now you hang from my lips like the gardens of babylon. with your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con.
welcome to inviridescent, your local genshin blog! please read my navigation linked below; it contains all the important stuff such as my links and tags, the general info, and some byf/dni. note that replies and interactions come from lovkuzu since this is only a sideblog. however, please feel free to interact!
💮 draft count : 10 ✦ about this blog ✦ icon and header credit strayuu
recently : antiscian
aaaaa could you do cuddles with xiao?? I love all your xiao stuff so much
wen's note: shdjdhsj thank you!! i do my best for our dear yaksha and im sorry for answering this late! life got a bit busy and hectic (｡•́︿•̀｡)
cw: slight angst on canon xiao, otherwise not too much warnings!
this could go in two ways . . .
canon! xiao has something holding him back and it is the karma he has earned across his millennia of living. subjected to nightmares and screams of the dead every minute of the day, he doesn't want to pass it off to you and potentially harm the one great feeling he so deeply treasures.
but sometimes, it gets hard to shake off the torment. on days xiao finds himself on his knees due to the extreme torment, his arms are wrapped around your body as he shivers from pain. the medicine does little on days like these, but your warmth allows a bit of respite from all the sensations he is feeling.
when fate pities him so, xiao is able to lay by your side at midnight and cradles your head in his hand while the other is by your waist. soft breathing by his neck and his hands fiddling with stray strands of your hair, this allows xiao to kiss your forehead and he reflects on the love you both share. these moments are one of the rare moments he feels tears prick at his eyes not from pain, but from immense gratitude for you.
on days when you wish for comfort due to stress, xiao gently lays you on bed and positions your body so you can lean your entire weight on him. it makes you lay almost entirely on top of him, but feeling his hands run across your back makes you really sleepy. a nice afternoon nap with him cuddling is always a welcome thing.
however . . .
modern! xiao is an absolute cuddle monster when you're both away from prying eyes and when he feels incredibly drowsy. when his social battery is drained, xiao stands behind you and lays his head on your shoulders while playfully biting it.
this wasn't the case when you first started dating as xiao didn't want to cross any unspoken boundary on this new relationship. so the first nights you slept together, he would stare straight into your face as a silent query for permission. xiao gets nothing but a giggle from you and your arms outstretched lazily. he would then wiggle himself closer, and cling to you all night like a koala with no chance of escape.
on days he feels down and extremely tired, xiao isn't afraid of unceremoniously flopping his entire weight onto you while you complain that he's heavy. you can't really scold him seriously because his true gentleness shines when he is weighed down by stressors and his own drowsiness. he all but drags you to bed, away from whatever you were doing to just cuddle you all night. your guilt for skipping work is weighed down by his cheeks just squeezed by your close proximity.
when it is you who is weighed down, xiao treats you just as you do him. except, his cuddles come with many a kisses and often some bashful words of compliments and comfort. telling you that whatever you have done for the day, you did with the best you had and that you shouldn't treat yourself too harshly. xiao wishes that you'll see yourself the way he does as kisses you to sleep.
taglist (is open! just send me an ask!): @scaramew @snow-mountain
info/warnings: kaedehara kazuha x gn!reader, no warnings besides kissing, established relationship, not beta read, probably garbage
synopsis: kazuha steals away in the night to visit you, who he has left in yoimiya’s care while you both avoid the vision hunt decree
note: finished this before work today… the first half is much better than the second half but it’s something so i hope everyone likes it okay. also the title is melodramatic because i always just do the first thing that pops in my head with these
A soft tap against the wall you leaned on snagged you from your drowsiness, and you lethargically stirred, the blanket strewn across your lap rustling with the movement. The window above you cast a tile-like shadow onto the tatami, carving through the silver moonlight, and when you sat up, it pooled across your fingertips.
The light taps repeated, and suddenly, you were much more awake, a pit of nervousness stirring in your chest. The Sakoku Decree? Were they finally here for you? After all this time?
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you glanced at the nearby door, weighing your options before you heard a quaint voice from the other side of the wall.
