Koko & Nupi As Black Dragons' Baseball Team Battery ⚾

before xiao, there was alatus. xiao x gn!reader. warnings: angst, mcd!!, blood, xiao's backstory. wc: 2,708. semi proofread.

before xiao, there was alatus.

alatus who served an unknown god with a deep desire for power and used him to slaughter those who opposed his wishes. helpless and weak alatus who devoured dreams and crush the innocent’s hopes. feeble alatus who withstood countless wounds and near-death experiences.

it was him who deserved the terrified looks of his victims, begging him to spare even at least their children and kill them—only for his body to move without his permission. he who dirtied his soul and tainted his hands at the blood that painted his face.

“you’re tending to wounds that won’t kill me,” alatus muttered.

“immortal yes, invincible no.” the once white cloth you had been using from a week ago was now a light pink and alatus knew it was the blood of his victims. it was wet and cold as you wiped the cloth across his face, removing all the red splatters and cleaning the wounds that he newly acquired.

“you’re thinking lowly of me. you know i’ll get dirty again once i step out and—” he let out a muffled noise as you wiped the cloth on his mouth, shutting him up from his self-deprecating talk. still, this earned you a glare.

smiling lightly—one that looked almost apologetic, you look down briefly. “i know…you hate seeing the blood of others on you. so let me do my job just this once, okay?”

of course, there were many things alatus hated in this world. he hated how you were always right. he also hated how you made him feel. hated how he became selfish at the thought of being with you.

you were a mortal and he an adeptus who still could not fend for himself. while you were free, alatus would be forever chained to his master. he’d told you many times to leave him be, that he was dangerous, that you’ll get yourself killed by him, but you merely smiled at his claims.

“stop looking so worried,” you giggled. “your master won’t come and barge in here. what do you know? maybe he’ll make me fight you and think you’re unfit for the job because you’ll lose to me!”

alatus scoffed—visibly frowning—and crossed his arms as he gave you a look of detest. “you mortals and your imagination.” 

“and this mortal,” you gestured to yourself, “is taking care of an injured adeptus.”

you leaned towards him, gently placing a hand on his cheek as you look up at him. “alatus,” you whispered.

he leaned into your touch, humming. your skin was warm and palm lightly calloused from the everyday work you did but he loved the way you held him. you let out a small laugh, thumb brushing over the healed wound on his cheek as he cracked an eye open to gaze at you tenderly.

“i went to town today and zhao told me there would be a war. do you think it’s true?” you mumbled, already knowing you would be separated from him.

“your god will protect you,” was all alatus could say to you.

war meant death, countless and thousands who would perish at the hands of whoever was responsible. and though alatus protected you from the shadows, he would not be able to be by your side once a war would brew. someone like him who bathed in death was for the battlefield—to kill, to destroy. war meant separation and alatus feared the day your hands wouldn’t be as warm as you held him now.

“hah…i suppose,” you said, your shoulders dropping. “at least i can spend today with you.”

“you talk as if our time is limited,” he scowled. “it’s not, at least for now. i’ll…still come by.”

the lies he told were piling up and he knew they would soon spill out. still, if the lies meant your happiness, alatus would tell a thousand just for the smile on your face to stay. he knew it was wrong—lying directly to your face as you believed him—but he couldn’t dare to see the look of anguish ever again.

with a content hum, you pulled him into your arms and basked in the setting sun. 

–

alatus will never tell you how he felt whenever he was with you. how his stomach would make him uneasy and transform him into a small shy cat, afraid that he’d hurt you in any way should you come close to him. how his day immediately brightens up when he sees you standing by a tree, a stern expression on your face.

"you have blood all over you again," you'd say with a sigh.

and even if you hid the fact that you were terrified of the things he did, you took him into your arms and ran your fingers in his hair. the sweet nothings you whispered when he’d nap on your lap even for a few minutes, leaning down to kiss his forehead made his heart swell.

and he’s glad that he didn’t abandon you the day he saw you.

instead, he listened to the way his name falls from your lips. he chose to lie in your arms and listen to the faint sound of your beating heart. alatus has looked into your eyes as he caresses your face in the moonlight, humming as you whispered about your day to him. 

you were all alatus had in this godforsaken world. he who is the devil would lay at your feet and repent for his actions. if alatus could never forgive himself, you would take his face by your hands and kiss his eyes for they were the reason he saw himself in such a bad light.

the only thing alatus wanted was to be by your side. forever.

he would hold your hand and watch the way your eyes would sparkle at the sight of the sun setting everyday if he wanted. carry you on his back if you ever felt tired from walking whenever you’d set out on a new journey with him. he would eat the food you prepared for him, biting back a soft smile as you complained that his master would treat him so cruelly to not let him eat.

he adored you wholeheartedly.

but you were mortal, ever so fragile.

there would be times alatus would not be able to be by your side and the thought frightened him more times than you’d think.

how could he live a life without you?

he was selfish but he knew you’d still risk it all for him. it was only natural for him to do the same. you were mortal and you’d vanish soon enough but alatus would do anything to keep you alive.

–

“it’s a new dish i’ve been trying out. the ingredients are kind of expensive, so don’t expect me to make it every time!” you reminded as you set the two plates down on the table. 

“your fingers are all…” alatus muttered as he picked up the spoon, eyeing your bandaged fingers—blood still seeping through.

you held them to your chest, offering him a laugh. “it’s nothing, i swear! don’t freak out if you find blood in your food—i’m kidding, i swear.”

he almost looked offended at your statement, looking down at the plate and nudging it with the spoon. it was times like this that alatus did enjoy your presence and warmth. just the two of you basking in the moonlight. the food quickly melted into his mouth and he closed his eyes.

“well?” you peered at him, nudging his shoulder with yours.

alatus turned to you, paused and reached his hand out to bring your forehead closer to his lips. he resumed eating after.

there was nothing he could say but he knew that you already knew the answer to your question.

you leaned onto him, your head on his shoulders as you looked up at the night sky. “hm. let’s name it…almond tofu? it’s made from that, or maybe we should call it tofu almond.” 

“it sounds like something a child would call,” he commented.

“alatus!” you gasped. “take that back!”

“i never said it wasn’t delicious.”

“i suppose you’re right… i hate you and your remarks.”

alatus chuckles lightly, nodding. he takes you in his arms and breathes you in—like a bee needing flowers to survive. you were the light that shone brightly beside the devil, his savior and sanctuary. 

-

fight for me and get me a seat as an archon, his master had demanded all so suddenly.

as he had always been in, alatus was back on the battlefield. his polearm would slash and destroy anything that came his way should they disobey his master, his god. the blood of the innocent on his hands as he slaughtered each and every one.

alatus would never forget the terrified looks on their face, begging him to spare their child.

he hated every second of it. he could not stop even if he wanted to, the strings on his body were being controlled by his god. his god who desperately wanted the seat as one of the seven—greedy and merciless, he spared no one.

red and black was all alatus could see—he had forgotten the colorful skies, the greenery of nature, and the color of the love you gave him.

his soul was tainted and dirty, no repenting could ever make you forgive him now. should alatus crawl to your feet and beg for forgiveness, he knew you would stare at him in disgust and punish him for what he had done.

home was no longer with you, no longer in your arms that would wrap around him and have you whispering soft nothings. alatus was leaving battlefield after battlefield and soon, it had grown into his home.

days felt like years and he wished to head back to you each time he would rest—but he was bound by contracts and his weakness, you. 

