Archive of Our Own

When he wakes up to a splitting headache and sore limbs, he has instinctively promised to himself not to drink that much again. A promise he would not heed once he’s inebriated again, yes, but nonetheless needed to be said if only for the sake of his conscience. As the seconds tick by, snippets of what exactly had taken place return to him, reminding him that, one, he didn't drink a single drop yesterday since he’s on duty and two…

A groan - not from his mouth - prompts him to flinch almost too violently, hands scrambling to open air and calls for his sword. With a sword in hand, he looks for the threat. His gaze falls into the other occupant of his personal space with familiar red locks sprawled across the mattress

Ah, yes, he had the privilege to run into the infamous Dark knight hero of Mondstatds while said hero was pursuing a bounty that had also been under the Favonius knight's radar. Apparently the group of Abyssal mages had not only offended the knights, but also managed to get themselves to be noticed by the hero of Mondstadts.

Considering they've been kidnapping kids, it is a given for Diluc to appear with a blazing sword while donning the mask of a hero. He would be more surprised if he hadn't. And disappointed, maybe, since he had dropped hints after all, especially inside the young winery lord's tavern where he ushered in the loose lipped fellows.

What he had not predicted was the trap.

They found the kids first - suspicious but acceptable - bound and drugged on the entrance to their facility. A brief look was enough to tell that these are the newest children they had taken. Good, he exclaimed and asked the knights to get each child out of the premise as he checked the area.

Two steps in and came the muffled shriek. He glanced at the rest of the knights - who had perked up at attention to the sound - and waved them away, affirming that their concern should lie with the kidnapped children. Too many footsteps would only cause suspicion to be casted upon their position. His blade was called upon, the gleam on his Vision signifies caution as thin frost coated his blade.

Each step he took was deliberately light and slow with almost little to no sound. Abyss mages have brilliant hearing not dissimilar to a rabbit or a dog. And similarly shaped ears too if one wants to be nitpicky. The best way to deal with them is a clean cut before they know you’re there to raise their elemental shield.

Judging by the previous shriek, however, someone might already be engaged in a combat against these mages.

But who?

His men were the only team sent to investigate this matter and confront the culprits. Or had Jean contacted someone else? Doubtful, the acting grand master wouldn’t do that without proper protocol - that is, asking for his consent to allow for extra knights or other helping hands to aid his rescue attempt.

That would leave a certain young lord whose presence he might or might not have presumed to arrive some time later.

He’s early, huh?

Few chambers in and he finally saw the first sign of carnage: a burnt leyline branch coated with a thin coating of fluid. Hydro conjured water, he suspected, picking the branch up to examine closely. It wasn't special if it's not singed. To pierce through the natural Hydro barrier with a Pyro attack...how brute.

Another shriek echoed across the floor, clearer, followed by a muffled grunt. He moves toward the sound, blade's ready in his hand should anything tries to run pass.

It took him a few moments before he reached the inner chamber where a blur of red was blazing across the floor, leaving trails of fire in its wake. This would always be a sight, he whistled, taking note of the last few Abyss mages scampering away from the roaring flame. Takes a flame hot enough to melt iron for that feat to be achievable against a Pyro mage.

One unfortunate mage ran straight into him, fresh out of their barrier, trying to make a blind escape. He pierced them through the chest in a single clean thrust, flinging the body away in one swipe, murmuring a quiet prayer for the dead. Turning back to the scene of battle, he took an instinctive step back as a bird made out of pure flame ascended mere inches from his face.

And after the dazzling show, a deathly quiet moment falls over the chamber, leaving him to study the aftermath. There were no bodies, just remains. A dozen of them, suffering from burnt patches here and there. Amongst the rather gruesome sight was the Dark Knight Hero, dressed in black, face hidden underneath his cloak.

“Good afternoon, hero~” he greeted, approaching the culprit of destruction. Who waved nonchalantly at him, jabbing the claymore to the ground with a huff. "Fashionably late as always, as expected of the knights" came the comment he had predicted. A chuckle tumbled out of his lips, “But just in time to see mister hero here giving us a brilliant show, no?” he gestured at the room or the lack of its occupant. It earned him a snort and a wave of hand as if to dismiss him.

"Go back to Mondstadt, Kaeya, I can handle the rest"

His eyebrow rose at the remark, "Do you not want my company? At least for a little while?"

Diluc sighs, “There are no children here despite what little information we've gathered. I asked one of the mages and they coughed up how they were trying to transport them. Seems like this one is an outdated lead. Should’ve checked the 'informants', they might not be telling the truth" the answer came and it immediately rubbed him the wrong way.

There are children in the hideout, by the entrance - puffy-eyed from crying yet so quiet with this empty stare on each of their faces. “There arechildren, Diluc, by the entrance, did you--” he stopped, mind clicking together faster than his words, “...this is a trap...”

As if confirming his conclusion, a barrier was sprung upon the entrance to the chamber. He heard his name being called, a strong grip pulled at his arm and him returning the gesture, their Visions flashing in red and light blue. How nostalgic, he had thought. They rarely fight together now that they’ve gone in their own chosen path. But with how easy they tried to cover each other’s back, how…instinctive the movement had felt. No one could tell they had been separated for years.

And then…

….then what?

He closes his eye, a frown pulls at his lips. The rest of his recollection is blank; void of any images or words. Then, he woke up here, he supposes, in a room from the Favonius headquarters. With Mondstadt's beloved hero across in his personal space. These missing bits and pieces would definitely haunt him, he swears, but regardless of the situation, they seem unharmed.

Aside from the throbbing headache, obviously. Had their head been messed up with?

Bringing a hand to massage his temple, he notices two things: one, his ears aren’t where they’re supposed to be. And two, he hears heartbeat. That low, calming thump-thump that doesn't originate from his own body, which shouldn't be audible if it's not in erratic state. He turns his head to see across the room, to where Diluc is laid. Unharmed, he thinks, relieved. The calming beat of the other’s heart soothes his worry.

How is he able to hear that?

His hand shoots upward, expecting locks of hair when he grazes something soft. And it twitches to his touch. And he can feel it twitches as it does. His other hand is quick to join, reaching to find another fuzz atop his head.

