#was I a scribe in a past life or something

[fourthwingfan]

Madness - Chapter 18

Hello there, my Lovely Readers! Here is the new chapter, enjoy :)

ui: and again, thanks for the likes and reblogs, you're awesome!

There is nothing more sacred than the Archives. Even temples can be rebuilt, but books cannot be rewritten.

—Colonel Daxton’s Guide to Excelling in the Scribe Quadrant

The wooden library cart squeaks as I push it over the bridge that connects the Riders Quadrant to the Healer, and then past the clinic doors into the heart of Basgiath.

After Threshing I was assigned to Archives duty. It seems that our library’s maintenance is a “less desirable” chore, and one of the unbonded took our place. So here I am. But at least I was paired up with Violet.

Mage lights illuminate our way down the tunnels as we take a path so familiar that I could walk it with my eyes shut. I’ve been here with Violet countless times.

I nod to the first-year scribe at the entrance to the Archives and he jumps out of his seat, hurrying to open the vault-like door.

“Good morning, Cadet Sorrengail, Cadet Melgren” he says, holding the entrance open so we can pass.

„Good morning, Cadet Pierson.” I nod as I push the cart through.

The Archives smell like parchment, book-binding glue, and ink.

Rows of twenty-foot-high shelves run the length of the cavernous structure, and we wait by the table nearest the entrance. Only scribes may pass any farther, and I am a rider.

The thought brings a smile to my lips as a woman approaches in a cream tunic and hood, a single rectangle of gold woven onto her shoulder. A first-year. When she pulls the fabric from her head, baring long brown hair, and brings her gaze to meet mine, I full-on grin. I sign, “Jesinia!”

“Cadet Sorrengail, Cadet Melgren.” she signs back. Her bright eyes sparkle, but she smothers her smile.

For just this second, I abhor the rituals and customs of the scribes. There would be nothing wrong with her smiling at us, but she’d be chastised for a loss of composure. After all, how could we know how earnest the scribes are about their work, how dedicated they remain, if they were to crack a smile?

“It’s really good to see you,” I sign and can’t quit grinning. “I knew you’d pass the test.”

“Only because I studied with Violet for the past year,” she signs back, pressing her lips together so they don’t curve upward. Then her face falls. “I was horrified to hear about you being forced into the Riders Quadrant.” She turns to Violet. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she assures her. “I’m bonded and…I’m happy.”

Her eyes widen. “Aren’t you constantly worried you’re going to—” She glances left and right, but there’s no one near enough to see us. “You know…die?”

“Sure.” She nods. “But oddly enough, you kind of get used to that.”

“Something like that.” I laugh quietly.

“If you say so.” She looks skeptical. “Let’s get you taken care of. Are these all returns?”

I nod and reach into the pocket of my pants for a small scroll of parchment and hand it to her before signing, “And a few requests from Professor Devera.” The unbonded in charge of our small library sends a list of requests and the returns every night, and we fetch them before breakfast, which is probably why my stomach is growling.

Burning all the extra calories from a combination of flight, sparring lessons and studying with Liam late into the night means I have an all-new capacity for food.

“Anything else?” she asks after putting the scroll in a hidden pocket in her robes.

I shake my head.

“Any chance you guys have a copy of The Fables of the Barren?” Violet signs.

Jesinia’s brow furrows. “I’m not familiar with that text.”

I blink. It’s strange. Jesinia is a scribe and she has been preparing for this her whole life.

“It’s not for academics or anything, just a collection of folklore my dad shared with us. A little on the dark side, honestly, but I love it.” Violet shrugs. “Wyvern, venin, magic, the battles of good and evil—you know, the good stuff.” She grins. If anyone understands her love of books, it’s Jesinia.

“I’ve never heard of that one, but I’ll look for it while I pull these.”

“Thank you. I’d really appreciate it.”

I know what she means. Now that we’re going to be the one wielding magic, we could use a few good folktales of what happens when humans defile the power channeled to them. No doubt they were written as a parable to warn us of the dangers of bonding dragons, but in Navarre’s six-hundred-year history of unification, I’ve never read of a single rider losing their soul to their powers. The dragons keep us from that.

Jesinia nods and pushes the cart, disappearing into the shelves.

It usually takes about fifteen minutes to gather the requests that come in from both professors and cadets in our quadrant, but I’m more than content to wait. Scribes come and go, some in groups as they train to become our kingdom’s historians.

“Violet?”

I turn to the left and see Professor Markham leading a squad of first-year scribes.

“Hello, Professor.” She smiles at him.

I keep my face emotionless around him. It is easier because I know he’ll expect it. After all I’m a Melgren.

“Professor.” I greet him.

“Cadet Melgren.” He nods and looks toward Violet. “I didn’t realize you had library chore duty.” He glances toward the spot in the shelves where Jesinia disappeared. “Are you being helped?”

“Jesinia—” she cringe. “I mean, Cadet Neilwart is most helpful.”

“You know,” he says to the squad of five as they arc around us, “Cadet Sorrengail here was my prized student until the Riders Quadrant stole her away.” His gaze meets her under his hood. “I had hopes she would return, but alas, she has bonded to not one but two dragons.”

A girl to his right gasps, then covers her mouth and mutters an apology.

“Don’t worry, all of us felt the same way,” I tell her.

“Perhaps you can explain something to Cadet Nasya over here, who was just griping that there’s not nearly enough fresh air in here.” Professor Markham turns his focus to a boy on his left. “This group is just starting their rotation in the Archives.”

Nasya turns beet red under his cream hood.

“It’s part of the fire mitigation system,” Violet tells him. “Less air, less risk of our history burning to the ground.”

“And the stuffy hoods?” Nasya lifts a brow at her.

“Makes it harder for you to stand out against the tomes,” she explains. “A symbol that no one and nothing is more important than the documents and books in this very room.”

“Exactly.” Professor Markham levels a glare at Nasya. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Cadet Sorrengail, we have work to attend. I’ll see you tomorrow in Battle Brief. Cadet Melgren you too.”

“Yes, sir.” I step back, giving the squad room to pass.

“Are you sad?” I ask Vi. She has a strange look on her face.

“It’s just… we’re here. We’re visiting the Archives. It’s hard, but no need to worry,” she tells me.

“It’s hard to love a second home as much as the first.” I smile sadly at her.

“It’s easy when the second home is the right one.” She smiles back.

And I know what she means. Home. That is what the Riders Quadrant has become to me—the right home. There is nothing that can match the adrenaline rush of flight.

Jesinia reappears with the cart, laden down with the requested books and bits of mail for the professors of our quadrant.

She signs, “I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t find that book. I even searched the catalog for wyvern—I think that’s what you said—but there’s nothing.”

I stare for a second. Our Archives have either a copy or the original of almost every book in Navarre. Only ultrarare or forbidden tomes are excluded. When did folklore become either of those? Though, come to think of it, I never came across anything like The Fables of the Barren on the shelves while I was here with Violet. Chimera? Yes. Kraken? Sure. But wyvern or the venin that create them? None. Bizarre.

“That’s all right. Thank you for looking,” she signs back.

“You look different,” she signs to Violet, then hands the cart over. “Not bad different, just…different. Your face is leaner, and even your posture…” She shakes her head.

“I’ve been training.” She pauses “It’s hard, but great, too. I’m getting quicker on the mat.”

“How about you? Is it everything you wanted?” I ask Jesinia.

“It’s everything and more. So much more. The responsibility we have not only to record history but to speed information from the front lines is more than I ever could have imagined, and it’s so fulfilling.” She presses her lips together again.

„Good. I’m happy for you.” And I mean it.

“But I worry for you. Both of you.” She sucks in a breath. “The uptick in attacks along the border…” Concern etches lines into her forehead.

“I know. We hear about them in Battle Brief.” It’s always the same, striking at faltering wards, ransacking villages high in the mountains, and more dead riders.

“And Dain?” she asks Violet as we head for the door. “Have you seen him?”

Her smile falters. “That’s a story for another day.”

She sighs. “I’ll try and be here around this time so I can see you.”

“Sounds wonderful.” I sign as walk through the door she opens.

By the time we return the cart to the library and make it through the lunch line, our time is almost up, which means I’m busy shoveling food in my mouth as fast as I can while the members of my new squad chat around me. But it’s only Violet’s friends and Liam with Ethan. The others…They’ve refused to sit with anyone with a rebellion relic.

So, fuck them.

„It was the coolest thing ever,” Ridoc continues. “One second he was sparring against that third-year with the wicked broadsword skills, and then Sawyer—”

“You could let him tell the story,” Rhiannon chides, rolling her eyes.

“No thank you,” Sawyer counters, shaking his head, staring at his fork with a hefty dose of fear.

Ridoc grins, in all his glory telling the story. “And then the sword just twists in Sawyer’s hand, curving toward the third-year even though Sawyer was way off the mark.” He grimaces in Sawyer’s direction. “Sorry, man, but you were. If your sword hadn’t decided to warp and go straight for that guy’s arm—”

“You’re a metallurgist?” Liam’s eyebrows rise. “Really?”

Holy crap, Sawyer can manipulate metals. I force down a little more turkey and openly stare at him. As far as I know, he’s the first of us to display any form of power, let alone a signet.

Sawyer nods. “That’s what Carr says. Aetos dragged me straight to the professor when he saw it happen.”

“I’m so jealous!” Ridoc grabs his chest. “I want my signet power to manifest!”

“You wouldn’t be so excited if it meant you weren’t sure if your fork would stab into the roof of your mouth because you can’t control it yet.” Sawyer shoves his tray away.

“Good point.” Ridoc looks at his own tray.

“You’ll manifest when your dragon is ready to trust you with all that power,” Quinn says, then finishes off her water. “Just hope your dragons trust you before about six months and—” She makes a sound like an explosion and mimics it with her hands.

“Stop scaring the children,” Imogen says. “That hasn’t happened in”—she pauses to think—“decades.” When we all stare at her, she rolls her eyes. “Look, the relic your dragons transferred onto you at Threshing is the conduit to let all that magic into your body. If you don’t manifest a signet and let it out, then after a bunch of months, bad things happen.”

We all gawk.

“The magic consumes you,” Quinn adds, making the explosion sound again.

“Relax, it’s not like a hard deadline or something. It’s just an average.” Imogen shrugs.

“Fuck me, it’s always something around here,” Ridoc mutters.

“Feeling a little luckier now,” Sawyer says, staring at his fork.

“We’ll get you some wooden utensils,” I tell Sawyer. “And you should probably avoid the armory or sparring with… anything.” I grin at him.

Sawyer scoffs. “That’s the truth. At least I’ll be safe during flight this afternoon.”

Adding flight classes to our schedule has been essential since Threshing. The wings rotate for access to the flight field, and today is one of our lucky days of the week.

I feel a tingle in my scalp and know if I turn, I’ll find Xaden watching us. But I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking. He hasn’t said so much as a word to me since Threshing. And I don’t know what it means. I thought that we had a moment… or something.

But I realised that he ordered others to watch over Vi.

There’s always an upperclassman somewhere near when we’re walking the halls or headed to the gym at night.

And they all have rebellion relics.

It must be because of the bond.

“I like it better when we have it in the morning,” Rhiannon says, her face souring. “It’s way worse after we’ve eaten breakfast and lunch.”

“Agreed,” I manage between mouthfuls.

“I’ll see you tonight.” Imogen says to Violet as she and Quinn clear their trays, taking them back to the window for scullery.

“Is she any nicer when she’s training you?” Rhiannon asks.

“No. But she’s efficient.” She finishes the turkey as the room begins to clear, and we all make our way toward the scullery window.

„What’s Professor Carr like?” I ask Sawyer, then tuck my tray onto the stack. The wielding professor is one of the only ones I haven’t met, since I haven’t manifested a signet.

“Fucking terrifying,” Sawyer answers. “I can’t wait for the entire year to start wielding lessons so everyone can enjoy his particular brand of instruction.”

We head out through commons and the rotunda and into the courtyard, all buttoning up our coats. November has hit hard with gusty winds and frosted grass in the morning, and the first snow isn’t far behind.

“I knew it would work!” Jack Barlowe says ahead of us, dragging someone under his arm and thumping her head affectionately.

“Isn’t that Caroline Ashton?” Rhiannon asks, her mouth hanging open as Caroline heads toward the academic wing with Jack.

“Yeah.” Liam tenses. “She bonded Gleann this morning.”

“Wasn’t he already bonded?” Ethan watches them until they disappear into the wing.

“His rider died on our first flight lesson.” I focus on the gate ahead that leads to the flight field.

“So I guess the unbonded still have that shot they’re looking for,” Rhiannon mutters.

„Yeah.” Liam nods, his features tense. “They do.”

…

“You’re improving. You’ll be a good rider after all.” Aon remarks as we land on the flight field.

“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not.” I take deep breaths and try to calm my racing heart.

“Take it as you wish.”

I mentally roll my eyes and scoot out of the seat and I jump to the ground. The move has become so practiced that I barely even think about it anymore. “Besides, you could make it easier, you know.”

„Oh, I know.”

“I’m not the one putting us into spirals with steep banks while Kaori is teaching plain dives.” My feet hit the ground of the field, and I arch an eyebrow at Aon.

“I’m training you for battle. He’s teaching you parlor tricks.” He blinks a golden eye at me and looks away.

“I know you hide something from me. Don’t you want to tell me why we are preparing for battle?” I do all the checks Kaori has taught us, looking for any debris that could have lodged between the long, taloned toes of Aon’s claws or between the rock-hard scales of his underbelly.

“I’m not foolish enough to not know that I have something stuck in my flesh. And I already told you, that you need to learn first. If I were to tell you everything it would only draw unwanted attention. You’re smart. Use your brain, little one.”

“Fine.” I sigh. “And eventually you could call me Aelin, you know.” I take the time to examine every row of his scales. One of the biggest dangers to dragons are the smallest things they can’t remove that penetrate between the scales, causing infection.

“I know,” he replies. “And I could call you Sunshine like the wingleader.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” I narrow my eyes as I move forward, checking where his chest begins to rise. “And you know how much that ass annoys me.”

“Annoys you?” Aon chuckles above me, the sound like a chuffing cat. “Is that what you call it when your heart rate—”

“Don’t even start with me.”

A growl rumbles through Aon’s chest above me and vibrates my very bones.

I turn around to see what made Aon annoyed.

It’s Dain. He approaches Violet.

Oh shit. I know that they haven’t spoken to each other since Threshing.

“You should watch over your friend. He seems angry.”

“Thanks mother hen, I can see it. But I won’t interfere, they need to talk it out.” I say as I watch them.

“Fine. But if he touches you, I will scorch him.” Aon grumbles.

“What? Why would he touch me?” I ask him.

„I’m hungry. I think I’ll partake in a flock of sheep.” He launches with great beats of his wings.

Hm. Interesting.

I see as Violet motions at Rhiannon to go on without her, and she walks ahead with the others, leaving Dain and her to bring up the rear.

I fall back at the edge of the field. I won’t leave her alone with him after Aon’s comment.

I act like someone who is looking for something in the grass. No one has accused me of creativity yet.

“Why didn’t you tell me you can’t keep your fucking seat?” I hear Dain shouts at her, grabbing her elbow.

What the fuck?

“I’m sorry?!” Violet yanks her arm out of his hold.

“All this time, I’ve been letting Kaori teach you, thinking he must have everything under control. After all, if the rider of the strongest dragon in the quadrant couldn’t keep her seat, then surely we’d all know.” He rips his hand over his hair. “Surely I would know if my best friend fell every fucking day that she flew!”

“It’s not a secret!” She shouts back. “Everyone in our wing knows! I’m sorry if you haven’t been keeping tabs on your squad, but trust me, Dain. Everyone knows. And I’m not going to stand here while you lecture me like I’m a child.” Violet turns around to follow our wing.

“You didn’t tell me,” he says, anger in his voice giving way to hurt as he catches up with her as I walk slowly after them.

“There’s not a problem.” She shakes her head. “Tairn can keep me buckled in magically if he needs to. I’m the one asking him to loosen the restraints. And I’d think twice before you question him. He’s more of the char-first-ask-questions-later type.”

“It’s a huge problem, because he can’t channel—

Oh shit, Dain. You’re digging your own grave.

„His full powers?” She asks as we make it out of the field, heading toward the steps that descend next to the Gauntlet. “I know that. Why do you think I’m up there asking him to loosen up?”

“You’ve been flying for a month, and you’re still falling.” I hear his voice as he follows Violet down the staircase.

“So is half the wing, Dain!”

“Not a dozen times, they aren’t,” he shoots back. He’s on her heels as she picks up her pace toward the path that will lead back to the citadel. “I just want to help you, Vi. How can I help?”

I halt at the mouth of the tunnel to give them some place. I’ve never seen Violet so angry before.

But I’m proud of her.

I slowly walk after them. I hope they’re done with the arguing.

„This place cuts away the bullshit and the niceties, revealing whoever you are at your core.” I hear Violet’s voice. “Isn’t that what you said to me? Is this who you really are at your core? Someone so enamored with rules that he doesn’t know when to bend or break them for someone he cares about? Someone so focused on the least I’m capable of doing, he can’t believe I can do so much more?”

Come on Vi, tell him!

“Let’s get one thing straight, Dain.” She takes a step closer. “The reason we’ll never be anything more than friends isn’t because of your rules. It’s because you have no faith in me. Even now, when I’ve survived against all odds and bonded not just one dragon but two, you still think I won’t make it. So forgive me, but you’re about to be some of the bullshit that this place cuts away from me.”

Sunlight overpowers me for a second as I walk into the courtyard after Vi. Classes are out for the afternoon, and I see Xaden and Garrick leaned up against the wall of the academic building like gods surveying their domain.

Xaden arches a dark eyebrow as she passes by.

She flips him the middle finger.

Oh wow, she is really pissed off.

“Everything all right?” I ask as I catch up to her.

“Dain is an ass—”

“Make it stop!” someone screams, rushing down the steps of the rotunda and holding his head. It’s a first-year in Third Wing who sits two rows beneath me in Battle Brief and perpetually drops his quill. “For gods’ sake, make it stop!” he shrieks, stumbling into the courtyard.

My hands hover over my blades.

A shadow moves to my left, and a glance tells me Xaden has moved, casually putting himself just ahead of Violet.

My heart clenches.

The crowd hollows, forming a circle around the first-year as he screams, clutching his head.

“Jeremiah!” someone shouts, coming forward.

“You!” Jeremiah spins, pointing his finger at the third-year. “You think I’ve lost it!” His head tilts, and his eyes flare. “How does he know? He shouldn’t know!” His tone shifts, like the words aren’t his own.

Chills race down my spine, dragging my stomach to the ground. Oh fuck.

“And you!” He spins again, pointing at a second-year in First Wing. “What the hell is wrong with him? Why is he screaming?” He turns again, focused on Dain. “Is Violet going to hate me forever? Why can’t she see that I just want to keep her alive? How is he…? He’s reading my thoughts!”

Jeremiah’s signet power is manifesting. He can read minds—an inntinnsic. His power is a death sentence.

Violet stumbles backward on my left—gently shoved back—and I don’t need to look to know whose muscled arm now brushes my shoulder as Violet stands behind us. The scent of mint somehow steadies my heartbeat. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Liam as he stands on my right.

