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Kamisato Ayato - Blog Posts
trying to be active here again...! And Thomato is the best way to start...! 🍡🧋
JUST GET MARRIED ALREADY
difficult.
pairing: kamisato ayato x reader
word count: 4.3k
synopsis: it’s no secret that kamisato ayato is a difficult man — both to handle and to please. somehow, he only gets more difficult when sick, but you find that you don’t quite mind
a/n: sequel can be found here!
If someone were to ask you what it’s like serving under the esteemed Yashiro Commissioner himself, your answer would probably be that he is a difficult man.
You’re sure that the Kanjou Commissioner and Tenryou Commissioner would agree with you — both seem as though they have a rather pointy bone to pick with your lord, and knowing him, there is probably a wide variety of reasons with how often he muses about stepping on their toes. The Guuji of the Grand Narukami Shrine seems to think the same, referring to your master as ‘that Yashiro brat’ or ‘the Kamisato rascal’, whenever you’re sent to deliver missives or letters on his behalf. Although she’s never explicitly mentioned that she’s speaking about your master, it is quite obvious that the one she’s speaking about isn’t your lady Ayaka. Still, the most prominent of all his victims, however, would be poor Thoma — the savoury mizu manju your master had tried making really hadn’t sat well with his stomach, much to no one’s surprise.
For you, however, he’s difficult for a completely different reason.
“I know I’m considered to be quite the conventionally attractive looker,” the source of your current headache says, voice breathless yet still dripping slick with honeyed amusement that makes your irritation flare, “but this is just a little inappropriate, don’t you think, my dear?”
You make a lunge for him over his desk, but he manages to evade you far too skillfully for your liking. If someone were to walk in on the two of you right now, they would surely be stunned by the sight they’re greeted with: the ever composed Yashiro Commissioner with his clothes rumpled, face flushed and collar slipping down dangerously one shoulder, while his personal aide glares at him with an expression brimming over with ire.
“It wouldn’t have to be—” you say flatly, attempting a surprise grab for his sleeve that he dodges, silk fabric slipping between your fingers, “—if you would just sit still and let me take your temperature, milord. This is hardly how any self respecting adult should be acting, let alone the head of the Kamisato Clan.”
Keep reading
AUAYAYAYAYAYAYA THIS IS LITERALLY PULLING ME THRU MY ALLERGIES ISTG
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 it 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. he relishes in your reaction, chuckling lowly.
“oh? my bad. 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, hands 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 so.
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.
...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, 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.
you jolt back to action when you realize what just happened. “your head-!” you scramble to touch his head, feeling for any bumps or even worse, blood. kazuha hisses, so you soften the touch, tracing over this body to check for other injuries. he became a literal mattress. “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. they're as soft as ever, just as pinch-able as you remember.
“i'm not hurt. it's because you're... on top of me...” bashfully, he looks away. you blink, glancing down at your position. you're straddling his hips, at a proximity entirely inappropriate.
...his hands are still on your waist.
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.)
YOU KNOW ITS GOOD WHEN IT FEELS LIKE YOU'RE READING A LITERAL DRAMA ISTG BESTIE GOT ALL THE POINTS TO MAKE A GOOD DRAMA THAT HAS BALANCED POINT AND PLOT I- 👏👏👏👏🙌🙌🙌🙌👏✨✨😩🤌✨✨✨✨✨
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.
next episode. watch here.
note. i surprised myself with how much plot this actually has.