Are...he feels the new appendages, following the sharp slope, ending in pointed tip...are these cat ears? They are soft to the touch and as he runs his fingers back and forth, he feels less and less stiff and more and more mushy. Something is rumbling from his throat, making a sound that might be similar to a purr.

He halts his hands.

It is a purr.

His eye darts immediately to Diluc, checking if the other had also suffered the same fate as he does. Oh, he thinks as his gaze meets the fuzzy softer red ears jutting up among the red mane. Those...are not a cat's ears.

Red eyes snap open and the hero's upper body shoots up, hands outstretched as if to call his beloved weapon. The claymore faithfully heeds his call, appearing out of thin air to his grip as his gaze is flung around the room. Those soft red ears flick around at attention, following the caution their owner has shown. Red orbs fixate with his own, a frown is pulled at Diluc’s lips as he opens them,

“Is something funny, sir Kae--”

The grin grows wider as he watches the other sputter something incomprehensible before clamping his lips together. Realization slowly dawns on his face as a hesitant hand cards through red locks and finds the beginning of one long fuzzy appendage. It's priceless to see how Diluc's eyes widen with horror and his lips stiffen as he carefully pulls at his newly replaced ear.

There are definitely questions swimming in those red orbs, aborted ones at the tip of his tongue. He might share a question or two, but what's more important is perhaps how to redo whatever's spell they've been inflicted with.

As if answering their shared wish for once, the door at the far side flings open. A familiar face steps in, takes one long look at them both and sighs.

"Alright," the chief alchemist says, stepping aside from the doorway to reveal a familiar mage who greets them with a playful wave and a wink, "...there's a lot of explanation to go through"

"It is indeed a curse," Albedo states firmly, tapping his finger against the table, "...or poison, either works. Which is quite fascinating as it is able to semi-permanently change the outward appearance of certain organs instead of changing everything. Controlled effects are more...daunting than a general one to put it simply. Almost like an alchemical process" he continues, stopping to write another note on the growing stack of sentences on the paper he's been studying.

Beside him, Lisa makes an agreeing hum, "Especially adorable replacements like those require a complex spell or a mixture of both. Mages usually use inanimate objects for transformation spells, rarely living beings - it’s unethical. But that would mean, a spell for specified effect requires repetitive experiment, trial and errors, or extra materials as if creating a concoction" she approaches him, a gloved finger flicking at his pointed ear. It twitches and he snickers when she coos softly.

He turns his attention back to their conversation, presenting the speculation that's been heavy in his mind, "Is that why they kidnapped children?" A grim thought, yes, but a valid one. What else do they need human children for?

Lisa averts her eyes as she nods, "Unfortunately…" she reaffirms, the lone word thick in her tongue.

A quiet moment lingers after her answer, before the worrying question is voiced out, "Are the children alright?"

The chief alchemist, thankfully, gives a quick, concise nod and a simple, "They're relatively unharmed and recovering, though some might have several...complications, I've checked them over enough to know those aren't longer lasting"

Well that's good to hear at least.

"Can you undo the effect?" Diluc immediately chides in, tapping his foot. Straight to the point after confirming the kids' safety as expected. It is almost comical, however, to see his impatience being expressed with a pair of slightly bent fuzzy ears and tapping feet, but he knows better than to tease now. They both share a similar curse after all. Barbatos knows his tail - Sevens, he has a tail - must be flicking back and forth in wordless anxiety.

There is a pause; one long, suspicious pause before Lisa says, mutters under her breath, "Yes, perhaps" followed by an unnerving smirk, "...I understood the basic spell, but the potion to make for the reverse effect might take quite a while to create without any clue as to what exactly the curse has done to your...body” she hesitates, flicking her gaze toward the shorter male. Albedo hums thoughtfully, placing his quill down gently, “Crafting a simple potion to reverse the effect would be easy. The hardest part would be to ensure there is no adverse complication to your body after consumption”

Side effects, he ponders, depending on what kind, he might be okay with anything. Fever is fine, sore throat will be okay, too, or permanent irreparable damage, maybe,

“What do you need to know?” he asks, finally, leaning forward to face the two helpers from the knights. If they know the symptoms, they would understand what kind of spell had befallen him and Diluc, preventing unneeded side effects.

Teal colored eyes shine briefly, excitement and curiosity glistening on their glassy surface as he retrieves another new sheet of paper, “Good of you to offer, sir Alberich, now if you would describe--”

This will be a long day, won’t it?

The more time they spend inside the confined room, answering the chief alchemist prying question one by one, the more he feels...strange. Perhaps it is the light from the room or the smell of Lisa's new perfume - is that dandelion? - or the l o u d tap-tapping that Diluc makes with--

"Sir Alberich, should I repeat the question? Or do you want to spend the evening observing sir Ragnvindr's lower half?"

"Wha-"

Albedo is staring up at him, eyebrows raised, an inquiry in his gaze. The other occupants in the room have turned their attention toward him; one curious, the other exasperated. He licks his lips and opens his mouth, "Well, they are indeed fine distractions" he says, poking at the red head's side.

He hadn’t expected such a simple, harmless gesture would lead to the loud clang of a chair falling and him being pulled by the collar. To meet a pair of dilated red orbs glaring with his own single visible eye and a quivering warning of, "Take this seriously, Sir Kaeya"

A scent of wine and burnt sandalwood invades his nostrils. He flinches with each intake of breath, not understanding the tremor running down his spine or the ball of warmth forming beneath his lower abdomen. The need to nuzzle against the fist currently curled on his collar is strangely present - something he immediately shoves to the back of his mind as he smirks.

He’s taunting a half asleep lion, he knows, yet he couldn’t help the word escaping his lips next, “I’m just being honest," he says, "...this closeness doesn't help, Sir Diluc" the rest, he whispers

Diluc is quiet for a moment, eyes wide. His hand is trembling as it grips his collar. The scent grows stronger with each intake of breath he takes. Slowly, gradually, his gaze fuzzes over, a fog creeping into his sight from the corners. A muttered curse slips out of a pair of shaky lips as he feels himself being released and grabbed by a strong hand on the wrist.

“I’m leaving” the redhead declares as he drags Kaeya to the door.

“While looking like that?” the chief alchemist interrupts calmly.

Diluc stops and pulls at his cloak to cover his own new ears. He still can see the bump over the hood, showing where they are pressed uncomfortably against the head, but other than that, nothing is suspicious. Before Kaeya can ask 'What about good little ol' me?', a coat has been silently offered toward him. One that smells even more like Diluc from the lingering alcoholic wine smell to the natural woody scent that is followed by a hint of burning.

