Different Versions For The Miya Twins & Kita! (pt 1)

Pleaseeeee I need to know more about the harbinger's personalities so I can make more shitposts

OH MY LORDDDDDDDD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

16 | slowly rest your head on my shoulder. (1k words)

you sigh and smile in content. the last time you got to loosen up like this was when you got through your first year of college. it's been months since then and you find yourself here right now, enjoying with friends, your worries at the very back of your mind.

it's already past midnight, three in the morning. most of your companions scattered around the almost empty bar, passed out either on the floor or on one of the couches. but you see venti, kaeya, kazuha, and hu tao on one of the bar tables, still taking shots together. laughing and slurring at whatever they're talking about. you giggle slightly at them.

goodness, they have monster livers.

your mind is a little hazy but you're sober enough to be aware of your surroundings and remember everything that happened tonight. you didn't drink alcohol as much as the others did. you probably only had roughly a bottle of liquor. you can handle your alcohol well, but you chose to tone down your intake this time. considering that there are other people accompanying your friend group today, you didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of them.

you stand up from where you're sitting and decide to head outside the bar, wanting to get some fresh air.

in the dim staircase, you see the silhouette of someone at the end, sitting on the curb of the street. (the bar is underground and the entrance is a staircase, if you didn't get the picture) you jog your way up the stairs and stop just behind the person.

you realize that it's scaramouche.

you didn't want to admit it, but you secretly kept looking for him inside the bar when he disappeared somewhere. not only was he late but he only stayed with the group for an hour or two before disappearing by himself. he didn't even interact with his friends much, just quietly drinking in the corner of the bar. when you realized that he was nowhere in sight, you just assumed that he went home by himself.

so this is where he went.

you study him. he's facing the quiet street, holding a shot glass and a bottle beside him.

you make your presence known by coughing slightly. "is this how antisocials hang out when they go to a bar with their friends?”

he turns his head to look at you. he let's out a breath, almost like a laugh, and smirks lazily. "what, missed me already?"

"you wish. i just came out for fresh air." you make a move to sit down beside him on the curb, the bottle of liquor between the two of you.

"you're kind of a moron. but i know you can get there."

you suddenly remember his words earlier today. after the debate, you've been thinking about your view of him ever since he said those words of comfort to you. if it were any other person who said them, you would've laughed at their bad effort of trying to be supportive.

but those words came from him. which made them completely different and special. knowing him, it was the best consolation he could give to someone and, most especially, to you.

so you begin to see him in a new light. perhaps he's not as bad of a person as you thought. perhaps he doesn't actually think you're below him. you think that maybe his way of friendship is through offending people but with no actual malice. or perhaps he just doesn't know how to approach people normally.

but all of those are mere speculation in your perspective. you realize that you can't get to know him properly if you keep pushing your petty grudge on him.

moments pass with just the two of you sitting there saying nothing.

"we did good." you slur slightly, the tiredness that your body felt is now only settling. "i wonder why we didn't get partnered for debates at all back in highschool. not that i wanted to, though."

he stares at you for a second before explaining, "i organized the debates in a way for us to always be on separate teams. being pres had its perks."

you notice that he didn't slur his words at all. how many bottles did he have? you wonder.

"are you not drunk at all?" you ask.

"i can hold my liquor." much to xiao's disappointment "what? thought you could catch me slipping?"

"kind of."

"never." he laughs slightly.

although he did say that, it's quite obvious that he's out of it to some extent. he's snarky, but his remarks are more lighthearted than usual. or maybe he's just too tired to start his usual arguments with you. who knows.

he grabs the bottle between the two of you, uncapping it to refill his glass.

he's so passive right now that you find it weird.

once he's done filling his shot glass, he hands you the bottle that still has one shot worth of liquor in it. "you can finish it. i've had enough."

you accept it, "you sure you didn't drink from this bottle?"

he looks at you boredly. "why do you think i have a glass with me?"

"just making sure." you shrug and down what's left of the bottle in one go. scaramouche follows you and takes his shot.

you cough at the bitter taste, squinting slightly as you take in the alcohol. you place the bottle back down beside you. you sniff and wipe your face with your sleeve.

you sigh heavily and rest your head on your palm. you feel your muscles relax and your eyes start to droop out of exhaustion. your head swaying slightly, trying to keep it upright.

you take a sleepy glance at scaramouche only to find him already staring at you.

"you look ugly." he says.

"and you have a bowlcut..." you mumble back.

you finally let yourself succumb to sleep. so out of it that you don't feel his hand slowly guiding your head to his shoulder.

you two sit there, side by side, with you dozing off. silence engulfing you both and street lights illuminating your features.

a peaceful and intimate moment with only the moon as your witness.

and as you continue to drift in your dreamland, passed out and unaware of your surroundings, you don't hear the quiet mutter under his breath that's forever lost to the soft breeze of the cold morning.

"you did good today. i'm proud of you."

raised the bar !

masterlist / prev - next

synopsis yn thought she finally escaped the perpetual doom of constantly placing 2nd after she graduated high school. but alas! the leaderboard has her name printed under another’s! a name she thought she’d never get to see again. better luck next time, i guess.

a/n: just some of their instagram story highlights! because is it really a social media au if there aren't irl ulzzang photos 😭

anw that's a wrap for the act one of this smau!! the next updates will continue on act two which will focus more on yn and scara's development and will reveal more about their struggles and stories since act one focused more on introducing the characters and their dynamics.

{ ⚖︎ } taglist — @iwziu @nejibot @thenightsflower @crowbird @scaramouchekink @bleedingwhiteroses222 @dksfl920 @sevynnee @hangezoessidehoe @lunaflvms @ifelloutofbed @aerasoline @cloud-emoji-exe @platinumuse @lovelyiez @yolotokyoo

if your username isn't darkened like the others that means i unfortunately can't tag you

If you want to be part of the taglist, just reply, dm, or ask!

[4:08 PM] + superheroes + “what? you think I care?”