-

 “…isn’t that him? he’s disgusting. i can’t believe he’s one of us.”

“it’s like he doesn’t have a mind of his own! what are you—don’t leave me!”

“…master, alatus has caused a great casualty. your soldiers are dying at his hands as well.”

“…master, alatus has killed general zho… we must kill him, it’s the only way—"

“you dare disobey me? alatus is my greatest soldier.”

“alatus, you must kill everyone who opposes me.”

“no god will save you, you damned devil!”

and soon, alatus had begun to kill gods. gods who waged war with him and his master, gods who wanted to flee and save their people, gods who did not care about the seating of celestia.

do you actually think you’re not a monster?

do you know what’s worse than a demon like you? a liar.

you killed people.

no one would forgive you.

what would [name] think?

what would [name] think?

whaT WOULD [NAME] THINK?

it’s in the most gruesome battle that he awakens at your name.

“the name xiao is that of a spirit who encountered great suffering and hardship. he endured much suffering, as you have. use this name from now on.” morax stood in front of alatus—no, xiao.

his master was now dead.

he had won the battle—but at what cost? 

xiao fell on his knees. his world had crumbled.

death was inevitable, it really was. but he had told himself he would go to great lengths to stop death from clinging to him—stop clinging to anyone he loved. he had never loved anyone as much as you before, you were the only one he knew how to love.

so, tell him, why did death cling to him?

a minute earlier. ten minutes earlier. no, an hour earlier. god, maybe a week earlier. you, who he swore to protect with all his heart, clung to him desperately, sobs escaping your lips as you trembled in his arms.

“alatus…it hurts! it hurts!”

xiao bit back the tears, his head buried on your neck as you cried on his chest. “it’ll be okay, you’ll be okay, i promise,” he soothed, lips shaking as he held you tighter.

“i don’t want to die, alatus, i don’t want to!” your voice was weak, full of fear and heavy breaths. xiao wishes he could hear your voice from before, joyous and teasing.

like everyone he had killed, your blood was on his hands. on his arms. on his clothes. on his face. your blood was everywhere on him. it seeped into him and he could feel every bit of it. xiao wanted to vomit, you were everything he had and you were dying before him.

red—it was all he could see.

the blood that seeped through your clothes, from your arms to your middle to your legs. the wounds on your face must have hurt—he wishes he was there earlier. he would have kept you safe. he should have kept you safe.

your cries were even worse. it was the only thing he could hear as he held on to you, tears already down his face as he hung his mouth open—unable to accept the fact that you laid before him with blood. your cries were painful and it hurt him. hurt him till his bones and hurt him in his heart.

sobs wracked your body and you could feel the pain. how painful your wounds were. 

“it hurts!” you cried, “it hurts so bad!”

xiao ran his fingers through your hair, attempting to soothe your cries. his hand reaching out to cup your face as you looked up at him with tear-stricken eyes. you cherished life and you cherished being with him.

losing life meant losing him. 

“you won’t die,” he repeated over and over again.

please…

 xiao wished it was enough to comfort you but really, it was for him. for him to stop falling apart and hurry and take you to the adepti.

“alatus,” you choked out, “please i want to live, i want-i want to be with you…please save me.”

a new name, he wanted to tell you. he lived under a new god now. the cruel master that you hated was now dead and he was saved. the war you had told him about was now over.

you can be together as usual now. he had so many things to say but his body trembled and you simply cried into his shoulder, begging him and any god that you wanted to live and to be saved.

the pain was unmeasurable and both of you knew that you were unsavable. still, you begged him to save you. you were being selfish, so selfish. but you wanted to be with him, feel his smile against your shoulder, have him bury his face into your neck in embarrassment.

“you’ll live. you’ll live. i’ll-i’ll take you to-to morax,” he spluttered, already making up his mind that he should at least try anything to save you. but you hissed in pain when he lifted you up and xiao knew.

there was nothing he could do.

alatus, what do you think of my dish?

alatus, do you think we can gather some qingxin?

alatus, kiss me?

 alatus, welcome home!

 alatus.

alatus.

alatus, do you want me to die?

alatus, why are you so useless?

alatus, you killed me.

(i didn’t…!)

“alatus, i love you, i love you, i love you,” you whispered against his skin. briefly, you wanted to see him smile at you but you were already being too selfish; so, you buried your face into the crook of his neck and closed your eyes at the warmth he brought you. “even-even until death, i will-will love you.”

“you’ll be okay,” xiao whispered, hand by your head as tears rolled down his cheeks. he was weak—he’d always been weak. “it’s okay, i love you too… so, please… it’ll be okay, it won’t hurt anymore. i love you, i love you."

xiao could only wish you managed to hear it.

before liyue and its people, there was you who he swore to protect.

before xiao, there was alatus who wished that you could have stayed with him as xiao.

notes the 2.7 archon quest absolutely wrecked me, i felt so sad seeing xiao wanting to sacrifice himself so i wrote this to help <3 hope u like it because i know i did

gen taglist @ljinghe @yaefics @imtoodumbforaname @wccycc @sugxqts @cottonfluffs // join the taglist here

sky anime headers

♡/rb if u save

ah goddamn this hurts

Somewhere you can’t follow (3) - Genshin Angst [Modern AU]

Summary: You’ve always been there for him but he’s always still loved his ex. You finally had enough and did what you thought was best for you. You left.

Characters: Xiao, fem!reader

Warnings: crazy ex gf vibes, no comfort, pure angst, he basically goes back to his ex, cheating-ish (he thinks of you while he’s with his ex), I went overboard with this one…idk how. 

Other works in this series: (Diluc, Itto, Thoma) (Kaeya, Scaramouche)

Personal favourite line in this work: It was as if you wanted to keep it as evidence that he cared. Something to secretly squeal about at night when you replay the memory. Now just something to remind you that you were a complete daydreaming fool.

Word count: 2955

Xiao

He used to date someone who only dated him for the clout. You didn’t know if he realized it, but Xiao was a smart guy, he must have had some sort of idea…and yet, they continued that way for months, until the girl broke it off and Xiao was thrown aside. 

Keep reading

little devil

[ xiao x newborn adepti!reader ]

summary: what started out as an 'annoying little devil' turned out to be 'my little devil.'

note: wanted to post something for xiao's release and his necklace caught my eye gnekf also not proofread because im lazy as fuck fhskfj also the time line is a little bit after the archon war or something | m.list

words: 425 she smol | warnings: not proofread fjskfj

"i see that the two of you are getting along."

rex lapis chuckled at xiao's bewildered face, grumbling underneath his breath that he did not agree with what he had said—despite the fact that the child mentioned is currently seated between the yaksha's legs, fiddling with a few pieces of beads and what looked like a blunt arrowhead.

"is that so?"

"i am merely doing what you asked me to do," he grumbles, eyes casted down at the child.

"i see, do you want me to take them from your care to lessen your burden?"

tongue tied, xiao mentally cursed himself for not answering fast enough, for the archon's face resembles a smug man who just won a gambling session. another reason to berate himself was the fact that, indeed, he does not want the child to be taken away from him.

what started out as 'an annoying little devil' turned out to be 'they're my little devil.'

from beside him, rex lapis smiled at the yaksha, glad that he's not as tense as he usually is now with the presence of the newborn adeptus in his arms. it started out as a little joke, to test the yaksha's patience. but now that he can see how fond xiao had grown towards the little one, he knew it was the right decision.