Jeremiah unsheathes his shortsword. “Make it stop! Can’t any of you see? The thoughts won’t stop!” His panic is palpable, clogging my own throat.

“Do something,” Violet begs Xaden, glancing up at him.

His unwavering, lethal focus is on Jeremiah, but his body tenses at her plea.

 “Start mentally reciting whatever book you can think of.” I turn to Violet.

“I’m sorry?” She asks, looking at me with wide eyes.

„If you value your secrets, clear your thoughts. Now,” I order her. “He’s an inntinnsic and you really don’t want him to read your mind.”

“And you!” Jeremiah turns, his gaze locking on Garrick. “Damn it all to hell. He’ll know about—” The shadows around Jeremiah’s feet snake up his legs in a heartbeat, winding around his chest until they cover his mouth in bands of black.

I swallow the boulder in my throat.

Damn. I don’t want to know what Garrick was thinking.

A professor pushes through the crowd, his shock of white hair bouncing with every step of his large frame.

“He’s an inntinnsic!” someone shouts, and that seems to be all that’s necessary.

The professor grips Jeremiah’s head with both hands, and a crack echoes off the walls of the silent courtyard. Xaden’s shadows melt away and Jeremiah falls to the ground, his head at an unnatural, macabre angle. His neck is broken.

The professor bends down and lifts Jeremiah’s body with surprising strength, carrying him into the rotunda.

Xaden inhales sharply beside me, then walks away with Garrick, headed toward the academic wing. Nice to see you, too.

“Maybe I don’t want a signet power after all,” Ridoc murmurs.

“That death is merciful compared to what will happen if you don’t manifest one,” Dain says, and I swear I start to feel my relic burn across my back even though my dragon hasn’t started channeling.

“And that,” Sawyer says from Rhiannon’s side, “was Professor Carr.”

…

“What did you learn today?” I hear a voice and see The General in front of me.

“What?” I ask slightly disoriented.

Where am I? And how did I get here?

“Don’t you even understand simple questions? You’re useless!” He steps closer with a dagger in his hand. “What did that marked boy thought when the inntinnsic read his mind?”

“I… I don’t know.” I stutter as I tried to step back, but my legs don’t move. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“Don’t lie to me!” He shouts and steps closer. “Your only value is the information you bring. Now tell me!”

“I didn’t hear anything! I swear.” I whisper in a broken voice. I can’t betray them.

“Would you die for them?” He growls inches from me.

“Please.” I beg and I see as he raises his dagger, ready to use it.

I shut my eyes and I can feel tears running down on my face.

„WAKE.” A familiar, consuming voice rumbles through my dreams. A voice that doesn’t belong here.

“You’re useless. I should have let you die.”

„Wake up!” The walls around me tremble, and my heart jolts. “Now!”

My eyes fly open, and I gasp as the dream disintegrates. I’m not there. I’m in my room in the Riders Quadrant.

It was a nightmare. Only a nightmare.

“Move!” Aon bellows. “Your friend is in danger!”

What?

I quickly get up and grab my daggers as I wipe off my tears.

“Violet? Is she in danger?” I ask Aon as I run out of my room.

I wear the armor which Mira gave me, and a short. It’s not the best for a fight but it will do.

“Yes.”

I quickly made my way toward Violet’s room and my blood freezes at scene what I see after I open her door.

One of the unbonded is gripping Vi’s throat as he holds her against the wall.

“Now you’re fucking dead!” I growl at them as I feel the rage inside me.

“Shit. It’s Melgren!” One of them shouts as they turn toward me.

I move my blade and fend off one attack from the left, slicing down a woman’s forearm, and then another to the right, stabbing into a man’s thigh. I quickly bring up my dagger and slice it across his throat.

I can feel his blood on my face, but I don’t have time to wipe it off.

I kick out with my heel and catch another in the gut as he attacks, sending him careening back onto Violet’s bed, his sword tumbling after him.

“Stop, or I will kill her!” I hear the man says who holds Violet.

I freeze and look at them. He holds his dagger against Violet’s throat.

Shit. I try to come up with a plan to save us, but they have the advantage.

Think Aelin! Think!

“Drop your daggers!” He orders. “Now!”

I open my hands and I hear my daggers rattle on the floor.

The woman whose arm was cut quickly collects them.

“Now you’re not that confident aren’t you?” The other man who is with them asks as he punches me in the face.

Damn. It hurts.

I can feel the blood in my mouth. My lips been split.

“Cat got your tounge, Melgren?” He teases.

“You hit like a girl.” I say as I spit the blood in his face.

“Bitch.” He growls and lands a punch in my ribs.

I bend forward trying to catch my breath, and he kicks my legs out from under me.

“Do you have anything else to say?” He asks as he grabs my hair and pulls my head back.

„He’s almost there!” Aon promises, panic lacing his tone.

He who? I can’t breathe.

“Oh, a lot.” I smile at him mockingly. I try to distract them until ‘he’ arrives.

I hear a crack and pain radiates from my nose along with my blood.

He fucking broke my nose.

“Finish her!” one of them yells toward Violet’s captor. “He’ll only respect us if we finish her!”

Shit. They’re after Tairn.

Air rushes into my lungs as I watch as cold metal caresses her throat, the oxygen flooding my blood and clearing my head enough to realize this is it. We’re going to die. From one heartbeat to what will probably be my last, an overwhelming sorrow seizes my chest, and I can’t help but wonder if I would have made it. Would I have been strong enough to graduate? Would I have become worthy of Aon?

The bedroom door flies open, the wood splintering as it slams against the stone wall, but I don’t have a chance to turn to see who is standing there before I can feel something strange.

I lock eyes with Vi and it’s as if everyone in this room is frozen in place…except us.

#fourth wing #fanfiction #fourth wing fanfic #liam mairi #the fourth wing #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #oc #the empyrean #xaden x oc #tairn #dragons #madness #ridoc gamlyn #sawyer fourth wing #rhiannon matthias #imogen fourth wing

[afterdeck-ace]

That moment when Ace demands to be written.

#they've all been so so quiet the past few months cos I'm exhausted and busy elsewhere but I know they're here they always are #and it's always such a joy when I come across something when I read something or when I have a thought about something and suddenly #there's an echo inside me and they're here and they're talking #that's why I call it #scribe life #I'm just a scribe transcribing what's happening to them #and i'm so happy about it #talking scribe

[crystallinestars]

How They React to Your Death

My HCs about how I think the Genshin boys would react to your death. I wanted to write Kaeya too, but ran out of steam.

This month has been terrible to me, so I was in the mood for angst. I don't know how well these turned out, but they were fun to think about.

Characters: Alhaitham, Childe, Heizou, Kaveh, Lyney, Neuvillette, Venti, Wanderer/Scaramouche, and Wriothesley

WARNING:

Reader has death descriptions. Some are more graphic than others, but I don't get into the nitty gritty details.

Spoilers for the backstories of all the mentioned boys.

MAJOR SPOILERS for Act V of the Fontaine Archon quest in Neuvillette's part.

Childe's part contains mention of suicidal thoughts.

Kaveh's and Venti's parts contain alcoholism

🎧 Alhaitham

Despite Alhaitham’s considerable wealth, no amount of money could cure your Eleazar sickness. His money could only buy treatment that prolonged your life a little bit, but ultimately your many years of battling the illness ended when he got news from the doctors that you had passed away in your sleep.

Alhaitham had accepted the news fairly quickly. He knew your death was inevitable, could see you slowly wasting away each time he visited you in the hospital over the past few months. So it was no surprise to him when the day finally came. The other patients and staff thought it strange how Alhaitham had no visible reaction to the news, but some chalked it up to shock when in truth the Scribe was simply accepting of that fact. There was no use denying something that already happened.

When Alhaitham came home that day, the house felt silent and empty. It reminded him of how the house felt when his grandmother passed away when he was younger. The sensations were similar. However, he did not cry over your death. Instead, he carried on his life as normal, or as close to it as he could now that you were no longer a part of what he considered ‘normal’.

At first glance, people thought that Haitham was unaffected by your death. Nothing about him changed. Not his mannerisms, his quality of work, or his expression. He remained the same reserved, stoic Scribe who had no time for trivial nonsense or extra work. He also never talked about you to others aside from confirming their question if you were truly gone. Alhaitham was like a well-oiled machine that worked efficiently like clockwork, keeping up the same even rhythm.

What they don’t see is how he comes home with the expectation of hearing your voice greet him upon entering, only to be faced with a defeating silence that makes his heart sink. They don’t know that Alhaitham wakes up throughout the night, expecting to find you snuggled up next to him in bed the way you used to before your sickness got worse, and you had to be hospitalized. However, you weren’t there no matter how many times he looked towards your side of the bed, and the Scribe could only sigh and try to fall back asleep while ignoring his aching heart.

No one sees how Alhaitham gets too lost in his books in the mornings and accidentally makes two cups of coffee instead of one due to force of habit. Or how, for once, he finds the silence of his house bothersome without your voice and the sounds of your activities resounding within the walls, and it’s enough to distract him from reading. He could be found reading at the House of Daena and Puspa Café more often from then on.

During his afternoon naps, Alhaitham sneaks back home and cradles your favorite blanket to mimic the sensation of holding your soft body in his arms the way he used to when you joined him for naps. He listens to recordings of you talking with him just so he can hear your voice again. He was glad he made the decision to record your voice at the hospital before you became too weak to speak. It gave him the chance to hear you one more time even if the sound of your voice made his chest hurt so much that he occasionally had to stop the recording to collect himself.

Nobody sees how Alhaitham finally picks up the fiction books you recommended him because they were your favorite. He prefers non-fiction, but these books are the last things he has left through which he could connect to your mind and way of thinking. He reads them all cover-to-cover even if he finds the story lacking or the writing not to his taste. He will learn to treasure each and every word because you once did.

What someone might see, as Kaveh did when he moved in with the Scribe, is a bookshelf filled with a few journals, a thick book with an emerald cover, and an assortment of fiction books that exist nowhere else in the house. Alhaitham never talks about these books unless asked, but their well-worn covers are a sign of frequent use, and sure enough, one can catch him reading a rare fiction book during one specific month each year.

🐋 Childe

You went missing after going out to collect some firewood in the woods near Childe’s home. A search party was arranged to find you with Childe in the lead, and he was also the first one to find your remains. Your body had been torn apart, blood and innards splattered across the snow, no doubt the work of some rifthounds. Usually, Childe would relish in such a gory sight, but not this time. Not when it’s your blood and flesh painted in the snow.

The sight leaves him numb. He’s numb when the search party comes to retrieve you, numb when he sees your parents weeping over your gruesome death, and numb when he takes on the duty of exterminating every rifthound he finds around Morepesok.

He wants to cry too, to grieve for you the way he needs, but refrains. He doesn’t want to appear weak and unreliable when his younger siblings mourn and cry over your death. You were like family to them, and your death broke their little hearts to pieces. Childe didn’t want to burden his siblings further by breaking down in front of them. He needed to remain a reliable older brother who could support them through this tough time, even when his own heart bled and he cried in his sleep when he dreamed about you.

Childe’s underlings noted that the Eleventh Harbinger became colder and more irritable after your passing. Any mention of your name would garner the speaker a harsh glare, and if Childe assumed what said person said about you was disrespectful, he didn’t hesitate to start a fight and beat the other person within an inch of their life. He became violent and unhinged, much like how he used to be when he returned from the Abyss as a fourteen-year-old boy.

Childe knew his behavior was irrational, and it pained him to see even his own family fear him due to his violent actions. He felt restless. Spending time at home among your belongings summoned feelings of longing and sadness, but even so, he couldn’t bear to throw anything away. He lived among the ghosts of your existence, however, it drove him mad with grief.

Childe needed an outlet for his emotions, so he took to fighting monsters and other strong opponents. He became even more reckless in battle. If before, the Harbinger sought out strong enemies to test his mettle against them and grow stronger as a result, now he sought out an opponent that would be worthy of taking his life.

Childe didn’t want to abandon his family. He loved them dearly and wanted to see his siblings grow up to be happy and successful people, but life without you felt so hollow. A part of him wanted to return to his family, but the sense of his family feeling incomplete never left him. You were just as much of a family to him as his siblings and parents were. He had plans to start his own family with you. But now… now, a part of him yearns to reunite with you in the afterlife. He promised he would stay by your side no matter what, and Ajax is not one to break his promises.

🔍 Heizou

Heizou was one of the first to hear about your stabbing that occurred in an Inazuman alleyway late that evening. You were rushed to a doctor to have your wound treated, but the robber who attacked you hit a vital area. Your blood loss was colossal, and it wasn’t long after arriving at the doctor’s that you succumbed to your injury.

To Heizou, the news brought on a sense of deja vu. He’s already lost a friend to crime in the past, and now he lost you to crime, too. The knowledge made him furious and heartbroken. He was angry at the robber for stabbing you just so he could steal some money that you didn’t want to part with, and he was angry at himself for failing to prevent this. After his friend passed away, Heizou swore to nip crime in the bud by discouraging criminals from committing crimes with the threat that he would find and capture them no matter what without fail. But what good did his resolve do if you still died because of an armed robber?

The heartache and guilt he felt ate away at him as the memory of your ashen face during your last few moments haunted him. He lost you. Never again would he get to spend time with you and make you laugh, kiss and hug you, or tell you he loved you.

His anger drove him to capture the murderer in record time, but hearing the criminal’s subsequent sentence for theft and murder didn’t comfort the detective. No amount of jail time would ever atone for the loss of your life.

After that day, Heizou lost his playful demeanor, becoming somber and reserved. He threw himself into his work, feeling pressured to capture as many criminals as he could in as little time as possible. However, his grief and exhaustion caused his mind to dull and make mistakes while investigating clues. It got to the point where Kujou Sara had to forcibly send him on vacation so he could take a break and properly process your death.

Despite his protests, Heizou knew he wasn’t much use in his current state, so he took this free time to visit your family and mourn together with them. He apologized for not doing a better job of protecting you, fully expecting your parents to lay blame on him for not protecting their child. To his surprise, your parents didn’t blame him at all. They even thanked him for catching the murderer and helping them to feel a little more at peace. Heizou’s interaction with your family helped him feel a tiny bit less guilty about your death.

The experience left him feeling a little less broken, so in the following days he sorted through your belongings in your shared home. He packed away some items to return to your parents, some things he put in storage, and others he gave away that he remembered you wanting to get rid of. A few of your items he kept for himself, one of which was a scarf you mentioned you bought because it was the same shade of green as his eyes which reminded you of him.

Heizou wore your scarf as a keepsake and good luck charm and would hardly be seen without it when he finally came back to work. What once served as your reminder of him, now served as his reminder of you, the person he loved with his whole being. But with the memories of you came the reminder of how you died. Though the memory was painful, it helped Heizou work up the will to keep pursuing his goal of eradicating crime. Even when the case was extremely tough with conflicting clues, your scarf would remind him to not give up, to not let another incident like yours happen again, and Heizou would persevere. He would continue to persevere no matter how long it took because he didn’t want innocent lives like yours to be snatched away so cruelly. Maybe one day, he will see you in the afterlife and proudly tell you all about how he achieved his dream. Until then, he will work hard to be worthy of the title of Inazuma’s best detective.

🍷 Kaveh

Kaveh had a lot of work to do. He was saddled with creating drafts for another large project while also trying to work on the commission for constructing a library in Aaru village for the children. Wanting to help alleviate his burden, you offered to take the finished drafts over to Aaru village yourself so he could focus on finishing up work for his other project. Kaveh tried to object, saying you really didn’t need to trouble yourself on his behalf, but you insisted, expressing your desire to help him finish his work sooner so the two of you could spend more time together again. After some deliberation, he let you go to the village by yourself, confident that you could make the trip since you accompanied him there several times before.

A few days later, Kaveh received news that you had died on your return trip from the desert. When he heard the cause of your death, his stomach roiled. You perished in quicksand just like his father. You died doing something for his sake, just like his father did.

Whatever future plans he was building together with you, whatever progress you made in helping him slowly heal from his trauma, it all came crashing down around him. Your death reopened old wounds Kaveh was only starting to heal from, as well as left new scars that tormented him every waking moment.

The first few weeks, Kaveh couldn’t stand to be in your shared home. It was full of memories of you, and each and every one of your belongings would stab at his heart like a blade. Moreover, the house felt so silent without you around. It reminded him of when his mother left for Fontaine, leaving him alone in a house too big for only him to live in. Now, he was reliving that moment all over again, but it was worse this time because, unlike his mother, he would never see you again.

Kaveh also couldn’t stand to look inside his sketchbooks. The pages were covered in various sketches of you, and looking at them only made the anguish and guilt grow in him tenfold. He blamed himself for your death, attributing it to being his fault just like he attributes his father’s death as his fault too. No matter what anyone says to console him, he will never stop believing it’s all his fault.

Fueled by guilt and self-loathing, Kaveh spent several weeks visiting Lambad’s tavern practically every day. One could even say he lived there since the architect seldom went home. He used what little money he had to buy alcohol, especially of the stronger kind. He wanted to numb the pain in his heart and to pretend that you weren’t really gone from this world. The alcohol helped to muddle his mind until his intoxicated brain conjured happy memories of you together, and Kaveh would mumble your name in a drunken haze. Other times it didn’t help, and Alhaitham, Cyno, or Tighnari could often find a drunk Kaveh quietly crying while slumped over a table and trying their best to drag him home while listening to his drunken babble of self-loathing and regret.

It will take a long time for Kaveh to feel okay again, and even then, he will never be the same optimistic and cheerful person he used to be. You were his muse, the one who made him feel like maybe he was deserving of love after all. But with you gone, he lost his creative spark. His designs no longer held the same extravagant and artistic flair they used to. Now, they’re more tame by comparison. With your passing, you took with you the little bit of joy he felt towards the world, and it seemed more bleak than it used to be when he was with you.

Kaveh refused to seek out love after your death. He’s lost too many people he held dear and has been left alone over and over again. The pain of being left behind and of feeling like he will only bring misfortune to those he cares about, made him seal off his heart. He doesn’t want to let people close to him like that again, and neither does he want to replace you. You were, and still are, very special to him.

Despite numerous years going by after your passing, Kaveh never forgot you, and he didn’t want your memory to be forgotten either. He built an art school and dedicated it to you in honor of being the one who inspired him so much in his creative endeavors. He hopes that your name will live on and continue to inspire future generations of artists long after he is gone from the world.

🎩 Lyney Having grown up in the House of the Hearth with Lyney and Lynette, the twins were practically like family to you. Though admittedly, Lyney and you developed romantic ties rather than familial ones the more you got to know each other. It was no surprise to anyone when the two of you became a couple, and Lynette even encouraged it.

Being a member of the Fatui, you were often sent out on dangerous missions to infiltrate enemy territory and report your findings back to Arlecchino. You were good at your job and had major successfully completed missions under your belt, but even the best slip up sometimes. After infiltrating enemy headquarters, you regularly reported your findings back to the House, however, one day the correspondence stopped. You went completely silent. The thought of you being caught immediately crossed Lyney’s mind, but he was hopeful that as an experienced agent, you would manage to find a way out somehow. You always have in the past, and after having worked together with you during joint missions, he saw first-hand how capable you were. To pass the time, he focused on polishing a magic trick he wanted to show you upon your return.