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 masterlist

“let him go.” you’re the first to get there, light on your toes as you land in the rubble of what was once a cute cafe you were meaning to visit during your downtime. that only angers you more, and somehow that helps the nerves crawling along your skin.

your eyes are pinned on the him, the blue flames that burn at the tip of his fingers, that seem to burn in his dark eyes, his long hair pulled back in a ponytail. his fingers are wrapped around a boy’s throat and, thankfully, the victim hasn’t been set on fire. yet. 

the moment you flew over the center square after receiving the alert, you knew this was different from the usual villain fights you’ve built your entire career on. heroes and villains were something of a capitalist ploy - you’ve spent plenty of dinners choreographing fights with your supposed rivals. it was supposed to be something of a morale boost for the general public, especially after people with powers began to emerge in extreme numbers and fear ran rampant. hongjoong told you it was to quell those who wished to cause serious harm, scare them with theatrical displays of the Good Guys beating the Bad Guys. affirmations really that would stop any real bad guys from attempting to destroy the world as they knew it. yunho always said hongjoong was a bit of an idealist.

an underground surge of real villains began to emerge and the delicate balance the hero-villain alliance managed to salvage for the past decade started to crumble. you figured it was bound to happen sooner or later - the hero-villain alliance was built on the backs of deception and money - it was never meant to last. yunho also tended to call you a pessimist.

Keep reading

𓂃 xiao + idiot in love .

xiao hates you. he's completely sure of it.

you make his heart race, his palms turn sweaty whenever you're seated right beside him— and that's a huge problem because you're his seatmate for the entire school year.

his stomach twists and turns when you smile, and his breathing constricts everytime he gets a sniff of your hair whenever you take a closer look at his notes.

you always smelled like strawberries, sweet and pungent, just the way he likes.

yeah, xiao was definitely sure that he despises your entire being. 

"how do you know if you like someone?"

kazuha perks up from the question. he looks at the boy sitting beside him, raising an eyebrow and the slight upward quirk to his lips doesn't go unnoticed.

the blond was sure that more unusual things have happened to him in the past, like how he discovered that all cats run away from itto. however, xiao asking him this question is becoming remarkable on its own.

"what are you looking at?" the other boy growls at him. 

kazuha rolls his eyes playfully. he had almost forgotten how defensive his friend could be. "are we talking about y/n?" the blond prods— he knows that only one person could have caused this.

"w-what?! no! why would you even think that?! i can't stand them." 

see? defensive.

"besides, i was asking for a friend."

kazuha had to stop himself from bursting into laughter. instead, he opts to deadpanly say, "sure."

the kaedehara descent hums, thinking to himself. he had to be careful on what he says next as it will either give xiao a push or lead the other to even more confusion.

"you feel happy when you see them?"

the other rejoices inside. 

xiao, although he'd never admit it to kazuha, is thinking about you. don't get him wrong— he doesn't doubt that his feelings for you are 100% less than platonic— however,  an upperclassman, one he looks up to the most, asked him to reconsider his thoughts on his feelings.

(he remembers the golden eyes that pierced through his soul earlier, "are you sure of that, xiao? hate is a strong word." a rich deep voice says.)

he's sure that whenever he sees you, he doesn't feel happy. the opposite happens actually— he feels nervous and jittery when you enter the room and he finds this extremely out of character for him. and that's one of the reasons why he's with kazuha right now (of course aside from consulting the blond); he tries to hide from you to gain a sense of normalcy even if it was temporary.

"although, despite feeling happy with them, you try to avoid them too." kazuha adds, still deep in thought. "maybe because you feel shy?"

xiao grimaces. he is never shy.

"or maybe you're scared that you'll potentially embarrass yourself? either way, you always try to put some distance between the two of you."

the dark haired man becomes more confused than ever! he came here to make things clear (not that he needed to because he's certain what he feels for you is less than platonic, remember?), and yet kazuha is no help at all.

"you're not helping."

"how did you know? did your friend tell you just now?"

"what—? oh, no. this isn't the answer that my friend is looking for."

kazuha snorts, knowing that whatever xiao told him was a lie. leaning forward, he tries to find more about the never ending saga of xiao's feelings, "what's your friend looking for then?"

"well," your seatmate shrugs, thinking. "my friend told me his heart races whenever he sees this person and his hands get really sweaty. and then their stomach turns and they find themself short in breath whenever this person is around— that's disgust right?"

kazuha's jaw dropped on the floor; he hadn't expected it to be this bad for archon's sake. 

"i mean, that's how i feel whenever i see a broccoli or whatever." 

the blond finally loses it; he starts uncontrollably laughing. did he just compare you to a green vegetable? kazuha had to inhale sharply to attempt to hold in his laughter, feeling the glare that was being sent his way.

"you—" xiao starts to threaten, however he is cut off short when the door to the class opens, revealing the last person he wanted to see now. 

you enter the room, looking for a certain dark haired gremlin you had as a seatmate. there is less than five minutes before lunch break ends and you were starting to get worried without xiao sitting beside you. so, after asking a lot of people if they had seen him (god was he hard to find, it was as if he was avoiding you), you find yourself staring at the man of the hour, beside a very purple kazuha.

(why is he holding his breath?)

"xiao! classes are about to start soon." 

"y-yeah, i'll be right there." he stutters, and you definitely saw him kicking his blond friend under the table when kazuha attempted to speak. you eye them both suspiciously before quickly noticing xiao's reddened cheeks.

(with his green undertones on his hair, he certainly looked like a poorly decorated christmas tree.)

you take a step closer to the pair before putting the back of your palm on your seatmate's forehead. "you seem fine, you don't have a fever."

kazuha on the side audibly gasps.

if xiao didn't feel hot earlier, he's certain he is now. heat rises and covers his entire face and he sees your eyebrows furrow. without giving you a chance to speak, xiao practically shoves you away (rude), before disappearing behind the doors.

you turn to the blond left behind, "what's up with him?"

kazuha shrugs, as if teasing, "i don't know. what's up between you two?

♥︎ please do not repost or translate without my permission . reblogs are heavily appreciated!

dedicated to my friend @eufrsr who's finally a xiao haver!

because i will love you until i die, and even longer still

content: angst, learning to move on

character/s: albedo

note: i’m really excited to share this one with you guys!! i have been thinking about this angst prompt for a while now, and it basically centers the concept of grief and loss. i believe it’s a truly difficult journey to wrap your head around the loss of a loved one. sometimes even the smallest of their habits and likes that you’ve picked up still breathes life into them even when they’re gone. i think it’s a beautiful yet sorrowful lesson to experience in life - to learn that love isn’t always about holding on, but letting go - and it’s seriously inspired me to write this albedo story. for now i hope you’ll still enjoy and have a lovely day!!