"careful, that may not be sharp enough to cut but that does not mean you can eat it."

xiao took the blunt arrowhead from the little one's hands, uttering a disapproving 'tsk' when their little hands reached for the arrowhead once again, softly whining.

"brat."

"so, what might be your answer?"

rex lapis knew well enough what the yaksha's answer would be, but he wanted to tease him a little bit, wanted to hear it straight from his mouth.

xiao paused, weighing the pros and cons of the decision he wanted to make.

"big brother xiao?"

he hummed, meeting the round eyes of the small adepti, who had their hands stretched in his direction, motioning him to take something.

in their hands is a necklace, complemented with white bead, two pink larger ones, two smaller green ones, two lighter pink tassels, and the blunt arrowhead in the middle as a pendant.

xiao allowed the small adepti to hang the necklace around his neck, the weight of the pendant somehow feels reassuring to the yaksha.

now with a confident answer in mind, xiao patted the smaller adepti's head, turning to look at rex lapis to give him his answer.

"i want them to stay."

lights, camera, action!

premise. in which you get yourself involved in a lot of unscripted drama. (genshin celebrity au.)

includes. xiao, childe, albedo, ayato, scaramouche, thoma & kazuha.

previous episode. watch here.

note. the long-awaited sequel nobody actually waited for lmao. please read part 1 if you still haven't! this entire fic would be incomprehensible otherwise :'D

四 ; ayato, the cannon fodder

although xiao is, with absolute certainty, regarded as your definite favorite celebrity in your heart, ayato comes a close second.

he's a modern day prince; if anyone were asked to say which male lead they liked best, you can guarantee their answer would be among one of his roles.

he played a lot of characters—a school heartthrob, a ceo, a bar owner, and even an actual prince for a snow white retelling. each one with stellar execution, as you'd expect from an actor of his caliber.

so it is to your absolute horror to find him casted in this production as a minor villain. the one that happens to (futilely) seduce the journalist to bed, no less!

is he asking to get his image destroyed?! which... actually does make sense. he's already been typecasted as the “prince” type of male lead, and you can guess how frustrating that can be. it must suck to play one persona over and over, mindlessly spouting recycled lines; not much room for creativity there.

but he's had different roles too, of course. one that stuck to your mind is another murder mystery, a film focusing on the death of a family head. the power struggle for the place of successor isn't a secret even to the public, and the prime suspects are primarily composed of the victim's relatives who stand to benefit from the family head's death.

ayato played the role of the first son, believed to be the one most likely to inherit the riches. which means the sooner the family head dies, he gets to have all the assets. he's suspicious due to his probable motive, but overly so that it's too obvious; ironically enough, this leads the audience to think he definitely couldn't be the killer.

except he is exactly that, but for a reason nobody would expect. rather than greed, the first son murdered his father for driving his biological mother to madness due to abuse and then sent her to a psychiatric ward, where she eventually died. he took in a second wife, a woman only after his money, who kept on pressuring her husband to make her daughter his successor.

contrary to popular belief, ayato's character didn't loathe his step-sister. in fact, he cared about her quite a bit, and his hate for his father grew whenever he scorned her for being “lacking” or “good for nothing.” his scummy personality led to his demise.

in the end, the step-mother was wrongly arrested, and the true murderer wasn't revealed until after the credits, where ayato was shown sitting at his father's desk and laughing to himself, followed by a scene detailing how the actual murder took place and how he tricked the investigators successfully.

the contrast between his acting as a shallow young master and a cunning mastermind had been praised by many. to tell the truth, you don't know how he was typecasted as a prince when he's clearly more suited for “villain” roles.

...even so, his current role isn't anything like the previous one! a cannon fodder and a genius murderer are nowhere near alike! he's only there to make the protagonist jealous and his character is fated to die one week after the scene with the journalist!

you suppose your disbelief must've shown on your face when each actor's respective role was announced because he couldn't help but chuckle when he looked at you.

“...by any chance, did you audition for the murderer role? because- it's hard to believe that-” you struggle to piece together words, rambling while ayato is busy signing his autograph on your phone case. (as luck would have it, you don't have paper on you. you said he could sign the back of your shirt but he politely declined, insisting the shirt would get dirty like you aren't planning to get it framed on your bedroom wall and declare it your heirloom.)

you don't even feel shy talking to him from the sheer incredulity of the situation. ayato only laughs as he hands you your phone case. “i did. but it turned out getting a minor role is a good thing since i'm planning to be on vacation soon.”

“oh. that's understandable, then...” barely. you still have complaints about it. as an actor, you respect the director's decisions, but as a loyal fan, you oughta give him a talking to and demand to give your idol the role he deserves.

“do you dislike it?”

your brows knit together, eyes momentarily leaving your now prized phone case to glance at him. “dislike what?” dislike that you're treated like this? that you have to act as a brainless villain? that you don't get much screentime? then fuck yeah.

“dislike that you're going to do that scene with me.” almost bashful, he leans closer to whisper to your ear. “you know. the one in the hotel.”

all the blood in your body rushes to your cheeks. impishly, ayato's lips curl into a smile of mischievous nature, a far cry from the elegant simper he usually holds. “i... that isn't what i... no, i mean it's not that i don't like you as my partner, but- but-!”

sufficiently entertained by your fumbling, he stops being mean and lightly pats the top of your head. “let's both do our best. truthfully, i'm not the most adept with bedroom scenes, but if you need help, you can always rely on me.”

rely how exactly?!

...

“is it too tight?”

“um... a little.”

“okay. is this better?”

“yes. am i too stiff?”

“mhm, a bit. you don't have to be nervous. it's just me.”

ah yes. it's just THE kamisato ayato pinning you down your bed, breathing down your neck, moments away from stealing your lips. nothing to worry about, clearly.

he adjusts his grip on your wrists, loosening it to your liking. his character is meant to push you down forcibly, but of course he doesn't want to actually harm you during filming—to prepare before the shoot, practice is of utmost importance. you have to give the illusion of an aggressive assault when in reality he's handling you like a piece of glass.

but you're doing this right after a day's work, and you have to blame your stupid mouth for running off without command and casually asking him if he could visit your apartment to go over the scene. in late hours of the night. in what can be interpreted as a much more scandalous suggestion.

thankfully, you're not dealing with childe so you're spared from wiggling eyebrows or phrases with flirty implications.

but him being ayato doesn't make it any easier.

“don't you feel embarrassed making out on screen...?” you laugh awkwardly in an attempt to ignore the weird tension in the air, slightly overwhelmed by his intense gaze. “i know you've done this several times, but i imagine the awkwardness never wears off.”

“not quite,” he agrees. “but a job is a job... i say that, but i'd like to make it comfortable for you, if possible. how are you faring? do you need a break?” he sits up, allowing more distance in the space between you. you shake your head.

“i'm fine. just... nervous. it's my first time doing a bedroom scene...” you look off to the side, staring at the lights beyond your window. though you're in the comfort of your own room, having an unfamiliar man on your bed makes it all feel so strange.

...as you thought, it really was weird to invite a co-actor to your bed! eh? would booking a hotel be better? but isn't it overboard to go to a hotel for practice? inviting him to your apartment is equally as bad, though?!

“all the cameramen watching can be pressuring,” he adds in afterthought, releasing one of your wrists only to pin them with a single hand. you flinch a little when his fingers skim over your cheek, but you slowly relax into the heat. “it's best if you try to forget about them.”