“It’s me, Kazuha. I didn’t mean to frighten you, my love.” The muffled, melodic lulls of his vowels and the coo at the end of the sentence had your heart soaring, and you sprung from your spot, peeking your eyes over the windowsill and meeting a pair of burning ruby ones, crinkled with a fond smile.
“Kazuha,” You breathed, tasting his name on your tongue, frozen in time before jolting into motion, fumbling with the latches on the window and practically throwing it open. He was inside in an instant, reaching for your hands and splattering kisses across your fingertips, lovely eyes indulging in every feature you beheld. There was some urgency in his searching gaze, scouring over every crevice of your form.
“How have you been fairing?” He murmured, “I prayed the wind would inform me of your well-being, but there is only so much searching nature’s gaze can do. From so far, I am only left to wonder.” His right hand slipped from your palm to your jaw, cupping the bone and tilting your face to admire from all angles before he relaxed, stroking your cheek delicately.
Weak. You were always weak to him, and he softened when you leaned into his touch.
“I’ve missed you,” You started, voice barely a breath. “But why are you here? I worry for you. What if they find you?” There was a coy smile in his voice when he responded, shifting to pinch your chin and shake your head playfully.
“I’ve evaded the Kujou clan once, have I not? I have quite a few tricks up my sleeve even you, my love, are not aware of.” Tears jumped to your lashline at his positive demeanor, and as you titled your head with a melancholy smile, Kazuha mirrored your motion. A moment of silence, and you were collapsing into his chest, arms settling around his waist, his tangled in your hair, another around your back.
“Have you been safe?” You breathed into his chest, feeling his heart thump methodically. His lips were pressed to your hair as he responded, holding you tight as if he could never touch you again.
“As safe as one can when living as a wanted man. You needn’t worry.” He treated you like fine china, brushing his fingers across your body like a paintbrush on a canvas. “And you? Yoimiya has kept you hidden well.” Uncurling your fingers from behind his back, you rested your palms on his chest, peeking up through your lashes at his fond gaze, fear lingering behind the elation.
✦ antiscian – “whose shadows at noon are cast in opposite directions.”
“why are you calling, ‘bedo?”
aforementioned person rolls his eyes through the phone, setting up his own to give you a clear view of him and his dim room, “what, am i not allowed to call the one i love now?”
“it’s around three in the morning in yours,” you reply.
“you know me and my sleeping habits. it’s harder to sleep now, since you aren’t here. it’s too quiet.” funny, since you think the same.
ever since albedo flew to the other side of the world for a convention, you found the apartment you shared with him too... soundless; too void of life. you missed the ambience he brings, and his small hums while he works, and his small cactus (that he brought along with him – “something to remember you by!” “you sound like i’m going to disappear” – as unconventional as it is), every little thing you can see him in. home without albedo does not feel like home.
“love? are you okay?” he eyes you with concern while jotting something down in his notebook. busy as ever, you think.
you sigh, disapproving of his decision to continue his work. “go to sleep, ‘bedo. i’m sure you should be early tomorrow, well, today, in your case.”
he frowns, “you didn’t answer my question.”
no, you want to answer. no, i’m not okay. because i miss you, and you’re on the other side of the world. you’re too out of my reach sometimes that it makes me question, truly, are you even real? even with the world in your fingertips, how can i still be able to call you mine?
sometimes, i feel bad for asking too much. “i’m fine, love. go to sleep.”
“you do know that i’ll drop anything for you,” albedo whispers. neither of you know why he says it so quietly – but you could only focus on what he says, and that he knows, and still chooses to be patient with you. you try not to break down.