He might have been zoning out a little too long for Diluc to grumpily throw the coat over his head, robbing him of his sight and snapping his senses back. "Must you always act like a child?" The young master says as the fabric is adjusted until he can see a pair of red orbs concentrating on his neck. Pulling the coat's sleeves to form a knot over his neck, Diluc huffs and turns toward the door.

The tuft of light red fur over on his pants makes him blink, a mischievous thought involuntarily surfacing. His hand only manages a halfway raise when Diluc glares at him over his shoulder, "Whatever you're thinking of Kaeya, if you act upon it I will cut your own"

He shows both his open palms as a gesture of peace. One way or another he will grab that tail, but until then…he can act good, yes.

Placated, the young master returns to the knob and opens the door, sparing a glance at him; a silent invitation to come with. Before he steps over the doorway and out of the room. He sighs and follows suit when a gentle hand catches his wrist, prompting him to peer over toward narrowed green eyes. “Here,” Lisa says, offering two small vials of rolling light purple liquid, “...it’s the general reverse potion to transformation spell. I was against this, but our chief alchemist insisted. It might work, true, but just in case, don't drink it at all”

“Why?” blurts out of his mouth before he could stop it. Lisa rarely gives warning freely unless when it comes to her precious library’s books. If it’s a new potion you requested personally, she would concoct one for you, slip it to your fingers and whispers, “No refund” to your ears while wearing a mischievous smile.

For her to give a warning up front, the potion sure seems even less appealing than eating a diluted slime.

She glances briefly at the door, eyebrows knitted together in worry, “You both bear more traits of those animals than what visibly changed in your person,” she whispers, grabbing at his shoulder to tug him closer as she voices the next sentence in a quieter tone, "...don't do anything too reckless, Alberich, you hear me"

A warning; concerned and threatening all at once. The dandelion scent is really clear now, thick in the air lingering by the mage's ears and neck. Smirking, he taps her over the smaller hand on his shoulder, and says, "I will most definitely not let his scent stick to me at the very least, miss Lisa"

Lisa feigns an offended gasp, flicking his nose.

"Remember what I've said though, Kaeya, it wouldn't do if I have to lose what little entertainment I could find between the stiff-faced knights" she says as she pulls away, still smiling despite the worried crease between her eyebrows.

Slipping the tiny vials in his hand into his pocket, he shuffles out of the room, closing the door behind his back as he meets the other’s eyes and grins sheepishly. “What took you so long?” is snapped at him as they both begin their path across the hallway toward the entrance. They're probably making a show, what's with his blue furred tail swaying occasionally from his posterior, or the puff of fluff stationed on Diluc's behind.

Some nosy knights ask him questions about the new additional appendages and he answers as best as he could - a costume party for the kids, it's a secret, please don't tell them, thank you, it’s a good toy, right? - while Diluc contributes by intimidating enough new recruits with a glare.

They reach the main door within minutes, pushing it open forcefully. The commotion attracts people, obviously. He intends to simply smile and wave but Diluc wastes no time on grabbing him by the back of his shirt before he's thrown over the shoulder like a big bag of flour. The winery owner doesn't even stop to let him react properly

"HEY!" He yelps; an appropriate reaction, obviously, "...as much as I would love to be swooped by the feet, I do not think this is how a princess wants to be carried by her knight"

"You are most certainly not a princess..." Diluc hisses and he catches a glimpse of red on the pale cheeks, "...and I'd rather not risk you straying away like an unruly house cat". Is it truly a blush? Kinda hard to tell when you're being carried upside down, but he's quite certain it is. That scent mixture of wine and sandalwood grows stronger with each minute they pass. He could feel how the body beneath him breathes without a fixed rhythm.

His ears twitch beneath the fabric. It's muffled, but he thinks he can hear the soft pants that Diluc emits; exerted with much effort. That's worrying. It's rare to see the young master getting tired. And if he does, maybe this curse had affected his stamina?

"We're here!" Announces Diluc.

"Where-Gah!"

Stone pavement is hard; a universally accepted fact that he did not need to slam his body against to find out. "Thank you for the ride, sir Diluc, I gave it a nine just because you flopped the ending" he mutters, rubbing his poor sore side which had collided with the ground first.

He sees Diluc roll his eyes before single-handedly helping him up with one tug. Ah, to reap the benefit of swinging that unnecessarily heavy claymore…

They enter Angel's Share without much fuss.

There aren't as many patrons as night usually would bring, leaving their witnesses as only the current bartender and a few sober customers nursing their first glasses of alcohol. Who wisely decide against making smart comments about their new appearances. He acknowledges some genial greeting with a friendly smile as Diluc drags him to the counter and says, "Wolfhook's supply receipt number 4" to the man behind the table.

Charles quickly retrieves a thin sheet of paper from under the counter and still with that customary smile, places it on the top. With a nod - of gratitude - the winery lord swipes it off the counter and skims over the content. Sighing, Diluc carefully folds the paper as red flashes from his Vision and what's left of its ashes dissipate to the air.

“Him, huh? Guess I wouldn’t have to take my sweet time to cosy him up..” he hums, taking the empty seat by the counter, eye widening at the glass of light wine shoved to his front, “...ah, yes, thank you Charls, you always know what I need at moment’s notice” he coos, taking the glass to his mouth.

And kisses a gloved hand instead.

The glare he receives can probably burn a lesser man. He raises an eyebrow instead, meeting those red orbs with a quirked smirk, “You know I’m off duty, sir Diluc” he sings-songs to the thick leather. “And you know why we shouldn’t drink” growls Diluc, prying his fingers away from his beloved drink to set it back to the wooden top.

Though he complies, his lips are still set into a pout.

“What was Lisa telling you?”

He snorts, of course the redhead could hear his exchange, muffled as they were. These ears aren’t just cosmetics after all, he could hear every cling and clank of plates and glasses all across the tavern and tuning them out actually takes effort. “She gave me potions,” he slips his hand into the pocket, pulling out the tiny bottles, “...the general ones, unspecified, might have side effects” he adds quickly when one is taken and scrutinized under a sharp red gaze.