“i'm afraid that's easier said than done,” you murmur, voice growing weaker as he leans down once more.

“really? i consider myself a decent kisser.” he grins, sly and confident. “i'm certain i can keep other things off your mind for a while.”

“wh- i'm not supposed to enjoy it, remember?!” you squawk indignantly with flushed cheeks.

“oh? my bad.” he relishes in your reaction, chuckling lowly. “you'll have to work hard acting like you don't like it, then.”

his lips hover above yours, breaths mingling with each other. the proximity catches you off guard but his hand is a steady weight holding you in place, urging you to look at him.

“don't think about anyone else. just focus on me.”

五 ; scaramouche, the best friend

“fantastic. i was also looking forward to a drama adaption but you've already ruined it for me.”

“that's not nice! you're supposed to congratulate me for passing the audition!”

“my courtesy towards you has already expired 5 years ago.”

“yes. you've made that very apparent.”

“have i also made my ire apparent? it's like the universe is telling me seeing you everyday isn't enough, i have to see you on television too. frankly, we see too much of each other.”

“you say that but you're the one coming over my apartment uninvited.”

“this is where i store my beer.”

scaramouche has a perfectly functional fridge so you know he's only doing that as an excuse. he's been this way for 8 years. (of course, he'd only been storing milk at your house when you were both still underage.)

(the milk didn't do any favors for his height, unfortunately.)

his words are as harsh as ever but believe it or not, he's your closest friend. not that he'd ever admit it, even at gunpoint. it's a feat you should add to your resume, honestly, because as far as you know, you're one of the few people he doesn't hate.

he tolerates you enough that he can practice your lines with you (with enough pressure), though he delivers his part of the script with such dispassion it makes it difficult for you to get into the mood. but in his own brand of patience, he lets you reiterate your lines an endless amount of times until you feel like you get it right.

he helps you with expressions too, albeit in a manner you find hard to appreciate.

“you look like you're constipated, not about to cry.”

“your jaw is hanging open. want to catch a fly with your tongue? act like you caught your husband cheating, not like you're about to eat half my burger when you said you'd only take a bite.”

(personal grudges were involved.)

he's not interested in the film industry at all, but he was the one who pushed you to pursue your dreams when everyone else was discouraging you from taking an unstable career. he's your pillar of support; even if he's glaring at you scathingly or giving cutting words matter-of-factly, he's all bark and no bite. the moment you shed tears, he's already pulling you to his chest, remaining silent as he rubs comforting circles on your back. he doesn't even complain when you bury your face to hide in his neck, soaking his shirt with tears.

underneath all that layers, he's pretty nice.

(admittedly, you have to dig real deep.)

when you're smiling and happy, however, he takes the chance to complain. sneering, he blurts, “what's up with you taking roles in romance dramas all the time? besides, you're way too old to be in high school.”

“i still look fresh.” you batted your eyelashes at him, celebrating inwardly when he made a scandalized noise. “but i'm auditioning for a different role soon. if i get it, you'll see me as a murder victim instead of a high schooler.”

two weeks later, you get the e-mail confirming the love interest role. scaramouche goes so pale you consider taking him to the hospital.

“i know the journalist is your favorite character, but aren't you overreacting? do you hate me acting as them that much?”

he rolls his eyes so hard you almost think they're going to be permanently pointed heavenward. “are you stupid? that's not what i'm worried about. wouldn't you have to- you know- do that scene-”

“which one?”

“...the hotel scene...”

ah. well that certainly is a cause for concern. it's steamier than what you're used to; so far, you've only done light pecks or kisses that don't last too long. bedroom scenes are definitely foreign territory.

“i can only hope my partner is good-looking, then. i wouldn't mind it, if that's the case.” you laugh sheepishly, missing the way his eyes narrow in disapproval.

“...whatever. suit yourself.”

“don't tell me you still feel weird about kissing scenes?”

“i don't have issues with kissing scenes. i just don't want to see you sucking face on tv.”

“don't use that word! it's too vulgar!”

as part of work, it's inevitable you have to do a kissing scene here and there. scaramouche has never been fond of seeing them, turning away from the television or excusing himself to the bathroom whenever they come up. it's a reaction you can sympathize with; it is rather awkward to see your friend making out with someone on screen.

but he especially detests the old recording of your high school play.

long, long ago, you were part of the drama club. by association, scaramouche became a member as well—the pair of you were considered as a package deal. he was your practice partner so often that he got forced into joining.

he'd die before he ever tells anyone, but he had a knack for playing villains back then, specialized in wicked cackling and bone-chilling monologues reeking of depravity.

but in your final year, he got roped into playing the prince when the original actor sprained his ankle. incidentally, you happened to be playing the damsel in distress in your (pretty much unrecognizable) rendition of sleeping beauty.

“why is the prince shorter than-” before you could end your statement, he already slammed your face with the script.

the play was a hot mess. scaramouche couldn't play a decent prince for the life of him, so your club made the play a comedy and reworked the entire script to fit him better. the valiant and heroic character became satirical, forced into saving you not for love but to fulfill a prophecy that definitely wasn't in the original sleeping beauty.

the audience was taking the change well, intrigued by the bizarre twists and turns. the huffing-puffing prince was hilarious to watch, too.

it wasn't long before you laid in the casket, blinded by stage lights even with your eyes closed. the cardboard dragon had already been defeated, and the prince was fast approaching.

to your utter distaste, it was decided the prince would slap you awake. so you prepared for it when the last lines were being said, bracing for the stinging pain.

but then there was a rise in pitch, nearing to a yelp, then a loud thud, then the weight of two hands pressing on either side of your head, and-

your lips were touching something soft and warm.

the squeals and yells reverberated in the whole theater, the narrator stammering awkwardly and improvising ad libs last minute. your eyes snapped open and you'd gotten a front row seat to see scaramouche's blushing face, an explosion of pink dancing across his features.

after the play wrapped up and he peeled off the ridiculously frilly prince costume, he'd been set on destroying every record—alas, your friends weren't so keen on deleting such good footage. to this day, he still bristled at the thought of it; his and your first kiss showcased to hundreds of people.

it's harder to endure when he sees you kissing someone else, however. he never gets used to it, no matter how many times he tells himself to.

“oh, finally. it took so long for them to get together,” his co-worker groans as he watches the tv at the break room, airing the latest episode of the drama you star in. scaramouche glances at the screen, turning away when the camera flits to the boy with ashy brown hair. he's touching your face for the millionth time, bright teal eyes staring into yours so deeply scaramouche almost thinks he's actually besotted with you.

“you're not watching? i thought you liked this series?”

“i don't.”

for his own sake, he doesn't give the tv another glance, stepping out of the room.

this is fine. it's not the first time he's felt like this.

(it doesn't feel any less terrible.)

六 ; thoma, the former male lead

there are as many aspiring actors as there are stars in the sky; it's unfortunate only some of them shine brightly enough to be noticeable, and the rest twinkling weakly in miniscule dots.

for your case, and for your friend thoma's, you belong to the latter.

thoma is handsome, that much you can see with your own eyes, but a pretty face can be found anywhere in the industry—he lacks that special something that makes him stand out. that being said, you don't have it either, so you're on the same boat.

you're best pals, comrades in arms, partners in crime.

actual partners. once. for a romance drama.