“i miss you, albedo,” you breathe with a shaky sigh. “come back quickly.”
he smiles softly, “then, wait for me, my love.”
note: projecting except i dont actually have a long distance relationship bc i dont have an s/o and im also delusional
pairing: xiao x gn!reader
genres: fluff, angst
warnings: mentions of dea//th
word count: 1k
it is when you’re young and reckless that you decide to wander into the woods. you realize it was a bad, bad, bad idea as the day starts to fade and you can’t see the path anymore. and then you regret not listening to the elders, they always told you to stray away from the forest, that a folk lives there, a folk who is not kind to humans. a folk who is capable of hurting you without even a sense of sympathy.
the night breeze is chilling and it seems like as if the stars will fall. there’s a faint light coming from somewhere, so you decide to follow after it but even after all the walking, you can’t find the way back home. it’s exhausting; your feet hurt, your knees are bleeding, you feel like crying and all you want to do is lay on your warm bed. and there’s this constant rustling as if there was something within the wilderness which keeps you wondering if there’s danger lurking around you.
memento mori / levi ( attack on titan )
( EVERY VERSION OF THE STORY ENDS WITH YOU BEING SLAUGHTERED. )
a/n: quote by tory adkisson
ONE : IN YOUR WINGS THERE IS HORROR FOUND, THE LINING OF CRIMSON FEATHERS TARNISHED WITH BRUTALITY AND APPARITIONS AND HAUNTENINGS. rust coats your tongue, brutal, invades the senses when the bitterness falls from bloodied lips.
coward. coward. coward coward coward COWARD.
your hands quiver, seek purchase in the sensation of cold steel against flesh. oh, love, how they ache, calloused and scarred from the aftermath of combat. your fingers wrap around the battle gear, attempt to find stability in something-- to ground yourself to reality, make yourself known and real and present through the acknowledgement that you can touch your surroundings, leave your presence through the imprint of your existence.
you wonder if your next expedition will be your last. you always do.
you think you are ready for this ; you think you can prepare yourself for the worst, brace yourself for pain and sacrifice endured, steel the heart to protect what little of it is left from the deaths you will witness. but you can't. you never can.
YOU ARE HUMAN, AFTER ALL. you cling to the thought of that, try to save yourself from drowning in the madness they call despair. ( to be both human and a survivor in an everlasting war is an oxymoron in itself : impossible, unachievable, and surely you know this by now, don't you? )
but you are a soldier first and foremost, and to struggle in the battle against fear is to succumb to selfishness, to wave a white flag and admit defeat before you have truly even fought.
beyond the walls there is devastation, death, & doom. the encounter of horrid creatures, the tearing of limbs, the screams that pierce your ears. beyond the walls is what follows you inside the comfort of your home, and beyond the walls is what follows you into your nightmares.
the door creaks behind you. your hands are aching. you turn, see levi standing at your doorway. his expression is indecipherable as always, but you smile nonetheless ; it is hollow and born from hopelessness.
"captain," you speak up, and how silly that you almost think you will drown in the tears that refuse to fall, "i don't want to die."
he does not speak.
in silence, you mourn together.
TWO : so they'll say the grass is meant to be greener on the other side, that it'll flourish and bloom in the presence of flowers and vegetation alike. you grimace, your limbs exhausted, bruises and fresh injuries serving as a reminder of pain. you stare out into the distance, observe your surroundings.
instead of green there is red, the grass stained with the blood of comrades you cherished. numbness overtakes you, and to what extent does grief accompany it? you are unsure. but you think you should be feeling something more.
your chest is heavy, feels like you can't breathe. you keep looking, anyway.
your allies rest nearby, countenance made of anger and agony and anguish. knees hugged to their chest, solemn and quiet tears that make their bodies tremble until their muscles scream in protest.
( you think you should be feeling something more. you think you should. )
something tells you to stop-- tell them it's alright, it's over for now, but the truth is that none of those words will matter. a temporary consolation can only work for so long, and everyone has already reached their breaking point. it wouldn't mean anything, not anymore. so you keep your mouth shut, continue to walk forward in a mindless trance until you come face to face with humanity's strongest.
there is blood smeared across your cheek. your shoulders hang low, exhaustion settled deep on your features. how different things are now, levi thinks -- he recalls your first expedition-- how your hands wrung together with anxiety, your body tense, your gaze wandering as if an ambush could come at any time.
now, before him, he sees nothing. you are unrecognizable.