Observing his own portion on his palm, he watches the light reflected on its surface. The purple liquid seems harmless enough, similar in appearance to the electro potion, not quite thick, yet viscous enough not to be called watery. Shaking it slightly, he watches the liquid sloshes inside its tiny confinement, shimmering. Seems innocent enough, he decides.

A tempting thought passes over his head; a risky move, yes, but perhaps necessary. His fingers play with the cork on the vial, considering what might and might not happen. The worst would be a complete transformation - or death by poisoning, yes, that’s probably...bad too - and the best would be complete reversal of this, frankly speaking, lovely transformation.

"Hey, Luc, what if I--" he starts, turning his head to find an empty vial and hears a visible swallow. His jaw drops open, "...drink the potion…" he trails off, both amazed and horrified that Diluc has drunk that without hesitation.

The empty vial is placed gently on the counter, "Better than doing nothing" Diluc mutters. True, he nods in agreement, “But you told me off from drinking wine though” he says, sulking. This remark is replied with a soft smack against the back of his head - or as soft as Diluc can be. His unused vial is slipped back into the pocket; better to keep one of them not touching that vial.

As the control subject he could hear the chief alchemist exclaims that in his indifferent tone.

For a moment, they wait. Two glasses of water - no alcohol - are offered and he begrudgingly sips at the plain water to quench his parching throat. They fall into a quiet, aimless conversation at first before delving into discussion.

"More...suppliers have been providing less than decent products lately. The creativity and audacity they've been showing have been quite detrimental to the circulation"

He takes a deliberately long sip, like wine. Even if it's not wine, he will definitely pretend it is out of spite, "So you intend to check them one by one? Want me to find the root? Perhaps a bigger company had been trying to sabotage your supply lines? I could definitely pull an information or two out of the weakly resolved ones"

Diluc grimaces, that method would always rile him up and Kaeya would always utilize it to pull a reaction out of the usually calm young master. Eventually, he sighs, "Some are still honest, fortunately, and I hope they have no intention of going…" Diluc pauses, eyes widening as he abruptly stands up. The chair falls behind him, cluttering to the wooden floor. It is loud enough to silence the whole bar as eyes are turned on the winery lord, standing before the bar.

"What..." Kaeya scarcely hears the shaky whispers as a pair of red eyes gaze toward him for a fleeting second before Diluc storms off up the stairs and into the nearest empty room available. The door closes with a loud Bang as the ensuing silent engulfs all manners of voices. He blinks, confusion suffusing into his mind as he forces an amiable smile and tells the rest of the bar that the young master upsets his stomach.

From lunch, he adds smoothly when someone points out they're only drinking water.

Charles gives him an anxious frown, briefly casting his gaze upward, to where his young master had disappeared into. The very least Kaeya can do is to lean over the counter and tap the man by the shoulder to catch his attention and whispers, "I'll handle it" reassuringly. The bartender mouths a 'please' before returning to the task at hand - wiping the numerous glasses.

With curious questions being thrown at him, he pushes through the crowd, - warning off someone from trying to tug his tail - letting out 'excuse me' after 'pardon me' to be let through. The amount of customers in Angel's share at night has always been staggering, filling up as the moon moves higher in the sky. And they all had parted like scurrying mice against a bigger adversary when Diluc bulldozed through the crowds. Must be nice to be capable of wordlessly commanding people to part for you.

It takes him less time to climb the stairs than to shift through the crowds. Soon enough, he has reached the door and turns the knob, "Sir Diluc," he calls out, pushing the door open, "...what hap--"

The door stays shut. A muffled grunt that suspiciously sounds like a petulant, “Go away” is spoken through the door.

He blinks at the plain frame, a fond smile tugs at his lips as a moment from the past passes over behind his eyelid. There were days when he shut himself in his room, feeling too overwhelmed with how bright and positive everything was. How he didn't have to go hungry without having to eat questionable food. How Diluc's smile, as bright as the sun above, was beckoning him to play. Or the gentle hand of his late adopted father taking him everywhere as he was introduced as his son.

Ah, he remembers Diluc stubbornly knocking at his door, pleading for him to come out. The promise he would make could be as silly as allowing Kaeya two cookies - they can only have one due to how sugary it was and master Crepus was strict - or as sweet as making him TWO flower crowns - and Barbatos knows Diluc had the patience of a hungry man in a feast.

Perhaps it is time to return the favor…

"Oh, whatever shall I do? His highness wouldn't let me in his royal chamber" he croons, dramatically throwing a hand over his forehead. Yes, sure, Diluc can't see him, but he could definitely hear the exaggerated scuffle of feet and the mirthful tone he adopts as he recites more cheesy dialogue to the door. "How can I comfort him then? This humble servant has no golden voice to sing nor fancy letter to slip under the door" a tiny snicker can be heard from one near drunk patron seated with a nervous knight on the second floor. In return, he places a pointer finger on his lips, asking for their silence.

He clears his throat, raps his knuckle against the door and speaks in a much, much lower voice, "Or...is his highness seeking comfort of a maiden? Desiring one fair beauty to warm his bed?" he pauses, waits, "...do you wish for red lips against your length as dainty fingers hesitantly wrap around yours?" his tone dips even deeper, sultry.

From the corner of his sight, he can see the knight's eyes widening while the drunk whistles. Ever the entertainer, he licks his lips and continues, "Perhaps my lord wants a beautiful face to stain with his blessings or plump thighs to wrap around his waists as he--"

His voice is cut off as a hand roughly grabs one of his shoulders. Before he can register its deathly grip on him, he is pulled forward, feet stumbling into the room as his back meets the door with a slam, closing it behind him. There are multiple questions inside his head to ask, to know what had happened. Yet a pair of lips have hungrily captured his own; tongue plunging into his parted lips to plunder every spot it could reach inside his mouth.

The scent returns to his nose ten folds, saturating each breath he takes until he could smell nothing but Diluc. It is almost dizzying, he thinks dazedly, lips moving together in familiarity they both had always shared despite their past pain. They only part when Diluc does, leaving a lingering warmth on his lips, one that he wants to return. But he swallows his needs in favor of checking the well-being of his partner.

"Luc?" He starts, pressing a palm on the other's cheek and promptly flinches away upon contact. Pyro Vision holder is naturally warm, sure, but this is beyond normal. His own Vision lights up as both his palms are placed upon the other's cheeks in an attempt to cool him.