Days go by, and just as the magician is about to lose his patience and run off to try and find you, news about your body washing up on a riverbank reaches his ears. The heartbreak Lyney experiences upon hearing the news is indescribable. He felt lost, disoriented, and anguished. A part of him refused to believe the facts, but after witnessing the gruesome sight of your corpse, he had no choice but to face reality.

You were dead.

Lyney wondered at length about the cause of your death, and while his own guesses made his stomach knot, the autopsy report he read a few days later made him livid. Numerous torture and abuse marks were found on your body. It seemed that the enemy had captured and tortured you, hoping to force you to spill some of the Fatui’s secrets. Judging by the severity of the most recent wounds, you must have kept quiet because more brutal torture methods were used on you until the enemy figured out they wouldn’t get anything out of you, and disposed of you. Lyney knew how loyal you were to your family. You would never betray them even at the cost of your own life, but in that moment, he really wished you would have treasured your life more. Maybe then you could have survived. Maybe then he would have had the chance to hold you in his arms and tell you he missed you while you were gone. Maybe he would have had an opportunity to show off the magic trick he created specifically for your eyes only. But now, he’ll continue to miss you until the day death comes for him too. Lyney’s initial reaction upon hearing of your torture is overwhelming fury. Lynette had to hold him back from recklessly running off to take revenge against the enemy. It took a lot of reasoning on her part, but eventually, her brother calmed down.

Once his bout of anger passed, Lyney broke down. Lynette didn’t hide her own tears as she held her brother in her arms while he cried. The siblings both missed you dearly and mourned your loss, but Lyney took your death especially hard. He felt broken. One of his most precious people was taken from him in such a cruel manner, and the mere thought of how you must have spent your last few waking hours made him feel horrible.

He was anguished and angry, and the potent concoction of negative emotions weighed down on his heart and mind. Gone was his cheerful smile and outgoing attitude, replaced with a cold and somber frown. His calculative side took center stage. Though his initial burst of outrage passed, he wouldn’t give up on his desire for revenge until the act had been carried out. Aside from the twins, Arlecchino also refused to take your death lying down. You were her precious child, someone she put in a lot of love and effort to raise, and this transgression angered her as much as it angered Lyney. Together with Arlecchino, Lyney and Lynette infiltrate enemy headquarters and make every person a part of that organization pay. The magician ensures that the perpetrators experience the same pain you went through during your torture, and by the time they’re done, not a soul is left alive.

Even after exacting revenge, Lyney barely feels a smidge better. Though your captors have been neutralized and won’t hurt anyone the way they hurt you ever again, it doesn’t satisfy Lyney. At the end of the day, all he wants is to have you back in his life. He consoles himself with pieces of your clothing. Your clothes smelled like you, and Lyney hugged one of your items every night, breathing in your scent and soaking the material with his tears as he quietly cried. It takes a long time for Lyney to get himself together and act like himself again. Though he could easily put on a fake smile for his audience, his heart still aches inside. He misses you no matter how many months go by, and Lynette has her hands full comforting him when he breaks down at night and cries about how much he wants to see you. Lyney would have had an easier time accepting your death if you had passed away more peacefully, but knowing you were tortured to death will forever haunt him.

Once he feels more like himself, Lyney incorporates the magic trick he originally wanted to show you upon your return into his magic shows. He only performs it during special occasions so it would leave a great spectacle upon his audience. It was once made to awe you, but now it awes his audience, and a part of him feels some semblance of catharsis in knowing he could inspire others to feel the same joy you made him feel using just this trick. At times like these, Lyney feels as if a part of you was still there with him, enjoying the show he secretly dedicates in your honor.

⚖️ Neuvillette

You were visiting your friend Navia in Poisson, when the Primordial Sea flooded the area and caused a great catastrophe that took the lives of many of its residents. Neuvillette was aware you were in Poisson when the disaster struck, and he tried to get there as quickly as he could to check on you. He would have arrived there immediately were it not for the pressing matters he had to settle prior. He hoped the Traveler and Paimon would find you and keep you safe since they knew you were the Iudex’s beloved.

When he finally made it to Poisson, to his morbid surprise, he found neither you nor Navia, but some Fatui members helping to mitigate the damage. When he asked about your whereabouts, he was told that nobody had seen you. Immediately, his thoughts ventured to the worst scenario, but he refused to believe in his fears until he could get confirmation. He held out hope that you were alright, and went in pursuit of Navia and the Traveler, hoping that maybe you were with them, or they knew what happened to you.

It wasn’t until he was saving Navia from getting dissolved in the Primordial Sea water, did he catch a glimpse of your face. You were trying to protect Navia from certain death, along with Silver and Meluse. At the time he was too anxious about saving Navia to fully register the implication, but an unsettling thought sprang in his mind that maybe you really were— No, he didn’t want to accept it.

When Navia regained consciousness, Neuvillette asked her about your whereabouts. Her answer pierced through him like an ice-cold lance. With tears in her eyes, Navia recounted how you were helping Silver and Meluse rescue the residents of Poisson when the Primordial Sea flooded in, and how she saw your body dissolve in the water along with her loyal subordinates with her own eyes. The news settled in Neuvillette’s stomach like a boulder, causing it to sink and make him feel nauseous. Dread filled him, but he could only muster a quiet “I see…” and stare off into the distance. He felt crushing sadness, but he wasn’t given time to properly process his emotions and your death until he managed to make it out of the ruins.

That evening, Fontaine was hit by a torrential downpour that lasted several days. The rain fell in heavy sheets, flooding the streets and urging most of the citizens to seek shelter in their homes. Only the Chief Justice had the gall to stand outside and let the rain seep and soak through his clothes.

Neuvillette let the water droplets cascade down his face, imitating the tears he wished to shed as the realization that he would never see you again settled in. It was strange. Though he was on land, each waking moment he was pursued by a constant feeling of drowning. His chest felt heavy as if burdened by a great weight that made each breath he took feel like a herculean task.

Neuvillette felt a lot of emotions he couldn’t find the words for. He was frustrated and angry that innocent civilians had died in the flood because nothing was done to prevent it. So many people died. You died. If nothing else, he wanted to get justice for your and the others’ deaths.

However, Furina refused to provide answers to his questions despite his probing and insistence that now was not the time to keep secrets that could potentially help prevent an even greater catastrophe. That was when he turned to seeking aid from his companions, in the hopes that Fontaine could still be saved. Neuvillette lost and gained many things in those few days. The citizens of Fontaine were freed of their curse, and Neuvillette had obtained a position of complete authority, however, it all came at the cost of the lives of innocent civilians, Focalors’s life, Furina’s mental state, and… your life. Those were great prices to pay, and Neuvillette mourned each and every sacrifice.

Now that he had some time to himself to process his feelings, Neuvillette recognized that what he felt was grief and longing. He wanted to see you at least one more time, to feel you in his arms again. To have you taken from him so suddenly was too painful. He never got to tell you one last ‘I love you’, and he could only hope that his words reach you wherever your consciousness might be now. Fontaine will see frequent rainfall in the coming months. It won’t be easy for Neuvillette to get over your death, and some part of him will always ache and yearn to see you again. But one thing he can do is strengthen his resolve to make Fontaine into a nation that both you and Focalors would be proud of. A nation where tragedies like these will never happen again.

🍃 Venti

Venti liked to climb up on high places like his statue in front of the Favonius church, the rooftop of the Cat’s Tail, or the great tree at Windrise. Today, you found him high up in the tree, absentmindedly strumming a new tune on his lyre. Wanting to surprise the bard, you tried your best to climb the tree as quietly as you could, but right as you were about to pop up and surprise him, the branch you were on snapped, and with a heart-stopping shriek, you plummeted down to the ground.

Your scream alerted Venti. He felt your presence before you even started climbing the tree, but he failed to foresee the danger until it was too late. He didn’t react fast enough to summon a gust of wind to safely lower you down. The sickening crunch of your skull hitting the ground made his stomach roil, and for a brief moment he felt as if the blood in his veins turned to ice. He felt frozen in place.

Snapping out of his momentary stupor, Venti rushed to your side to check on you, but the enormous pool of blood blooming around your lifeless body made him throw up.

Not again. He lost someone he loved once more. The painful emotions of losing you triggered a cascade of memories of seeing the broken body of that one boy he called a friend thousands of years ago. The same boy whose face he now wore as a way of honoring his memory and giving him an opportunity to live out his dreams of freedom through Venti.

Venti felt that same feeling of heavy emptiness once again as he cradled your lifeless body in his arms, your blood smearing the white sleeves of his shirt. One of the bard’s hands cradled your still-warm cheek, and he wept. To have you taken away so easily through such a small accident… it was too much.

Venti didn’t attend your funeral. He couldn’t bear to. However, he forced himself to watch from a distance as your loved ones gathered around your grave. He fully empathized with their grief.

In the following days, one could often find Venti at a tavern. He started with Angel’s Share, but after consecutive days of heavy drinking and drunken ramblings about how remorseful he felt and how you deserved better, Diluc put a stop to Venti’s visits. The Anemo Archon wasn’t getting any better from drinking himself into a stupor until he could barely hold himself upright. It was heartbreaking to see.

Even after being banned from the Angel’s Share, Venti would visit other taverns in the city and rinse and repeat. He so badly wanted to numb the pain in his heart and forget the awful memory of your lifeless body. Only after several bans did Venti finally stop coming to the city altogether. He disappeared for a while, and nobody was able to find him. Only after many weeks did the bard suddenly pop up in the town square with his lyre in hand.

During his absence, Venti wrote a few songs as a way to cope with his grief, and after a while, finally felt well enough to play them. As a bard, he was well-known in Mondstadt for playing cheerful and beautiful tunes, but this time his melodies were melancholic, even sad. They listened to him sing about a love he can no longer say ‘I love you’ to anymore, someone he can no longer forge new memories with and can only carry on in his heart as a memory. The music he played captured the attention of every member of the audience and touched their hearts so deeply that they, too, could feel the sorrow the bard was trying to convey through his melodies. His pain became their pain, too. The heartache was so profound, so raw and crippling, that many people couldn’t hold back from crying.

Venti wasn’t playing the songs to earn money or share his sadness with others. He was playing them for you. He hoped that his feelings would reach you wherever you were and that your memory wouldn’t fade away even if he remained the last person alive who knew of your existence. His songs will keep your memory alive in the hearts of the Mondstadt citizens, never to be forgotten.

☂️ Wanderer

You have been fighting chronic sickness for months, but despite the treatments, each week you seemed to get worse and worse. Neither the doctors of Sumeru nor even Nahida herself could figure out a cure for your condition. You were bedridden with barely any strength to move. Wanderer took responsibility for nursing you back to health by helping you get to places you needed, cooking all your meals and feeding you, as well as getting your medicine and administering it.

Despite his efforts, you could tell you wouldn’t last long. While you still had the strength to talk, you apologized to him for being forced to part from him.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed, with a frown pulling at his lips. “Rather than talk about such nonsense, use that energy to get better instead.”

He didn’t want to face the facts, to accept the reality that you could disappear from his life. But then came a day where you no longer opened your eyes when he called your name, nor stirred when he tried to shake you awake. Your body was cold and stiff and so unlike what he was used to seeing you as. The life you possessed was gone in all senses of the word.

Something in Wanderer snapped that day. Falling to his knees, he let out a guttural scream that tore at his vocal cords. He unleashed a wail that carried all the anguish and misery he’d been keeping bottled up inside for hundreds of years. He’s lost so many people he cared for in the past. Each time he met someone he grew attached to, fate would always tear them away from him, and you were no exception.

He cried bitter tears in the privacy of your shared home, cursing Fate for doing this to him over and over again. He was angry and heartbroken. Though he lacked a real heart, the sensation in his chest felt like something inside him broke into a million tiny fragments. As if sharp needles pierced through his non-existent heart and caused him to scream until he lost his voice.

He wanted revenge, but how can one get vengeance against Fate itself?

You were gone, so cruelly torn away from his side despite his best efforts to keep you alive. You were the little ray of light that never gave up on him no matter how cold he was towards you or how much he pushed you away, and helped him heal little by little. You accepted him in his entirety and wormed your way into his non-existent heart, so how dare Fate mock him like this? Wanderer truly felt as if Fate was purposely torturing him by taking away all those whom he held dear.

Helpless and anguished, Wanderer reverted to the days when he used to be Scaramouche, the sixth of the Fatui Harbingers who was infamous for his callousness and mercilessness. His roiling emotions spurred him to repeat these spiteful acts against anyone who got in his way. It was the only way he knew of how to vent these overwhelming emotions that made him feel like he was choking on his grief.

It took Nahida’s interference to calm him down and get through to him that you wouldn’t want him to be like this. The Wanderer you fell in love with wasn’t such a hateful person driven by negative emotions, and though he was loathe to admit it, the God of Wisdom was right.

Having quelled the initial burst of wounded anger, Wanderer would think more clearly about what he should do from now on. He could keep all your items, photographs, and letters, but they would never replace you, only help preserve some of the memories attached to them, which a puppet like him had no need for. He won’t forget even the smallest thing about you, not as long as he’s alive.

Wanderer becomes a regular visitor of your grave, taking care of it so your name won’t be erased from the gravestone by time too quickly. He would frequently bring your favorite foods and flowers and place them in front of your grave, before taking a seat next to it and staring off into the distance without saying a word. He did this mostly at night so he could stargaze, just like how you both used to when you were alive.

Even centuries later, when everyone who knew you took their memories of you to their graves, Wanderer will remain to watch over your final resting place, unwavering in his devotion.

🐺 Wriothesley

You accompanied Wriothesley on another one of his swims out in the open waters surrounding the Fortress. Since you weren’t a vision holder, you had to wear a diving suit to breathe, unlike your beloved Duke. You’ve had these private little swim dates a few times before, so your guard was down when you swam through some jagged areas of the Fortress’s scaffolding. The shoulder of your diving suit caught on a sharp edge of metal and tore a hole in it. The tear was fairly large, and you panicked when you felt water rush inside your suit. Wriothesley was quick to freeze the hole and pull you up to the surface to get the suit off of you, but by the time he did, it was too late. You had inhaled too much water and were unresponsive. Wriothesley tried to keep his anxiety at bay and utilized all the CPR knowledge he learned from Sigewinne to try and save your life. He breathed air into your lungs and did chest compressions with enough force to hear your ribs crack, but even after 30 agonizing minutes of trying, you wouldn’t wake up.

Wriothesley had no choice but to accept the fact you died. Wriothesley doesn’t cry for you. He’s no stranger to death. His exposure to it in his younger years made him all too aware of how easy it is to die, and that death came for all without exception. As a result, he was able to accept your death a little easier than most, but it doesn’t mean he made peace with it. The staff and inmates at the Fortress all said Wriothesley looked the same as usual even after your death. He kept up his laidback yet intimidating demeanor and busied himself with the variety of work someone in his position was required to take care of. Only Sigewinne could tell that Wriothesley was not alright despite all the strained smiles he gave everyone. The bags under his eyes grew more prominent by the day, a clear indicator he wasn’t sleeping well. She saw how he threw himself into his work, barely taking any time to rest properly, as if wanting to keep his mind busy from the horrible memory of seeing your corpse. Though he tried to mask it, in truth, your death affected Wriothesley deeply. He had frequent nightmares about watching you drown and being unable to save you, and they would keep him up at night. He usually awoke in a cold sweat, his heart pounding from intense panic and dread until his mind cleared, only to be replaced with a stone-cold reality that made the feelings of guilt come rushing back. Out of habit, he turns to your side of the bed to seek comfort in your presence but seeing it cold and empty served as yet another harsh reminder that you were gone. Wriothesley can’t sleep after his nightmares, so he opts to work out or fuss over his gauntlets to distract himself from his feelings. It takes all his self-control to keep a lid on his emotions and not become the angry, irritable mess he knows he will be if he’s not careful.

When he makes tea, Wriothesley accidentally makes two cups out of habit. One for you and one for him. Even weeks after your passing, it was still a difficult habit to break. For the first while, Wriothesley would even stop drinking your favorite tea blend because it reminded him of you. Rather than enjoy the flavor, all he tastes is bile in his throat. The flavor of your favorite tea makes him nauseous because it makes him think about how you will never taste this again or have another tea date in his office.

There was one occasion when he tried to drink your tea shortly after your death. He thought maybe the flavor would remind him of the happy times he shared with you, but all it resulted in was a broken teacup from the force of his grip, and Sigewinne fussing over his cuts and burns. He didn’t drink your favorite blend for a long time after that, only being able to find enjoyment in it again many years later when the startlingly clear memory of your death didn’t hurt him as much. Wriothesley felt lonely without you. You were the friend and confidant he told his deepest and darkest secrets about his past, the comfort he sought after a difficult day, and the soothing presence that made him feel accepted for who he was without all the embellished titles. But after your passing, the Fortress of Meropide seemed cold and gloomy, as if devoid of the warmth it once had that made him call it home. It was as if your death snuffed out the little ray of warm sunshine he felt when spending time with you.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #heizou x reader #shikanoin heizou x reader #heizou shikanoin x reader #kaveh x reader #lyney x reader #neuvillette x reader #venti x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wriothesley x reader #For some reason Lyney's part is the longest

[anantaru]

DAY 12 — COCKWARMING

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — heizou, alhaitham, baizhu

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, cockwarming, tit play, teasing you to the brim like staaaaaahp, a sprinkle of brat taming because why not, mean genshin boys

𖧡 — HEIZOU

"ah- i could get used to this."

and needless to say, it feels good, largely to heizou though— especially when he shadows his skilled fingers over your bare chest because he knows it'll drive you insane, his hand slowly settling down on top of your breasts, squeezing and massaging the mounds before groping your tits, together with his cock slipping past the solidness of your slit— throbbing, pressing and stretching inside.

you cling to him for your dear life, the fulfillment of his erection jammed within the bounds of you swelling pussy, candidly battering your cunt when you attempt to press down on his hips, or perhaps move for that matter, instead whimpering sweetly as heizou stills your hips with a solid arm whilst the other pinches your aroused nipple and tugs on it ever so slightly.

you pout out deliberately, yearning for him so terribly you cannot help yourself but moan into his neck, "heizou.." you say, stumbling over your words, "don't tease me now.. please." and it's not necessarily something your boyfriend would consider teasing— especially since in his opinion, you should be utterly aware on how his real taunting looked like.

in the span of no time, it had gotten to the point where it became a game between you both, one which he would most likely end up winning the moment he shushes your cute sniffles with a kiss, idly shuffling in his seat before unintentionally (it was very much intentional) moving his cock and thrusting up hard against one cloying, pressing, spot.