零 ; you, the typecasted “passerby a”
the path to stardom is an arduous journey, but you've already abandoned your dreams not even halfway down the road.
you are far from the fresh newbie you once were. maybe you hoped to be famous at some point, your name sung in ardent praises and joint with stellar performances, but you've never received major roles that strayed from “classmate b” or “the protagonist's best friend” who only ever appears to give advice.
the closest you've been to getting a main character role is being part of the second pairing of a cheesy romance drama that never became a hit, a series with a generic plot and a bland cast of no name actors.
but you can't deny the spark of hope lighting your heart when you receive word of an audition for an upcoming drama adaptation of a well-loved webtoon series, a series you are an avid fan of. it's a murder mystery following a genius detective striving to solve a serial killings cold case, with snippets of romance and the occasional comedy, grim as the premise may be.
once the drama adaptation was confirmed, it quickly became a hot topic; fans are anticipating the casting and filming crew, expecting nothing less of perfection to honor the brilliant source material. by all accounts, it's big news, and snagging even a minor role would definitely earn you more recognition.
if you're chosen to act as the victim in the first murder, you would already be beyond satisfied—being part of such a masterpiece is enough to make you overjoyed. you don't have too high hopes but there's no harm in trying for the audition, right?
yes. no harm at all.
that's if you don't count the brain damage you suffered when your head slammed against the wall from complete shock as you received an e-mail from the staff confirming your admittance to the project.
as the protagonist's love interest, no less—a journalist investigating the serial murders to enact revenge on their younger brother's stead, the third victim in the killings.
一 ; xiao, the celebrity crush
acting practice is generally considered a casual affair in every project you've taken on, yet you couldn't help but spend hours trying to make yourself look presentable (and avoid looking like a beggar compared to your shining idols when you stand side by side). you may be a tad bit overdressed, but you'd hate to make a fool out of yourself on day one.
except that is exactly what you do. because you're a walking disaster.
in your defense, it's not even your fault! the moment you step foot in the venue, you're ushered by the staff to a row of waiting rooms... without any nameplates attached by the doors and no indication of where you're supposed to go. left with no other choice, you mentally count eeny meeny miny moe and surge forward for the chosen room.
you can't tell if you're tremendously lucky or the most unfortunate person on earth, but you come face to face with a person you never thought you'd see in the flesh.
the thing is, the staff never informed you of your future colleagues. the casting is a well-kept secret, even from the actors themselves, to prevent information leaks to the media before the official announcement.
you really wish you had time to prepare yourself before you had to meet xiao, though.
he's lounging by the sofa, curls of dark hair sprawled on the cushions. his face is obscured by an eye mask, fashioned in a cute design you wouldn't expect him to take an interest in at all. if you took a picture of him right now and printed them as merchandise, you're sure they'll sell like hotcakes, but a selfish part of you wants to keep this sight to yourself.
yes, because... because you've been crushing on him since forever!
you've seen his growth as an actor as far back as five years ago, when he only just started his career! he made the perfect mysterious pretty boy male lead, and the romance film he starred in was such a good classic! but he didn't get typecasted, no no. he went beyond his pretty boy persona to work in other productions, where he acted as the crazed antagonist in a horror movie. that, too, eventually became a classic film for any horror movie fan. his murderous glare is just too damn scary!
he's excellent in action-packed movies as well, there's never a need for stunt doubles with him. you've seen his behind the scene clips, and they're just awesome. he doesn't speak much in interviews, his replies clipped and hardly substantial, but you try to catch each piece of precious footage.
oh fuck i shouldn't be here. you snap back to your senses and reach for the doorknob, but the creaking sound of the door prompts xiao to twitch.
a pale hand drags down the eye mask to his chin, and his dazed golden eyes pin you in place.
“...who are you?”
it's a simple question, but it's like you're trying to prove your innocence to court. you begin to ramble, introducing yourself in a series of stutters, and explaining how you got to his room. you insist you aren't there to peep on him and it was a complete accident.
“...so you entered my room by mistake,” xiao summarizes your ten paragraphs-worth of explanation into a single concise sentence. he doesn't look angry, but doesn't look pleased by your presence either. “it's fine. i could guess the staff was too busy to show you your room.” he sits up properly, fixing his hair messy from his nap. “you're the journalist, right? i look forward to working with you.”
rather than a job, filming feels more like a reward. you get to see xiao everyday, get to talk to xiao even if it's just you commenting on the weather, get to eat with him in lunch breaks (you're seven seats away from him but that counts, right?) and get to act alongside him-
and xiao is the second male lead. you get to act romantic scenes with him. you get to act lovey-dovey with xiao in a police uniform because he's a policeman in this show.
each brush of your hands together sends your heart racing in a speed too fast to be healthy, but as an actor, you're expected to keep your composure and deliver your lines properly.
