the small space. The scent of iris and eucalypts.
You force yourself to stand on trembling legs, astonished with how thoroughly adrenaline has riddled your poor body. You’d think you’d be used to adrenaline in some way, the sharp plummet of your heart because of stage fright.
But performing dangerous tales is significantly different from being a part of one.
“Thank you,” you say gently, catching Kaeya’s hand to squeeze momentarily.
“It’s nothing,” he brushes you off and slips from you, allowing you to disappear behind the door to the bathroom.
All alone you can hear the drum of your heart again.
Your reflection looks strange to your own eyes in the mirror. Everything feels different; unreal, almost. You look away quickly, towards the running water, the filling bathtub.
You try not to think, to strip yourself bare, and to leave the jitteriness on the floor with your clothes.
You slip into the warm water.
Kaeya left you clothes of his, a towel.
You want to call for him. You want your heart to quiet. You want your fear to dissipate like the steam.
You force yourself to take deep breaths. You force yourself to wash and scrub at your face and neck. You are okay. Kaeya is outside the bathroom and you are safe.
Still, your feeling of unease doesn’t leave you.
Even after you have donned Kaeya’s clothes and stepped from the warm bathroom.
You linger in the archway of his bedroom.
He looks like he’s about to speak but you beat him to it, “will you stay with me? In your room?” In your bed?
You watch Kaeya’s brows raise in surprise before he quickly schools his features. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“I’m asking you,” you respond and perhaps there is a note of vulnerability, perhaps there is a wobbling, small part of you that sounds a little too desperate to his ears.
You find some form of embarrassment in the press of heat in your face. But you don’t retract it, let your honesty hang between the two of you like a pendulum.
“I’ll sit on the armchair in there until you fall asleep,” Kaeya compromises, “how does that sound?”
Relief is sweet and cool and winding around you. You let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding tightly to.
“I’d appreciate that.” You say and you turn to try and make yourself comfortable in his bed once more.
There has been several nights now where you have slept in his bed alone while he sleeps on the couch. Each night, you offer to take the sofa, and each night, he denies you.
Tonight, he drapes himself over the lovechair in the corner of his room.
He settles deep, eye flickering over you as you turn the covers over and crawl into bed.
In the silence, you can hear your heart again, “I’m sorry for making you do this.”
“There’s no reason to apologize,” Kaeya says smoothly, waving away your concern, “I’m glad I could help.”
You wonder if he means that or if he’s saying it because it is the right thing to say. You don’t dare ask him. You don’t dare press; some truths you would rather not be revealed to.
“You look like you’re about to tell an incredible bed time story in that arm chair.” You joke instead.
Kaeya snorts, head rolling a little onto his chest. He looks tired, too, disheveled a little in a way that he rarely is.
But he’s still so buttoned up; you wish he’d show you the defenseless side of him. The one not in perfect ruffled blouses or knights’ coats. The one without the eye patch or the carefully charming smile.
“Would you like me to tell you a story until you fall asleep?” He asks dryly.
But when you laugh a little and say, “yes, actually,” you mean it.
Kaeya’s brow quirks upwards.
“I don’t have many bedtime stories.” He tells you.
“That’s okay,” you reply, “I’m going to fall asleep soon, I’m sure.”
Kaeya hums lightly, letting his head fall back against the back of the chair. He hangs there for a minute, revealing the lovely brown shade of his exposed throat.
Finally, he says, “I’ve got one.”
“Please share,” you encourage.
Kaeya draws in a slow breath, allowing the silence of the room to be sucked in, too. He holds it so the only thing you can do is wait, watching him in the near-dark.
Finally, he speaks and his voice is nothing like you’ve heard it before;
“Once, there was a prince from a far away, forgotten land…”
The soft cadence of his story, hushed, and almost tentative, lulls you. It eases your heart and your mind. It reminds you of the wash of the waves against the shore or the wind as gentle as can be.
In no time at all, you are drifting off into strange, plum-darkened dreams of lost princes and beasts in the night.
And unknown to you, Kaeya gently pulls the covers of his own bed up over your shoulders. Gingerly, he tucks you into bed and watches your sleeping face for a moment.
With a breath loosened, he finally leaves your side and finds his place on the couch.
And in the morning, for once, you are awake before him and find him on the couch.
Carefully, you tuck the blanket he’d thrown over himself up around his shoulders. You brush a strand of his long hair from his face. You let loose a quiet breath.
He sighs in his sleep and turns towards your touch, chases it in his dreams.
And though you linger, you don’t bother him again, but turn to begin making coffee for the two of you.
You hum softly, an ancient little melody from a faraway land, and it stays in your head the entire day, with thoughts of a lost prince who, in your mind, surely looks like Kaeya; handsome and refined and beautiful. He must be noble and kind and charming like him, too.
