Kaydence Wilde @kaydenseesyou - Tumblr Blog

#No fucking surprise who this kid is related to.

#clearly Kay was just trying to take a nice photo of the kids.

re-cornelius-wilde

((re casually @-ing jean))

kaydenseesyou

((Kay’s reaction to seeing this, probably side-eyeing Jean.))

(via 'Dear Satan', An Animated Short About a Girl Who Accidentally Writes Letter to Satan Instead of Santa)

Kaydence Wilde: Son of the Devil.

Kay arrives in Venice with all three of his husbands, he walks through door. Someone drops a massive glitter bomb on him and for a few moments he just kind of stands there, people go quiet and just watch because it’s Kay, is he going to fly off the handle, pull out a gun and kill someone?

A minute passes, the glitter finally settles and stops floating, he’s finally blinked it out of his eyes and huffed it out of his mouth. Quietly he lifts his head, glitterized red hair flopping forward into his face, sparkles float to the floor as he looks up to survey the room, ever alert, always paying attention. He’s on guard and has come there armed with his usual glock tucked away beneath his leather jacket at the back of his usual black jeans, so tight they look as though they could be painted on. It’s not the only weapon he’s brought. He’s not sure what his family can see as they enter the room, he only knows what his hazel eyes tell him. A crowded house full of Monsters and Nightmares. His reality. He really fucking hates vampires.

With a slow breath he takes a step inside. “I need a fucking drink.”

It’s been a while since Kay has let his guard down, even longer still since the last time he had enough to drink to drown out the world around him and ignore the things he could see. But Chess is enjoying himself, there’s a spark there Kayden hasn’t seen in a long time. Trapped in a house with Monsters, Kay is oddly reminded of the day they met, the day he brought a weapon and a bottle of Vodka to the house of a bluesman to watch him die as he hid terrified and begging for help with zombies trying to claw their way into his home.

A few more drinks and Kay starts to remember a time with Chess on tour. He remembers all those times Jean-Auguste rushed to defend their honour and privacy from the prying eyes of the public. He can’t help but be curious if the bat winged angel boy will still come to his rescue. What would Jean do if it was him Kay grabbed by the hair and pulled in close?

It’s safe to say there’s a side of Kay which Re has only ever seen in Jean’s memories until tonight.