"fuck— well, you faced worse before, haven't you?" his words, although dripping of artificial consideration, vibrate all the way from your pouty lips, to your sensitive nipples being played with, to your wet messy core slicking up his buried shaft, shortly gushing around it so much that a white, thick ring of whites took shape around the base of his cock— he’s still entirely buried in you, with that single thrust hitting you like a sudden hot fever dashing on top of your shoulders.

heizou continues to keep you pressed against his cock, one hand long since branding the flesh of your juddering hips— and it's almost bruising to you, long fingers plunging into the skin hard enough to make you wince out and beg again, only to be met with a cocked up brow, a wet smirk and an even deeper throb of his erection.

your quivering body was exceedingly past recovering by now and you helplessly swallow down a bubbling sob from your throat when he grinds inside you again, yet with barely any strength aiding the move— the stiffened veins of his erection melting with your walls that the combination of those very sensations heizou brought forth focused on intermittently inching you into madness.

𖧡 — ALHAITHAM

your thighs clamp against each side of alhaitham's hips while one arm freely closes around your waist, the last thing he'd want is for you to move and disturb his peace— whilst the other, well, was occupied in holding a book he was currently reading, adventurous eyes deciphering each and every little letter printed on top, eagerly memorizing and pondering about a much deeper, more crucial interpretation behind the portrayed story.

yet you're taking him just like he needed you to, raw and hard, while he barely gifts you any attention. ugh, some sort of punishment coming from the scribe? might be, but you knew alhaitham very well and that his mind simply wasn't wired that way, instead he probably thought that it would cost him far less effort to put two into one, pleasure and knowledge, as he referred to it, stitched together with both sides unable to slip past his grip.

it's mostly exhausting around your legs, specifically the insides of your thighs that began to stiffen and ache, forcing you to taste subtle early signs of lightheadedness from your desperate attempts to not move nor clench down on him so strongly.

another breathy gasp, and you let him know that you're obviously struggling with his cock being way too big and heavy to remain in that way without moving at the very least— a warm puddle of your arousal exuding from your hole and divulging at the foundation of his shaft, sending droplets of the mixture on the office floor.

"please, oh, please." you whine, suddenly flustered when you realize you just blurted those frenzied pleas out loud, establishing them right against the shell of his ears, his headphones since long disposed of and placed on the table next to you— whilst beyond questioning, besides the fact that alhaitham was wholly absorbed into the fantasy novel in his hand, he'd never pass up on an opportunity to listen to your short-lived whines, the cute weeps or the loud thuds of your heart beat reverberating against his chest.

"already?" he speaks softly before you meet his eyes, surprisingly enough his pupils were blown wide and you cannot even fathom this level of discipline when it probably hurt him too to not move at least an inch up and down your fluttering hole. "i barely started this chapter."

"then read faster!" you interrupt him, no, practically snap at him, nervously licking your lips as your hands run over his cheeks to make him kiss you, his raw erection throbbing at the bold move as he for once redirects his entire attention from that pestering, bothersome, annoying book in his hand that you would love to just dispose of entirely.

"okay, okay," the man shuffles around, "you better make it worth my time then." and he teases you, always, then drinks up a trembling moan that spumes up on your mouth as his quick tongue darts out to run around your lips and wet them with his saliva, your throat aching in excitement for what's about to come. 

alhaitham bites back a groan when you swiftly mould your walls over his cock, needful and slobbering your arousal once more— you're so soft there, ah, it never fails to amaze him. but to get himself on top of things again, most importantly to not lose himself in you, he traces your back up and down with his palm before teasingly rutting into your wet sex, it's barely perceivable to you and maybe that's what would ultimately tip you over the edge if alhaitham does not stop those cruel tactics.

although, pondering over his honesty, it's quite cute when you're frustrated and bitter because of a situation he put you in, or how much harder it was to stay disciplined in focusing on his book when a coat of a heavenly expression litters across your bristling cheeks— it just feels so dreamy to be inside you.

alhaitham might just look past the little shifts of your body that you sneaked between pauses, despite them offering you the tiniest teases and moments of friction on your overflowing hole, and yes, your leg muscles were screaming for some sort of pleasure, regardless keeping yourself still and happy to take his perfectly shaped length.

𖧡 — BAIZHU

you brace yourself, without further questioning settling on baizhu's lap before lining your slit up with his leaking cock— his pre like a translucent film sheer on top of the rosy tip.

and for the most part, this scenario appeared to be quite familiar to you— at the end of the day, your boyfriend could never be entirely satisfied when you ride him for hours, he needs it without pause. it warms his heart when you’re on top— as if you were somehow claiming him, his groans exuberant with lust, a velvet tune on your ears so exciting as you watch how he succumbs to the touch of being engulfed by a warm, soft cunt.

this time, although, something didn't align with previous scenarios— because the second you had pushed him in, touched up his shaft with your wetness, baizhu instantly places both hands on your moving hips, breathily laughing in both bliss and an ulterior emotion as he squeezes the flesh of your ass, your pretty noises almost making him decide against doing this right now.

of course, you try to lift your hips so you could bounce up and down, his cockhead snugly enclosed and piercing your swelling flesh as he spread you apart by his girth, your body desperately clinging against his chest and it's only then, when you realize what's going on, your hot, breathless moans garnering his gentle attention.

"uh?" you tilt your head to the side, then wince when his cock reaches impossibly deep and nudges over your sensitivity, the infused tingles of that singular drag holding you captive, intimately trapped within his arms, "ah— is something wrong?"

"no, nothing." baizhu coos, mouthing a wet spot over your jawline before slotting his lips over your own. you fall into a kind of daze when he keeps you strong against his thudding cock, your hands on his shoulders when you press your nails into the clothed skin, breathing deep, slow, at least trying but your attempts immediately fall flat when he offers your body some teases of friction.

"is something supposed to be wrong?" you're sweating at his words, your leg muscles screaming when you gaze at him through confused, widened eyes, "i- i'm not sure," you babble, the shivers in your lower area doing everything in their limited power to keep the pleasure going for as long as possible, anything to make you feel at least something but baizhu wouldn't let you.

"think harder, darling." he grins, letting the exposed warmth of your cunt wrap around his cock as he lifts you up, "is this better?" no, of course not, you panic, this was even worse and you whine at the lost fullness, leaning against him to wrap your arms around his neck, his cock head still nudging at your slit.

"it's not, it's not, it's not.." you can hardly move, and baizhu swallows down your mewls with a lick into your mouth, nibbling at your bottom lip before smirking when he feels how you're rolling your hips, or at least, try— despite that, you're being met with strong resistance again, wondering how someone such as baizhu, who was perceived as a frail man, suddenly claimed such sturdy force in his arms.

"easy now.." he whispers cruelly, and you can practically taste his amusement on your tongue.

"maybe then "i'll move."

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #heizou x reader #heizou smut #baizhu x reader #baizhu smut #al haitham x reader #al haitham smut #genshin x you #kinktober #genshin impact x you #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles

[upsidedownwithsteve]

A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.6K]

THE TIMELINE

“Love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature. Each of us, then, is a ‘matching half’ of a human whole…and each of us is always seeking the half that matches him.”

- Aristophanes, Plato’s Symposium.

I. ATHENS, GREECE: 8TH CENTURY BC

The gods were angry.

Or so you’d heard. It started with whispers. Murmurs from the town and its people. Rumours spread across Athens the same way the breeze did at the start of summer. They said the gods were angry, furious.

How could the mortals be so silly? How could they possibly rile their gods like this? Again?

Stupid humans, foolish humans.

You didn’t understand.

But then one morning before the sun rose, you awoke to a reddened sky and a heavy wind, a storm brewing over the horizon, a dark mass you could see above the sea from your bedroom window. Preachers took to the streets then, standing on the cobbles with bells ringing above their heads, warning every person listening about the end of times. It had happened before, they said, their faces masks of horror. It was happening again.

The gardens all died, grass turning black, crops to dust, life fleeing from the ocean as Poseidon uprooted the seafloor, waves crashing against the cliff's edge. Athens turned to decay, colour slipping from the world as the gods ruled over it from the skies and sea. A punishment fit for the crime, the elders said, telling stories at the marketplace, of how their own grandparents had once been born together, joined at the heart, four arms and four legs.

One soul.

They said Zeus came from Olympus, that he’d crashed down to earth riding a bolt of lightning and he ripped the mortals apart. They said it was a bloodshed, rivers of red running through the plazas, wells turning thick like tar.

Zeus cursed everyone, you heard. Your kind had been getting too prideful, too full of ego and greed and want for more. The gods feared an uprising, they sat on their thrones and they resented to power you all craved.

So they did something about it.

With their wounds left to heal on their own over months and years, each half of a mortal was thrown to different corners of the earth, destined to spend the rest of their lives searching for the other half of their soul.

It seemed nothing more than a fable, a horror story for children, something you would never have believed. Soulmates? Someone made just for you? An impossible notion, you were sure you would have once thought, if you hadn’t already met yours.

He was at the forge when the first bolt of lightning hit the ground.

The concrete split and temples on the cliff sides shook, the tiles on each home shattering as they fell. You heard people yelling from your garden as the ground shuddered and an eerie quiet followed. A hollow silence, a calm before a storm and then something else hit the ground too.

Bigger, heavier, more powerful.

You dropped your basket and ran.

Still barefoot, you left the sodden clothes on the grass and fled, passing the sanctuary of your home, the temples beyond the rivers, the forests that came before the sea. You ran to the plaza, through the marketplace that was buzzing with fear, shoulders burning with pain as you slammed your way past everyone who ran against you. You were battling a tidal wave of townsfolk, each one crying and yelling.

You heard shouts of Titans! Furies!

People yelled out names they once didn’t dare whisper, each word said like a curse. Cronus, Crius, Oceanus, Thea. Standing on the marble steps of the Parthenon, a preacher in guided robes had blood running down the side of his face, a cut on his head matting his greying hair. He was ashen, clutching at his scribes and shouting at the frenzied crowd below.

“Tartarus has risen!” He yelled, “the gates of Hades have opened and we, foolish mortals, shall pay for our sins! The father of gods shall come for us, he shall feast upon thy flesh and bone and—”

The preacher's harrowing words were cut off abruptly as another crack in the earth opened up. The shining marble split and the man fell through, the world itself swallowing him whole. You didn’t have time to react more than a strangled cry coming from somewhere deep in your chest. You clasped your hand to your mouth, fearing you’d lose your breakfast, that you’d become too dizzy to keep moving.

The ocean was growing closer, too tall waves and swirling, dark pools buried into its depths. Ships were being sucked under, their white sails the last thing you saw before they were swallowed by Poseidon’s fury. A golden chariot raced down from the sky, sparks flying in the air as it landed on the roof of the Acropolis. More marble shattered and Ares, the god of war, had landed on earth to do his duty.

By the time you reached the forge, the plaza was running red, just like the elders had said it would. The bronzed statue of Hephaestus that guarded the entrance to the blacksmiths had come to life, the god himself taking its form as he spewed fire across the village, molten heat and steel dripping from his large hands, coal crumbling at his feet. The air smelled like ash, like fire and death.

As you searched for him - your other half - eyes wide and frantic, your chest heaving, Hades stood in the shadows across the cobbled road. Inky black dripped from him, from his robes, his skin, his mouth. He looked ghoulish until he stepped into what was left of the daylight, a trick of the sun turning his gaunt face handsome. He grinned at you, each tooth pointed and sharp and he held out a hand. A pomegranate was placed in his palm, the fruit cracked open and the ruby seeds spilling out of it like tiny jewels. He beckoned you, a voice in your head whispering, silky, sultry, full of promises that couldn’t be real.

Surely eternal damnation was better than a fate like this?

You moved, your body not your own, one foot in front of the other, your hand outstretched. Images flashed through your head, dark swirls of three headed dogs, rivers made of souls and gates of bones. But when they opened, there was a garden, more beautiful than the ones in Athens, with their marble pillars and fountains that led into ponds. In this garden, temples stood gleaming and tall, with maidens dancing amongst rose bushes, naked and with hair to their waists. They waved to you, more scarlet coloured fruit held in their hands and they were laughing, singing, pulling you closer--

Another bolt of lightning - bigger and louder and brighter than before - hit the ground and the maidens disappeared. The god of the underworld grinned once more before he stepped back into the shadows and turned to smoke, melting into the bloodied ground.

Zeus had landed in Athens.

And you couldn’t find Steve.

Steve Harrington, son of the town’s head blacksmith, was tending to the forge when the first god came to earth. He’d left you in bed, the threadbare sheets around you still warm, your skin littered with his leftover kisses, marks from his greedy fingers the night before. The sky had been scarlet when he walked across the plaza and in the far distance, a plume of smoke rose from what seemed like the ocean. The Methana volcano was simmering, waiting, spewing fumes of gas and dust.

A warning.

The forge cracked when Zeus arrived, the bricks splitting along with the forge floor, cobbles and bricks turning to rubble under the men’s feet. Fire and coal tumbled from the cast iron cages, half made swords of burning steel falling at their feet. The sky above rumbled, the windows shattering as bolts of lightning hit the land and people screamed, torturous sounds that made Steve run blindly out into the plaza.

Some were kneeling, their heads bent and their palms open to the sky, to the gods. A sacrifice that was ignored. Others ran, diving into buildings that immediately fell on top of them and Steve watched in horror as people dropped before him, falling like sacks, crumpled to the ground as they clutched their chests in agony. They called out their lovers' names, their voices hoarse, pleading, desperate and all at once, a crowd surged behind Steve, carrying him with them, his shoulders burning at the momentum.

He had to find you.

The market was in ruins, once fresh vegetables and fruits now smashed into the concrete, the smell of baked bread hidden under burning embers. Panicked horses fled their owners and carts, almost knocking Steve to the ground as they tried to escape the carnage. The sea level was rising, the shadows of boat sails towering over marble buildings, the hulls of ships teetering closer to pillars that once held the statues of the gods now seeking revenge. Steve had been raised to honour them, to covet them, to fear them.

And he’d never felt as scared as he did when he spotted you across the square, eyes wide and not yet finding his, your gaze too trained on the statue of Aphrodite that was crashing down too close to you. The white marble hit the floor and shattered, sending clouds of dust and dirt into the already smoke filled air and you disappeared from Steve’s sight once more.

Panic flooded him, a fear like no other and suddenly the gods that reigned from the seas and skies didn’t seem as terrifying anymore.

He yelled your name, choking on the fumes from the fires that had started to rage all around, Hephaestus riding a cloud of black coals and burning embers as he let fire pour from his palms and open mouth, a gaping maw of molten lava that dripped from and melted everything and everyone it touched. Steve flung himself to the ground to avoid the flames, crawling desperately forward before he caught himself and began to run again, hissing as the gaps in his shoes filled with shards of broken stone. Red poured from the soles of his feet but he didn’t think anything could hurt as much as the thought of losing you.

Again, he screamed for you, the letters of your name hitching in his throat, scratching like glass and more people tore in front of his path, running from the destruction. Bodies fell before him, couples forever trapped in a lovers embrace, their faces hidden in each other's chests. They became one again, four arms, four legs, two faces.

Joined at a heart that was no longer beating.

Steve didn’t want to die without you.

He found you in the rubble as Zeus moved closer, a grey and white shadow of a man, a huge hulking figure that didn’t seem real. He didn’t look like his marble castings, the statues that were gilded with gold leaf. He wore no olive laurel on his head, he bore no kind smile nor gentle eyes. Instead he held bolts of lightning in his hands like swords, like spears, throwing them at his victims with cruel precision.

A storm followed him, bigger than anything Steve had ever seen before. It turned the red clouds above the god purple and black, an inky slurry of darkness and electricity crackled between spaces. The air buzzed and Steve’s skin prickled, the static making his ripped and bloodied shirt cling to his damp chest.

Poseidon had finally shown himself, emerging from the waves, his skin a sickly green, his eyes darker than the deepest depths of the sea he came from. He held a triton, seaweed hanging from its points, his body scarred and battered from the horrors he created in the oceans. He seemed too big, a giant, an almost titan and rain poured from Zeus’ purple clouds as he advanced onto Athens.

Steve saw your arm, a limp hand from beneath a pile of stone and he cried as he lifted each piece of what was once Aphrodite. The marble face of the goddess of love smiled warmly at him and it felt mocking, it felt like an arrow to the chest.

You were still alive, barely awake, nose dripping blood and a slice across your forehead that narrowly missed your eye. You cried when Steve pulled you free, his strong arms wrapped around your torso and you clung to him, barely daring to look at the horrors that surrounded you. He smelled like smoke and fire and the metal sting of blood, but under it all, there was something like home that still lay on his skin.

He seemed frantic, calling your name over and over until you nodded and said his back, like it was only upon hearing your voice that he believed you were alive. Steve sat amongst the debris of Aphrodite and held you, your weak frame pulled into his lap and he cradled you there, your head on his shoulder and your arms around his neck.

You weren’t sure what you coveted more fiercely, the young man or your last breath.

A shadow lingered nearby, listening to the soft murmurs you shared the pretty lies you both needed to hear as you told each other it would be okay. Hades stood close, statuesque and with black plumes at the bottom of his dark robes, a midnight blue cast over his skin. He looked like he’d never been close to looking human. He held a timepiece in one hand, a golden thing that ticked too loudly and he grinned at you and Steve, watching, waiting as two creatures by his feet held scrolls of names. They were made od nothing kind, created from bone and other people’s spines, their too long tails and forked tongues that flickered over the skin of the dead as they sent their souls below.

Steve knew he’d fight a god before he let them take you.

But he didn’t get such the luxury of battling for his lover. Zeus moved closer still, rain pouring harder, electricity making his hair stand on end. The father of gods himself stood tall before you both, his eyes as white as his long hair and beard. Nothing about him softened as he gazed down at you both intertwined, blood from each other staining your lover's skin.

Steve pulled you closer, his hand cupping the nape of your neck as he pushed your face to his throat, shielding you, protecting you. You clung to him tighter, hands fisting in the rags of his old shirt and you wondered if you’d ever get to see him again. If this life was it, if this was all you were allowed.

The two of you in the ruins of Athens, the goddess of love shattered at your feet. Four legs, four arms, two faces, one soul. Connected by a heart that seemed weaker than ever in the presence of something cruel.

Silence came before the crack, the world stilling, Athens at peace. You found solace in Steve, your nose pressed to his neck as you held onto him, praying for something painless. You pushed two kisses to his skin then, the side of his throat that seemed to make your lips fizz and Steve sucked in a breath, his lips at your temple, cherishing the last touch he got of you.

“I love you,” Steve whispered and his voice cracked on each word. Tears from his eyes stream the dirt on his face, running rivers down your cheek until they mixed with your own. “I’ll find you again. In the next life, and the next again. I prom—”

A bolt of lightning, so hot it felt frozen, struck the breath of space between your chests. Something inside of you cracked then, ribs splintering as the weapon found your heart and you couldn’t feel Steve’s arms around you anymore.

You couldn’t feel anything.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington oneshot

[chastiefoul]

regret pt. 2 | alhaitham

a/n: soooooooooo, this was a bit overdue.. hahaha... i apologize for the delay but it's here now!! short disclaimer though, if you expect a make up and lovey dovey scene on this one it's not happening sadly. this end up being more of a character study of the scribe somehow? like i was really going in there with his pov, but of course this esentially is the continuation of the part one so i hope you all enjoyed and sorry for being so late!!!! (more of a/n at the end!)

3k words!!! (wasn't kidding when i said i really went in there)

summary:

alhaitham's own emotion and how he dealt with it proved to be an obstacle for himself. how deep does his regret truly runs?

read part one here!