It feels like he's melting, the point of contact where his fingers are touching bare skin tingles. The heat doesn't relent nor succumb to his effort, it starts to burn even, sending his senses into haywire. Is he cold? Is he hot? He couldn't tell as his focus narrows into his fingers on pale cheeks.

He has lost track of time when Diluc makes a noise between a grunt and a frustrated growl before their contact breaks as Diluc leans in. Teeth grazes over the exposed skin between the dip of his chest as fingers tug at the knot on his neck. The makeshift hood over his head falls down with a heavy thud and the pair of fuzzy ears perk up in relief at their newfound freedom.

Too warm lips trailing up his chest to collarbone, sharp teeth leaving ring-shaped marks across tanned skin. They send pleasant tingles up to the tip of his ears. He feels his ears twitch, pushing little gasps out of his pursed lips.

A gloved hand finds his collar, tugging, impatient fingers slipping beneath the clasp to click it open. When it resists, he hears a growl and a crack, followed by wet tongue on the column of his throat, promising a mark. Or three, he muses hazily, revelling the warmth sensation he's being spoiled with. Scattered nibbles are planted on his skin, soft red hair tickling his chin. His hands awkwardly hovering behind Diluc, twitching occasionally both from needing something to grab onto and worry that he shouldn't disturb the red haired man.

Hungry fingers roaming across his shirt, groping at anything it could feel through his fabric before reaching the opening on his chest. "Too much...layers…" he hears Diluc mutter to the corner between his neck and shoulder. Warning bell rings in his head when he feels leather scraping over the area below his shirt. He manages a stuttered, “W-wait, Luc--” before a loud, deafening 'R I P' echoes across the room. Instinctively, he squeaks, fingers gripping onto soft red locks as Diluc dives in, giving one last nip to his lower jaw and making his way down.

"That’s my favorite shirt...” he pouts, gasps when his words are met with a bite near a soft bud. His back arches involuntarily, seeking more. His hands are gripping tight to pull Diluc down, wishing, hoping the other gets the hint for a repeat gesture. A graze of tongue and a knee to part his quivering thighs finally draws a moan out of his throat. Blindly he cards through red locks, finding the fluffy base of one ear and smoothing a finger up the slope.

Diluc bites him in retaliation, framing a pink bud with teeth marks before lapping at the hardening peak.

A part - a small one - of his brain goes through what little information they have about the curse. They have more animal traits… his brain thinks hazily, divided by the attention that surprisingly sharp tongue is currently providing him with. He tries to concentrate to think of a logical reason behind this sudden change in behaviour.

The vial, his mind answers as the knee grinds between his legs - a little touch against his half hard member - flinging the rest of that train of thought out of his head. He grips harder at the furry ear between his fingers as revenge. Diluc pulls away, ears flicking to break his grip. His hands slide down to the nape, tangle among the red strands of hair before settling on the heated skin beneath. Red eyes are fixated on his own, the dark red pupils nearly covering every inch of that bright red orbs.

White teeth bite down against black leather - he stares, unblinking, as Diluc rips one hand out of the gloves, throwing it carelessly somewhere among the clutter in the room. The gesture is repeated and he can't look away, transfixed with the teeth and the contrast of colors between the two objects. The hand moves, catches his chin as his twined fingers tug Diluc down and their lips crash, slotted together naturally like missing puzzle pieces.

Like wine, his scarce thought supplies him, the taste on his tongue is almost identical to his cherished drink. Can he get drunk through this, he wonders as those slightly chapped lips press harder, drinking his moans and gasps, seeking for more. Warm fingers find a nipple, pinching the pink bud and flicking it back and forth until it stands at attention, twitching even from the stagnant lukewarm air in the room.

His legs are trembling, hips grinding down to seek more stimulation to his poor, confined cock. Diluc stays stalwart, the knee unmoving, even as he tries to rub himself against the thigh. He lets out a frustrated whine, bearing down even harder to the strong thigh and finds two arms taking hold of his waists, restraining him.

"Kaeya..." his partner murmurs to his lips - he shudders - and the knee lifts further up until he's seated on a strong thigh, feet hovering above the floor. Archons, how can he-- "Why are you so stupidly strong?" he babbles, chuckling lightly at how Diluc's eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Shaking his head, he decides to use this perfectly good thigh instead as he pleases.

With his cock rubbing against the strong muscled limb, he chases after his peak. Fingers tangling once more through red locks as he pulls Diluc closer, needing the warmth from the other. Scent of wine and Sandalwood, he thinks dazedly, feeling his partner closing in, nuzzling the junction of his neck with his chin as he murmurs an incomprehensible word. In return, his hips move erratically, desperate as the scent engulfs his own, warmth buzz grows into heat beneath his navel down between his thighs.

"C-close…" stutters out of his lips involuntary.

The knee disappears two seconds after - he whimpers at the sudden loss - leaving his shaky legs to support his weight alone for a second. A brief second in which Diluc effortlessly moves him until his face is pressed against the door, hands scrabbling in panic at the grainy surface. One hand tugs at the waistline of his pants, another seeks up his stomach, tracing the scattered marks on his chest. There is no hesitation in Diluc's movement as he tugs his pants down, ignorant to the ripping sound his movement causes. The sudden exposure befuddled his head. Arousal creeping up his spine to send heat all across his skin.

It’s disorienting to feel how fast everything is going.

"Your tail…" Diluc says.

He opens his mouth to ask, to know what about it that had caught the redhead's interest when he lets out a loud mewl to the door instead, nails scratching desperately. He peers behind, to see what Diluc has--

"Mnnghya?"

Fingers are wrapped around the base of his tail and with every touch, every squeeze, he feels himself spills more and more until he rubs himself at the door out of desperation, begging pathetically for anything to push him over the edge.

His tail twitches on the other's grasp, quivering as it coils around Diluc's wrist, not wanting to let go, the gesture comes naturally despite being a new addition to his limbs. A warm palm paws at his clothed erection and the heat finally bursts from his abdomen, down into his cock as he comes with a keen cry. Dark spots overtake his sight as he rides the rest of his peak until the heat subsides if only for a little.