(the makeup artist is always wondering why you look so red on screen when she swears she didn't put much blush on you, though.)
“don't you need to ask something of me?”
you blink innocently as you peel off the heavy costume, the last scene for the day finally wrapped up. xiao must be feeling hot too because he's also wearing a huge coat in the middle of summer—his face is beet red.
“ask you for something...?” your cheeks burn bright. “oh no, was i too obvious?”
xiao awkwardly looks away. “you could say that.”
how mortifying! you fan your face, hoping your makeup isn't too melted. you already feel like an idiot, no need to look like one.
but xiao already thinks you're stupid. no turning back now.
“o... okay... since the cat is out of the bag, then...” you pull out a pen and a piece of paper, holding it out to him. “please give me your autograph!”
“...what.”
“i've been your fan for the last five years! i don't know who ratted me out, actually i'm about 87% sure it's childe, but since you know-”
“wait- what? five years?”
“.........if that's not what you're talking about, then what is?”
“no, i thought you wanted me to ask me ou-”
he seals his lips at the most crucial moment, horrified at himself. “sorry. i'll ask you another time.”
... and then he walks away. just like that.
“xiao, what about my autograph?!”
“forget it!”
“why all of a sudden?!”
二 ; childe, the scandal magnet
notorious for the massive number of scandals under his belt, it's a surprise to find ajax (with a stage name of childe) in the set of this major production. you're advised by your manager to steer clear of him and avoid unnecessary contact to prevent sullying your reputation, but you can't deny his acting prowess—he shines on the stage, a performance you can't tear your eyes away from.
he's incredibly versatile, capable of taking on any role and absorbing the character to make it come to life, almost as if he is its incarnation.
it starts as a simple game before actual practice, each actor asked to draw lots from pieces of paper scribbled with different roles, and given an accompanying script to base off of.
everyone laughs when childe, ironically enough, draws the “womanizer who cheats on his lover.”
unfortunately, you couldn't laugh along with them because you picked the “lover” role. your incredible (read: atrocious) luck astounds you.
it goes just about as well as everyone expects it. childe, seemingly in his element, plays the part of a perfect scumbag. it's easy to hate him like this, all flamboyant gestures and empty promises of “you are my one and only.” his performance inspires you to try harder, and so you raise your voice, your passionate screams of indignance almost sounding heart-felt, like you truly are experiencing a severe betrayal.
when childe sweeps you into his arms, whispering platitudes dripping with honey, you're nearly fooled into forgiving him.
it's hard to get yourself out of the role when the director ends the scene, satisfied with the act. childe's expression returns to its usual lazy grin, a far cry from the smug smirk prior, and he pats your head to wake you up. “nice work. i really felt like i was getting scolded by an angry girlfriend.”
dazzled by his brilliance, you barely have enough coherence to return the compliment.
your awe doubles when he performs his next act.
much to xiao's horror, he picks the “dying younger brother” role, a direct accompaniment to childe's “grieving older brother.” they make an... interesting pair, but they're also professionals, and the scene they perform almost makes you weep real tears.
xiao lays limp on the floor like a lifeless doll, and childe cradles him to his chest, delivering his lines with sobs and cries that sound too real to be an act. his heart-wrenching wails bounce from the walls, going straight to strike your heart. his voice cuts through the air, demanding your attention, as if telling you to keep your eyes on him and to never look away.
it's nothing like the sleazebag character he was playing twenty minutes ago, and you have to remind yourself your scripts are only given once you've drawn lots; he had a maximum of five minutes to read through it, process the information, decide how to deliver his lines, and visualize himself performing it in the best way possible.