( you know this, too. you look in the mirror, see nothing but vacancies in a self-deprecating reflection of who you once were. )
"did you survive?"
the words ring apathetic, but somewhere in them, there is a brewing disquiet.
you smile, but it does not meet your eyes.
"i don't know, levi."
THREE : you used to love and hate returning home. home meant returning to the comfort of your bed, returning to safety-- returning to a semblance of normality in this shitty life. but returning home also meant returning to hatred, suffering, and the angry and remorseful cries of the civilians. you don't know where their loved one went. you don't know why that child's father died-- did he die in vain? did you find remnants of his being? did you see her? did she tell you how she was going to come home to her younger siblings?
you tread forth, ignore the resentful tones that carry too much weight. it's not heavy, not anymore, but something still is, you suppose. you just don't know what. you can't feel it, either way, so you choose to not think about it. it's easier this way.
levi looks at you, recognizes that feeling that sends a longing in the ravages of a tattered heart. he knows this feeling : the acknowledgement of yet another loss of someone he cherished, the knowing that you are too far gone, the seldom acceptance of yet another fallen.
he doesn't want to know. he doesn't want to feel this, doesn't want to understand this -- but he can't tear his eyes away -- and why-- why does his chest tighten and hurt when you meet his gaze?
you try to smile again, worn from the throes of survivalism, but it only leads to more heartbreak.
( LOOK INTO THE MIRROR, LOVE. ARE YOU THERE? ARE YOU? WHERE HAVE YOU GONE? )
— to a soulmate i have never met; kazuha + fluff, minor angst
— i knew i’d curse you for the longest time; xiao + angst
— antiscian; albedo + comfort, fluff
✦ multiple, headcanons
[O1.] be my only one + albedo, kazuha, xiao
[O2.] dedicated to you, from this stage + childe, kazuha, albedo, xiao, scaramouche
DEDICATED TO YOU, FROM THIS STAGE
with kazuha, scaramouche, albedo, childe
them as lyrics from given’s ‘gift’ album
warnings fluff and angst, not actually unrequited love, mentions of violence and death, some annoying repetitive phrases but that’s just how i write, albedo kisses u, cursing in albedo’s part
[ 💭] my eyes are literally drooping while writing this .... will fix any mistakes tom </3
❝ WHAT ABOUT AN UMBRELLA? I KEEP HOLDING ONE, SO LE’TS GET UNDER IT TOGETHER ❞
“it would be easier for you to hate me,” kazuha sighs, but he already knows that you are stubborn — to which is something he isn’t sure he’d appreciate now. you wrap his bandages a little too tight in retaliation, frustration seeping through your actions. you redo it when you see him flinch. “i can never bring myself to hate you for something you have no control over,” you mumble, voice akin to cotton in his ears, yet sharp and unwavering in the storm that he brings. “and it would be easier if you relied on me,” your tone was not accusatory, but kazuha wishes it was. he knows this is not a fairytale, not when he has blood in his hands (and he is staining your fingertips), and not with the bounty over his head. this is not a fairytale, but you find yourself kissing his bloodstained hands, holding them as you would a crystalfly. “i love you, kazuha. i want us both to live.” and while kazuha knows that this is not a fairytale, this is still your story, and he is determined to make it end right.
❝ EVEN IF I CAN’T BE LOVED, I STILL WANT TO BE WITH YOU ❞
you do not know me that way, and i am glad. scaramouche will never know what to do with himself if you’d ever find out he was associated with the fatui, much less one of their higher-ranked (he also does not know he so much fusses over that). in an alternative universe where you did know, all he could think of is how he will never be able to escape this connection; how he will still be the balladeer, but now for one more person, and he will no longer be kunikuzushi. (he doesn’t want you to stop calling him that; he wishes you’d put more kuni in this world, and not scaramouche). daydream-dressed overthinking can only get you so far — for now, kunikuzushi will indulge himself in your blissful ignorance (and he would much rather keep it that way.)