Panting, he vaguely recognizes the unassuming door before his eye as he returns from the pleasant high an orgasm would take him into. Conscience is quick to remind him in alarm about the bar patrons behind said door. About how he had screamed in ecstasy into the thin barrier between their debauched act and the rest of the world.

He parts his lips, words swimming inside his head to find anything that could remind the other of their situation. Blush creeps into his cheeks as he steels himself to finally speak when Diluc pulls at his tail. What's left of his shame is quickly thrown out of the metaphorical window as he moans. His nerves are still tingling, sensitive to any kind of touch; the hand on his crotch doesn't seem to get the memo as it drags across his spent, uncaring of the sticky white stain on his pants.

"L-luc, no, too, hhahh, t-too mhuch--"

Pawing, scratching, he tries to pry the hand away yet it holds tighter, tracing the outline of the length underneath. His mind fuzzes, feet skid and back arches slightly to follow the forceful tug on his tail. Warm body quickly presses against him as an evident hardness pokes briefly between his cheeks. He bites his lip when a moan threatens to leap out of his mouth, scraping against the grainy wood texture in a desperate attempt to hold himself together.

A pair of lips find his ear, nipping at their pointed tip as his name is whispered in a shuddered moan.

“Kaeya…My Kaeya...”

Every single nerve on his body feels like it’s lit on a burning pyre. The possessiveness in his tone; rare and covetous, sounds delicious to his ears. How unfair of his partner to do so. Every time Diluc speaks his name in that unadulterated tone: deep, full of lust and pure want, he couldn’t - wouldn’t - say no. Coupled that with his declaration of possession, of selfishness so few and far in between now that they’ve reached adulthood.

Rough hands - when did Diluc shift away from the front?- pull at his cheeks to reveal a furled hole. He can feel it winking slightly, wishing for something to slip between them for him to clench at. Out of pure instinct, his tail swings down, nestles between his open cheeks to hide - an intuitive protective gesture he couldn’t blame himself for doing. Diluc snarls, tugging at the furry appendage with more strength than it needs.

He yowls when the sudden jolt of pain travels from the base of his spine to the tip of his ears. The tail stiffens upward, slapping something on its way - which probably somewhere on Diluc’s face if the comical ‘oof’ is anything to judge it with - as a dry finger brushes over his entrance. His teeth clench together at the promise of pain, pushing his hips back to encourage his partner.

To his dismay, the finger moves away, caressing the side of his thighs to his front and slips into his pants to--

“This will do...”

Is murmured before he hears a ‘pop’ of a cork being pried open. Hesitantly, he starts to turn his head and promptly slumps back to the door when a warm, wet finger wriggles into his hole. Deliberate strokes by the rim to slick the entrance, before deepening it with each shallow thrust after shallow thrust. The slow, gradual ministration feels almost like a massage, so uncharacteristic of Diluc’s usual quick prep works.

With each stroke into his wall, his muscles loosen, legs gradually turn into mush until he starts to slip. Strong arm is quick to hold him upright when he gives in, fingers slipping out from his hole - and oh the throbbing emptiness that follows - as another wraps itself around his waist and with nonchalant ease, he has already been lifted to the air.

His back meets the soft plush of bed in a blink, bounces a bit from the impact and settles into a rather comfortable sprawl over the bed. Its legs creak in protest when another weight is added and he barely has enough time to adjust to his new position when the very same arms had taken hold of his knees and spread his legs. There goes another squeal of embarrassment for the day.

It takes no time for the front of his pants to share the same fate with the backside and he watches the tatters of dark blue in resigned exasperation. The rest of his clothes follow soon after. His free cock, however, takes to proudly standing upright, freshly invigorated after the stimulation. Judging by how Diluc actually takes time to stare at it, the sight must’ve pleased him. So he bucks his hips once, swipes a tongue over his lips and takes each one of his plush cheeks by the hand.

And pulls.

“What are you waiting for?” he asks cheekily.

There is one beat of silence that he could even feel as his partner processes the image before him. He can feel his tail spirals up his thighs, coiling around the circumference as its tip flick lazily. The grip on his knees tighten before they leave and a few seconds later, he has a pair of lust hazed red eyes drilling holes into his lone blue. Hard cock kisses his rim; he can feel its drooling head on the twitching ring of muscles.

Another beat.

And it slips in, pushes through his warm passage.

In contrast to the previous gentle care he’s shown, Diluc wastes no time to plunge deeper, not stopping until hips meet with the meat of his cheeks. There’s a slight pain which always comes from the first penetration and his inner walls convulsing furiously to adapt, to take in the shape and size. He takes a stuttered breath, muttering a “Slow down, dear Luc...” when he feels Diluc tests with a shallow thrust.

It might have been too long since he had someone in him, the uncomfortable feeling doesn't go away as easily. He closes his eye, concentrating in calming his breath, relaxing every muscle he has and breathes in the now all-too-familiar scent.

Inhales. Exhales.

Calm down.

His eye opens to the sight of Diluc nuzzling his knee gently with his chin, shifting to give it a kiss. The pair of long ears is perked toward him, focused and attentive for his minute reaction. Every off rhythm inhales, every squeeze from his walls, and each of the twitch of his ears. Perhaps it is reinforced by natural instinct, he muses, but it is endearing nonetheless and he can't help but chuckles a bit.

Diluc rarely voices out his affection or reassurance, choosing to show it in gentler touch or worried glances. His words are honest, bluntly so to the point it might not be as reassuring as it is intended to be. And Diluc knows this very well; courtly manner was a lesson his father had hammered down into his skull.

Words are a weapon; a weapon he's excellent at wielding and Diluc often refuses to use.

“Alright,” he breathes, feeling the cock inside him twitch at his word, “...mngh, you’re free to move now” he brings his hand up to cradle the other’s pale cheek, caresses a cheekbone with his thumb.

A small peck is left to the palm of his hand and move Diluc does.

Slow, gradual pace at first; a measured pull out and an undemanding thrust in. It almost feels torturous to his loosening walls when the hunger finally builds up in one corner of his lower abdomen, seeking for anything to keep him full. He twines his legs behind the other’s nape, pushing demandingly when Diluc keeps the sluggish pace. As if his partner wants him to feel every inch of his shaft, to know intimately of its shape molded into his walls.

“I said you can move, sir Diluc~” he purrs, pinching at a pale cheek, stretching the swollen lips to one side.