(but not the main characters. just an obligatory side pairing, of course. you're the rebound for the second male lead.)

it was your first work, and you'd rather delete your existence than watch it again. hopefully, that also erases your dark history.

your... amateurish acting had been unsightly. the innocence you portrayed wasn't lovely, just a ghastly display of incoherent mumbling and lack of comedic timing. you wanted to tear apart each clip and toss it in some imaginary ditch where nobody can find it again.

thoma's performance wasn't as severe as yours. it wasn't half-bad, almost decent if not for the scant instances of awkwardness in scenes that required more emotional acting.

alas, the end product was just about what you expected; a series no one paid attention to. both a relief and a disappointment, because even if you hated it with every inch of your being, the effort you poured into practice and filming was real.

but after the drama ended, you kept in close contact with thoma, chugging down beer at dinners as you complained to each other about work. failed auditions, mistakes in filming, inability to get roles—you shared everything, and he did the same. each moment of embarrassment and each moment of breakthrough that called for a celebration, you told each other. through thick and thin, you had the other's back.

naturally, he was one of the first few people you called (second only to your manager) when you received the e-mail confirming your role as the love interest for arguably one of the most anticipated series to date.

he'd been overjoyed, above all, his elation overruling his surprise; it was a far cry from other violent reactions. (“are you sure it's not a prank?” scaramouche had said in disbelief.)

“you're finally going to be acknowledged!” gleefully, thoma chattered on, “that's the best news i've heard all year!”

and that was good. it was nice having his support. he'd been the one to give you a pep talk before you had to start rehearsals, soothing your fretful worries.

when you don't understand the essence of a particular scene, he's more than happy to help—“i'm just one call away!”

when you fumble your lines on camera, he laughs but not with mockery (a stark contrast to that little gremlin scaramouche)—“it's no big deal. you only have to do your best tomorrow.”

when you recount your experiences working with famous actors, he listens attentively—“you're starting to get along, huh?”

and then you would hesitate. it sounds like you're... bragging.

he says he's only one call away, but he's busy with his own work; still, he makes time for you. he listens whenever you complain, but he has bigger problems, ones that he doesn't say because he knows it'll dampen your mood. he has to hear about you acquainting with celebrities he can't even dream of meeting, like you're showing him the things he can't have.

you got lucky. what about him?

slowly, your face bleeds to commercials, advertisement banners, even huge outdoor LED displays on shopping malls featuring the drama cast—yet he remains as a blurry, nameless figure in the sea of aspiring actors.

he doesn't show it, doesn't even hint at it, but he must be... envious, right?

it's not hard to be. you've been in the industry for the same amount of time, began at the same starting line, yet only one of you found success, the other one left behind in the dust.

still. still. he never shows it. never stops being your biggest fan. never lets you think otherwise. he watches every episode, every interview. babbles how amazing your performance was in this scene. rambles how you did so well in this drama and he's so proud of you. smiles at how you have to wear a disguise now whenever you go out together so nobody can recognize you.

“it must be hard,” he comments as you hide in a secluded park, nearly getting found out by someone you noticed following you around. “you can't get around as freely anymore. are you okay? nobody follows you home or anything?”

always the worrier, you think. “of course not. my manager drives me around everywhere these days. you don't have to worry.”

thoma grins, plopping down at a bench. “that's a relief.”

for a moment, you just sit in silence, basking in the slight chilly air. the orange and pinks of sunset darken to streaks of blue, streetlights flickering to life.

“...did you know there are rumors of you dating xiao?”

you choke on air, coughing to your fist. “what?!” not that you feel flattered. not at all. (you've badgered xiao to come with you to the carnival last week, and then the waterpark a week before that with the rest of the cast, and- well. you suppose there's reason for people to speculate. you also wore matching animal headbands—how on earth you got xiao to do that, you're not sure either.)“why did that- how did it come to that?!”

“it's surprising for me, too,” thoma says. “if anything, i'd expect dating rumors with the actual male lead. or childe. he seems... particularly clingy.”

“albedo? there's no way he'd like someone like me.” you furrow your brows. if anything, it's only gotten awkward between the two of you ever since the confession scene. “ajax... well. i never know with him.” you honestly can't tell if he's flirting or not.

thoma laughs, eyes crinkling with mirth. “you look close with all of them. if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were acting a romance film outside of the project.”

you shudder. “if, and only if, i end up dating one of them, i'll attract all kinds of bad attention. it's not even good PR. i'd hate to think of all the fan girls who'll start cursing me, stealing their man and all that. hell, i'm not even dating anybody and i'm already being cursed.”

“i'll reply to every single mean comment and defend your honor.”

you snort. “do you even have the time for that?”

“...unfortunately, yes. i'm not receiving much work at the moment.”

oh.

fuck.

“i can... i can recommend you to the director. i heard he's starting a new project soon, so maybe-”

thoma frowns and you ground to a halt. “it's fine. i don't want you to do that for me.”

it sounds like you're pitying him. like you don't trust him to rise on his own.

but you want to help.

“is this why you look sad around me every so often?” he realizes, astonished.

“i... can't help but feel guilty,” you admit, unable to maintain eye contact. “every time i say a silly story about xiao, or ajax, or albedo, i feel like i'm showing off. every time i complain, you never try to compare, you only comfort me and never tell me about your problems. i want to do something for you, but i don't know what. i care about you, and i want you to do well because i know how talented you are. except everyone else doesn't, and i want them to see you.”

it's not fair. he's putting in the effort. the same as you are. but it's still not working out for him, and it's not fair.

“you... want to help me?”

you manage a weak nod. you hear an intake of breath, feel him shuffling closer. then he places his hand on top of your clenched fist.

“[name]. can you look at me?”

slowly, you raise your head. his green eyes are shining so brilliantly, bright emeralds gleaming in the moonlight.

yet they also seem... resigned.

“you're really nice, [name]. but you don't have to feel guilty. it's not your fault i'm still like this, and i'm already thankful you're worrying about me. i can't say that i was entirely... not jealous of what you have now, but that's just my problem. so you don't have to make that face, okay?”

he smiles, just like always. you open your mouth to respond, but then you feel that sensation again—that prickle at the back of your neck, the feeling that makes your hair stand on end.

“you're kind.” his hand cradles your cheek ever so softly, tenderly. your lashes tremble, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings. “that's why... i hope you can forgive me.”

this position is familiar. you know this, because you've experienced this before.

long long ago, just when you started your career, you'd practiced this scene with him in the dressing room—hearts pounding, hands awkwardly finding their places;

your lips brushing together in a shy kiss.

now, his fingers are carding through your hair, the closest he's ever been to you in years. you flinch, gripping his shirt, uncomprehending, and-

you hear it.

the shutter of a camera.

七 ; kazuha, the murderer

the first time you heard a complete newbie would act the murderer role, you were in disbelief.

alright, you were an unremarkable actor before your current role, but at the very least, you had experience. not only is this person entirely new to the industry, having nothing to show for himself, he's an amateur. it sounds like a recipe for disaster.

it's even more baffling when you discover ayato, THE kamisato ayato, tried for the role and didn't get it. who the hell is this newbie? someone who got in through nepotism? preposterous! the murderer is an incredibly important character to the plot, the whole series would be ruined if he turned out to be awful!

and then you see who he actually is, and oh boy, he does not look like a murderer.

he's more like a harmless bunny. fluffy white hair, round red eyes, a polite disposition—did you arrive at the wrong set, kid? maybe you were aiming for the high school romance drama and came here by mistake?

the webtoon murderer was no pretty boy. just an average-looking dude working at a convenience store nobody suspected to be the killer because of his unassuming looks, and that was the point. yet this eye-catching hottie is the complete opposite.

but everyone else in the cast is hot as hell, so maybe the murderer needs to be hot too so he can blend in??? director, what exactly did you have in mind?