ALBEDO

Happy birthday, my love.

Albedo jolted up from his sudden slumber, frantically glancing around his empty laboratory.

I thought I heard her…

He blinks, puzzle for a moment, before fully shaking himself awake and running a hand through his unkempt hair in frustration. How did he end up falling asleep in the middle of his work? And a very important project at that.

He glances down at the stacks of scrolls scattered around his desk and the heaps of books dispersed in the room - starting from the area near his feet trailing all the way to the exit of his laboratory.

I was a bit confused on what to give you as a birthday present, so I ended up sticking with a letter instead.

He stands up and stretches his arms, groaning sloppily from exhaustion. Albedo knew he had to clean before doing anything else - you would have reprimanded the life out of him if you saw his mess of a workroom.

It was currently 9:30 in the morning, and his stomach angrily grumbled, urging him to get some food. He ignored the persistent pain, bending down to gather the fallen books and trash disposed all around the room.

I hope you don’t mind this gift - there are also a few things I need to convey to you in my message as well.

A flurry of soft raps echoed throughout the silent laboratory from the entryway. Never batting an eye at the wooden door, Albedo continued to put away a few more items before eventually responding to the knocks. “Come in.”

The door creaks open, a shy and high pitched voice severing the tranquility of the area. “Mister Albedo, it’s me.”

“Sucrose.” He hums, acknowledging her presence. “What do you need?”

She awkwardly fiddled with her fingers. “You’ve been stuck in here for weeks. I was wondering if you wanted to go out and have breakfast with us. And Klee…insists for your appearance.”

Are you well? Have you been taking breaks like I’ve asked you to?

Albedo shakes his head, dusting his hands off as he stands up. “You know I can’t do that.”

Sucrose sighs. “I knew it.”

“So why bother coming anyway?” He asks, looking around the now tidy room.

She huffed at his stubbornness. “Mister Albedo, you know that isn’t good for your health. If Y/N were here-“

A loud crash echoes throughout the laboratory.

“Don’t say that.”

He seethes through clenched teeth, pent up frustration boiling in the pit of his stomach. In a fit of anger, Albedo’s hands had shoved the previously neat pile of books he arranged, and sent them flying back to the ground.

Even after all these years, hearing your name roll out of anyone’s mouth still sends him into a sensitive and frenzied state.

Sucrose knows that he is slowly dying inside. Anyone could see it in those lifeless pools of teal. Countless days and nights were spent locked up in the tiny room, experiment after experiment only to get his expectations crushed. It had eventually reached a point where even the archons could tell that the great and brilliant Albedo was simply clinging on to the last thin strings of false hope.

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

“I’d voluntarily exhaust the rest of my life making sure it does.” Albedo retorts, eyes fixated at the mess beneath his feet, never daring to meet hers.

Sucrose nods, glancing with pity at the unreadable man with clenched fists standing in front of her.

As I thought. He’s still persistent.

“Alchemy has it’s limits too. That’s all I’m saying.”

Without another word, she quietly slips away through the exit, making sure to shut the door behind her and leave Albedo alone with the voices in his head.

I’ve spent a great deal of time trying to come up with the best way on how to celebrate your birthday.

Not again.

He scoffs, looking away from the scribbled writings on the board down to his chalk - once the length of his index finger, now reduced to a minuscule size. Tossing it behind his shoulder, his fingers dive in to reach for another, before it dawns upon him that he’s finally run out of it.

Archons, this is so damn irritating.

We could pick cecilias and stargaze on Starsnatch Cliff.

Albedo massaged his forehead in frustration, glancing over at the barricaded windows he blocked months ago to obstruct any light from entering the tiny room. It had been weeks since he left the laboratory, and he knew the day would eventually come when he depleted all of his necessary materials and needed to replenish his supplies once more.

Hesitantly reaching for his white dusty coat, he throws it on himself while delving through his pocket for his keys, before carefully approaching the exit of the dark and grimy laboratory.

Or perhaps we could have a nice picnic at Windrise and watch the dandelions flutter in the breeze.

The sun’s harsh glare that peeked through the towering establishments of Mondstadt caused Albedo to wince and squint his eyes at the sight of it.

Today was especially crowded than the usual, or perhaps he simply forgot how the world once looked like before he locked himself out of it. And the longer he stayed with the multitude, the more Albedo felt like he was suffocating as he presently stood amidst the packed jam of bustling citizens.

With one swift motion, he slithered through the crowd, muttering the occasional ‘excuse me’s or incoherent apologies to people who stood in his way.

We could even spend the day cooped up in your camp at Dragonspine. Anywhere is perfect as long as it’s with you.

“Chief Alchemist…?” Flora asks in confusion, blinking once more to check if her vision had betrayed her, upon staring at the man no one had seen for a long period of time.

“I need more flowers.” Albedo hands her a leather bag filled with coins. “Cecilias, if you will.”

“A-ah, right away!” She exclaims and quickly rushes to work, still a bit weirded out to acknowledge his existence back around the streets of Mondstadt.

Albedo tapped his foot in waiting, glancing around the area to make sure no one he knew would notice him.

“I..heard about what happened.” He hears Flora say, and looks back at her, with a bunch of potted Cecilias in a crate on her desk. “I’m sorry for your loss, Albedo.”

He shakes his head rapidly, picking up the crate. “It won’t be a loss soon enough.”

Flora doubtfully nodded as she watched him walk away, wondering if he truly came up with a solution that would eventually fix his problems, or if the alchemist was simply being…delusional.

Anywhere with you…

“Albedo?”

He freezes in his spot at the voice calling from behind him.

“Is that you?”

…Albedo, I have to tell you something.

A hand reaches to clasp his shoulder, and he forcefully comes face to face with familiar purple irises and an eyepatch.

“Wow…I never thought you had it in you to leave your laboratory.” Kaeya grinned at the short man.

Albedo shoved his hand off, beginning to pace away before gathering more unwanted attention. “I’m already headed back anyway.”

“So quickly?” The blue haired man chirpily asks, following right behind him. “You’re very persistent in this new project.”

“I would have greater progress in doing so and in making my way back if you’d just turn around and leave me alone.”