Diluc huffs, fixes his hold on his knees and hooks them further up his shoulders. “As you wish, princess...” his partner says, a small smirk graces his pretty face and…

…

Something akin to a high-pitched moan might have started the streams of ‘Ahs’ and ‘Ohs’ out of his lips. It’s nothing like the leisured pace he had assumed before, dragging every stimulation out until he demands more. He doesn’t even have enough time to register the cock going in and out of him until it does the opposite, cruelly piercing through his walls until it softens and pliant to the intrusion. His hands shoot back to the sheet, gripping at it for dear life until his knuckles turn pale.

If he lets go, will he fall?

Diluc makes a noise between a grunt and a snarl, changing his angle slightly as he thrust in next. An obscene mewl sputters out of him along with a buck from his hips. The cockhead has grazed over something - prostate, most likely, a part of his brain somehow manages to answer him - and with the next snap of hips, it rams straight into the spot, sending electric-like jolts across his body.

Droplets of precum have started to gather into pools on his stomach, milky white against tan. He stares, unseeing as it drools even more when the nerves’ bundle is struck again. And again. And again until his sight darkens and his lips can’t stop screaming his partner’s name like a zealous prayer.

If the drag of hot throbbing flesh against his prostate as he comes - spurting white to his chest and stomach - is cruel. How Diluc ignores the fact that normal people might have a refractory period is even crueler. He can only gasp and whimper, feeling overwhelmed by the stimulation which has started to hurt now, as the hard cock continues to jackhammer its way into his soft passage.

With one final thrust, thankfully, hot white seeds quickly flood his inside, sloshing within the accepting passage. It’s near boiling - curse you, Pyro Vision - but he’d gladly endure that, if it means watching the stiff lines on Diluc’s face crumbles into nothing as pure pleasure takes over. Full, he thinks fondly, feeling every jet of cum pumps into him.

When it stops, he pats his lower stomach, and smiles, “Thank you for the meal” he chirps, expecting the other to pull out.

Diluc doesn’t pull out.

“Uh, Luc...” his smile falters as he gulps, not knowing how to ask for someone to get their dick out of him. Logically, they would after they finished, right?

Diluc doesn’t pull out, seemingly content within his warmth.

...He just realized that said dick is still hard.

“Diluc...” he calls once more, hesitantly wiggling his hips to free himself. The movement causes the hard length to graze at his pleasing spot and his throat produces a moan in return. It seems to snap Diluc back from whatever trance he’s in, blinking rapidly as if to adjust his sight. When their gaze meets, his partner dives in, placing a kiss at the corner of his mouth, nips and breathes a hoarse, “I’m sorry, Kae...” to his skin.

Sorry for what? He questions wordlessly.

The first thrust answers that for him.

The next has him flabbergasted as his inner wall is rammed against. Panic quickly settles in as he whines, teetering between the line of this being pleasing or too much. Shouldn’t this hurt? What’s left of his logic asks. Shouldn’t this be too much? He asks again to the warm heat forming under his belly once more.

It’s warm, so warm, he can feel Diluc’s fingers printing a mark on each of his thighs. Is this still because of the Pyro Vision? The temperature increases, growing warmer, too warm, what is wrong with his body--

“Ahhh...” his lips part, eye growing wide as the ball of heat bursts inside him, shifting, changing something he couldn’t quite tell. It rearranges his organs, pushing a few up, cramming it to his belly. The process is painless - surprisingly - and when it’s done he stares in bafflement at the lower abdomen, curious yet afraid of what he might find if someone would cut him open right now.

Diluc has stopped to stare at him with worry in his eyes, his hands are trembling, as if he’s holding himself together by a thin thread. He opens his mouth to comfort the other, to let him know he’s alright when a shudder runs throughout his body.

That’s...he thinks slowly, that’s slick.

Then the hunger claws at him with vengeance. His passage pulsates with needs, greedily sucking in the cock inside him like a starved man. He needs that. He wants that. He has to have that hard, virile cock stuffing him until he’s well-bred--

His mind reels, blinking at the sudden passing thought, “What--” he scrolls through every point of event which has led them here until he finds one; one single unknown that he had thoughtlessly allowed, “...Luc, what...what lube did you use--” his words are cut off when he turns his head to the floor by the door.

An empty tiny vial with a few droplets of purple liquid staining its clear surface rests innocently on the floor.

Lisa hadn’t exactly instructed another way to ingest that potion, had she?

He should’ve known that it was not a simple curse. To be able to twist his conscience to the point of snapping, it is indeed the first he had ever suffered an effect which doesn’t involve anything that would murder him in numbered days. That would be much more preferable than whatever this is. The vile potion - he should’ve known when both the librarian and that curious alchemist are involved - didn’t help either, flushing out the transformation effects until that need to pin Kaeya to the floor is more than just that: a simple need that he could suppress.

Yet these thoughts are far from his mind as he drives himself further into the pliant body beneath him, drawing out mewl after moan as many as he could from the hungry kitten. The sudden change in both behavior and body should be concerning, but with half of his mind being reduced into nothing but a command to breed, he’s fortunate to be able to restrain himself.

It certainly doesn’t help that Kaeya is drenched, slicked with both his cum and something else. Not as viscous as his spent, but thick enough not to be mistaken for water. And it coats the cavalry captain’s wall, spills over his rim whenever he thrusts in, providing the room with that vulgar squelching sound each time their hips meet.

A blue furred tail wraps itself around one tanned thigh, caressing his waist every time he bucks his hips, sending whatever coherency careening out of Kaeya’s lips in incomprehensible moans. Peering upward, he finds flushed skin and cheeks, a crystal blue eye, half-lidded and unfocused is peering at him. White tipped blue ears perk with each ram, twitching when he pulls out only to meet with resistance, the fleshy wall clinging into him as Kaeya actually whines for him to stay.

So he does. Until one deeper thrust where he pushes further, longing to get deeper into the addicting heat that Kaeya is nearly folded in half. His tip meets a resistance. Something akin to the ring of muscles currently gripping at his shaft. It is closed, however, like a gate; a door into...something hidden beneath.

Kaeya makes a keening sound when he drags his tip over this new finding, nails digging even further into the mattress.

He ponders this for a moment, before deciding to test it out.