“[name]!” just as you were staring at him, he turns and notices your gaze, expression immediately brightening. like an innocent baby chick, he walks up to you. “good morning.”

it's another day of rehearsals for the upcoming episode. so far, you haven't gotten to see his true skills yet—the most he's done is act like an ordinary extra part of the background and out of the limelight. it's understandable, since his character doesn't appear much until halfway through the series.

“kazuha,” you acknowledge him, still a little unused to his... general stickiness. you don't know what he found so appealing about you but he's taken to sticking by your side most of the time. childe has teased you more than once that perhaps the little chick has a crush on you.

“do you want to eat lunch together? i know a good fried chicken place.” so it's cannibalism now?

you agree to go anyway because fried chicken sounds great. plus, as much as you came to find that even celebrities are just regular people and you managed to befriend a lot of them, there's a sense of comfort in kazuha—he's the one you felt least intimidated by.

even if you text xiao for hours now, or come over to childe's house frequently, or go on food trips with albedo, or go clothes shopping with ayato and his sister, they're still people you can't get close to without boundaries. there's still a sense of distance separating you, one that you can't cross, but can happily do so with kazuha.

being with kazuha is just comfortable. there's never a need for formalities, and rather than co-workers, you feel closer to being friends.

sometimes, you feel as if you're babysitting though. he just... screams youth. holds the freshness of an amateur, clutching to naive hopes and wishes in the path of stardom. it's endearing to see, and it's like seeing a younger version of yourself.

it's a shame you've buried those naive wishes long ago, but you hope kazuha's career goes well for him. this drama will undoubtedly be a big boost for his popularity, but will also backlash on him if he performs horribly.

“this is my treat.” kazuha pushes the plate of chicken fingers to your side of the table, eyes shaped in smiling crescents.

you shake your head but take one nonetheless. “what kind of senior would i be to make you pay? order all you want, it's on me.”

kazuha doesn't pout but comes close to it, sulking as he bites on a piece of korean bburinkle chicken. “i can't tell if you're doing this on purpose.”

“doing what?”

“letting me off easy.”

...? this kid says some pretty strange things sometimes.

“i'll order some drinks. what do you want?” he offers, standing up.

“iced tea is fine.”

“got it.”

as he moves, his wallet drops on the floor. you're about to tell him so but you think better of it, already considering the possibility of kazuha sneakily paying for your meal on the counter and ordering drinks as an excuse.

you sigh, bending down to pick it up from the ground, but the wallet faces up, revealing the contents.

the first thing you see is your face.

you nearly jolt and hit your head on the table in shock, but you manage to suppress your surprise in a garbled mess of choking. this photo is... from that modeling gig you did a year ago. but why is it in kazuha's wallet-?!

you quickly put it back on the table, just in time for kazuha to arrive. he raises an eyebrow at your flustered expression but doesn't mention anything.

he makes a face seeing the wallet he forgot on the table. you were right after all.

later, as you return to set and practice ends after a few more hours, you recount the order of events to xiao, who could not be anymore uninterested at your entire spiel. perhaps childe would've made a more engaging conversation partner, but you'd rather not deal with his teasing right now.

“-and my face was right there! as his wallet photo! what the hell does that mean?!” years ago, you never could've guessed you'd ever be able to rant to xiao's face like this. yet here you are, unashamed in front of your idol.

“isn't it obvious?” xiao isn't even pretending like he's giving you his full attention anymore, preoccupied with the game console in his hands. “he likes you.”

“???”

xiao sighs, dead fish eyes looking straight at your clueless expression. “don't you have a photo of me in your wallet? that's the same thing.”

“that is certainly not the same thing! you're- xiao, and i'm just me. you're popular.”

xiao almost rolls his eyes. you're way too humble for someone who gets recognized by people on the street daily. “congrats, then. you met one of your rare fans.”

that was an unbelievable thought, before. you? having a fan? whenever you searched up your name, you couldn't find anyone talking about you. your character is different; you're looking for people who's interested in you as a person, not just your role.

now, though. you've accumulated enough fame for a fan club. several maybe, even.

... but even then. that modeling gig hadn't been successful. only someone who knew about it a year ago would know about it now, since it faded from the internet pretty fast.

as far as you know, you didn't have fans a year ago.

xiao makes a realization. “...isn't this the fourth time he invited you to lunch this week?”

“yeah?”

“.....isn't he just hitting on you then?”

now that's just not in the realm of possibility. xiao is so funny.

“he literally baked you cookies the other day.”

“friends give each other cookies, xiao. i can even make some for you if you want.”

“they were heart-shaped, [name].”

(you end up making him cookies to prove a point.)

days pass by, xiao giving you increasingly odd looks, and kazuha finally proves his worth in filming.

his performance rivals that of albedo's—the soft edges of his eyes sharpening into something menacing, gaze cold and apathetic, his lips downturned to an unfamiliar sneer. you're watching the birth of a star, and it's only a matter of time before his talent will be acknowledged.

he's different from ayato as a villain. ayato is cunning, the perfect example of a mastermind. malicious and dripping with spite. but kazuha looks innocent, a cute little bun you'd never guess can make those kind of facial expressions—twisted, vicious, malevolent.

it's part of the act, but you flinch when his character turns violent; kicking down doors, smashing glass windows with a bat. holding the extras acting as murder victims by grabbing them by the hair, throwing down cops like they weighed nothing.

and then right after that scene concludes with the director's “cut!”, with (fake) blood still splattered on his face, kazuha runs up to you grinning innocently, fishing for compliments. “did i do good?”

nevertheless, you give him headpats. “you're terrifying.”

he flushes, not too pleased giving that impression to you. the next day, he acts all sweet to you again, giving you a batch of cream puffs this time. xiao snorts somewhere in the background.

eventually, your manager notices the snacks you receive regularly. “oh, it's from that kid?”

“kazuha? mhm.” you nibble happily on the pastries.

your manager chuckles. “never thought i'd see him again here.”

“...what do you mean?” blinking owlishly, you pause from chowing down. “you know him?”

“he used to work at the bakery you went to often before, didn't he? the kid you kept telling to watch your first drama. you forced him to watch the episodes on your phone during his break.”

...............FUCK.

you do remember doing something that stupid. during the filming of your first drama, you frequently stopped by at a nearby bakery to buy snacks, and you remember there was a cute kid working there. you often pinched his cheeks and cajoled him into watching the series.

but when filming ended, you couldn't go to the bakery anymore. the filming location was far from your house, and the bakery was simply out of the way.

did that kid... kazuha... support you all this time? from that early on?

you curse your manager for telling you this right before filming. your mind is a mess, having trouble connecting that cute, precious child (why are you always calling him a kid, he's barely 2 years younger than you) to the smooth and flirty man today.

it's an important scene today too! the confrontation between the detective, his partner, and the murderer. it needs your complete concentration, and you just don't have it right now. you've never seen the director lose his temper, but you can probably manage to do it today.

albedo is performing well in front of the cameras as always, so much like a protagonist that you feel like you're watching from a television screen already. but you have a job to do too, so you do your best in the spotlight, pretending to be unaffected.

kazuha looks even scarier up close, so unhinged and unreadable. you know what his next move will be, written on the script, but that doesn't make you any less uneasy.