And more than anything, his eyes must be stars like his, too, and his hands must be calloused and gentle.
And his voice must be like his, too, when he murmurs sleepily, rubbing at his eye, “where did you learn that song?”
“I don’t remember,” you reply and you set a steaming mug of coffee on the table beside him, “I think from a traveler, a long time ago.”
“I haven’t heard it since I was child.” He admits.
“You know it?” You ask.
“Thank you,” he says softly, voice still rough with sleep, “for the coffee.”
“Thank you,” you respond, “for staying beside me last night.”
“It was nothing,” he assures gently. And then he finally answers you, perhaps in a way that you know is personal to him, “it’s a lullaby.”
You smile behind the lip of your own mug, gentle and sweet, and say;
“Then the coffee is nothing, too.”
***
Act I, Part II –>
#kaeya alberich x reader#kaeya x reader#kaeya x you#kaeya alberich x you#kaeya x y/n#kaeya alberich x y/n#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impct x y/n#cielo's writing!#cielo writes!#cielo collabs!
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Pirate AU (A Corsair Freebooter) Masterpost
(Name for the AU credit goes to @lizaluvsthis)
SYNOPSIS
Mario, a famous actor in the theater image of the Mushroom Kingdom and "bodyguard" to its ruler, seemingly disappears from the land overnight.
SMG4, a screenplay writer for a theater and his friend, is asked by Princess Peach to go search for him alongside his brother Luigi, and to bring him back to her.
They find out that he has apparently been taken by pirates roaming the port, and they depart for his search in the seas on the Skybreaker vessel, guided by Captain Tari and her righthand Saiko Bichitaru.
During their voyage they encounter one of the most notorious crew of pirates that roams the waters of this sea: Captain SMG3 and his followers, on board of the Black Bomb vessel.
Forced to join their crew, a great adventure and destiny awaits them, between curses, magical beings, sea monsters and creatures, and a war between land and sea inhabitants.
QUICK ANNOUNCEMENT REGARDING THE PLOTLINE AND UPDATES
FIC/ART POLL
LINK TO THE AO3 FIC
DOODLES/COMICS/ART DESIGN ETC
-Introductive post to the AU
-Doodles 1
-Brewing Romance XOVER!
-Luigi Doll
-Saiko/Tari/Peach designs
-Coatless Three
-Four and Luigi Bi talk
-Assorted SMG34 doodles
-Inkopolis and SMG4 studies
-Dancing with your captain
-Four to the rescue!
-PDA couple SMG34
-Four in a Victorian dress
MAIN STORYLINE
-SMG4 meets the Mario Bros
-Four being an ass
-Fic: Prologue
FANART/FIC BY OTHERS
-First encounter (SMG34) by @lizaluvsthis
-Flirting with a blade to the neck by @lizaluvsthis
-KAR-KEN?! by @anonymousfudanshi
-Fighting side by side by @k1ra0nloose
-Pirates designs by @chaoticlad
-Tari design by @anonymousfudanshi
-Where do you think youre going mate by @merp0515
-Merchant Karen design by @chaoticlad
-Xover of aus meeting Normal Four by @lizaluvsthis
-Bi awakening SMG4 by @hamlos
-Smg3's ship by @marasiatheferret
-Interpretation 2.0 by @marasiatheferret
-Switch + Pirate by @hamlos
-SMG34 Pirate au + other aus doodles by @lizaluvsthis
-Bday gift for me :3-SMG34 suspenseful moment by @lizaluvsthis
ASKS
-Various trivia (Crew and Kidnapping of Mario)
-Story or fic?
-Folklore and such
-Do they speak pirate?
-Name of AU
-Mario Appearances
-Nintendo Mario and Pirate AU
-Main Timeline
-Where you can find the AU
-Romantic ships in AU and age info for some of the characters
-Does Meggy turn human?
-Oh hellos and pirate au
-Pirate outfits for Axol and Boopkins?
-Who wears eyepatches
-Four hurt?
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"He keeps pushing. And pushing.
And pushing and pushing and pushing and pushing."
Aaaaaaa!!! I had the honor of working with @melonoverlord for their fic When The World Stops Turning, a TPP 1920's Anastasia au! Please go read it, it's absolutely amazing and full of intrigue and delicious drama and there was clearly so much love, care and passion put into the whole fic. I'll be putting a link to it in the reblogs shortly!
IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A digital drawing entirely done in shades of red. Juno Steel is pressing his hands on the chest of Ramses O'Flaherty, who is bleeding out. Juno is drawn sobbing and wearing a blood-stained dress. The background is a stylized, ornately designed theater stage. It looms over the both of them and looks a bit like a cathedral. END ID.
#the penumbra podcast#tpp#juno steel#ramses o'flaherty#my art#when the world stops turning#tpp minibang 2023#blood tw#death tw
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