like this, he doesn't look at all like the scandalous man everyone makes him out to be. he's just an earnest man who's good at pretending to be someone else.
it's terrifying to think about. did he ever act like his true self when the cameras stopped rolling, then? was he just playing the part of a “good co-worker” when he was talking to you earlier? was the whole “scandalous womanizer” image something he set up for himself? a reputation he deliberately made to attract the media's attention? it isn't unusual for actors to cause drama as a publicity stunt, after all.
no, that doesn't make sense. no matter how desperate, nobody would like bad rumors circulating about them. as much as your name is spread around, it also goes hand in hand with distasteful gossip. childe is plenty famous, even before the scandals began popping up, so he never really needed them and they would only further ruin his image...
...on the contrary, if there's anyone getting famous from those scandals, it's...
...the girls he supposedly hooked up with?
rather than making those scandals for fame, doesn't it make more sense if those girls fabricated stories and took advantage of his reputation?
it's no secret that meddlesome paparazzi and hardcore fans obsessively pry into celebrities' personal lives. if they sniff a hint of dating scandals, they don't stop digging. furthermore, once the media releases information to the public, people will take it as fact. in actuality, it doesn't matter what's true or not; what the public wants to believe becomes the “truth.”
if the people deemed it plausible, if they thought “childe would definitely do something like this, so of course if the girl says they hooked up in the dressing room, they did”...
...even if childe denied those claims, nobody would believe him. not even you. you didn't think about it until now. in fact, at the very beginning, you already had assumptions about him, devouring the media's lies.
childe laughs when you apologize to him. it was certainly a shock when you suddenly knocked on his door, then the instance he opened it, you began to bow deeply, nearly slamming your forehead to his chest.
“i'm used to it, don't worry.” he smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “you were so stiff around me, it was pretty obvious what you thought of me. but you didn't have to apologize.”
“no, i do! i was being disrespectful!” you insist, taking him by surprise when you grab the lapels of his jacket. “you're nothing like what they say! i'm sure you've been through a lot just because everyone keeps saying whatever they want, without thinking of your feelings... and everyone laughed that one time we played the acting game... i... i can't take back the time i've spent being suspicious of you, but i want to change that!” you stare directly at his widened eyes, determined. “i want to know you better, ajax!”
the use of his real name stuns him and for a moment, all he can do is gape at you.
then he narrows his eyes, his lips shaping to a firm line, and he tugs you inside the room.
a yelp unwittingly escapes your mouth when you're pressed against the door, his arms caging either side of you. his expression is unfamiliar now, unlike anything you've ever seen before; uncharacteristically stern, harsher around the edges, spiteful gaze boring holes into your skull.
“you want to know me better... some pretty words you just said. what do you actually want?”
your breath hitches when his hand caresses your cheek, but the striking glare he's giving you makes you think he wants to sink his nails deep into your skin instead.
“this isn't the first time someone tried to approach me, you know. what, you want to be friends with me? you're going to ask if i can invite you to my house? then you're going to tell people how i took advantage of you while you were sleeping?”
“what- no! of course not!” you yell, face heating up just by the thought of it. “nevermind lying to the media, i don't have the guts to sleep over a guy's house i barely even know!”
his expression falls to a deadpan. “oh. my bad. you're quite pure, aren't you. of course you wouldn't.”
“that's what makes you believe me?!”
the arms caging you falls to his sides as he walks away, leaving you dumfounded. “right, right, sorry for scaring you. can't you let me off easy? it's pretty hard to trust someone when you're in my position. if i treat you to dinner, will you forgive me?”
“i... i came here with good intentions... now i feel as though i was harassed...”
his usual smile falls on his face, like he's a completely different person from the man who trapped you just seconds prior. “what do you think about seafood? i'll let you eat as many crabs as you like. i really am sorry, promise. if you were saying the truth earlier, then i'd be glad to know you better too, [name].”
you give him a look. “...if they saw us entering a restaurant together, wouldn't that attract rumors?”