-

 alhaitham didn’t know before that the world could be this... quiet.

no, it’s more accurate to say that he couldn’t appreciate silence as he used to. there are pieces of you remaining across his day. at his office, on his way to lunch, the tavern, and even when he closed his eyes, persistently, you’re there. however those weren’t real, not anymore, since he himself was the one who had driven you away rather horribly.

and he shouldn’t regret it, he really shouldn’t. but he did.

he let out a sigh yet again, resting his eyes as he leaned back on his chair.

alhaitham hated vexatious things, especially stuff that had nothing to do with him. you, used to fell into this category. someone he shouldn’t bother with or care about, but you kept slithering in breaking what he thought was a solid wall. and uncharacteristically, he kept letting you. perhaps at a life-threatening moment where he had to tell the truth to live, he could consider admitting that he did not hate the way you smiled while you greeted him, or the way your eyebrow crinkled slightly with worry when you saw the piled up paper he had to tend on certain days. and even your lovable little pout when he told you he had skipped his meals. and it’s only now he realized that his useless pride wasn’t something worth holding onto if in exchange he would be missing all of these.

these bothersome yet endearing memories that refused to get out of his head. that he refused to forget.

and to think your last memory of him was him being so heartless—wait, come to think of it. was he ever nice towards you? was there ever a time where he didn’t treat you so cold?

alhaitham was stunned when he couldn’t find a positive response to both question. he felt like his heart was being clenched tightly. he had no choice but to go back to work, forced to stop his train of thoughts before he was overwhelmed.

it all had become so troublesome. too troublesome.

❀

alhaitham also had no idea how small the chance was of running into you, even though you both work at the same place. it’s news to him that if you hadn’t come to him all the time, you wouldn’t even be meeting at all.

the regret he felt just keep piling up.

now alhaitham found himself out from his office more often; in the library, or just walking around randon hallways to take a breather, these were all solely for the purpose that perhaps he would run into you. even just a glance for the briefest second, he thought he would be happy with just that. however it proved to be difficult since he hasn’t seen even a single strand of your hair for the past week.

and that’s when it happened, he saw a familiar figure walking towards him, it was like a slow-motion, something that he had been waiting to  happen. alhaitham’s inside was all thundering, he knew he’s been missing you, but he didn’t know it was this bad.

but all of that nerves and excitement died down as quick as it came, as you walked past him without sparing even a single glance. turns out you were just rushing to get to the hall behind him. the silver-haired man could only stand there, witnessing your back until it disappeared at the very last second at a turn. his stomach churned in the worst way possible.

that nonchalant, ignorance, reminded him of nothing but himself. he now realized that he’s way past a stage where a single apology would fix everything he’s done.

❀

alhaitham went home with a heavy feeling inside of his chest. it’s been that way for too many days now.

he thought pushing you out of his life was the hill he was going to die on, but he played himself. he grew accustomed to a world with you now he thought going back to his old routine was something he wanted. turns out far from it.

he needed you.

he arrived, and as alhaitham opened the door, he never expected the sudden hit on his right jaw, making him staggered as his back touched the door. “you deserved that one, and i think you know that,” kaveh said. alhaitham couldn’t even react; ah, (y/n) has told him all about it, then.

alhaitham who had no energy left from the lack of sleep and meals held his jaw carefully, sliding down the wall and sat on the floor. he wasn’t in any way hurt badly, since obviously he had a stronger physique than the blond, but the other part inside of his chest ached. as kaveh said, he deserved that one. although it’s a bit infuriating that the architect was the one who did that, alhaitham also knew that you’d never be able to do that to him. not that your strength was the problem, it’s just that you’re so very kind, even to people that don’t deserve it.

then if what it took to see you smile at him again was a punch to the face, he’d put his as a target gladly.

alhaitham was in a daze, couldn’t even bring himself to retort the harsh welcome, he’s just quiet. which was very unusual.

“what should i do?” he finally mumbled. “what?” kaveh widened his eyes at the response. “what can i do.. to fix this?” that was very surprising coming from the prideful man, kaveh had doubts that the man in front of him was really his room mate. but kaveh only sighed, and lent out his hand. “get up, let’s talk.”

after the scribe finished putting an ointment to the bruise, they both sat on the dining table. there was no noise for a while, until alhaitham decided to break that. “how is (y/n)?” he treaded carefully. “good actually, now that they’re free from a weight that’s dragging them down.” kaveh spat, the grey-haired man made a blank look. “-is what i liked to say. however they’re not doing very well.” his expression turned into something of a deep concern for a friend. “how so?” alhaitham’s voice too, spiked with worries. something that kaveh wasn’t really familiar with that he couldn’t help but chuckle. “you’re really a funny guy. now you’re worried? after treating them like that?” kaveh said, astonished by the audacity of his roommate.

“i’m aware that all of this is my fault.” alhaitham clenched his fist tightly, he didn’t need anyone to remind him that he was at fault, he never allowed himself to forget that. “i mean, how could you alhaitham?!” just thinking about it made kaveh blood boiled once more. you who had treated everyone so kind, especially alhaitham since he knew you had feelings for the scribe, and for him to trample on all of that, it was all just too much, too miserable. kaveh wasn’t stopping there. “to think they were just offering assistance too. if you don’t want help, then say no, don’t lash out like a goddamn child!”  the blond was beyond worked up, you were such an important friend to him. “we know dealing with emotions isn’t your forte, but that was low, alhaitham. even for you.” kaveh finally finished his piece. sometimes the architect wondered with how alhaitham talked and how blunt he was, a hit to the face should’ve been something he’s used to getting—or at least the attempt to, since we all knew he wasn’t a weak guy.

alhaitham could only agree, it was all true what kaveh has said. “i know! i know i messed up really badly, that’s why allow me to be shameless and ask for your help. i really regret it,” the sword-wielder meekly said. kaveh relented slightly at the sincere words he spouted once in a blue moon. he relaxed back into the chair, realizing that he needed his head to be in the right place to get through this conversation. silence loomed over them once more.

“why were you so worked up everytime you talked to them anyway?” kaveh asked, his tone solemn. alhaitham seemed to be pondering for a moment, “i... don’t know,” he said slowly, his eyebrow twitched slighly in frustration, once again he was forced to remember how much of a jerk he was to you sometimes. kaveh too, wails with frustration at the response.

he’s hopeless, utterly hopeless!

however the scholar did not stop there, “i was always alone as you know, and i was fine with that. but ever since (y/n) came into my life, i realized that i started to look forward on days i would meet them, i started to find their company very comfortable and that unsettled me.” he finally got to say the truth out loud. “and that fear what was made me so adamant to reject it. i hated the idea that single person could turn my whole life upside down easily like that.”

alhaitham thought he was protecting himself, turns out that that did nothing except hurting you in the process. before lashing out on you, he’s been keen on perusing books he normally avoid, he’d spend his time reading what he thought was unusual titles, in hope that one of them could teach him about the overwhelming sensation he’s been experiencing ever since meeting you. yet none of them succeed. he was having a hard time understanding things that didn’t have reasoning behind it, that didn’t have clear method or formula that provides a precise and accurate solution. he realized he was at a place he wasn’t familiar with, a place where the line of logic is blurred.

how the hell was he supposed to understand it?

“alhaitham, just answer me this. do you like (y/n)?” kaveh asked. alhaitham was stunned for a moment, but surprisingly the answer came easy, but he did not want the blond the hear it for the first time. he wanted you to hear it, no, he needed you to hear it. that he liked you, so so much that literally, literally, he did not know what to do with himself. and that’s when a gear turned on the back of his mind. you needed to hear it. and alhaitham was going to make sure you hear it.

❀

just your luck. it’s just your luck out of all the signature of the people in akademiya, the higher-up told you that you needed alhaitham’s for your project.

just. your. luck.

you knocked on his office, that terrible day flashes on your mind for a second, but you quickly pushed that thought. it’s all gonna be okay, you’re here for pure business, exactly like the way he liked it.

“come in,” a voice replied at the knock. you took a deep breath and went in.

you could see alhaitham’s face was startled for a moment; a brief slip up for the usually emotionless man. but you couldn’t careless, as you set the document on his desk rather urgently. “i need your signature, no need to read through the document as it’s already pre-approved and just needed your agreement for it to proceed.”

alhaitham was quiet as he stalled, wishing to stare at you for that few additional seconds. you had bags under your eye—alhaitham almost reached his hand out to touch over them but he stopped himself. he should know his place.

as soon as the pen left the paper, you snatched it from his desk, and went to make your way out from the hellhole. alhaitham’s shoulder slumped, he knew you’re still mad at him, but to think you’re that bothered just to be in the same room as him. how was he supposed to get you to talk to him?

❀

“good morning, (y/n),”

that’s when it happened. alhaitham on your office with a cup of coffee on his hand first thing in the morning. your jaw dropped slightly, you couldn’t believe your eyes. he put the coffee on your desk. he didn’t react strongly at the lack of response as he didn’t expect you to welcome him. "what are you doing?” you asked, your tone was cold.

“just.. visiting you and thought that maybe you’d like coffee,” he said, even he wasn’t certain of his own words. wasn’t this the same man who had tear you apart just a week ago just because you cared for him? now he wanted to talk you pretending all of that crap didn’t happen?

you laughed loudly, yet it sounded sad. “you must think i’m a joke, alhaitham,” you stated, throwing away the coffee in front of you to the trash bin next to you. the scholar in front of you now looked a little timid, it’s almost pitiful. “no- of course not!” he frantically retorted, “then i’ll ask once again, what are you doing here?” you crossed your arm.

“i wanted to apologize for my actions,” he firmly said, his expression sincere.

oh, is this what’s it all about? it’s regret. something you don’t need, what you need is for him to realize that you wanted nothing to do with him anymore. nothing.

he looked restless as he await for your response, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “why are you so nervous about, it’s not like you’re saying sorry to someone close to you or anything like that. anyways, apology accepted. anything else?”

at the stinging words his heart sunk, though his eyes widened at your response, “really?” that easy?

“yeah, now don’t come to this playground anymore, unless it’s strictly for business. good day,” you said, sitting back down getting back to your work. this is all new to alhaitham; feeling of wanting to jump out of the window. your harsh words, how easy it was for you to ignore you in a blink of an eye. and to think he did the same thing to you. no no, he did worse.

the difference is that your actions were justified, considering how much of an asshole he’s been to you. but him on the other hand, treated you just because he was a coward, not having the courage to face his own emotions.

alhaitham never thought he’d be envious of that specific trait of yours but right there as he stood in front of you, he wished that he understood all emotions in this world.

“please, please give me a chance to-“

“alhaitham, for someone as intelligent as you, there’s no way you didn’t understand what ‘strictly for business’ means, right?” you shot him down swiftly.

“just once. please. i won’t ask for anything anymore.” his voice was quiet, laced with utter desperation, that your conscience couldn’t help but respond to it. you were mad, but let’s not stoop to his level. you out of all people, was familiar with pain of being ignored by someone who you wanted to talk the most.

“you have one minute.” you finally relented.

“(y/n). i couldn’t be so shameless and ask you to forgive me, and while this may sound like a really bad excuse, i just wanted you to know that i didn’t mean any single word i said that time. as laughable as it was, i never wished for you to be hurt, especially on words that shouldn’t have meaning, words that i made up as a cowardly defense, words that had zero truth in them. i-i was scared that you changed my world so quickly that my initial reaction was to reject it, even though every time i met you i had nothing but pleasant warmth brimming in my chest. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry that you were hurt because of me.” it was all over the place, it may have missed a lot of points he had made on his head, but it was genuine. at this point with just this apology, alhaitham won’t be greedy and hoped his was accepted, he just wished that the wound on your heart that he had tore with his words would ease even just a little. because he truly, truly regret it.

you weren’t sure what to say, your eyes stopped at a window in the room.

“i.. don’t know what to say, alhaitham. all of this didn’t make the heartbreak i felt that day any less painful,” you mumbled, you could still remember it very vividly. “of course, that wasn’t my intention! i was stupid. i didn’t come here expecting you to welcome me with open arms, i just—very selfishly, realized now that i need you in my life, and i’m going to work very hard so you can at least tolerate that idea as well.” he was visibly stressed, his face filled with guilt. something you never thought he was capable of.

as much as you wanted to just push him away, you couldn’t ignore the emotional struggle he’s been having. you had no idea. though the reason excused nothing, you now had a better understanding of the man who’s standing right in front of you.

you sighed. “things are going to be very different, alhaitham. i sincerely hope you know that i’ll never come to you first again for anything ever. i never wanted to experience something like that again.” you said, setting out clear boundaries that what had happened in the past, was not going to happen for a second time. you’re going to make him work for it.

“i wouldn’t have it any other way. thank you so much (y/n), thank you,” alhaitham said, currently still feeling guilty because he knew the only reason he was getting a second chance was because your boundless kindness. he knew he didn’t deserve it, but he now was going to do everything in his power to accept him back into your life. which was something he did not expect to be easy, but he prefer it this way. he's beyond grateful that you had selflessly given him another chance to fight for you, and he's gonna fight like hell.

now alhaitham had hope. something he doesn’t really say out loud due to its nature being a bit childish, however at that time, he allowed himself to imagine a future with you, and how truly strange it was that the mere image of you being with him could make his stomach fluttered with pure joy.

alhaitham now understood very well that rationality did not work well with love.

and he’s okay with that.

-

more a/n: i love alhaitham but i wanna see him get punched once for the things he said hahaha..... that aside thank you all so so so so much for the interest on this fic that so many of you guys requested a part 2 :') i wanna say i had a blast writing this one. alhaitham is such an interesting character, especially regarding his relationship with emotions. once again thank you much and i'll be back with fluff soon so look out for that!!!

TAGLIST

@sunsethw4 @michikocoi @sassy-cat-in-town @potatoesenpaii @mis-disaster @bearbae4 @anemohusbando @aquamarine001 @aleahsyyyy @atsukawolfcat @xiao-bedo @r0ttenhearts @milkypompon @lacy-lady @redactedhimbo @vvyeislazzy @pufferfishgolfball @ittosoneandoniwife @levisbebe @silverninja48 @imkaaayy @saeyunn @gookimswife @kisum9 @akinaii @itsmebbyxm @esmegalathynius9 @spicycloudsalad @leche-de-coconut @sunflower124007 @mikismusings @xiamuyi @dancing-hillary @bewhyy @yourdailymemedelivery @lizzhearthz @bubblyjoonjoon @aloveablechaos @mechanicalbeat1 @ailinsano

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also should i make a general tag list??????

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact x you #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin angst #alhaitham angst #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader

[yostresswritinggirl]

What Do You Mean I'm The New Grand Sage?!

Alhaitham, Cyno, Tighnari, Kaveh x Grand Sage! Reader; separate, gender neutral

In some twisted turn of events, Lesser Lord Kusanali herself thought you are the best candidate for the position of the Akademiya's Grand Sage. From a Haravatat Researcher to soon running a whole region, how do you deal with this? And do the prodigal scholars approve of you?

'It's been weeks now and there's still no proper Grand Sage.'

'If it were me, I would have fired the two remaining sages, they might scheme as revenge.'

'How can we trust the choices of the next Grand Sage anyways? What if history repeats itself?'

Despite the House of Daena being respectfully quiet with only murmurs and mumbles from the surrounding entourage, these unspoken words taunt and occupy the mind of the Dendro Archon as she takes into account all the thoughts of her people regarding the matter.

All the candidates for the Grand Sage and other sage positions, as well as the exceptional figures of each darshan (some of which are familiar to her) crowd around the table where the Lesser Lord situated herself.

Unfortunately, based on Nahida's standards, none of them qualify for the position.

"Lesser Lord Kusanali?" Opening her eyes, Nahida tilts her head to the Scribe situated on a seat next to her, a quill unused in his hand. "Is something the matter?"

"Just deep in thought." Crossing her arms, the god of wisdom would hum to herself as she tapped her chin. "For example, what would the new Grand Sage do once they get appointed?" And with that, she closed her eyes again.

As expected, more thoughts filtered through her mind as the audience took the bait and began pondering on the provoking question in their minds.

'Just do what the past Grand Sage did? Minus the evil? This is easy.'

'As a Grand Sage, I would probably fire all the personnel, they can't be trusted.'

'Cultivate wisdom and govern Sumeru as best as possible, right?'

'With the Lesser Lord in power, probably just answer to what she wants.'

'Hm, to what extent did Azar mess up the system anyways? It would definitely be good to fix the things that he deliberately abused as soon as possible, right? The unnecessary laws, look into the international affair decisions he's done too, he might have signed contracts that would be damaging to Sumeru in the long run -'

A hit! But an unfamiliar voice. Opening her eyes, the god of wisdom looked around the area to look for the voice to match a face.

"Are you looking for something, Lord Kusanali?" Cyno straightened up on his stance by her side as he watched the archon stand on her seat. The action urged him to scan the area too, albeit for different reasons.

'Why am I thinking about this right now? I should really hurry home -'

"Over there!" The crowd parts like the sea as everyone in the area turned towards someone in researcher garb. Which looks to be... drenched in water. Looking up from wringing the sleeves of your robe, you finally notice all the attention on you.

"Ah! Sorry about the mess, I fell in the fountain in front of -"

"You shall be the new Grand Sage, (Y/N)."

The whole Akademiya seemed to have quieted down to the point that you could hear the individual droplets of water splatter from your hair on to the marble flooring of the House of Daena.

"Huh?"

And like catharsis, everyone exploded in exclamations of disbelief. Including you.

"With their determination alone, their steadfast effort is enough to shape them to the right person to hold the title of Grand Sage."

With the absence of the Akasha Terminal and the person that holds records of documentations and research, Alhaitham was reasonably the person that people flocked towards for information about you. Despite the inconvenience, there are a lucky few that the Scribe entertained.

The male personally knows you as a Haravatat graduate who researched about the current civilization and quality of life of Sumeru in great detail, something that honored your name for being their darshan's most cited thesis. And when asked about your eligibility to be the next Grand Sage, he repeats those words, even when the archon herself asked.

After all, he himself had been privy to that determination. Your dedication to graduate and use your knowledge to create something worthwhile, beneficial, purposeful. A kind of vigor for knowledge so pure and immense that not even he remembers having the same amount of passion.

Even now as he pretends to be occupied with his book, he watches as you practically lay on the huge table for Azar the Grand Sage in exhaustion, Alhaitham was confident that your sighs results from your worry of finding the best solution.

He lowers his eyes back to the pages just in time with you finally lifting your head. "Alhaitham?" He pretends the small smile was out of politeness, not because you have yet to get accustomed to being entirely formal with him.

"Yes, Future Grand Sage?" Alhaitham masks his voiceless laugh with the book in his hand at the sight of you huffing, sputtering at the foreign title.

"Azar had you draft the gazette when he makes up a new law or order, right?" He nods, you grip your head as if you were having a headache, which is quite likely at this point. "If you don't mind, do you think you can give me a copy of all of the laws he created? And the meeting transcripts too?"

"That is certainly doable. However," you straightened up when Alhaitham stood across the table to stare you eye to eye, placing his book on your table. "That would be hundreds of documents to go through, are you sure you're able to utilize that amount for your perusing?"