Kaeya clicks his tongue playfully. “Aw come on, at least have a drink with me. We haven’t properly talked together since-“

“Finish that sentence and I’ll make sure you never speak again.”

I’ve been denying it for a while now, because I feared losing a great deal just to admit the bitter truth.

Kaeya pauses upon hearing Albedo’s cold and unfamiliar tone. Everyone had been affected upon hearing the news, but Kaeya knew deep down that the blonde had suffered the worst out of them all.

“I know you’re grieving.” He says calmly, putting his hands in his pockets. “We all are. But you can’t just ignore the truth anymore.”

“You’re wrong.” Albedo counters, a wave of foreign emotions crashing around inside him. “I’ve never ignored the truth. I simply thought beyond it.”

Now that it’s standing right in front of me, I can’t just run away anymore like I did for a long time.

“Not even the archons are capable of doing this.” Kaeya says in a fit of frustration, throwing his hands up in the air. “And you seriously believe you can make it work? What the hell makes you so different, anyway?”

“The only difference between me and all of them is that I still haven’t given up.” He says scornfully, glaring over at the man’s direction.

“Not like the rest of you.”

So this is me being brave. I’m sorry it took so long for me to say to you.

Kaeya scoffs, astounded at his resolve. He was aware Albedo was highly intelligent and completely logical, yet at this rate he was just straying away from his original path.

So this is what he chose.

He looks down with surrender, solemnly nodding at the alchemist’s pitiful answer.

“Or perhaps you just don’t know how to let go.”

I’m dying. I think I have been, for a while now.

Albedo stands alone once more in his laboratory.

Perhaps you just don’t know how to let go.

He gently sets the crate of Cecilias on the ground, and carefully walks over to his desk, rummaging through scrolls and books until he finds what he’s looking for. Albedo reaches out for it, and hesitates for a second, before picking up a picture frame that had been face down for a while now.

They say it’s a rare disease - that I can’t be cured. And that I have two months left.

It was a photograph of you smiling amidst the dandelions, your white dress billowing in the wind. He remembers it like it was yesterday, watching you goofily twirl around barefoot in a bed of grass, while he grinned and held up a camera to capture the memory of your beauty.

The sound of your laughter haunts him until this day, and Albedo can hear it echoing around the empty room, almost as if you were standing right beside him. He shuts his eyes and swallows a bile forming in his throat, feeling tears prickle in the corners of his eyes.

“Albedo.”

That’s on your birthday.

The frame slips in between his hands and crashes onto the floor with a resounding smash.

His eyes flutter open upon realizing what he had done, absentmindedly staring at the broken glass beneath his boots.

Please stop calling me, Y/N.

A little too coincidental, if you ask me.

Perhaps it’s fate reaching out to the both of us, saying that it’s finally time to stop.

Weaving through the shards of glass, he carefully plucks your photo from the mess, with blood-tainted hands. He stands back up and stares at the scattered papers and notebooks spread across his desk - a sign of grueling work he wasted months perfecting, only to realize he hadn’t even reached half of it.

Alchemy has its limits too.

He falls back onto his chair, this time unable to stop the tears from tumbling down his cheeks, and the uncontrollable sob that escaped past his lips.

My love, I know it’s hard. I can’t even imagine my life if I was the one losing you.

The tucked away flashbacks of you start to slip out from the locked part of his mind, swirling around like a tornado that had been waiting to destroy everything around it. His vision blurs and the world spins, and for a moment he swears he can see you standing across his desk, looking down with tears at his vulnerable self.

But we have to remain brave even in the face of danger.

“I love you, Albedo.” You whisper, gripping his chilly hand tightly, smiling up at his teary face.

Even if it kills us.

“Please don’t leave me, Y/N.” He says, with a traitorous crack of his voice at the end of his sentence, unable to bear the sight of you weak and helpless on your deathbed.

Even if it means we end up alone at the end of the road.

“Big Brother Albedo?”

But that will never be the case for you.

Albedo finally looks up from his desk, stunned upon seeing the hazy figure of a little girl in red standing by the entrance of his lonely laboratory.

“…Klee?”

You will never end up alone in this path.

She hesitantly remains rooted in her spot, clutching the doorknob in her little grasp. “I - Sucrose told me I wasn’t allowed to come in…” Klee nods at herself. “But I heard a crash and I ran away, to see if you…were okay.”

Am I okay?

It takes a moment for him to process her words before he nods at her, hastily wiping the tears off his cheeks and sitting up straighter.

“I miss her too.” Klee quietly says with sorrowful eyes.

“But Big Sister Y/N won’t come back anymore.”

I know.

Promise me you won’t try to save me.

It was the simple and blunt truth, yet Albedo couldn’t help but run away at the face of it.

“You can…come in if you want.” He voices hoarsely, making gestures for her to do so.

She nods doubtfully, slowly walking over to his side, carefully stepping over the glass left on the ground.

Let us accept mortality, even if it makes us lonely.

“Is that her?” Klee asks, pointing her little fingers at the slightly crumpled photo lying on his desk.

“It’s the last one I have of her.” He whispers, holding it out to let her get a better view of it.

“She looks happy…” Klee trails off, touching it gently. “I’m sure she’d want us to be happy too.”

And don’t be afraid to be happy without me again.

The sound of footsteps rushing towards the laboratory echoed around the hallways, and perks up Klee and Albedo’s ears upon hearing it.

“Klee!” The two turn to see a figure panting by the door.

“I told you…not to run away.” Sucrose huffs, leaning by the wall to gain support for her body.

“Sorry.” Klee sheepishly apologizes, guiltily rubbing the back of her head. “I just wanted to see Big Brother.”

“I’m surprised…he let you in anyway.” She remarks, raising an eyebrow at the quiet alchemist.

Because I promise I will love you until I die

He looked down, noticing an envelope stuck behind the destroyed frame. Picking it up, he examines it while letting Sucrose and Klee talk for a moment.

Flipping to the back, his eyes widen upon seeing the date and signature scribbled behind the paper.

September 13, Albedo’s birthday gift

“Is your offer…still up?” He asks, eyes flickering back and forth from your picture to the envelope in his grasp.

“What do you mean-“

“Although…perhaps it would be more fitting to have lunch now.” Albedo states, before slowly setting the possession down and glancing over at Sucrose and Klee.

“If you still don’t mind me joining you, that is.”

and even longer still.