“hm? is everyone so narrow-minded they think anyone who eats together is in an illicit relationship?”
the answer is no, so you eat as much crabs and shrimp as you want to your heart's content. you're getting your food's worth for that fright he caused earlier. childe isn't complaining anyway, only impressed with how much dishes you're practically inhaling.
in any case, it isn't a date. there is no ambience or heart-pounding romance of any sort. not when you're overtly taking advantage of his money and childe's taking ugly pictures of you mid-bite.
but then, of course, the media takes note of it; the topic of your outing is brought up at an interview, to which you fret and panic because you were never popular enough to be interviewed before, and they're asking if you're fucking childe, of all things-
“what are you talking about?” childe pops up behind you, unhelpfully wrapping an arm around your shoulders as if he wants to add fuel to the fire. he chuckles, tilting your chin to lean closer to his face. “i'm just pursuing [name]. nothing's happened yet. unless [name] wants to...”
you take it back. he's definitely at fault for having this many scandals.
三 ; albedo, the male lead
the first day of rehearsals, the protagonist of the drama isn't even there.
to your astonishment, nobody complains about it. twenty minutes into practice (most scenes skipped due to the protagonist's absence), the director gets a call and excuses himself outside. less than a minute after, he informs everyone the star of the show won't be able to make it.
the actors trade unsure looks, wondering what the hell is going on, but the rest of the staff remain unfazed. the director notices and explains, “it's albedo. his busy schedule can't be helped. his manager called me to let me know his flight got delayed.”
and then it makes much more sense.
albedo is well-renowned in the film industry, an extraordinary talent who first came into showbiz three years ago. it's not at all a long time, but it's long enough for him to receive countless awards and bountiful movie offers—he was just born for the stage. if anything, this drama is lucky to have him in it, not the other way around. a late arrival for a rehearsal is nothing. he could probably disappear for two months without telling anybody and when he comes back, the director would beg him to act for the drama for twice the pay. (an exaggeration, but you get the point.)
and... you're expected to partner with him? you? a speck of dust compared to the sun that is albedo? you have to match his brilliance and not look like a turd beside him on screen? you have to be equals with him and- and you actually get to- you get to hold hands with him, kiss him, and- those couple stuff? everything? his fans would murder you if your mother doesn't kill you first! you know she likes his movies a lot!
the fourth day of rehearsals, he finally comes to the set. not with an air of arrogance or excessive pride. he just exudes confidence, strutting to the room in an elegant poise you can't hope to replicate. he gives his sincere apologies for the inconvenience to the staff, all polite bows and offer of recompense.
“but there's no reason to worry,” he declares, gaze steely. “i won't make any more trouble for you.”
he refuses when the director suggests taking it slowly and instead goes straight to practice. but it doesn't look like he needs any of it at all.
as if he's been here all along, he falls into place with the other actors, not a single awkward pause in their scripted conversations and everything smooth sailing. he delivers a flawless performance, like the cameras are already rolling and he's practiced for tens of thousands of times already, not read through a portion of the script in the car ride towards the set.
there is one thing he's struggling with, however.
“you're too stiff with each other,” the acting coach comments, frowning slightly at the two of you and cutting the scene short. “rather than bickering, it's like you're actually arguing, and that's not what we want to portray.”
you blink, exchanging a look with albedo, and look down at his collar you're still gripping.
maybe you do look like you're trying to strangle him instead of pulling him closer to your face for some good ol' sexual tension.
originally, the characters you play didn't get along well in the beginning of the webtoon; the genius detective didn't like to rely on others, conceited enough to believe he can solve the case on his own, hence seeing the journalist as a hindrance since they kept pestering him to let them help him, and he help them in turn so they could work together. the detective didn't deem them “useful” for the investigation, and it was only much later that he (begrudgingly) admitted the journalist can be helpful... sometimes. thus officially starting their partnership for the investigation, and later on, partners in the romantic sense.
there were quite a lot of bickering scenes before the actual romance commenced, and you're struggling with finding a delicate balance to that—where exactly do you draw the line between petty squabbles and severe disputes? how do you show the chemistry between these two characters while butting heads in every instance? the enemies to lovers trope is harder to act than it seems.