The expression on your face showed that you haven't exactly accounted that part. But there it was, that flicker in your eyes that captures you so perfectly, the perseverance that had always kept you afloat. Now he can bare witness to it. "I'm sure."

Even if he didn't have to, Alhaitham stayed by your side the whole time, assisting you about certain laws and contexts if you ever needed it.

And when you fell asleep on the table after hours of reading, he immediately placed his cape on your shoulders, because you needed it.

Surprisingly enough, Alhaitham is the one who puts in a good word about your designation out of all of them.

What they're unaware of is that he's quite fond of you and your prestige, being in the same darshan had him subtly defending you from the rumors other darshans/candidates spread.

You should be grateful that you have Alhaitham as your Scribe. Not only is he meticulous and dedicated to his work, but he acts as your assistant with how closely related your positions are.

Perhaps his usefulness and help also stems with the fact that he was the most recommended candidate before he declined, and the knowledge he had honestly makes him look like your master and you his apprentice.

A lot of times, you end up comparing yourself to him when you feel like you're lacking.

Thankfully, Alhaitham's perceptive made him aware of your tells, and knows when you're having such thoughts. He would try to derail that train of thought immediately, subtly remind you of your progress, or straight up tell you you're wrong.

For such an emotionless co-worker, he sure does well with being your hypeman.

"A lack of harmonious relationship with the archon, even with the people of Sumeru, became the downfall of Azar, . That level of respect is crucial in ensuring that history would not repeat itself."

As Lesser Lord Kusanali's main guardian, it was only logical that his beliefs about what the new grand sage should embody reflects that. And perhaps there were also some details that influenced his opinion, details that he would never elaborate on.

This isn't the first time he had been less receptive to the decisions of the archon (the first being the punishment of the Sages, if you can even call it that) but this one has more potential to go awry than any other.

His cold stare only grew colder, sharper, now that you've been assigned the highest seat in the Akademiya. You can tell his prejudices without him having to spell it out.

The harshest of glares usually happen when you request an audience with the god of wisdom, him always standing by her side in case you become hostile. Which is honestly quite a hilarious take - you? Harming a god? But with the history of the previous Grand Sage's you can't exactly call his fault.

In your case however, despite the stories of Cyno's job as the General Mahamatra, you never once feared the possibility of his judgment on you as an academic. After all, if you had done nothing bad, then you're out of his case, right? So as far as you know, this is your first time knowing about each other's presence.

Although, being nominated after you fell in the Akademiya's fountain and made a mess everywhere you walked certainly isn't the best first impression.

However, after one too many times you feel a chill up your spine yet see no one when you look around the area for a possible cause, you're starting to suspect that he may know you more than you know him.

"She's currently resting in the Sanctuary of Surasthana, don't -"

"Ah, no, I'm not here to ask about Lesser Lord Kusanali today." At your sheepish demeanor, Cyno opted to close his mouth and wait for your reason to approach him. So you continued. "I was actually hoping if you could accompany me to Aaru Village."

"The desert?" Why him?

"I've heard that you've been closely working with Lesser Lord Kusanali to rebuild the relations with the desert side of Sumeru." Your fidgeting made him notice the thick notebook tucked under your arm. "I wanted to ask questions about the details, as well as see for myself what else could be done."

There was a long pause of silence that passed by with you mostly avoiding looking into his eyes directly. Humbled but respectful. Cyno sighs. "You're not in proper attire to journey to the desert, nor do you have the proper equipment." Your gaze followed his retreating form until he stopped and looked over his shoulder to you. "Are you coming or what? Standing around does not count as preparing."

"Right! I'm on it!"

It was a long process, but you managed to convince Cyno of your worth, especially when it comes to your efforts to help the desert. He had seen it all himself and at this point he couldn't deny it any further.

Cyno would find his tailing to be out of security instead of suspicion, often times finding himself walking by your side as your protector whenever you had to go out. After all, you're still an important figure, your safety is high priority.

Soon, it would be you who he would go to concerning updates about the desert, hearing out your efforts for rehabilitation. Your desert internship program to help Setaria with her education efforts is by far his favorite.

Despite being the General Mahamatra, he found a bit of his job description changing: being the protector of the Dendro Archon and the new Grand Sage.

Whenever you have to cross to the desert to either talk with the village chief or negotiate with the Eremites, he would always find time in his schedule to be your escort.

Perhaps it was his mistake to doubt Alhaitham's judgment on this one. At the very least, Cyno became your ever reliable check-and-balance.

"At the end of the day, well intentions are enough of a factor to understand the path one would trek no matter the adversaries."

Tighnari was positive that he wouldn't have to deal with the Akademiya anymore after Lesser Lord Kusanali, maybe even enjoy a more peaceful life in the forest now that the Withering had stopped spawning together with Eleazar disappearing.

But of course, the exiled sages just had to be dropped into his forest for their 'tap on the wrist' punishment. Perhaps that would be the end of the Akademiya pestering him now that there's no need to exploit him for some evil scheme.

Well, the world had never been to kind to the forest watcher, what would make this any different? The hybrid would sigh as he watched a group donning Akademiya robes approach Ghandarva Ville, none of which he's familiar with.

This is a larger group compared to the ones the previous sages trying to coerce him back to the city brought - now that he squints, there seem to be Corps of Thirsty members tailing the group, too. This doesn't bode well at all.

At least Cyno's there. "And what business do you have in Ghandarva Ville to cause such a ruckus so early in the day?" Straight to the point, Tighnari stares dryly at the person that seems to be in charge of the group.

However, at the sight of Cyno freezing up in his peripheral, the forest watcher immediately realized that this is unlike any other encounters he had dealt with. Unlike the arrogance of the other scholars and sages, he could see how you looked conflicted from speaking.

"Seeing as you don't look to be well-informed," ah there's the Akademiya scholar he expected. The researcher gestures to you. "The Future Grand Sage is here to see the exiled former sages in hopes to interview them about their previous positions."

He wants to bite back, he really does - why was he not informed beforehand? Why are there so many personnel with you? How sure are they that you are not trying to conspire with Azar? Why are YOU the next grand sage?

"Alright." And he will never admit the relief he felt when your despondent look immediately lifted at his response. "It's a bit of a walk from here. And being the person assigned to oversee their training, I would like to be there during the exchange too."

"Thank you." You cut off the arrogant spokesperson before he even uttered a single word of protest, presenting a bulky journal in your hand to the forest watcher. "I actually prepared a set of questions to ask that you could verify -"

Old habits die hard, and admittedly, Tighnari didn't want to treat you more than the people he works with everyday, the people around you can easily do that for him. But he refrained from letting any past prejudice cloud his judgment on your character: there is undoubtedly something different about you in comparison to the old sages, and he didn't want his attitude to change that.

One day during one of your many visits however, Tighnari may have spilled a bit about his discontent about the attention your entourage brings to his forest. Even with you next in charge, he still dislikes bringing the affairs of the Akademiya to the forest rangers' territory.

He thought his words was out of pocket when letters of notice regarding your arrival ceased. Did you get all the information you needed from the sages? Or was what he said finally drove you away? That wasn't at all his intentions.

One random encounter brought him answer when the suspicious cloaked figure waving at him from behind a tree turned out to be you. "You said you didn't want my personnel to come so I decided to visit discreetly from now on."

At least you were... considerate. Conversation came easy without multiple glares constantly stabbing him in the back, talking about your progress as well as the conditions of Ghandarva Ville on the way to the training area of the sages.

While he was wary and skeptical about your appointment despite his utmost trust in the dendro archon's judgment, Tighnari soon came to accept your honesty and determination.

That transparency and good-intended perseverance are what Azar lacked, but under your rule, perhaps Sumeru would really be in good hands now.

Tighnari leaned against the tree as he watched your passionate discussion with the previous Haravatat sage. Undeniably, you as you are now without the title, greatly reminds him of someone dear.

"We've long realized that wisdom alone begets arrogance. Perhaps fixing the prejudices against the pursuit of art and whatever this and that Azar has gotten his grubby hands on should be first priority."

"Let me through! I must speak with them, this is important matter, too! If the new grand sage is really -"

Turning your head towards the commotion, your conversation with Alhaitham ended shortly as a tuft of blonde became visible from the sea of Mahamata's trying to keep him away from you.

Patting the imaginary dust off his sleeves, Kaveh would look into your baffled gaze with unyielding resolve. "I've heard you had been meticulously gathering the opinions of Sumeru and thought I could be of help."

"Exercise some tact, Kaveh, we're in the presence of the appointed Grand Sage here."

"I don't need your sass today, Scribe -"

"No, it's fine, Alhaitham. I was actually planning on talking to Kaveh at some point, anyways." Wait, you are? Kaveh dumbfoundedly asked as he watched you move a few books around to get to a worn out journal under the pile. "I assume you're here to represent the arts."

Besides the conversation, Kaveh insists he takes you out to the Bazaar and his magnum opus to properly showcase the culture. Alhaitham, who looked positively displeased of the impromptu outing, had to stay back to focus on documenting a new batch of submitted thesis.

It was endearing to see someone as passionate about change in Sumeru as you talk about the harmful acts Azar published against the Bazaar and the pursuit of arts. Well, what else can you expect from the Light of the Kshahrewar?

Talking to him about anything and everything felt like you were conversing with friends, a very vocal and expressive friend. Especially when you're introduced to the Palace of Alcazarzaray, something he looks at with both pride and regret.

"I am simply making sure that Alhaitham had not brainwashed you with his sense of morality. Knowing him, you won't gather such thoughts about the importance of arts from him."

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention." You really were, after running around from here to both ends of Sumeru, you're very grateful that your source of info decided to come to you instead. "It's not an easy feat trying to undo 500 years worth of corruption."

"I can already see how Sumeru would be under your care." He flashes a genuine smile. "Thank you for hearing me out as well, future Grand Sage, I'm rooting for you. You're already doing much better than the previous Grand Sage."

It was a simple reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, but when he finally sobered up from the feeling of elation, Kaveh can't help but scream to his pillow about how buddy-buddy he acted to THE FUTURE GRAND SAGE!

Kaveh offers a fresh perspective and a lighter, reassuring encouragement in comparison. Perhaps being the person who knows less of the details helped form a positive judgment.

Like Tighnari, he keeps a level-headed approach when it comes to your position, but less about respect and more on shared beliefs.

When it comes to efforts to rehabilitate certain areas, Kaveh is always quick to offer his guidance and opinion. He knows you trust him due to his honesty and genuine want for a better future for Sumeru.

He's also the type to casually waltz in to your office when he has a brilliant idea or important information to share. At this point, he's talked to you more than the new Kshahrewar sage - if he's so adamant to be heard, why didn't he accept the nomination?

Whenever he stumbles upon you when you're outside or he sees you pondering the giant orb™ in your office, he's quick to voice his concern and urge you to take a break.

His intentions recently are hard to read, but he really does believe in you, and he's not shy to voice that fact.

You just find yourself missing the quietness of your office before Alhaitham and Kaveh's banter in front of your table became commonplace.

"The Akademiya and Sumeru as a whole would surely flourish under this new samsara if I were to lead it with you by my side."

Lesser Lord Kusanali gives a knowing look at the sight of you standing straight in the presence of the archon, opting to offer your seat (which she declined) and refusing to sit down as a sign of respect.

She didn't need to read your mind to know. "How have you been? I've heard from the others that you've been working really hard to prepare for your inauguration."

Conscious, you pulled at the grey sleeve signifying your position as the current sage of Haravatat. Admittedly, it was a little stiff and stuffy for you, thicker and more uncomfortable than your uniforms in the Akademiya as a scholar and researcher. You missed those times.

"I've gathered a lot of opinions and information about operating as a sage as well as the current matters of Sumeru." Nahida smiles widely at this, before her expression faltered when you still had a bothered look on your face.

As far as she knows, you've gathered all the resources you need, more than you need even. So why do you seem troubled still despite your meticulous preparation? "Is there something in your mind?"

"I don't - I respect your wisdom, I really do and I'm honored that you think of me this way. But I'm - is this really the right decision? Am I really fit for this?"

Oh, so it's about that! You looked up from your journal laying on the table at the sound of the dendro archon's giggles, not at all expecting that reaction. Was your question that laughable?

"Not at all, I'm just amazed that you haven't noticed." Floating over to where you stood, her tiny hands reached up to give you - head pats? Embarrassed but too scared to deny, you took the gesture. "Since that day, I was certain that there would be no other puzzle piece that would fit the position of Grand Sage other than you."

You part your lips to interject, but she was quicker.

"And besides, there are many who share my view. I'm not the only one who believes in you, and you will see it for yourself when the time comes."

"When the time comes?" Holding on to your hand, Nahida starts pulling you towards the elevator and out of the House of Daena. Only when you reached the double doors of the Akademiya did she finally let go.

"You have these doubts because you are a good person, (Y/N). And even then, your own thoughts cloud your mind from seeing that the only person that doubts you now," Nahida would gesture towards the door. "Is you."

Looking back and forth between the entrance and Nahida's encouraging smile, you took a deep breath before pushing open the door -

Only to be met by a roar of cheers and explosion of applause.

Your fellow Sages, Alhaitham, Cyno, Kaveh, even Tighnari (with his ears pressed down) stood near the entrance with smiles of their own. But looking past the Akademiya staff and scholars, a crowd made up of Sumeru citizens from Port Ormos, the Bazaar, Ghandarva Ville, and even Aaru Village occupy the platform and every inch of the paths going up and down the Divine Tree.

Their collective chants mixed together to convey their utmost respect and belief in you.

"Every single one of them are here to root for you," turning to your side, Nahida stood next to you with a gray hat cradled on her palms. "Grand Sage."

Biting your lip to stop a big wobbly grin, you finally let out a relieved sigh as you kneeled in front of the god of wisdom, closing your eyes as she walked forward to place the hat of the Grand Sage on your head.

"People of Sumeru, may I present to you the new Grand Sage, (Y/N)."

The overwhelming amount of support from everyone made you take off your monocle to rub at your eyes.

And when your biggest supporters stepped forward to congratulate you, everything felt just right.

You got this.

Can't believe my random idea got written first lmaao alright we're in the good feels arc now

@ireallylikehamsters

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #gender neutral #cyno x reader #alhaitham x reader #tighnari x reader #kaveh x reader #exile.flower #sumeru arc #cyno #kaveh #alhaitham #tighnari

[lazywriters-blog]

QUIET + QUIET = NAUGHTY

YANDERE ALHAITHAM

Summary: Alhaitham used to be your mentor, and after leaving him behind and pursuing another career, he finds a way to bind you to him. [This was sitting in my drafts for so long that I decided to just publish it so if it's bad, my bad lol.]

Warning: This may contain triggering content, read at your discretion. Implied rape, forced pregnancy, and manipulation. Alhaitham is a piece of shit in this-

You had a dream that didn't feel like one.

Your mind is clear and you remember something was amiss the night you fell asleep, so you are certain whatever glimpse you recall was truthful. You could never imagine yourself having a wet dream about someone you disapproved of.

Despite the man's appearance attracting you to him, there's just something about him you don't like. Perhaps sitting here and watching him read his book made you a crazed fangirl, but you were a decent human being with decent expectations.

And alhaitham was one exception you'd avoid till the end, even with the tolerance level you had, he went past above and beyond that.

Seeing him so far away from you felt odd, having a realistic dream was different but feeling it and knowing you felt it was different! You couldn't make up such fantasies even if you wanted to. You did not invite him into your dreamland and never would, he's the type of man with stoic feelings and selfishness with good reasons for it.

You also had a hate-love relationship with the scribe, he's an asshole who nagged you to do everything perfectly when you were in front of him and made you feel unqualified. You'd admit you weren't good, but the humiliation was taking it a bit too far when he'd speak loud and clear for everyone to hear and think about it.

You aren't a failed test subject to show.

Nonetheless, you had forgotten about it and moved on to a better place in life, so his abrupt existence was cutting it too close.

But, trying to talk to him just seemed wrong. Comforting him seemed childish, and unnecessary when you could live on with the fact you had a wet dream about him, but past that, he's close to an enemy to you.

He closed his book and settled it on the table, folding his arms and glancing straight toward you, so he knew you were here. Copying his position you glared, feeling something nasty within you grow and you had no shame in expressing that to the man.

Grinning wide, you tilted your head and quietly mouthed 'Fuck you.' briefly pulling up your hand and pointing a middle finger, throwing him one last look you got up and walked away.

If that incident earned you a bad reputation, you knew exactly who was behind it.

The next sign you discovered that your dream wasn't as fake as you made it out to be, was when you woke up nauseous and threw up, you figured it was a mash of bad food combination that made you queasy.

And denial was hard, how were you going to explain it even if it was true? 'I think it has something to do with the wet dream I had with my enemy and I think I'm pregnant?' just thinking about it you feel delusional you couldn't fathom how crazy you would sound to the others, you weren't lost in the head.

You had your toes on solid ground and weren't making stuff up on thin air, nor because you were living alone and thinking having a new member would cure it.

You'd never be that desperate.

"You are showing clear symptoms of pregnancy." He's saying it and you don't like the tone of his voice, he's saying it to get revenge for your past interaction, you are sure.

"Your skin is glowing, and the bump you are trying to hide isn't doing much," he added, like salt to a wound. You forced a smile, thinking to yourself that staying indoors today would have been so much better than facing him in all his selfish glory.

"And would you happen to know who did it?" You sniped back, "How do you even know that I've gotten fat unless you've been watching me, pervert, learn to lower your eyes."

"It shouldn't take a genius to know that a woman is carrying a child. It's a blessing you're hiding."

"You're saying it as if it's your child." she would know after years of suffering under him, that he would make her the fool and him the trustworthy one, and she didn't want to give him a chance. So if he wants to play dumb, she'll cut him open.

He chuckled, a rare gesture from him she saw only once, "Should we have a paternity test?" why did he sound so smug and certain?

"Is this your indirect way of saying that I'm crazy? That you impregnated me?" he stayed quiet and satisfied, all the trouble he was causing her and the damage it would bring to her reputation was unnerving, he was doing it on purpose. She was sure!!

"You are a monster." She could strangle him right now if they weren't in public.

He smiled, not breaking eye contact and continuing to maintain it. "Who would believe you?"

#yandere imagines #yandere #yan yan #yandere drabble #yandere oneshot #yandere alhaitham #al haitam x reader #alhaitham #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #al haithem #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin imagines

[orange-orchard-system]

Sometimes I wonder what life was like for plurals of the past. By that I mean – we know of the history of asylums and social outcasting of anyone who did not fit mental or behavioral norms of the past, yes (trends that have continued, although less common and in new forms, into the modern day), maybe even sometimes of those whose plurality was/is part of their culture (so important, and yet so rarely am I able to learn about them), but what of those who flew under the radar? Those who did not know of their own plurality, or perhaps knew, but kept it secret?

How many philosophers and scientists came up with their ideas by conversing with their headmates?

What of the authors who thought speaking directly to your characters on how their story goes was a universal writing experience?

Did any plural leaders who sought the guidance of their council assume that all the advice given to them was decided upon through an internal meeting of selves, just like how they made decisions?