“you're bold,” kazuha drawls, playing with the knife in his hand, “coming to see me by yourselves.”

you can hear what he's saying, but it feels like your head is full of cotton. why are you so distracted? “so it really is you,” you speak, praising yourself for acting normally.

the other two exchange lines, and you thank the heavens you're mostly silent for the time being. for the meantime, you have a few moments to collect yourself; there's a chase right after this, and you'd rather not do something stupid like trip over yourself in the middle of something so serious.

...

sometimes, you're gifted with foresight.

but! to be fair! you did not trip over yourself! the staff forgot to fix the cables in one part of the set, and you tripped over those. so no. not entirely your fault.

albedo is too far away—he's on the side trying to unlock the doors with his brain powers somehow, and you're the bait distracting the murderer before he does. he can't catch you with his male-lead-in-a-romance-drama-slash-protagonist reflexes now.

ordinarily, you would not trip over the cables. you have able eyes, and you could easily step over them. but you're at the stairs where darkness falls with each lower step, and wire cables don't exactly glow in the dark.

...you're at the flight of stairs. and you're about to fall over. FUCK. WHY DID THE DIRECTOR WANT A CHASE SCENE IN THE STAIRS.

you brace for the impact, hands outstretched, praying to at least save your face, but then in a complete break of character, kazuha reaches for you.

you're leaning too far to the edge now. there's no way to pull you back to even ground. kazuha grits his teeth, pulling you to his chest, and in an immense show of strength, twists around so he'd be beneath you.

you descend in a disgraceful tangle of limbs. you're enveloped in a warm embrace, cheek resting on a firm chest. a chin is tucked into the crook of your neck, heavy breaths tickling the skin of your shoulder.

heart pounding in adrenaline, you jolt back to action when the relief fades away and the panic settles back in. “your head-!” you scramble to touch kazuha's head, feeling for any bumps or even worse, blood. kazuha hisses, so you soften the touch, tracing over his body to check for other injuries. he became a literal mattress for you, and you crushed him under your weight. he looks so so frail, what if you permanently crippled him or somethi- what the hell is all this muscle?“what about your back? did you get sprained anywhere?”

“i'm fine,” kazuha wheezes under your caressing.

“you don't sound fine! who are you trying to fool? you didn't have to do that!” you grab his cheeks as you admonish him, frowning severely. they're as soft as ever, just as pinch-able as you remember—but you won't let that distract you now! that was very reckless of him!

you scramble to scurry to the side, but his hands maintain their tight grip on your waist.

bashfully, he averts his gaze, the cheeks beneath your palm growning warm and flushing with a pretty pink. “i'm not hurt. it's because you're... on top of me...”

you blink, glancing down at your position. at a proximity entirely inappropriate, you're hovering above him, straddling his hips and making no move to get away.

this kazuha is too different from two minutes ago! wasn't he just chasing you down the corridor in murderous intent?! now he's blushing underneath you, like a pure maiden you defiled!

what's with this soft, sugary atmosphere?! last time you remembered, this was a murder mystery drama!

(when the drama ends, you're casted for a romance college series with kazuha as the male lead. figures.)

Little Brother ⊱⊰ Kazuha

A/N: This isn't the sequel for Vigil, but a series of scenarios that I couldn't add to the ficlet since it was getting too long- ehe

➸ Vigil (Ficlet) Honor (Sequel)

✤ she/her

≿————-　★　————-≾

The most adorable little brother ever! His cheeks are round and chubby—and they're always flushed pink!

Totally not because you keep pinching them until he cries- no, totally not, mm-mm.

His childhood days aren't complete until he says 'nee-san' at least once. The poor child is getting bullied by Tomo a lot too, so who does he come running to for help!?

"Onee-chan! Tomo- T-Tomo- waaAAAH! NEE-SANNN!"

Goodness, growing up flipped a switch in his personality but that's a talk for later

If you aren't holding his hand as you two walk around the Kaedehara Estate, he's in your arms like a literal bb

If he's not in your arms then he is sitting on your shoulders, giddily exclaiming that he is as tall as you are [even if he'll eventually grow to be taller-]

Kazuha clings to you. Nee-san must always be in his sight or else he'll either be (っ- ‸ – ς) or (ಠ╭╮ಠ)

Yeah, he's definitely more (ಠ╭╮ಠ)

"Nee-chan, stop hiding from me!"

Will lowkey get frustrated about it even if he's the one who wanted to play hide and seek lmao-

You understand why Tomo bullies him, he's cute. If your little brother hasn't found you in the course of ten minutes, he will cry for you

Even when you appear, his attempts to stop weeping 'because it makes him less of a man' will fail and he'll just look x2 cuter

Mm, everything's not sunshine and rainbows, though

The wealth of the clan has been diminishing as time passes, so naturally, its prestige follows

Since both your parents are occupied with thinking of ways to keep the clan's nobility, most —if not all— of Kazuha's attention is placed on you. His beloved nee-chan o(≧∇≦o)

You pamper him, but not to the point that he becomes spoiled. Disciplining him crumbles your heart [he looks so sad when he's reprimanded] but since it is for his betterment, you still do it. He's a quick learner, too.

Anything for his nee-san. Anything for nee-san!

One time when he sees you being scolded heavily for something that he did, he teared up, ran on his wobbly legs, and punched your father's legs asdfghjkl

"Don't hurt nee-chan!"

Ugh, why is he so adorable. You personally keep him away from other girls his age because they're already giving him the heart eyes- you know for a fact that all that baby fat is going away to be replaced by more defined features when he grows up

So oohlala, when adolescence kicks in and he's suddenly looking sharper? Heavens. The pink envelopes coming in endless. Unfortunately, however, your brother doesn't look interested. You know what caught his fancy?

Roaming. Wandering. Adventuring.

Since the clan is losing its power, no one honestly cares that he is shirking his 'responsibilities'. Sometimes, he goes away and doesn't return for days. Just your typical adolescent, but he's still your sibling. He still calls you nee-san :D

That is until both your parents have passed — until the Kaedehara name lost its status — and you were both alone.

You were eighteen then, but you proved yourself capable of being the heir by pragmatism alone. Earning money for you and your brother, taking over the chores, everything.

During this time, Kazuha had been teaching himself the ways of the blade with Tomo, who offered his help to you whenever he could.

And as you grow up — eventually, Kazuha does, as well.

"Welcome home, how was your walk?" Your sibling, now at the age when you took over the household, smiled.

"Ah, I had to come back for my katana. Do excuse me."

He passed by the dining table that was already set with plates and utensils, heading over to his room. His gentle yet straightforward response befuddled you without a doubt, but it hollowed your chest.

It feels like you're missing something.

"Don't wait up, I'll take longer than usual," he appears back in a rush, arranging the sheathed blade hanging by his waist.

"Oh, at least—"

"I'll see you soon, [Name]!"

His tuff of silver hair vanishes behind the panels — and you are alone.

Ah, this feeling was familiar..

It felt like the night you came upon your parents' unmoving figures.

The smile on your face was bittersweet.

You knew what was missing.

He wasn't calling you 'nee-san' anymore.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

a/n: well that's a way to end a fluffy scenario... ah, i think i'll be making a separate masterlist for scenarios so it doesn't clump. eeee~ thanks for reading!