“try to get familiar,” the director suggests. “you're stiff because you don't know each other well. you're too shy to touch or get closer. why not leave early and go on a little date by yourselves to fix that?”
“is that really okay...?” you say, unsure. besides being hesitant to leave earlier than the rest, you're also nervous to be alone with your co-actor.
“if he says it's fine, then it's fine.” albedo shrugs, starting to walk towards the dressing room and tugging you along. “but if we're going outside, we should wear disguises. it's also fine if we borrow some of your clothes, right?”
“of course, of course~” the director indulges him. “have fun, kiddos.”
as it turns out, albedo is a master of disguise. he doesn't even have a wig or anything but you almost can't recognize him clad in casual attire. he also almost looks like a stylist while figuring out what outfit to give you, and you're left in awe when you look at yourself in the mirror wearing clothes you wouldn't normally pick out yourself but they look really, really good on you, and they do a good job changing your image too. not that you think anybody would recognize you anyway, unpopular and all.
“where do you want to go?” you trail after him on the way to the bus station, always a step or two behind. albedo makes a humming noise, subtly slowing his pace to match your strides.
“why not just go wherever our feet takes us?” he pipes up. “as long as it's not teeming with people, of course.”
so with zero preparation at all, you do just that. you stop by a bookstore, with you showing him around the comics section and him adamantly insisting the plain hard-cover literature he's picking up is a thrilling epic that will definitely pique your interest, [name] stop yawning-
you pay a visit to the arcade, where you find albedo is clumsy with his feet and can't play dance dance revolution to save his life, but also unnecessarily adept with claw machines because he has a little sister who loves getting stuffed toys. you compete over who gets the most points in the basketball game to decide who pays for dinner, end up in a tie, and move on to a zombie shooting game. you win by a narrow margin and albedo tells you so, but you point a finger at the results and tell him to cough up the cash. then you play around in the photo booth using the craziest filters, and you take the liberty of pasting stickers everywhere.
dinner is a simple affair. albedo looks ready to go to some michelin star establishment but you introduce him to a sushi restaurant that's relatively cheap. he's impressed by the way you swipe at the conveyor belt so quickly. okay, so you may look like an utter glutton right now, but it's fine. not the first time you embarrassed yourself in front of a co-actor.
lastly, you stop by an ice cream shop to get gelato. your appetite is “awe-inspiring,” as albedo put it, but you argue there's always room for dessert.
“will this actually help us, though...?” you sigh, eating a spoonful of gelato. “i don't understand the difference between bickering and arguing.”
“we've done it the whole day,” albedo reminds you, using a tissue to clean the residue of cream on your cheek. “we'll do just fine.”
you stare at him in disbelief. “...is this also one of your habits from taking care of your sister?”
“ah. you could say that.”
just as albedo said, filming goes a lot more smoothly. the playful air is a huge improvement compared to last time when they said you looked ready to beat him to submission. the romantic tidbits are coming along well, too, spun between action-packed scenes where you're pressed against albedo in a slim locker to hide from the murderer lurking nearby or sweet slice of life moments outside of the investigation.
at last, the confession scene is upon you. just a while back, the two main characters got into a full-blown argument; the detective was irritated by the lack of progress in the investigation, and deduced his feelings were distracting him. he decided to keep the journalist at arm's length, never allowing them to go close. of course, they didn't react well to this, and so they pester him again, but the argument became heated and it eventually peaked to “you're an inconvenience to me!” which led them to separate ways.