Were there artists who couldn't find the words to explain their drawings were of their headmates? Storytellers who told tales from their exomemories? Record keepers, secretaries, and scribes who were so good at their jobs because they had practice from having to leave records for themselves?

When and where were the plurals like us?

I see hints of potential plurals of history, sometimes – typically in discussions of the self made by poets or philosophers. And there are a few cases that stand out as evidence that we have always been here. But plurality is so often a personal experience, with any observable behavior often brushed over, shunted away from others' knowledge, or just lost in records muddled by how difficult they are to find, that it's hard to make any theories or guesses about the plurals who might have been. Especially with how we're still barely known to most people; there would have been even fewer opportunities for these plurals of the past to find themselves and words for who they are.

It's... something I think about, when I'm looking at studies or learning about history.

Did plural gentleman living in England during the Victorian era get an unexplained thrill whenever they wrote of themselves in the third person for letters, per proper etiquette? Would they have any idea why referring to themselves in the third person felt right, the same way it can feel right for systems referring to themselves by their bodily name today?

Well. How should I know?

But I hope plurals of the past were able to have moments of plural joy, too.

#plurality #pluralgang #actuallyplural #plural system #actuallymultiple #front soup.txt #history

[starsarefire824]

The Star

"In a general context, The Star indicates hope for the future, inspiration and contentment. With this Major Arcana card it evokes very positive feelings, motivated and free. The Star brings hope, renewed power, and strength to carry on with life. It shows how abundantly blessed you are by the universe as evidenced by the various things around you. It may not be directly evident at the moment, for this card follows the trauma of the Tower card. The Star indicates that you have come through the tough times with a renewed sense of self and the world around you. It is full of calm, well-balanced energy and represents the openness to healing wounds of the past. Whatever mental, emotional, physical or spiritual issues that were experienced...they are now behind you. You are ready to embrace what your future holds. Trust that the universe has a plan for you and trust the feeling you have that everything is going to be okay.  The card represents confidence and trust that people will like you for who you are. The Star can also indicate creativity and artistic flair. " "When the Star card is reversed, it means that you are feeling as though everything has turned against you. The challenges that you would normally see as exciting seem instead to make you feel as though you cannot overcome them. You have lost faith in something, whether inside yourself or with something you normally find dear.  Without hope, without faith, we cannot find the motivation to progress forward in the challenges that we face. Where in your life are you feeling hopeless? In what ways do you already feel defeated? And how does that affect your actions? The star reversed asks us to nurture our sense of hope and positive energy to help propel our actions with joy instead of fear. " The bird is an Ibis. In the Star card it is perched by the tree. It is associated with the Egyptian God Thoth, the scribe of the Egyptian pantheon that is associated with learning, science, magic and the moon. Thoth was often depicted as a healer and an arbiter.

This is the first I chose in a Stranger Things Tarot set I am starting. I think in the past I would have seen Will as the Hanged Man or The Fool, but with Season 4 and the prospect of Season 5 I think The Star is a perfect fit for him. <3

@cloudycleric @wheelersboy @perexcri @foodiewithdahoodie

#will byers #byler #tarot cards #the star #stranger things #mike wheeler #stranger things fanart #will byers fanart #stranger things tarot #my art #byler fanart #byler art #henry creel #vecna #the upside down

[kutikuzushi]

alhaitham x scholar!gn!reader

a/n: first post on here woo! i used to post x reader stuff about 3 years ago on here and i'm just starting to get back into it. So apologies if I'm a bit rusty...

You had honestly forgotten how long you'd been sitting in the Akademiya’s library, in your little corner of the large, empty space, save for a few wandering scholars finishing things up.

All the words on the textbooks and scrolls you were trying to read seemed to blur together if you looked at them for over a second. No matter how many times you rubbed your eyes or blinked your eyes refused to focus. How annoying...

You hadn't even heard the footsteps walking towards you until the book in between your fingers was snatched up, snapping you from your daze. Your gaze turns up, confusion turning onto mild annoyance once your eyes laid upon the scribe in front of you... Well, you suppose he's the Acting Grand Sage right now. Though you had no clue how someone as... self-centred as him landed such a role.

"What in archons name do you want, Alhaitham?" The words rolled off your tongue a lot harsher than you anticipated, brushing the hair out of your face with your hand as you grimaced at him. Though he didn't seem to care less about your unpleasant mood.

"... Do you not know what time it is?" Alhaitham had asked with a tinge of scrutiny, a bit annoyed to see you in such a mess, it seemed. Your hair is messy and your eyes baggy and tired, huddled in the corner with a few stacks of books, almost finished.

"Like... noon...?" You guessed, though in actuality you had no clue what time it was, it was difficult to tell from inside the Academiya. Though, you could've sworn you weren't here for too long, so you couldn't be too far off.

"It's almost midnight," Well, you were wrong. You almost choked on your breath hearing Alhaitham say that so nonchalantly. You hear the man sighing as he crosses his arms, the book that he'd rudely taken from you still in hand.

"As much as I don't want to but into your personal life, you've been doing this more regularly these past weeks," He said, referring to studying yourself until you can't even think or see straight. As much as you wanted to argue, because he was being an asshole about it, you couldn't, he was right.

"... So are you here just to ridicule me?" You ask with a frown and furrowed brows, stretching out your legs on the ground to bring mobility back to them. Your whole body felt stiff and sore, had you really been sitting here for almost the whole day?

"No, I'm here to tell you to go home, you look like a mess," Alhaitham was blunt about it, as he always is, and it made you irk a little. Couldn't he try to be a little bit more nice?

"Alright, don't need to tell me twice..." You mumble in annoyance as you slowly lift yourself, holding onto the bookshelf behind you for extra stability. Your legs felt like jelly once you were standing on them, weak and unstable from lack of use for hours, sitting on top of them wouldn't have helped much either... Not to mention how tired you felt.

"You can leave now—!?" You couldn't even finish your sentence when you tripped over the small stack of books that were beside you, your foot getting caught between the books. You squeezed your eyes shut, fully expecting to fall flat on your face. Though, you notice that you didn't even hit the floor, and slowly opened your eyes.

"You're a clutz," You hear Alhaitham say to you, noticing something wrapped around your torso... his arm. He'd stopped you from falling, what a gentleman, you couldn't help but think sarcastically, "No need to suddenly act all chivalrous, Alhaitham..."

"Would you prefer I let you fall and hurt yourself?" The man asked rhetorically as he helped you stand up straight, an arm staying around you the whole time to support your weight. You couldn't help but feel warm at the close contact. God, you were touch starved.

"... Just help me walk home," You say with a sigh, not bothering to fight his logic, he was right after all. He's always right, which is what pissed you off about him. Though, at least he was helping you now... So you suppose he isn't too bad.

#reader #gn reader #male reader #y/n #gn y/n #male y/n #x reader #x gn reader #x male reader #x y/n #x gn y/n #x male y/n #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x male reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x gn reader #alhaitham x male reader #al haitham

[notjuststardust]

Trellises Lawxchronic pain reader

Pure fluff. This is self-indulgent, specifically catered toward those with scoliosis but I thought it was cute so I wanted to share! Just Law and reader being good friends who have eyes for eachother is all.

TW: None

The minute you started scribbling with your non dominant hand Law knew something was wrong. You’d been quiet, a trait normally foreign to your bubbly soft natured self. When you were quiet it could mean an array of things but he had a list of possibilities. 

 He saw your sunken lids, how they dragged the life from your plump cheekbones all the way down to the blank stare you have the work in front of you. If you were menstruating you’d be snacking and there was nothing in your mouth other than the kiss of teeth.

 Propping chin in hand Law tilts his head in your direction, eyes lasered in on your shoulder at rest. A shoulder you had constant trouble with due to surgeries as a kid. “I didn’t know you were left handed.” He comments, not even trying to feign the sarcasm dripping from his tongue. Slowly, you looked up at him through lowered lashes (y/e/c) eyes void of mischief.

 “I’m not.” He puffs out a dwarfed scoff, standing from his chair to ease over to your end. 

 “Have you been sleeping?” He furthers, stalking over to face you, brows propped but you back away from his nearing inquisition. These conversations were never fun.

 “Yes.” You answer, evading his eyes to deter his advance but your Captain isn’t allowing that, at least not today and you could tell by the annoyed jut of his lip when he reigned to continue. “6 hours. Yes, I’m drinking water. No, I have not pooped. I took 600 mg’s of ibuprofen and the pain level is an 8 out of 10.” You decide to relent and Law is forced to shut his gaping mouth.

 You’d definitely prepared that beforehand. His shoulders slack, drawing toward the medicine cabinet in the far corner. He knows better than to ask why you hadn’t brought it up earlier, you just didn’t want to ‘bother’ him. He could argue but you were past the point of reason and teetering on the edge of crying out.

 Now wasn’t the time for one of his ‘talks’.

 Propping open the medicine cabinet he searches, body turned to watch in case there was something else you’d been hiding. He flicks through your prescriptions once, twice, three times before he concludes the prescription you needed wasn’t here.

 Great.

 “Did you put in a refill request?” Your captain drags a hand over his face, pinching the square of his jaw when he peers over at you hunched at his desk. You just stare at him before flitting your gaze toward the door, heaving a sigh and shaking your head. 

 “I can’t work if I’m on the muscle relaxers. I just wanted pain meds.” You mutter as Law barely restrains an annoyed growl. Even so his teeth grind making you turn away just enough to inform him you were appeasing him instead of advocating.

 “That’s the whole point of them. It calms the muscle to make the inflammation go down,” he explains despite your medical knowledge on this matter, after all you had this conversation over a year ago but you were stubborn as a mule when it came to making yourself useful. “I need my scribe in working condition.” He grumbles, pulling a tube of pain reliever from your cubby. 

 You quiet as he approaches, aware that he’s never referred to you as ‘his scribe’ in his entire life, it was silent endearment to persuade you to be honest. Yet you weren’t sure if you had the heart to be right now.

 “I am working though.” You twirl your pen in your non dominant hand, trying and failing to demonstrate the lovely penmanship he so admired you for. Letting out a frustrated sigh Law plucks the utensil from your hand and pops it down into his pen jar, gloving up as if he’s about ready for surgery as he cautiously eyes you over.

 You were delicate now. Robbed of good rest and swollen with inflammation however if he didn’t step into his role you’d give until your altar was empty of offerings.

 He wasn’t your God but you had always served him and everyone else around you as greater than yourself. This was no different and he couldn’t bare to do nothing about it this time

 “Consider yourself on temporary leave then.” He fails to break eye contact in time, but he catches the heartbreak in his peripherals, raw and dependent on him taking it back.

 “Law, that’s not fair and you know it-“ you lunge to a stand before your hand shields your shoulder, breaking that confidence. 

 “And you think working yourself to death is?” He forwards you, body pressuring you back into an appeasing sit in your chair. You don’t answer but your eyes glass and lets his fingers brush your hair over the opposing shoulder and tease your shirt so he can further inspect. “How long?” He asks though he doesn’t have to. It’s swollen like a balloon, redness spreading up the blade of your shoulder to the edge of your neck. He wants you to say it. To admit you’ve been purposefully neglecting yourself to care for everyone else but instead you give a pathetic sniffle before you quiver and break into sobs. Tears trickle down your cheeks and his irritants dissipates into a pool of sympathy only reserved for you.

 He tries to get out something, anything that would salve the emotional strain you had been burdened over but no amount of empathy can. He does not have the gift of easing your worries like you do him. If anything his words tend to be a blade to an already festering wound whilst yours carry a melodic ease to even his most persistent emotional aches. You could spin corpses back to life with your words, mold graves into gardens but he only had his hands.

So instead he rolls the numbing cream into the ball of your shoulder with soft thumbs, allowing you the courtesy of a moment to yourself despite the exposition of feelings you’d much rather keep locked up.

 It wasn’t your fault that a life saving surgery had left you on the verge of crippling and selfishly, he’d much rather this than your corpse. You’d only been 12 when your spine had started easing further and further into your heart, putting tension against the much needed organ. Metal had been fused into the bones of your spine to keep it straight and that pressure left a considerable strain on your lumbar. Not only that but there was no saving the oblong shift of your shoulders and hips due to the scoliosis.

 With that considered you still wanted to be involved, helpful to Law and the crew when your pain had started in the following years. You were a writer and you refused to live your life only in the pages of stories spun with sweet words. You wanted to experience life and even your captain, persistent and logistic as he was, hadn't been able to deter you from your quest.

 You quiet at his silent affection, thinking it nothing more than something he has to do for his job but Law knows its more than that. He could have just tossed you the gloves and allowed you to apply the ointment yourself but he wanted to be of service as more then a doctor if even for a moment. He wanted to be of comfort and it must have worked because your tears quieted and you relaxed into his touch.

 After all if he voiced that he could have made you do it you would have because you don’t accept outside help.

 Hence why any accommodations he had strung for you in the Polar Tang went among the unsaids in the submarine. Normal chairs bothered you yet you had one so Law had instructed Bepo to test it. The thing shattered into broken splintered in minutes and Law hiding behind the guise of a safety check had promised to get you another. What came in the mail though was not a normal chair though. The thing was practically a throne, spun together by chiropractic plush to nurture your back when you used it. When the complexities were mentioned Law had just said it was on sale. You hadn’t questioned it further. After that he had allowed Shachi and Penguin access to your bathroom where they practically made the shower go up in smoke, since it now needed repairs. Law had a sit down shower with a sneaky call button in case you may ever need it. The subtleties did not go so unnoticed with that one and Law had to then install special buttons to all bathrooms from the suggestion of Penguin and Shachi.

 You had always had suspicions but never proof and you were smarter then to question your captain based on pure assumption.

 “I’ll call in your refill. The earliest it will be here is tomorrow-” Your stillness hushes him, the weight of your cheek just a little too heavy against his knuckles as a little snore slips between your lips. He blinks, leaning up and over to see your mouth wide open and teary eyes slid shut. An impressed ‘hmm’ whisps between his teeth, a grin imperceptible etching into his lips. That's until he realizes if he moves an inch yu’ll wake. He ponders the notion of moving anyway and getting you comfortable on a cot but decides otherwise when he realizes the peace settled on your face.In the end he stays. 1 hour. Then 2 and footsteps explode down the hallway like thunder, the office door squealing open with Shachi in its mirror.

 “Captain come on! Dinners read-” He pales like a corpse when Law glares death his way, nervously playing with his fingers as Penguin clops in behind him laughing obnoxiously about God knows what until he too mutes. They both stare at your compromising position, looking to eachother in silent laughter. Well, it wouldn’t have been compromising if it wasn’t you.

 There's drool all over Law’s hand, he’s shimmying like some old man trying to get his back ache to go away. Nonetheless he's frozen, steely eyes set in a glacial glare as he quiets out an annoyed sigh. His crewmmates nonsense quiets.”Oh, so she finally told you.” Shachi hums, quarreling with a grin but the intonation gives away his cheekiness.

 “Not necessarily,” Law groans, swallowing a blush. “You all knew?” He quirks a curious brow.

 “Wild guess.” Penguin hums with an easy shrug, forcing an awkward smile.

 “You know that probably even worse for her back, right?” Shachi comments, pointing a finger in his sleeping crewmates direction. Law just gawks, he hadn’t thought your crumple of sleep would leave you feeling worse upon wakeness then none at all. Clearing his throat he scoops his fingers under and up your armpits trying to scoop you safely into his arms. 

 “Of course I knew that-” Law quiets his rambling when you spurt out a snort. You release a gargantuan yawn. He points and shooes his crewmates that scramble into the hallway but its too late. Your lids are shot open as you smack your lips like a child. Shachi and Penguin make a break for it.

 “Know what?” You babble out, eyes alight with the familiar childlike mischief. Sleep had refreshed you well. He threads a rough hand through his hair, a heavy sigh slipping.

 “You were sleeping in a position that could compromise your back. I was trying to move you.” He removes the hand resting upon your cheek, trying to discard the soaked glove without your notice. “You really need to be more careful, he scolds when he sees you give him a dopey grin, ignoring his feign of casuality. You look more than stupid, like there are no thoughts behind your eyes, only joy at the mere prospect that his hunchback was caused by holding you up. You’re satisfied as a cat that's knocked over a glass and usually that’d only egg him on but it only forced him to sigh.

 At least you weren’t crying anymore. Your smugness couldn’t taint that.

“Did I drool?” 

 “Immensely.” He rolls his eyes, tossing the glove into the trash as you cackle.

 “You been standing there long?” You further, chaos winding you into a smile of all teeth, dimples peeking out like the sun through a rainy storm.

 “Long enough.” He groans lightly, a hint of a smirk on his face as he returns your prescription to the medicine cabinet. Then you look toward the clock and realize its been 2 hours. You bark out a laugh, nearly falling out of the office chair.

 “You didn’t move for 2 hours?” You snicker wildly and Law plops back into his chair, fingers caging away the blush pelting his cheeks as he looks away to mask embarrassment. “I have slept through raids before, Law.”

 “Shut up.” He grumbles, distracting himself with undone paperwork on his desk. “I moved my legs.”

 “You’re such a liar.” You shout with glee, lunging into a stand without help as you sniff the air. “Dinner time!” You lean over his desk just to spite him, sticking your tongue out before you hobble toward the door.

 “You’re still on temporary leave.” He reminds you with a stern glare, laced with affection at your silliness. He loathes becoming permeable but its far too comfortable when it's with you. You turn to look back at him as if contemplating taking his statement as a personal bullet but don’t, readjusting your back.

 “Uh-huh, doesn’t matter. I’ll never let you live it down!” You tease, skipping down the hallway as if you weren’t just in excruciating pain. You’re definitely about to tattle like some little kid and he is going to tolerate it until you inevitably find some other thing he does more strange.

 In summary, unless he told you otherwise (or you grew less dense), his little bits of affection would be the running joke of the dinner table.

#Law trafalgar x reader #Trafalgar Law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar one piece #one piece imagine #trafalgar d law x reader

[harmonysanreads]

Sumeru hexagon thought: considering the tournament ask and your dive into wanderer's affections, What does Nahida think about this mess? After all, Hat Guy went to her for advice about reader and now he is living this sort of double life. Plus, as one of the more active archons, she might pick up something going on with the General Mahamatra and the Scribe.

Honestly, I know she would most likely not like this at all, but I think it would be kinda funny if she accidentally was Team Wanderer (Or one of the other guys)

How unfair, telling her to pick one of the boys is like asking her who's her favorite child — she's on your side, obviously.

It takes time for all of the boys' feelings to reach that peak and some more for them to recognize each other as rivals (Not Scaramouche though, he takes one look at them and knows who's competition). It takes a little more time for their competition to be recognized as something not quite healthy. Nahida is rather intrigued by the situation ; you have not one, not two, not three but five men with varying personalities and lore after your affections. It's likely she'd predicted Scaramouche's side of things, knowing his past and all. She's a little guilty as well, for she did encourage him when his feelings were more harmless.

Nahida will have to think long and hard perchance you come to her with your concerns. After all, your ‘suitors’ aren't ordinary men ; in fact, without three of them, Sumeru would've plummeted beyond saving. She's indebted to them, no doubt and having you just boosts everyone's work ethic. That doesn't mean she supports the other, less beneficial things they're doing as an excuse. Not to mention, you're at active risk as well. Yes, she'll need to think very carefully about this.