≿————-　taglist　————-≾

@lehra @melkxsh

Genshin Volleyball Dream Team [Volleyball Team AU - Inspired by Haikyuu!] Introduction Headcanons

Notes: Guess who started watching Haikyuu! FML As if I didn’t have enough things to do I decided to fall in love with like 5 different volleyball teams with an average of 10 players. 

I couldn’t get it out of my head. I’m sorry.

Scenario: What if the Genshin boys were a volleyball team?

In the next part: How would it be working as their manager? What if someone hits on you? What if some girl fans bully you? Also, how would it be to date a Genshin volleyball superstar?

Other works in the Volleyball Team AU Series: Click Here

If you’re not familiar with volleyball (or Haikyuu) here’s a link explaining what each position in the team does.

Keep reading

me when

me when people make fanart of shinichiro, mikey and emma together and write 'sano siblings <3' in the caption but izana isnt there

LOVE ON THIN ICE. childe

anonymous said : Hi hi! Congrats on getting 800 followers!! For the event, how about "love on thin ice"?

content; ice hockey player!childe x gn!reader, modern au, sports au, fake dating au, college au, friends to lovers au and fluff, mentions of cheating and childe's real name, and kissing. wc; 1.4k

☆ — a part of my 800 followers event ✧ and happy birthday, tartaglia!!

"if you want this, us, to work—" childe furrowed his eyebrows, and you on the other hand, noted that he often did this only when under immense pressure. fake dating was a tiring thing to keep up, especially when childe's teammates started to notice how awkward you guys were when accidental physical touches occurred around you, "—kiss me everytime we won a game."

you almost choked out on the tea you were having at the cafeteria, "huh?"

"it would slowly come off natural if you can pretend to be excited for me," childe sighed. deciding to cut the chase, he put his palms underneath his gorgeous face, "i know our games aren't really your thing, but the bare minimum we can do for people around us to believe is for you to running excitedly into my arms, and me, maybe, lifting you up so that you can cup my whole face and kiss me. in front of the whole arena."

"you hate pda, and as the considerate boyfriend that i am, this would be the only one time we should prove to them," he sent you a smile, and chuckled when the red shades on your face were starting to form at the idea.

fake dating childe was a whole new experience for you, but god damn he was an amazing one at that. no one told him to be a perfect pretend boyfriend for your sake, but here he was, once brought a punch to your ex's face when you came back crying, standing up for you as if he was meant to fight anyone who talked bad about you, and casually came knocking on your door every weekend as if it was his routine to check up on you, or, to spend his time with you.

there was no way you fell for him, of course not. you wanted to make your ex felt devastated cheating on you with all these fake dates and flirting you did with childe, and childe wanted to show you to his family and teucer as his fake partner since they wanted him to find the one.

before, you weren't a fan of pda, or surprises, because you never did all of them with your ex, but fake dating childe made you craved that you did want everyone to know you were his. and the casual surprises he did on you when you were out with your friends—for an instance, he suddenly showed up out of nowhere, introduced himself as the boyfriend, giving you your favourite ice cream, all while ignoring the visible shock your friends gave and hugged you tightly, said that you should have a date with him after that since it wasn't fair for him to miss you—ended up with you looking forward to his little banters.

was it normal to feel this kind of way? even though all of it was fake to begin with? you didn't really know. but the thought of kissing childe was making you nervous for some reasons, it would turn out to be the first kiss you'd ever shared, you gulped.

after spending some time rolling on your bed yesterday, you realised that you needed to get away from him before he knew what he did to you. knowing childe, you knew it would fuel his ego even more if he ever knew how much he affected you now and this fake act.

if someone told you months ago that you would actually enjoy the weekly hockey games, you would laugh them off.

yet, here you were.

screaming your lungs off, cheering for your college team, sighing when the opponents got another point, jumping around the seats when childe's team won a point.

this time around, the match was pretty intense. whenever his team took the lead, the opposing team would catch up with their score.

"ajax!" you thought you might burst your lungs. you never ever reached the highest pitch of your own vocal range, hyping the game as it went on, "land the final blow!"

it was a miracle, despite how noisy the whole arena was, child did hear you amidst the crowd. he lost his focus when he saw you, and you panicked when someone from behind was about to hit him and get the puck from childe.

he regained his consciousness, aware of his surroundings when your eyes gave him what he needed; the spirit to continue. time was running out, and he was the team's current final hope and ace for reasons.

he should make you proud, he thought.

the ginger skated gracefully across the rink, ultimately prevented himself from getting body check by the one behind him.

then, he heard it again. ajax.

something about you made him determined to end this for good, as he charged forward, made the shot for it with all his might, whilst the goaltender seemed to be in shock at how fast childe's attack was.

maybe it was the goaltender's fault for blinking, but then the whole crowd that went silent throughout the last minutes was jumping, and the joyful sounds were coming from your college, and the final whistle went off.

childe's team had won.

he quickly removed his helmet, and his teammates ran towards him. as the scene unfolded in front of you, you clapped your hands excitedly, you were proud of him. the way he hugged his teammates back with the widest smile you had ever seen made you unknowingly jumped off from the crowd seats, instantly made a beeline, passing through the boards when childe finally stepped outside of the rink, his skates were already off of his feet.

he saw you, the sweaty beads on his forehead as he pushed the strands back to clearly see you running at him made his smile widened even more, and you were happy for him, as well as flustered at how good he looked after all of those crazy acts he put up beforehand.

"hey, look, i'm just joking around about you kissing me if we do win. and if you are uncomfortable with it, then don't force yourself—

you didn't care. you didn't care even the slightest. something inside your mind screamed for you to make it real. to kiss him for real.

and then you ignored the stares from his teammates, leaping forward as childe quickly caught on your waist, the look on his face confirmed that you did want him, although you had already reminded childe beforehand that you didn't think you could do it.

childe was caught off guard, yes, but it was insane how fast his reflexes were to not make your feet touched the ground anymore, but instead holding his jersey dearly that made him melted at the sight.

it was proven that you already had faith in him.

"no, really, if you don't want to, then it's fine—

"shut up," you surged forward without any warnings, the sudden kiss made childe widened his eyes, but smiled nonetheless at how eager you were to kiss him, "god, i am so proud of you," you breathlessly said.

you took his breath away, and this was exactly how childe envisioned it to be, but even better.

you, being lifted by him in his arms, your waist fit perfectly around them. the small hand on his neck and the other fisting his jersey for you to kiss him even more.

the soft contact of his lips brought you to an epiphany, that you wanted all of these to be real, not just another fake act to the innocent witnesses around you.

your lips brushed his. soft, delicate, like butterfly wings. just long enough that he could inhale your breath, felt the warmth of your skin, and the taste of your lips still lingered on his far after you had gone to steady yourself.

he pulled you closer again, giggling through the kiss and hummed when you didn't seem to stop sooner. it was more than he wanted. it was perfect.

so when you almost gasping for another rush of air for your lungs, childe finally put you back on your feet.

his hold still didn't loosen up, "that didn't feel half bad. you're not a bad kisser, i must say."

you almost shying away when you realised how bad you wanted to feel him against your lips, and even though childe was still drenched in sweats, you hid your face against his chest, simultaneously felt the fast beating of his heart.

"let's go on a date after this," he gave you a cheeky peck on your lips once more, and you swore that he would definitely be the death of you one day.

yes, you were an ordinary student with nothing extraordinary, but it just happened that you had the best fake boyfriend in the world.

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