❝ JUST LIKE THE SHADE OF SNOW THAT HASN’T COMPLETELY MELTED, I CARRY ON WITH THESE FEELINGS INSIDE ME ❞
“you do realize that we could never be friends,” the sudden rigidity in your shoulders alarms albedo, and he instantly curses himself for saying that with misleading implications. “fuck, no — i meant that... that there would be no way that there’s no going back,” he sighs, unsure on how he would proceed. he has always prided himself in being an articulate and logical person, but it all went out the window when it’s you. you heave a sigh of relief, understanding albedo’s intentions. “it’s fine ’bedo — you surprised me, is all,” but. it is left unsaid, and albedo can see your hesitance. but what? what could you possibly want from him when he has already laid bare his heart, only for you, in a silver platter? “but what?” you meet his questioning eyes, stars shining in unshed hope. do you want to go further in? do you want to go back? “archons, albedo, i don’t think i truly understand what you meant—” and his lips are softly pressing on yours, gentle hands intertwining themselves in your hair. it physically hurts albedo to pull away to let you breathe, but when he does, he all but murmurs into your lips, “i hope you’d be able to understand, now.”
❝ WHAT ABOUT US? I WONDER IF WE CAN LIVE AS GOOD “PEOPLE” .. WHAT ABOUT US? I WONDER IF WE CAN LIVE OUR “LIVES” TOGETHER ❞
you feel indifferent about your line of work. you hate it when it is childe’s. neither of you are good people, not when you are mere pawns in a battlefield of bishops and queens in the grand scheme of things, but you like to think that neither of you are bad either. still, you find it unfair to be stripped of the one thing keeping you grounded. you find it unfair that, while they claim that nothing is ever in vain, you would mourn over every loss because death is inevitable, but you wish they died in a different way. you are not good people; your line of work is risky, and so is ajax’s, but you will wait for the day where you are able to freely act as if the world is on an impasse (only you and him mattered, after all) and to hold his hand because you’re good people, and there is nothing to worry about.
oooo can you do ' you can have my heart if you have the stomach to take it ' ( aleksandra waliszewska ) with kaeya, thank you in advanced!
THE FALL / kaeya alberich ( genshin impact )
( YOU CAN HAVE MY HEART IF YOU HAVE THE STOMACH TO TAKE IT. )
a/n: prompt post ( x ). quote by aleksandra waliszewska
DECREPIT IS THE CORE OF HIS HUMANITY, THIS WOLF AMONG SHEEP. kaeya alberich reeks of holiness & false deifications ; upon his throne there is an unwanted solitude that rests heavy on the crown he bears. he is the show runner in this bloodied theater, the stage drowned in kerosene and bathed in darkness as crimson curtains come to a close.
he is both monster & man, origins and intentions unknown. somewhere in the shreds of a soul renounced lies gold in the sinews of a love cherished. such love is difficult to keep, and how tenderly does it fall from your lips with each kiss you leave against his skin. ( and he shouldn't hold onto it, your love. it's not his to have, but he'll keep it anyway, drown in the sensations of what selfishness means. )
"you play a dangerous game," kaeya murmurs against your knuckles, butterfly kisses trailing along your hands in worship, "capturing my heart like this." he grins. "there are better choices out there, you know."
you tremble under his touch.
"i only want you, though." you whisper, breathless -- almost afraid. intimidated. entranced by the elegance in the way he carries himself in front of you. "it's always been you, kaeya."
there is something terrifying that brews in the beings in his heart -- something that feels too much like love, something that feels too much like betrayal, and something that almost resembles a petrifying ache in the wanting. but there is something, too, that lingers beyond the mist : the undeserving of it all and the fear that you are too good to witness the corruption that hides in the marrows of his bones.