the journalist, desperate to solve the case on their own, approached people who seemed to be in the know. they were nearly pulled into bed by an attractive yet suspicious man, who's genuinely interested in the journalist romantically and used intel on their younger brother's murder as leverage, but they get interrupted by the detective pounding on the door.
he dragged the journalist out, thoroughly upset at the notion of selling themself, but they deny the accusations and claim they were tricked.
the argument stretched longer, the both of them airing out everything they dislike about the other, but the detective accidentally slipped and confessed his real feelings. the journalist, who never thought of him that way, was frozen on the spot.
it's a long scene requiring much preparation. aside from the amount of lines you have to memorize, there's also a hotel suite you have to borrow for the shoot, the cameras they need to set for the “dragging” scene that has a lot of movement, the really awkward half-bedroom scene you have to act with your co-actor, and the fact that you have to take the confession scene before the sun completely set.
it's truly a busy day. anxiety plagued you the moment you came out of the makeup room, knowing what comes next.
but it's a job, and one especially you couldn't afford to slack on. the kind-of-but-not-really-bedroom scene goes without a hitch, but albedo interrupts you a tad bit too early; the top of your shirt is barely unbuttoned but he's already storming in, ripping you out of the other man's grasp.
the director doesn't chide him for it however, and he drags you out of the hotel as planned. you're a bit frazzled by the suddenness of it all, clothes still rumpled, but it adds on to your acting and your stuttering questions make the scene look more natural.
albedo's fury seeing you in such a disheveled state seems almost genuine, too.
“why are you acting like this?!” you pull your wrist away in an effort to make him let go, as described in the script, but albedo refuses to. an improvisation, perhaps? but now of all times...? “you didn't care about me before! are you trying to be nice now? didn't you say you were sick of putting up with me? you hated me for being stupid, right? guess what, then! i was stupid enough to get almost taken advantage of! if you're just going to lecture me, let go. i don't want to hear any of it. i already know how much of a fool i am.”
you're supposed to back away now, but he doesn't let you do that either. for one step backward, he takes two forward, nose nearly brushing with yours in the close proximity. your face heats up in a combination of confusion and embarrassment, your ears barely registering his lines.
“...never listen to me. you always go off on your own and i still think you're a reckless idiot. you're noisy and brash and you annoy me to no end,” he says in one breath, staring deeply into your eyes. “but seeing you with someone else annoys me even more. to the point i'd abandon everything just to get you back.”
“w...” your throat is incredibly dry. “why would you...”
“whether i like it or not, you've become important to me. i love your stupid laugh and your stupid smile. i love the way you look at me, and i don't want you to look at anyone else. you drive me crazy when you put yourself in danger because i don't want to lose you. i want you so badly that i want you to only think about me, spend time only with me, only love me. i-”
you're fairly certain this is nowhere near his lines in the script.
“i love you so much that it scares me.” his voice trembles as his hand lifts to cup your face, something that finally bears semblance to the original scene. “it was wrong of me to say those horrible things. not just last time. i've been terrible to you, and no amount of apologies can make up for it. but i ask only one more chance.”
his finger hovers at the corner of your lip.
“[name], won't you only look at me?”
you gape like a fish out of water, unable to reply. you're trying to remember your lines, flipping through the mental script in your head, but the director's “cut!” pulls you back to reality.
albedo blinks, getting himself out of the role, and he lets go of you reluctantly, the heat of his fingers lingering on your skin.
“the scene was good, but you said the wrong name.” the director laughs. “it's alright. we can still shoot where we last left off. return to your positions.”
as told, you go back to your previous position. you give a furtive glance at albedo, whose cheeks flare in humiliation. he's probably never done such a rookie mistake before. there's no reason to be that flustered about it; you've made the same error plenty of times.
“i apologize. i won't do it again next time.”
(if he's going to confess, the least he can do is make his own lines for the occasion.)
next episode ; watch here. preview →
四 ; ayato, the cannon fodder
五 ; scaramouche, the best friend
六 ; thoma, the former male lead
七 ; kazuha, ???