#sumeru love hexagon #yandere #genshin yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #nahida #yandere wanderer #yandere kaveh #yandere cyno #yandere tighnari #yandere alhaitham

[pearl-blue-musings]

Aaaaaaa I love wine night 😭💖 (i fear i may have missed a couple in the past) but i’m here now! and with angsty alhaitham thots 🫣😈 how do you think a really bad argument would go with alhaitham and reader? like i’m just imagining so many scenario’s rn and i just wanna dissect this man. i’m just interested in a hc you have of angry alhaitham/how he would handle a fight with his s/o. ya know?

anyway i hope you’re having a wonderful night, mootie. i’ve missed you lots 💖

Z!!!!!! I have missed you so so so much!!! 💜💜💜 I’m always down for an angsty alhaitham you know how much I love him 🙈

Kaveh hates having to be in the middle of arguments, so he’s finally not going to be. At first he wasn’t sure why you would date someone like Alhaitham but he’s not one to judge. Until tonight that is. He’s so tempted to leave his room but honestly his roommate had it coming.

“That scholar was absolutely flirting with you,” you almost scream. “How could you not tell?!”

Alhaitham rolls his eyes as he sits on the couch. “And like I’ve told you, there is nothing going on between us. Your insecurities are astounding.”

How dare he? Kaveh slaps his forehead at his roommates stupidity. “My insecurities?! You have got to be kidding me! Do you hear yourself? Says the person who got mad that Cyno asked for my expertise.”

“The general has had feelings for you for a long time,” Alhaitham responds, “everyone knows that. Why do you indulge him? Is it because he says those awful jokes? You have had such a terrible weakness for those.”

Kaveh can sense that you’ve rolled your eyes and start to pace. “And so what?! Everyone with eyes can see how attractive you are. You’ve had plenty of people confess to you but you were too stupid to realize it. You don’t hear what they say about me! That you should dump me, that I’m no good for the grand sage or grand scribe or whatever!”

“And why do you listen to them?” God, Kaveh wants to strangle his roommate. If he didn’t have a commission to finish up he’d be at your defense right now. “If they flirt with me then there’s nothing I can do. I can’t control them.”

“But you can at least reject their advances! Why can’t you see that? She kissed! Your! Cheek!”

“It was merely friendly.”

“A friendly kiss on the cheek?! Alhaitham do you hear yourself?! No one who is a friend should be kissing you like that!”

Kaveh is certain Alhaitham is about to say something incredibly stupid and hurtful. And unfortunately, he’s correct.

“Then should I not be giving you the same affection? You are my partner after all. I give or receive affection as it’s due.”

Kaveh actually slapped his face that time. With his ear pressed to the door, he can already hear you crying and haphazardly grabbing your things. “Your partner? Am I,” your voice breaks, “nothing more than a means to an end for you? Is this just another partnership to you? To achieve your goals?” By this point you’re openly sobbing and Kaveh wants nothing more than to hug you and slap his friend.

Alhaitham pauses to think. “I don’t think-“

“Fucking forget it,” you breathe out with exhaustion. “I’m out of here.”

“Sure, just walk away angry instead of talking about it like you always do.”

You push him then and make your way out of the house. The door slams quickly and that’s when Kaveh makes his move. “You’re a fucking idiot,” Kaveh sighs. “You basically said they’re not special to you and that you do this with everyone.”

Kaveh had never seen his roommate run so fast in his life, presumably to catch up to you and profusely apologize.

Elle’s Wine Night!!

#elle’s musical moots #z 🎯 #aaahhh I’ve missed you!! #elle’s wine night #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #kaveh

[jhuzen]

study habits [m.reader]

i offer up this story for my man haitham. please come home. i will die without your tits. thank you mwah. i’m paying homage to my very nice study habits that apparently, some people find weird.

Part 2

“Ride me, ‘Haitham.”

Alhaitham’s breath hitched upon hearing your little request.

In his few decades of life studying in Akademiya (though mostly refusing to join classes and opting to just do it on his own), Alhaitham came across certain breeds of students that classify into studying. Despite spending a majority of his time with his nose buried in between the pages of every book he’s held, he still made time to make observations around the people he finds himself surrounded by.

And it’s no different when the examinations befall Akademiya. Despite Akademiya being known for manufacturing astute scholars from every walks of life (though that took a little while until the current Grand Sage was overthrown), they still were renowned for its dreadful examinations which every single student had to exert twice as effort to pass, or they get the boot.

In a way, it’s how a student proves their standing in Akademiya, in the school that they’ve chosen for themselves. After all, a little memorization of concepts wouldn’t hurt now, would it? Application is one way to exert knowledge, but to objectively know topics is the first step before even conducting a research, because how on earth are you able to start a research study with little knowledge from the correlating topics?

Nevertheless, when Alhaitham was a student, he proved his standing in the school of Haravatat after acing all of his tests. He was an ace that all professors from before would boast to others (ignoring his attitude and tendency to study alone — some of them can look past that just so they can be proud of someone who apparently learned under them).

And he was no stranger to the many breeds of student that fell under different categories in terms of study habits.

There were over-achievers that absolutely refused to settle for less, studying vigorously that sometimes, apparently, their parents would come and visit, hoping that their child hasn’t plummeted to death. And as the scribe, he has had one too many encounters of people worrying about these students, checking in whether or not they’ve eaten or given themselves attention other than studying. Still, he wasn’t one to complain, these people were dead set on achieving the top and more often than not, they succeed.

There are those who preferred to study in groups, finding social interactions less distracting (something that even with the genius Alhaitham possesses, he cannot simply understand). But apparently, according to his roommate, who also preferred a little company when he was still a student, it helps when your colleagues would quiz you, and sometimes even just listening to the question and answer portions your associates would do out of nowhere helped retain information.

People who did not prefer people but still preferred distraction opted to study with music. Alhaitham has heard from a scholar that the beat of the melody helps them put the information into a rhythm that they could not forget either — he supposed that was what happened when he could hear a rhythmic tapping during his final examinations back then.

And Alhaitham sometimes would find people in the dead of the night still by the library, looking remotely refreshed, only to be told that they just woke up and are ready to study the night away just hours before the examinations so that ‘the information is still fresh when the exams come up’. He had to scoff at that, one too many times he’s seen a classmate of his drop dead asleep in the middle of what they have been preparing for all night, some he finds even comically staring out of the blue, completely out of it from the clear lack of sleep.

He has even realized that there were those who were impractical yet still so confident they can stand up against the hundred-item questionnaire — those that relied on stock knowledge, claiming that their photographic memory and sharp hearing helped them retain information. Alhaitham watched them fumble with their now jumbled stock knowledge. And then… there were those who slept with a book under their pillow, with a bold claim that if they slept directly under it, their minds would absorb each information and they would be all set.

Alhaitham watched them draw a complete blank during the examinations.

And then… there was you. The very odd you.

You that hailed from nowhere (you claim), right-hand and quite possibly a father or brother figure to Nahida, teaching her the wonders of the human mind and its emotions as per her request. Since the day he, the traveler, and the rest of the ragtag gang that they formed to plan the Dendro Archon’s rescue, you started to come out of your den more to heed Nahida’s request.

Suffice to say, you were a scholar that differed from the rest as you took on a much different discipline, something far less palpable than the ancient ruins that the school of Haravatat studied, or the fauna and flora that the school of Amurta specialized in and not even the history that the school of Vahumana offered.

No. You thought people are far more interesting than the possibly thousands of ruins from King Deshret’s sovereign buried under the sand. You pondered about how people thought, how they felt, and how they procured the decisions that they make fascinated you far more than the hidden puzzles waiting to be solved and possibly reward you with riches unfathomable to one’s pocket.

You loved people and the machinations of their mind. And so, with pride slung on your back, you studied the discipline of the human psyche and published research independent from Akademiya. Granted, back then, they barely gathered traction due to the Grand Sage’s restrictions — you didn’t cave and that frustrated the man, so your research reached such little population.

How ironic was it that even the beloved Dendro Archon now craves for your bouts of knowledge as though you were her teacher despite embodying the value of wisdom itself.

Nevertheless, despite the genius you possessed, that did little to take away from… your odd study habits.

But you swore to him it works — you’ve tested it yourself and showed him a fifty-page thesis about the efficiency of it. How lucky was it that you often invaded his house when it’s time to do your little studies. Kaveh enjoyed them and even egged you on, but Alhaitham was on the edge of the flat plane of temptation as he watched you work up a sweat on the floor.

His self-awareness was far too great but his self-control falters with every second he watched your biceps flex when you would routinely push yourself off the floor, maintaining a perfect posture that he was sure not even the trained matras could hope to do.

As it turns out, among the other ways to study, yours was only odd, simply because it absolutely served his sight, offering him a delectable show that at the very least, he can subtly observe (though he’s sure you barely pay attention to your surroundings, not when the way your eyebrows knitted in concentration into a soft glare as you studied the book under you).

But then you shattered his little daydream as you asked something from him.

“…What,” Alhaitham’s response was flat and dead, covering up the bothersome jittering that was in his stomach. He absolutely refused to lose to the likes of you.

You held on your position and looked over your shoulder, “I said, ride me. Get on my back.” Then your bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “Or are you still mad that I suggested you take the Grand Sage’s position?”

Ah yes. Now he was reminded why there was a small flicker of admonishing that settled at the pit of his stomach. You, a previously outsider scholar, suddenly had the influence just because you were Lesser Lord Kusanali’s appointed caretaker. Your influence, coupled with Nahida’s trust in you, had placed him in his new position as the Acting Grand Sage.

“You’ve done nothing but cause me trouble these past few days. And yet you have the gall to barge in my home and now you have the utmost confidence that I will entertain your unwelcome and asinine request?”

“Yes, absolutely, a hundred percent,” you answered without missing a beat.

Alhaitham had to steel himself. You were either absolutely unabashed or you knew him from the inside out and that you’re being an absolute tease, “You’re as good as a roommate here. Pay your dues.” Was all he said before turning to leave.

“I will pay you in a form of lunch. Name any restaurant in every nation. Just get on me.”

Do you know how absolutely ridiculous you sound? You’re smart so you’re probably aware, but it looks like even that’s not turning out in his favor, “Why do you feel the need to add more weight into your… escapades?”

“Because it’s fun. Helps me concentrate.”

“Your thesis does not stipulate any of that. In fact you claimed that too much can cause more of a distraction than the intended outcome while studying.” Alhaitham rebutted, eyes narrowing at you in pure criticism and suspicion.

“Hah. Check the page in my results, there’s a footnote that the intensity of a physical workout varies upon the concentration of the person.”

You did no such thing. And Alhaitham knows. He read every word verbatim in your thesis about the correlation of the human mind and physical activities and almost memorized it. And from the knowing look in your eyes and that captivatingly annoying smile, you were trying to fish him out of the depths of his physical attraction.

“…Do not blame me if my weight proves to be too much. And not less than fifteen minutes. Kaveh’s on his way home. I’d rather be caught dead somewhere in the den of a Rishboland tiger than be in this… circumstance.”

He absolutely refused to look at your dumb and victorious smile as he walked over to you. Alhaitham had to say, you definitely earned the stares you catch when you would walk through the streets of Sumeru City. And it was all the more endearing when you told him that other than helping your concentration in studying, you liked to be stronger, so that you can take Nahida out on walks with the traveler (should they visit) and ensure no harm befalls either of them.

Surprisingly, you were one to keep your word, as you steadily did your push-ups with little to no problem while he sat on your back. Alhaitham, ever the prepared man he was, brought in a tiny book that he has read one too many times just to distract from the way you felt under him, the way your sturdy back held him up. You barely wobbled and the scribe had to wonder if you were some kind of beast at this point.

And in the minutes that he desperately tried to distract himself from, his ears grew hotter at the soft grunts you emanated, and in between them were deep murmurs of the material you studied, broken words leaving your plump lips that he may have stared at before one too many times.

Archons. Attraction is so insufferable. So illogical. So subjective. So… so… so not him. You defied all logic with your disarmingly dumb atmosphere, only to take people by surprise as you present your hundreds of research on something so rarely touched on such as human emotions. You were Alhaitham’s first subjective thought and it pains him so much.

While he continued to drown in his sorrows about you bypassing his logical security systems that his brain was wired to have at all costs, he failed to notice when you stopped.

And in one swift move, you wriggled around and laid your back on the floor, with him still on top of you, now straddling you in such compromising position that could leave anyone completely mortified and embarrassed.

“Wh—”

“Hey, I’m home. I saw some familiar shoes outside, is [Name] here? Is he cooking dinner? Oi, where a—”

The fifteen minutes are up and as Alhaitham met the definitely not welcome scandalous look that Kaveh gave the both of you — with your breathlessness and his flushed face, he thought of a hundred ways how to convince Nahida to finally drop you from your position.

#genshin impact x male reader #alhaitham x male reader #alhaitham x reader #jhuzen’s stupid one shots #come home haitham pls #i beg of you. come home so i may tit fuck you

[harukaprism]

Love ever after

Pairing: Alhaitham x GN!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, a bit a swearing, jealous Alhaitham

Word Count: 1,369 (nice)

You swore off relationships, swore off love, locked your heart away after the last relationship ended horribly. This time it was just you and only you. You moved away from your hometown and found yourself in the heart of Sumeru, accepted into the Akademiya and given a fresh new start. 

It has been like this for two years now, studying, school, work at the Cafe, then home to sleep finally. Your cold heart at the bottom of your to-do list, but imagine your surprise when your path eventually crossed with the insane scribe you met when you first came to the city in a daze. 

At first you hadn't realized who helped you find the apartment building, show you around town and which rooms to go through the school but as you got used to your new life it hit you and you avoided Alhaitham at all costs. 

In the past he only showed up every once in a while at the Cafe you worked at, but as you grew more comfortable around his presence it seemed the more he became a thorn in your side that hid itself from removal. 

Just like every other night, Alhaitham was sat in a corner reading his many books with a dinner and drink barely touched in front of him, Kaveh made a surprise appearance as he usually did. 

But it seemed you and Alhaitham were sick of the blonde on this night, as you had served them drink after drink having to endure the torture of Kavehs rants. Meeting the teal and scarlet eyes often scribe you walked over to their table for hopefully the last time you gave your best customer service smile to the two roommates. "Kaveh, is there anything else I can get you tonight?" 

His amber eyes met yours as he huffed. "No, I'll be taking my leave now." Dramatic as always the blonde strode out of your work with a certain pout. 

The silver haired man made no attempt to thank you but you didn't need it so you walked back to the kitchen to keep cooking and serving other customers. The night drew to a slow pace as all the students and citizens resigned for the night. 

You finally made your way to Alhaithams table to clear away the now empty plate of food. "I'm surprised you ate it after the time Kaveh took up." 

"I took bites between his rants." Finally looking up from the book he met your eyes. "His projects weren't too uninteresting, of course I already knew about them being that-" 

"You are The Scribe." You interrupted teasingly. "Yes yes, all hail the almighty Scribe of the Akademiya." With that you turned and took his dishes to the kitchen to wash, he'd be here until closing to finish his book, then you'd go your separate way as always.

When you finished everything and were closing up you spotted the silver haired man waiting outside. He claimed to be so unpredictable, yet you knew this was incorrect as you tracked his movements every night in the Cafe. "Did you get a lot of reading done?" You asked as you approached him. 

"I tuned out Kaveh so yes actually." Standing up from where he was leaning up against the building you allowed him to approach you. This was routine, he'd bid you a good night and be on his way. 

"Good for you." Securing your bag that held your uniform you started to walk past you. "Good night!" You were used to the silent walk home yet footsteps followed you. 

"How are your studies going?" This surprised you, he never walked you home he never asked about what you did in school. 

“They are fine, why so interested suddenly?” Looking at him his face was unreadable, like usual but there was something different about his eyes. “I am working on a large project with another student, we are meeting up tomorrow to work on it.” 

He was silent for a moment before he spoke up. “Are they competent enough to give you a passing grade?” Why was he so worried about your grades now? 

“No, I don’t think so. His grades-” 

“His?” Alhaitham interrupted as he stopped walking right outside of your apartment building. 

“Yes? Is there a problem?” What was with him? “Haitham, what has gotten into you, are you in work mode? Do you need something from me as a student?” When he said nothing and only stared at you you fished out your keys from your bag and walked to the front door. “See you later.” 

The next day after getting ready for a day out with your school partner you were met with the tall and broad chest of a certain Scribe. “Haitham, what the hell? Don’t you have papers to review?” Rubbing your nose you met his eyes, though instead of his normal deadpan look there was something more stirring. 

“Where are you going, it’s too early for you and school hasn’t started for your Darshan.” What the hell was his attitude? 

“Did you wake up in Kavehs bed or did you skip your coffee?” Pushing past him you started to walk into the city, agreeing to meet with your partner outside of the cafe. Thankfully he didn’t follow you and your work got along swimmingly, stopping through Gandharva Ville for a snack.

When you got back to the city and got to work you noticed the normal table that held the roommates only had the blonde. 

“What did you do to Alhaitham? He got home and he was just ranting and raving and was stomping all over the house.” Kaveh huffed as he leaned against his arm. “Normally I piss him off, you did something.” 

“Kaveh, I literally have no idea. Last night he was acting weird and asked about my studies, then when I brought up that project I told you about last time, he got all pissy.” With a huff you balanced your tray on your hip as the two of you started to think. 

Why would he get mad about you and your partner, the two of you only partnered up because his backed out of the Akademiya at the last minute and you just wanted to help. 

“Wait, hold on. Did you tell him about your partner in the project?” Kavehs red eyes shot open quickly as he stared at you. 

“Well yeah of course I did, why wouldn’t I?” Like a Sumter Beast the realization hit you. “Holy shit!” Tossing your tray on the table you ran out of the cafe quickly. It would take you a few minutes to get to his office but running at a full sprint shouldn’t take long. 

Dodging people left and right you ran right into his office where you knew he would be, his silver hair the only thing you could see over his obnoxious book, he didn’t even grace you with a glance. “Yes?” 

“You’re jealous!” You exclaimed while the laugh you had been trying to hold bubbled to the surface as you watched his body go rigid. Instead of facing you he only turned in his chair away from you. “Haitham, are you seriously jealous of my school partner?” Walking around his desk you pushed the book down to see his face. You were met with a pleasant pink hit of blush on the apples of his cheeks. He didn’t speak like you thought he would, he just refused to meet your eyes as he looked away. “As a man of truth isn’t it important to face the facts?” 

This time he did speak. “You don’t need him to finish your project. I will help you.” Was he serious? He wasn’t even part of your Darshan! “I know that face, despite not being part of your Darshan I happen to know a lot about the topic of your project.” 

“Of course the all mighty Scribe does!” Barking out a laugh you held your stomach, when you saw a smile crack his ever stoic face you knew that you were falling for him in a way you swore you would never do. 

“We start tonight, I need a reason to be away from Kaveh.”

#genshin #gi #genshin fanfic #genshin fanfiction #gi fanfiction #gi fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #al haitham #al haitam x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you