Pulling out - and earning himself a whiny, “No, Luc, stay...” - takes more than resisting his own desire when the hole he was in refuses to let him go. It is, however, easier to flip Kaeya into his stomach. The now half-cat obeys him with a purr, automatically arching his back and rising his rear end without hesitation, presenting him with the perfect position. The tail does not even try to conceal himself anymore, content to sway back and forth in a hypnotic manner; sedated.

Plunging back into that heat is smoother than he thought it would, Kaeya remembers his shape, squeezing him as he goes deeper. Deep enough until he reaches the very same muscles that made up the ‘gate’ he seeks. “Can you...feel me, Kaeya?” he asks, fingers dancing across the dip of his ass, up to his spine. Kaeya turns his head, nods as his lips parted to voice out a breathy answer of, “Yeah, you’re deep, it’s good...” as he wiggles his hips, taking him slightly deeper, letting the blunt head bumps against the closed muscles.

Good.

It’s good.

He punches a yowl out of the knight in one piercing stab, the head of his cock bumps harder into the tiny opening of muscles, loosening it if only for a bit. The surge of accomplishment prompts him to continue, snapping his hips into the welcoming heat, opening up the resisting muscles bit by bit until Kaeya screams and thrashes, his tail furiously whipping about; too excited, too aroused.

His hand sneaks to the front, finding the tip of a trembling cock. Beaded pre-cum crowned its head, spilling in a thin stream of white down the length. “Luc...Luc...” his name falls from the other’s lips, sometimes muffled by the pillow, other times so clear, it rings across the small room. It repeats like a chant, spilling over delicious pink lips before he finally breaches in, muscles giving in to allow him entrance. Kaeya chokes on his name, hips quivering as the shaft in his hand twitches furiously.

Whatever he has breached into, it is warm and tight. The loosened opening grips at him tightly as if trying to milk him dry. He embraces it, snapping his hips back and forth as he leans down to roam his hands across the lithe, shaking body beneath him, tracing faint scars here and there, twisting a nipple or caressing the smooth tan skin. Such a contrast with his own, he muses, light against dark, red across blue, everything about them contradicts one another, yet here they are; joined as one, deeper than he thought they could be.

“Kae...” he whispers to the flushed neck, “...Kae...sweet Kae...” he rambles on, nuzzling his chin to the shoulder, feeling the other weakly pushes back against his thrust.

A growl rumbles his throat when he finally climaxes into the deepest part he could reach, pouring his essence into Kaeya. Sweet, debauched Kaeya who accepts him greedily, taking every last drop of his cum without a single spill. Kaeya who whimpers when he tries to move, begging for a kiss, for more, for anything.

He kisses the exposed neck, combing his fingers through blue strands of hair before pressing their lips together, swallowing every whimper and cry from Kaeya’s lips. They stay connected for a while, him still pouring streams of cum into the heat and Kaeya’s muffled words against his lips.

They finally part as he pulls out, thinking it should be over.

Why is he still hard?

Why?

Why does he feel the need to push in again, breed Kaeya until he chokes on his cum, stomach bloated with his seeds?

He bites at his own lip, willing himself to stop, to banish this kind of thought and leave.

That’s when he is pushed to sit, thighs parted with the cavalry captain between them. His starry blue eye is piercing into his own, determination paints each and every deliberate move his partner makes. “Luc...” Kaeya’s lilting voice caresses his ear, dainty fingers deftly unbuttons his shirt before hungry fingers wander across his torso, scratching a nipple and thumbing the dip of his collarbone.

A lick to his lips turns into a kiss. A caress to his cheek turns into a nuzzle. Slender arms wrap around him as plump thighs cage his hips. He groans at the slick entrance kissing the tip of his cock, hands shooting up to grab at lithe waist instinctively. Whether he wants to lift or push down is up to debate.

Kaeya decides the answer for him, letting his tip breach into his greedy hole, feeling him being sucked into the moist heat.

“Breed me, Luc” he whispers.

Something in his head snaps and he complies.

How many times has it been?

A thrust and a moan, his lips part in a silent scream as Diluc mercilessly pounds into him, bruising his hips in the process. They’ve been at it for how long, he couldn’t tell, the sense of time has been lost long before he lost his consciousness over everything else. His tail weakly slaps against his thighs, twitching occasionally, but stays obediently there, too feeble. There are a questionable amount of fluids around him, in him and if previously this fact aroused him as he begged Diluc to go harder until he forgot how to speak, now he felt the exhaustion settling into every limb of his body.

There is still cock inside him, hard as the first time with the owner of said cock pistoning his hips into him, calling his name while sporting cute soft red rabbit ears. Rabbits are supposed to be prey, aren’t they? Docile and cute, not this beast of sex with endless supply of cum to pour into a willing hole.

He shudders when another wave of cum fills him, moans as it splashes against his deepest part. His poor cock has long been spent, drained out of resources as it pitifully lies against his stomach.

Again, how many times has it been?

Maybe this will be the last time?

Diluc repositions the grip on his hips, thrusting shallowly into him and he simply slumps forward in defeat. “One more, Kae, I promise...” and the frustration in his voice, the childhood name he bears from his lips - Kaeya is just putty against those despite wanting to snap back on how he had said this four rounds ago. With effort, he pushes back, reveling on the moan escaping his partner’s lips.

“As you wish, my knight...” he declares.

“What do you mean they wouldn’t disappear?”

Lisa sighs for the umpteenth time, as she begins to explain once more of what had happened and what had the cavalry captain’s body probably altered into. “Transformation potion brings out the worse effect, flushing it out of your system by putting it to the forefront before letting natural element in the air neutralize any curse or poison from your body,” she explains carefully, a smirk hidden beneath her curled fist, “...you, on the other hand, instead of letting nature cleanses you, had accepted your new parts readily, used it as if it’s yours and put it rather bluntly, got impregnated with the help of these new sets of organs”

She lets her words seep into the knight, snorting when several emotions flash through his face, “I suppose a congratulation is in order then, sir Alberich! Don’t worry, I’ll help with the delivery!” she exclaims, tapping his shoulder, “..and as an act of kindness, I’ll let you borrow books on child rearing and parenting for two months due time and one free extension, deal?”

The cat-eared knight doesn’t answer her, his eye seemingly stares at nothingness even when she waves a hand in front of his face.

Ah well, she snickers in amusement, now how to break the news to Sir Ragnvindr…