A Good Nights Rest
word count: 785
genre: fluff, slice of life
pairings: Ayato x gn! reader
warnings: none
additional notes: here’s the first of m a n y Ayato oneshots, I love him so much so I will definitely write abt him a lot. If you have any suggestions or you have anything you would like me to write don't be afraid to send me an ask !!
Want to be tagged in my works click here
The pink and oranges that paint the sky fade into the purple of the nation of eternity. The fan you hold hides the bottom half of your face, leaving those around you to have to guess what you are thinking. As you walk through the main square of Inazuma, you catch sight of a specific stand that holds your lover's favorite drink.
You take a slight detour from your previous destination, heading toward the stand you and your husband frequent. The stand owner recognizes you almost immediately, giving you a smile before making your order. You make small talk as he does, before placing the correct amount of mora on the table. Grabbing the drinks, you send the stand owner one last smile.
You walk your way through Inazuma, toward the Estate you had been away from the entire day. The sky has darkened at this point, fireflies starting to light the way along with the many glowing plants that populate the nation. You enjoy the scenery as you walk, allowing you to mentally plan an outing for you and your husband. The gates and guards of the Kamisato estate slowly become visible, causing you to speed up a little.
You pass the guards with a tilt of the head, allowing a smile to stretch your lips. You haven’t seen your husband all day, and you were craving the warmth he holds. The door to the estate is quickly pulled open as you approach, Thoma standing there with his usual smile.
“Good evening! How was your day in the city,” he questions, continuing to sweep the entranceway as you chat. “My day was good Thoma, there should be a few things that are shipped here tomorrow so please be on the lookout for that.” “Of course!” “Also, after you finish sweeping the entryway, you are excused for the night. I can take care of Lord Kamisato from here,” You send him a charming smile.
He nods and smiles at you as well. You quickly toe your shoes off then continue your way through the maze of an estate. The door to your lover’s office finally comes into view, it has probably only been opened a few times for Thoma to drop off tea or a meal for him. You quickly maneuver the drinks in your hands to make it possible to open the door.
The opening of the door doesn’t alert your husband of your entrance and neither does the placing of the drinks on the desk. You walk behind him, quickly lacing your arms over his shoulders from behind, surprising him enough to quickly whip his head toward your own. Once he sees you, his once tense shoulders soften, a charming smile curving his lips upward. The mole underneath his lower lip moving with the curve of his lip, making the smile all the more gorgeous.
He notices the staring and his once charming smile quickly shifts into a sly smirk. He raises his head a little, his nose brushing against yours causing your face to flush the slightest bit. Even after being married to the man, the smallest things he does still affect you. Your own smile doesn’t dim in the slightest while you lean in the final inch to connect your lips.
The feeling of what could be compared to butterflies erupts in your stomach as he tilts his head a little. Your eyes flutter close as the kiss continues. He leans back slightly before laying his forehead against yours. He chuckles slightly as your eyes open to meet with his icy ones. “Welcome home honey,” his smile stays in place as he says these words. “It is late, you should continue on your way to our chambers to get the optimal amount of sleep.” He places a chaste peck to your cheek before turning to continue his work.
You sigh slightly, making Ayato shiver slightly at the sensation, before your hand grips his chin. His wide eyes meet your calm ones as you turn his head toward you, “as you said sweetheart, we should continue to our chamber to get the optimal amount of sleep.” The emotion behind your eyes glints playfully as you slowly start to remove yourself from him.
“It has been so long since I've fallen asleep beside my husband, I do hope he knows what he’s doing my heart,” you tease, walking away from him and toward the door. He chuckles while watching you disappear into the hallway, before grabbing another document to scan over in the candlelight. Your head pops up from behind the door and he looks up to find you smirking at him.
“Come on casanova, it's time for you to go to sleep.”
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