“Of course it is!” Klee exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air. “We can make up for breakfast tomorrow, and the day after that, and for the rest of our lives!”

Albedo smiles, standing up from his chair, as Sucrose nods at the little girl’s cheery declaration.

“For the rest of our lives…that sounds lovely.”

Yours always and forever, Y/N.

P.S. I’ve attached a long list of ways on how to celebrate your birthday (and the next ones to come) with everyone else. Have fun - and more than anything, don’t be afraid to try again.

Damm girl are you a construction worker ?? Because you are building !!

𖦹 Modern au where Kaeya has a small crush on you <33

featuring: Kaeya!!!

Warnings: Fem terms are used.

A/n: Kaeya uses cringe pick up lines. It’s canon. Yeah. I wrote this on a whim so there might be a few errors sorry abt that! I just have rlly bad kaeya brain worms rn.

okay but modern kaeya is just such a fun concept. He’s barely starting his first year of uni and he has a band with some of his closest friends!!! The band was formed during seinor year of high school just cuz Childe and kaeya like the idea of being a super cool rockstar (nerds :P) oh and Diluc is in it cuz he can play bass.

Anywayzzz he works at a cafe that’s close to the university. He started working there during summer since he needs cash to pay rent for the apartment he just got. He didn’t wanna live on campus because the idea of being assigned a dorm mate and just having to get to know them freaked him the hell out!

Now don’t get him wrong. He wants to make new friends!!! He just has terrible social skills and can’t keep a conversation going properly for the life of him. He awkwardly cracks a lot of jokes to keep the conversation going even though the interaction should have ended by now but he doesn’t know how to end it so now him and the other person are just…laughing awkwardly. So he ended up becoming roomies with his best buddy o’l pal ajax!!!

The cafe he works at is super calm and quiet he loves it! He’s not too overwhelmed with his co workers either since they’re all lovely people!! He’s grown quite aquatinted with all of them to the point where they’re all comfortable teasing each other.

Moving on. Coincidentally, you’re also starting your first year at university!!! Wowww. It was the beginning of summer you stopped by the university to get some paperwork filed and you stopped by at the coffee shop. It was the afternoon, perfect time for a macchiato with lots of cold foam! Just the way you like it.

The first time you stepped in the cafe, kaeya stopped breathing. You were so???? Pretty??? Helloooo?? He was just getting bored of cleaning the tables and suddenly you walk in. Hearts are literally forming in his eyes right now as we speak! He quickly ran to the cash register. He couldn’t stop staring as he rung you up.

You were a literal goddess!!! He didn’t try to flirt or anything however. He was too star struck. Surprisingly you didn’t notice his eyes on you the whole damm time.

Anyways he rung you up and gave you your drink and that was the end of that. One time summer crush. He wished he could’ve at least tried talking to you alas, he was too distracted. He thought he’d never see you again.

He was strongly mistaken.

Once the semester began the cafe began to get so many customers. Just a bunch of sleep deprived students ordering whatever had the most caffeine. One fall afternoon however, it was pretty calm.

Too calm.

Kaeya wasn’t complaining though. The whole time him and his manger Lisa chatted before someone came into the cafe…it was you!

Kaeya thought he’d never see you again. Why do you look even more gorgeous than the first time he saw you?? Once the male saw you all the words that came out of Lisa’s mouth went in one ear and out the other.

“Can I get a caramel macchiato? Extra cold foam please!” You ordered the same thing as the last time.

Kaeya nodded. He rung you up. He was just so shocked and happy that he saw you again. He wonders if you lived nearby.

Once your order was ready you walked out the cafe. Kaeya hoped that he would see you again. If he saw you twice now then it’s possible for him to see you again right? Maybe he will try to flirt this time too! Yeah!

Next week came along and you came right back! Sadly that afternoon was pretty busy so he couldn’t really make conversation with you since there was loads of people behind you. Maybe next time….

He talked his crush on you with his bandmates. They were surprisingly encouraging about the whole thing.

“You need to talk to her!!!” The red head said as he took a sip of his Red Bull.

“Maybe something good might happen.” His brother chimed in, strumming with his bass.

The opposite could be said about his coworkers. Lisa noticed his crush on you. Ever since the day you came in the second time and he stopped paying attention to the conversation, she teased him about it.

Albedo said he needed to stop beating around the bush and actually talk to you. Lisa said that if he actually talked to you the next time you came in she would increase his pay.

Yeah he definitely needed to make a move.

You ended up coming in the following week. The day was less busy. The universe really wanted Kaeya to talk to you.

As soon as you walked in Kaeya could feel the glares of his coworkers.

He took a deep breath, not yet greeting you properly instead he said the most embarrassing shit ever.

“Damm Girl Are you a construction worker? Because you are building!”

Oh he fucked up.

Lisa and albedo both couldn’t help out but try and cover their laughs. He better be getting a raise.

What the hell was that??

You quirked a brow at him, still trying to process his words. He looked very flushed which made him cute in your eyes. You giggled and smiled at him.

“Is this the new way you greet your customers?” You asked making eye contact with the male.

Holy fuck you’re actually talking to him. And it’s not about extra cold foam!

“Something like that…yeah!” Is all Kaeya managed to muster up.

You graced his ears once more with your laugh before ordering your usual. You left the cafe after you received your order. Before you left however you managed to give the blue haired man one last soft smile before departing.

Yeah. You’re an Angel.

His coworkers soon after started laughing and teasing him after you left. He didn’t budge though. You smiled at him and laughed at his lame pick up line therefore, he wins.

𖦹 Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

Modern kaeya my beloved <33 honestly might make this a series bc there is sm I could do w a silly blue haired barista having a crush on you and trying to make you swoon. Dreamy sighzzz

Folly ✤ Scaramouche

A/N: This takes place in the same universe as 'Devilry' (aka the crackfic), where MC is the previous Sixth Harbinger dubbed as 'Mistress Fiore'.

✤ Mentions of death

✤ There's nothing wrong with indulging in dangerous follies every now and then, especially if that folly is nothing but that fascinating defector.

Words: 2.1k

Within the expanse of the temple draped in a frosty twilight gathers a handful of dignitaries, all with a single purpose; to grieve for the fallen.

Well, their grieving may be a tepid act—after all, one cannot overlook the possibility that their hearts are more bristling than mourning. The fact remains that it is still only a mere assumption, though.