"kaeya alberich." his name falls off the tip of your tongue in warm tones as you pull your hands away from his face, instead using your fingers to trace the apples of his cheeks. heavenly is the smile that falls on your lips, and for a moment, kaeya forgets the buried past that echoes in his footsteps. "may i have your heart?"
you wait, watch as hesitation threatens to break his facade. it cracks -- barely visible, but known and seen. your lips remain sealed, patient as he searches the depths of oneself to understand what he truly wants.
kaeya remembers warm memories ever so fondly. how time passes quickly when you surrender to grief, and how lonely it is, to spend a lifetime in guarded isolation. perhaps this can be a new beginning, an awakening : a happiness that he can obtain and keep for himself.
he places his hand over yours, guides it to his chest. there is a heart beneath it all : the rage, regret, horrors, and a sorrow unspoken. how beautiful that yours beats in time with his. may it always stay this way, he hopes, lips curling in faint happiness as he kisses you.
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.)
inviridescent is a sfw writing blog for genshin (and hopefully more fandoms in the future), that is maintained by a kazuxiao (+ scara) kisser.
behind the scenes ; juu / amos, whichever you prefer, +63 and a minor who is a stem student who wants to dropout and an undercover (bff the cover is blown) short people enthusiast. lives for validation.
things to note ; i do not take requests. sfw only. constantly inactive (rbs a fic, drops some writing, then disappears from the face of the earth). has a very clear favoritism for the short people ... you know when you know. replies and interactions come from lovkuzu since this is only a sideblog. feel free to interact with me though!
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the first time xiao learns of heartbreak is when he realizes that he hated the feeling of winter not only on his skin, but on the burning of his lungs and the ache on his heart.
he longs to reminisce on days where winter was simply kissing your fingertips as you rub his hands to chase off the cold, or when it was the decorations you chose to keep hanging on every inch his small room in the inn could provide, much to his forced annoyance.
winter now was hating how your eyes drooped (he loved it on nights where you were half asleep, and clearly not awaiting on death’s door) and —
“my love,” you breathe.
— hating how breathless you seemed (it’s the paralyzing feeling over thinking that every breathe could be your last). it was hating how he had lost himself on the feeling of falling, only to wake up on the bone crush.
it’s hard seeing xiao like this: already grieving for a love he is yet to lose, and mourning over a future you both cannot have, all because you were pulled along on fate’s cruel hands. you both know he has no control on it whatsoever, yet he still beats himself up for it.
the only thing you ask for him is to hold your hand. he complies without fail, relishing in the few moments you both have. in this fast-paced world, where every moment is worth gold, a silent goodbye is shared for the last time. but for now, he is just xiao, and you are only you, and he is holding your hand (and he always wishes to have held it longer.)
it is still in winter that xiao learns to love the heartbreak.
xiao eventually learns to forget about you. it’s a never intentional, and gradual process — never intentional in how he loaths the idea of forgetting you. he has already lost you once, to the hands of death, and he thinks that forgetting you is an insult, to both you and him — and to your memory.
forgetting you is to bring down the decorations you put up on winter nights, and forgetting you is to wear warm gloves because you are no longer there to warm it up for him. forgetting you is hard, especially because it’s xiao, but it is because that he is xiao that he eventually disremembers you.
(he never truly does forget about you. clearly not, not when he finds himself listening intently to some mortal concept — reincarnation, was it not? — something about meeting again in a new life.
the adeptus scoffs at the mere thought, anger welling up on the idea of being led on. it’s a concept, anyway, not a truth.
but did he truly detest the idea of being led on my silly mortal concepts, or did he just find it easy to be angry at anything but whatever higher power that is truly responsible for his fate?
the answer comes to him in centuries — living with the memory of you, but never truly you.
he learns that day to never trust mortal concepts again.)
note: i wanted to make this wayyyyy longer but it’s so hard staying inspired when making a piece
—all the things that genshin characters leave unsaid.
WITH. xiao, kaedehara kazuha, scaramouche, kaeya alberich, albedo, cyno, hu tao ♡ gn!reader
warnings: kaeya’s is kind of angsty, albedo story spoilers, written before sumeru and cyno’s release
NOTE. doo doo doo doo doo doo doo… and once again i am not happy with how a post turned out WHY
do you know? xiao thinks, how much i love you?
xiao is aware—painfully so—of how little he tells you; how little he acts like a normal lover, and how little he whispers those three precious little words that mean more than little things.