Despite being... comrades in arms, not one of them truly knows what the other bears inside their chest. Aside from the obvious mutual belligerence, of course.

“Who invited the mistress here?”

The voice rises amid the frigid air, biting as though it carries frost in its tone.

Naturally, everyone's attention is piqued. It's a question that serves both to distract themselves from the loss of an ally and to ascertain the reason for the arrival of an unsought guest.

But is the aforementioned person truly uninvited?

“You wound me, can I not be present to send my own farewell to the Eighth?” you speak up with faux umbrage, stepping beyond the shadows of the pilasters.

Far from being disconcerted by the number of eyes nipping at your profile like tiny cicins, you lift your head, meeting the faces of those you previously deemed comrades. Now mere... 'acquaintances'.

“Besides, don't you think it's only expected for me to fill in the blank slot that the Balladeer left open for this moment?”

It isn't like you're going to take back the position afterward.

The knowing hum settles an air of brewing resignation, tinged with a bit of vexation that seems to come to the group naturally.

Tartaglia clicks his tongue from his place at the pews, voice amicably austere. “Calm down, it was I who invited Fiore.”

His answer dispels most of the lingering bafflement in the crowd and the ceremony carries on without delay and reluctance.

Although, you huff in disbelief. It's more of a business meeting than a funeral ceremony.

You decide not to speak against it, however, aware of your standing in the place. Instead, you've taken to observing the varying expressions on their faces. They're all so impervious as ever.

The plan not to opine fails later on though, following the ludicrous decree about the momentary pause of business and other affairs as well as Pantalone's opinion about it.

“Half a day's holiday?” you find yourself giggling, though it's crystal clear that you're far from being amused. “Careful, your gracious facade seems to be slipping, mister disingenuous mayor.”

Pulcinella crinkles his nose and adjusts his spectacles with a sigh.

“Hm, I'd rather not open my ears to the words of an ex-Harbinger. Do be content that we allowed you to stay.”

You whistle, finding no reason to deny the latter portion of his statements. It's irking how he seems to dismiss your previous rank as the Sixth and denigrate your current status, though.

As if sensing the subdued venom beginning to rise from your throat, another voice cuts in.

“Can you cease the farcical banter?” Arlecchino gives her fellow Harbinger a pointed stare, scrutiny evident in her eyes. “[Name] may no longer be in the official ranks, but she was the only one who ever sought camaraderie between you half-hearted dignitaries.”

Her concern for this shoddy, half-hearted excuse of a holiday is thus valid. Is the underlying message.

You cup your cheeks with a pleased smile, drawing out a long, grateful sigh. “My, thank you, lady Arle. Ever the justiciar.”

Her auxiliaries are anticipated, yes, but you didn't think she'd actually support you. But then again, she seems to be the only one who genuinely grieves the death of Signora. Apart from Pantalone and Pierro—and maybe even Tartaglia.

The Knave transfers her look towards you. It's nothing short of perfunctory, perhaps even a bit scunnered.

“That does not remove the fact that you are no longer one of us. You've only until the end of condolences before you are to leave.”

Of course.

“Oh, the woes of being unwanted!” you bemoan, holding your head for a melodramatic show.

You can tell that doing so has earned you a couple dirty looks and though you feel a tad awful—borderline catalyzing the enmity when again, this is no place to start a fight—you do not apologize.

Well, not to them.

It's an indecent, immoral act, but you like to believe that you're the lesser evil in the room.

With a step forward, you ascend a few inches into the air, moving past the Harbingers and hovering over the intricately gilded cenotaph. No one stops you.

Caressing the marble surface of the tomb makes you note how it's a lot colder than the atmosphere.

Unfitting for the Witch whose heart only knew how to be set ablaze.

But if you consider the Delusion she's been gifted, then it is appropriate; for a blazing heart to freeze and shatter, unable to rekindle its loving warmth.

“Looks like I am only as transient as a minute here, Rosalyne.” there is silence in the temple. Not one voice overpowers yours.

Maybe they have finally gotten self-conscious? It's funny to think that someone who is no longer a Harbinger is the first to send her farewell. What ridicule!

With a silent, single clap, you expel a breath and hum. Your time here is done—you'll have to thank Childe sometime for the official invitation.

Pierro is just about to say something- business talk, maybe. Whatever it is, it does not include you, and to be honest, you'd rather not be included, either.

You vanish into a myriad of snowflakes before anyone can raise a word, leaving only your final murmurs resonating within the temple.

“May your soul find peace in the embers of that which you burned.”

Your next destination leads you to the familiar lands of Liyue and to the terra that stretches past its borders.

The swift travel from the icy nation back to a more tropical one has depleted most if not all of your stamina, so you stayed at an inn for a little while to recuperate.

Although you do have an objective in mind, you aren't in a rush. It's safe to say that you are one step further than the Fatui Harbingers, hence the insouciance.

Besides, like some magical work of nature, you are far attuned to the presence you're seeking, so searching doesn't come off as difficult. In fact, you are able to find him merely two days after staying at Wangshu Inn.

Conspicuous even without trying to, the violets and reds of his attire are emphasized amid the drying greens of the environment. He's dwelling in discreet places, however, managing to shroud himself in the shadows and not make a sound.

Any traveler—not the blond one, though—will fail to see him. But unfortunately, he sticks out to you like a sore thumb.

“For once, you are trying to be discreet.”

The defector stills with a muted hiss, swift to register the arrival of someone as well as the lack of additional weight on his head.

His buttons are already pressed, but annoyance and genuine indifference aside, he's at least thankful that he's found by non-Fatui first.

“Mm, but the hat's still remarkably ostentatious, don't you think so?”

Not like being found by Harbingers poses that much of a problem, he'd simply fight them. That said, he's this close to flicking out his catalyst, too...

“Scaramouche.”

He doesn't, though, and decides to just humor the person who's managed to trace his steps from Inazuma.

Immediately, he meets a pair of gushed [c]s and the usual smile he's seen—unwillingly—far too many times to count. Clicking his tongue, he grumbles.

“Tsk, Fiore.”

No sort of communication has transpired between them in the past months, not after the research about the meteorites and the godawful luncheon shared between them along with Signora and Tartaglia.

So, he isn't going to lie and say that he's not surprised to see her in front of him.

'Fiore' sighs hyperbolically, the theatrical action quick to make the man roll his eyes. He expected nothing less.

She starts with a spin, showing off her apparel that although carried a few similarities from her previous Harbinger attire, looked more... liberated.

In the sense that it's unique, a style that screamed 'Fiore' instead of the nations in Teyvat.

“You misunderstand, Balladear, I'm not Fiore, but [Name]. I'm a free woman. I'm in no organizations.”

That's new, for the last time he saw her, she was still rather attached to the organization. Or perhaps that's her way of supervising him, the one who had taken her place.

He must've been scrutinizing her appearance with a silence that lacked his usual aggro—because before he knows it, the lady leans forward with a wink.

It sends a chill down his back.

“Nor in any relationships, if you catch my drift.”

Bitter Archons above-

“Get the hell out of my sight.” Scaramouche snarls with pinched brows, turning away in disgust after snagging his hat back.

He really doesn't know what else to expect of her, but he's a little relieved that she hasn't grown out of that preposterous charm of hers. Still devilishly annoying, but he's not one to talk.

Uninterested in the laughter that rings behind him, he continues his trek toward the neighboring nation of Sumeru. At the moment, there's nothing but the crucial need to get away.

An impossible thing—for the Fatui always manages to catch up, he knows that better than anyone—but that's a headache for another day.

He already has one just seeing this woman and the humid air is not helping alleviate it. Sweat is rolling down his temples and it's only the nice cover of his hat that prevents him from melting into mush under the raging sun.

A cold gust of wind blows through him, the discordant chill amid the otherwise dry area implying that it was done with the use of both a Vision and Delusion.

Perceptive as always, that girl.

“The Tsaritsa is rather upset, you know?” she calls, voice steadily growing closer.

He was about to address her use of Anemo and Cryo—maybe slot in an impossible thanks—but that's thrown out of his mind a second later.

The Tsaritsa?

Huffing, he doesn't bother stopping and facing her, wary of his growing headache 'cause damn. “Two-faced liar, so you were with them.”

“To pay respects,” the response is quick, as though his censures were foreseen. “Signora was a nice comrade. A little haughty, but nice.”

Nice. Scaramouche almost laughs. Signora, nice.

Perhaps her competency with taking the Queen's piece, yes.

But only someone with a loose screw can ever describe the pile of ash as nice, but then again, this is [Name]. If devilish isn't her middle name, then perhaps eccentric is.

“They will be coming after you. You are aware of that, aren't you?”

Exasperating works, too.

“What do you take me for? An idiot?” he finally stops, unable to hide the offense on his face as he swivels with a glare.

Is he being disparaged? Him?

The venom on his tongue is milliseconds away from coating the words he's about to convey, but he receives an answer before he can do so.

“A renegade with a bounty over his head heading to Sumeru. I hope you weren't blinded by what you sought.” [Name] answers with a shrug, her pretty [c]s fixated on the glimmer of violet peeking behind the overlays of fabric.

On the defensive, Scaramouche lifts a hand to cover the glow of the Electro Archon's Gnosis. He does this even though he's aware that [Name] has no intention of stealing it from him.

In any case, she's much more likely to steal his damned hat again.

He scoffs once more. “I'm none of your business.”

Leave me alone.

The message needn't be said when it's already so obviously implied.

Having uttered what he wanted, he resumes his pace, thinking of feasible plans for the coming few days. He has no doubts that a Harbinger is going to be sent after him.

Eyes forward, he walks with his chin tipped high, confident and unfaltering of what lies ahead. There is nothing to fear, nothing to be bewildered over.

The macabre art of war comes to him naturally and there aren't any qualms about death, he is used to such things. But if there is one thing he isn't used to, then...

“Do you have a death wish?” he halts and asks this, genuinely lost in a confusion that he won't admit out loud.

Only the sound of his feet against the terra is heard a minute ago, but he isn't oblivious to the following figure at his back, levitating as always. Nonchalant as she can possibly be.

“What you're doing is nothing but utter folly.”

Why are you still here?

He doesn't even need to turn around to see [Name] shrug. As if she isn't at all deterred by the fact that she can die if she continues to follow him.

“I know.” she answers, sounding insanely delighted.

Scaramouche clicks his tongue again.

If there's anything he isn't accustomed to, then it is the devilish [Name].

“You're mad.”

Only a giggle answers his words as he begins to walk again, making no move to stop her any longer and letting her float around him with a bunch of jests rolling past her tongue.

He's irked, but that's alright.

He's fond of pretty and exasperating devils, anyway.

a/n: mm, nothing like scara pretending not to care that mc decided to stick with him when in fact he's actually all "aw ye" about it deep down lmao

@cherryflushz @e7t3 @scarlet-halos @lordbugs @nebulaera @annoying-and-upset @hanniejji @applepi1415 @tjjjrsj @azirajane @hey-comrade-hold-stil @limelightsuperhero @chloeloe @loptido @windyventi @nejibot @ganyuqrt @justrinnn @yasunamilk @alana5021

imagine reader trying on diluc's darknight hero costume and using it to bother him for fun XD

They were bulky but that didn’t stop you from slipping your arms through the sleeves, it didn’t hold you back from buttoning the shirt that didn’t belong to you, or stop yourself from slipping into the gloves that knew only one owner. You had a plan and you were going to enact that plan, whether these clothes liked it or not. 

Spinning on your socks, you looked at yourself in the floor length mirror with a grin screaming with pride. You looked awesome, even bad ass looking you might say; you looked ridiculous. The long shirt hung over your hips and even though you weren’t the smallest thing, you still swam in his clothes. It was hard to believe he was this much bigger than you -- it’s all that muscle. Still, you were giddy, and nothing was going to take that away from you. Even if you knew how silly this whole thing was. 

The ensemble was almost finished. Lastly, you ran to the small box, fingers shaking from excitement. It made it challenging to tie the string around your hair but you didn't give up. Once it was secured, you pulled on a few strands of hair covered by the string, chuckling at how they stuck out in disarray. One last look in the mirror told you it was time, the work had been completed, the transformation finished; the Darknight Hero was ready. 

Peaking around the corners, you searched for signs of him. Of course it was only him you wanted to pester -- not to mention you’d feel embarrassed if anyone were to see you. As mentioned before, you did look rather outrageous in this attire. Smart on your part for not wearing his pants when those clearly would have fallen down your legs and made you trip. 

“Ahem,” someone’s voice drifted in from behind you and when you turned your head to see, you caught a quizzical Adelinde staring at you, arms cross and foot tapping against the thin accent rug that lined the hall. 

“Hi, Adelinde,” you chuckled as you stood a little straighter, but not much. For some reason you felt the need to stalk your way around the halls in this outfit. Maybe this was why Diluc’s back hurt. “I’m just -” She held up her hand, eyes closing as she shook her head. With an understanding and placating smile, she pointed toward the door to the study. “Hehe, thanks!” You bound toward the door like a child ready to startle their parents while Adelinde followed after you as if this were the most normal thing that could happen today. 

The door creaked when you opened it. The sound caused you to wince and worry he’d turn around to see who was there but when you looked through the crack he hadn’t moved, or at least you expected as much. As carefully as you could, you pushed your way through while your gaze stayed fixed on Diluc’s back. His thick red hair flashing in the sunlight, short-sleeved shirt straining against the arm muscles that weren’t being used to their full potential. Diluc didn’t seem to notice your approach as you crept your way along the study wall, careful not to jostle any of the books and trinkets placed on the shelves. 

It took you a little longer to reach him but once you did, you debated quickly how to surprise him. Would you tackle him, poke him and duck out from his line of sight before he could notice, call out his name and leap into his arms? Then you wondered what the Darknight Hero would do -- you knew the answer.

Once you were close enough, you crossed your arms, stood extra tall, raised your chin and spoke in a deeper voice than normal, “Don’t move or the flames of justice will take you out.” 

Diluc froze, his muscles tensing as he lifted his head and slowly, confusingly slowly, turned to face you. The reaction on his face was priceless but you held yourself together, lifting your chin a little higher to kept the façade up. “W-what are you -” 

“I am the Darknight Hero, sworn to wipe out evil. Your time has come, evildoer.” With a swift point, and an extravagant flap of the floor length cape, you started Diluc down as he came to terms with what was happening. The stages of grief flashing across his face so quickly you wondered if this was how he got through each and every day. 

“y/n --” 

“I am not this person you speak. I am the Darknight Hero,” you reiterated, voice even deeper and more altered than before. 

“Where did you even find that?” 

“In the closet. You’re not very good at hiding things,” you spoke quickly, doing your best to not break character no matter how badly the laughter threatened to bubble up. You crossed your arms to hold it in while he took several steps toward you. 

“What is the reason for this?” 

As if on que, you threw the back of your hand to your forehead and lamented on the cause, “The darkness is just so overwhelming ...”

“A-are you making fun of me?” 

“It must be vanquished.” 

“y/n.” 

Tightening your fingers into a fist, you bent forward, defeated, “I can feel it spreading. My blade isn’t enough -- ” 

“I’m leaving.” 

“No! You can’t!” you yelled and reached for his wrist before he could get away. It took all your strength to pull him back toward you which meant you didn’t have any left to stop your laughter from breaking through, or the smile on your lips from growing because of his warming cheeks. “The corruption is too much, how ever will it be cleansed?” It was so hard to hold back your fun. Even with his expression growing more and more annoyed, you couldn’t stop yourself.  

Your grip on his arm loosened, the hood partially covering your face slipped further down over your mask and you reached to fix it when Diluc’s touch made you pause. His fingers found your wrist, his heat invaded your personal space as he stepped closer and, in an instant, your laughter was silenced with a kiss.

When he pulled back, all you could see was his lips. The sight of them made your heart skip a beat; you were thankful he couldn’t see how intently you stared at them. In your daze, he slid his hands around your head and took off the mask that barely fit your face. “Ah, that’s better,” he smirked playfully, before pulling the hood off your head. 

“W-wh-you’re unmasking the hero? How bold?” Diluc pulled on the string of the cape but caught it before it hit the ground. “You have to admit I looked good in it thought.” 

“I don’t think I do.” 

“AH! Offended!” you exclaimed and watched him drape the cape over the desk chair before placing the mask on a stack of papers. When he returned, he fussed with your hair and stood closer to you than he would anyone else. 

“Is it too much for me to prefer you this way?” Diluc brushed his hands over your shoulder, his fingers followed the line of the shirt collar you stole from him until it reached the buttons, you half expected he would try to take it back too. 

“What way?” you asked, curious as always about his reasoning. 

“Someone the hero wishes to protect?” 

His earnest answer would have surprised you if you hadn’t known him for years, if you hadn’t fallen for every tiny part of who he was. On the outside he was stoic, reserved, guarded, but on the inside he was more caring than the roots that supported a tree. “Aren’t you so smooth,” you replied and ran your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, fingers dangling above his back as you leaned in to kiss his nose. “If that’s how you like me -” 

“It is.” 

“Alright,” you began, but were cut off by a. A quick but loving peck that made your heart flutter nevertheless, “but,” you continued, pulling away from him slightly, “can I still wear the cape?” The tilt of his head and the exhausted look in his eyes led you to one answer but his defeated, ‘I give up’ response of, If you wish, led you to another. “Hehe, I like you,” you beamed, arms sliding off him as you ran to the chair, flipped the cape around your neck and tied it together. 

Practically jumping in excitement, you spun around not noticing the edges of the cape running into the desk and threatening to knock several items over. With a triumphant cheer, you grabbed the fabric, flung it open and dashed out of the room. 

“I may have made a mistake,” Diluc muttered, a heavy sigh following shortly after his words, but, soon, he disregarded the thought as the sound of your gleeful laughter flooded the hall and rejuvenating his spirit -- as soulmates often do. 

Betting that if little Kazuha could read all the Ayato & Vigil!MC asks sent to you, he'd either be fighting everyone physically or sulking in a corner.

Or both. In that order JAHSHSJAAJMA

FINALLY GOT TO DRAW IT AFTER 181823018301 WEEKS GHGGHGHHG, THIS WAS FUN LOL thank you kindly for the inspo countess :weary:

Karma: Anything you say in the next thirty seconds is free. Starting right now.

Asano: I think you’re cocky. Arrogant. Bossy and pushy. You also have a god complex and don’t think of anybody but your damn self.

Karma: But I-

Asano: But what? I still have 22 seconds and I’m not done.